James Chase: Well Now, My Pretty…

“Can do… it’s easy.”

“Yes… I thought it might be with you handling it.” Maisky’s voice was gentle and confident. “Then there is a calculator in the vault which the girls use to add up the total take. This almost must be put on the blink. I believe you will see the fuse box for that.”

Mish nodded after examining the blueprint.

“Sure,” he said. “No trouble.”

“So this is your job, Mish. You put the air conditioner and the calculator on the blink. I’m just giving you this in outline. Later, of course, we will go into details. Now…” he looked at Chandler. “You have a more difficult role to play. You and Wash will arrive exactly at two-thirty in a small truck… I have the truck in my garage. You both will be wearing the uniforms of I.B.M. engineers, and you will have with you a carton that is supposed to contain a calculator. It will not, of course, contain a calculator. It will contain two gas masks and two automatic pistols. These articles I have already obtained. Jess will tell the doorman who guards the entrance to the vault that he has had a call from Mr. Lewis to replace the calculator in the vault. While he is talking to the doormen, Mish will put the calculator in the vault on the blink. So when Jess and Wash arrive at the door to the vault, the guards will know the calculator has broken down. It is up to Jess to talk his way into the vault… it shouldn’t be too difficult. Both he and Wash will be wearing the appropriate uniforms and carrying a carton marked on all sides: I.B.M. The girls will be complaining that their machine is out of order. Pyschologically, I think we can get away with this. Once inside, Chandler will open the carton and hold up the guards. Wash will put on his gas mask and then take over from Chandler who will also put on his gas mask. This must be done very quickly and with a lot of menace. We will, of course, practice this tomorrow. Before the guards have the time to start trouble, Jess will release the gas. This is very simple to do. A sharp tap on any solid object… the table… the wall… anything solid, will set it off. In ten seconds there will be no opposition. The vault will be filled with the gas. You two will then fill the carton with as much money as you can lay hands on… and there will be plenty. You will choose only fivehundred-dollar bills. These bills will be in packets and will be easy to handle. Having filled the carton, you will walk out. The doorman will assume you are taking away the calculator that has broken down. You will put the carton into the truck and then we will all drive off. This is a very brief summary of my plan. The details, of course, will have to be fully discussed and rehearsed, but we will do this tomorrow night.” He sat back, tapped ash off his cigarette and looked inquiringly at the four. men who had been listening with absorbed concentration.

Perry said, “Just where do I come in on the set-up?”

“Ah, yes… you.” Maisky smiled at him. “You will also be wearing the I.B.M. uniform. You will come in with Jess and Wash, but you will stay with the doorman. I’ll tell you about him later. He is an old man who likes to talk. Your job is to talk to him. I don’t anticipate trouble, but we must be ready to deal with it should it occur. Some nosy guard might turn up and start being awkward.” Maisky stared fixedly at Perry. “I am relying on you to take care of trouble and of nosy guards.”

Perry grinned.

“Fine… if that’s all I have to do, it’s easy.”

Chandler said sharply, “We now know what Mish, Wash, Jack and I have to do. Just exactly what will you do?”

“I will drive the truck,” Maisky said. “I am a lot older than any of you and I don’t propose to take too active a part in this operation. We will have to make a quick getaway, so I feel I am quite capable of handling the truck.” He paused, waited, then went on when none of the men said anything. “There is one thing we must accept. The news of the robbery will break very quickly. The Chief of Police here is very efficient. We would be asking for trouble if we tried to leave the City with the money until the heat dies down. The money will be buried in my garden. We will then split up, take a vacation in the City, then, when the heat is off, we will take our shares and leave in our own separate ways.”

Perry said, “I don’t like that. We will split the money at once and each of us will be responsible for taking care of his own share.”

Chandler said, “Yes.”

After hesitating, Mish said, “Well, I guess that’s right.” Maisky shrugged.

“As you like, gentlemen. We will, of course, work out all the details later. But I take it, you approve of the general plan?”

“It’s great,” Mish said.

Maisky looked at Wash.

“And you?”

“Oh, yes… I will do exactly what you tell me,” Wash said. “I think it is good.”

Chandler said, “There’s one thing that fazes me… just how did you get this blueprint and all your information? Whom did you buy it from?”

Maisky regarded the glowing end of his cigarette.

“I wonder if you really want to know, my friend?” he said. “You need have no fear about my informant. I have taken care of that very minor problem.” He looked up suddenly and Chandler flinched as he looked into the grey, ice-cold eyes.

HARRY LEWIS, Director of the Casino, neatly parked his black Fleetwood Cadillac in a vacant parking bay outside police headquarters, cut the engine and slid out into the early morning sunshine.

Lewis, tall, thin, elegantly dressed, was moving into his late fifties. He had been in charge of the richest Casino in the world now for fifteen years. He had the air of affluence and supreme confidence that only a background of extreme wealth can give a man.

He walked up the steps and into the Charge Room, where the desk sergeant, Charlie Tanner, was coping with a mass of drunk-incharge-of-a-car reports.

Seeing Lewis, Tanner dropped the reports and jumped to his feet.

’Morning, Mr. Lewis. Something I can do?”

Lewis always recieved V.I.P. treatment from the police. They were well aware of his generosity at Christmas and Thanksgiving Day. Every detective and every patrolman received a sixteen- pound turkey and a bottle of Scotch on these two festivals, and they realised this generosity must cost a whale of a lot of money.

“The Chief in?” Lewis asked.

“Sure, Mr. Lewis. You go right on up,” Tanner said. “How’s your wife, Charlie?”

Tanner grinned happily. This was another thing about Lewis. He seemed to know everything about everyone in Paradise City. Tanner’s wife had just come out of hospital after a difficult miscarriage.

“Fine now, Mr. Lewis… and thanks.”

“You must take care of her, Charles,” Lewis said. “We men take our wives too much for granted. Where would we be without them?” He flicked a folded bill across the desk. “Fuss her… women like being fussed.”

He walked over to the stairway that led to Chief of Police Terrell’s office. Tanner’s eyes grew round when he saw the bill was for $20.

Lewis tapped on Terrell’s door, pushed it open and walked into the small, sparsely furnished room.

Chief of Police Terrell, a massively built man with sandy hair, turning white at the temples and a jutting, aggressive jaw was pouring coffee from a carton into two paper cups. Sergeant Joe Beigler, his right-hand man, watched the coffee with an eye of an addict while he rested his big frame in a creaking, upright chair. Both men stiffened as Lewis walked casually into the little room. Beigler got to his feet. Terrell reached for another paper cup, smiling.

“Hello, Harry… you’re early,” he said. “Have some coffee?” Lewis took Beigler’s chair, shaking his head.