Уильям Макгиверн: Odds Against Tomorrow

“Are you interested so far?” Novak said.

“I don’t know. It’s — well, I don’t know.”

“You want some details, sure.” Novak stood and paced the floor in front of Earl, holding the cigar like a pointer in his big hand. “It’s a small bank, like Burke says. A big one doesn’t figure. First, you need too many guys.” He shrugged. “Lots of guys, lots of talk, that’s been my experience.

“Then the big banks are in the big cities. That means traffic. A car stalls in front of you, a fire truck blocks you off, an accident happens — bang! You’re dead. Two, the big banks are ready for trouble. They got guards behind peepholes, they got alarms a teller can let off by touching his toe to a foot pedal, they got the local cops, the FBI, Brink’s and Pinkerton all standing by to answer those alarms.” Novak stopped and looked down at Earl. “I’ve done research. To take a big bank means men, cars, a hideout, guns, explosives — so the profit, if there is any, goes into overhead. You following this?”

Earl nodded slowly. “Yes, I guess so.”

“With a friendly little bank in a country town, most of the problems disappear. That’s what we’re going after — a small, friendly bank that has one fat guard, and two middle-aged female tellers. The take should be good — around two hundred grand. There’s four of us in the deal, and the split is four ways. How’s your arithmetic, Earl?” Novak put the cigar in his mouth. “Can you divide four into two hundred thousand?”

“Fifty grand apiece?”

Novak patted his shoulder. “On the button.”

“It seems like a lot of cash for a small bank,” Earl said.

“It’s there, don’t worry,” Novak said. “This is a wealthy community, with lots of classy people around. And it’s got a business and industrial side to it — supermarkets, a canning factory, a couple of dozen wholesale mushroom houses. The bank stays open Friday nights from six to eight. Most of the factories pay their workers on Saturday, so the bank is loaded with payroll cash and the weekend deposits from the big stores and shops.” Novak paused for effect. “When the bank closes there’s close to two hundred thousand bucks in untraceable cash sitting in the tellers’ cages. A half-dozen clerks stick around for another hour or so straightening out the books. One sleepy old guard is all that’s standing between us and that dough. So what do you say? You want your share of it?”

Earl shifted in his chair. “Well, I don’t know.”

“I’ve spent weeks checking the area,” Novak said. “I’ve figured out a foolproof plan — how to get into the bank, get the money, and get the hell away free and clear. There’s no guesswork involved. It’s a solid deal.” He paused, frowning at Earl. “So?”

“It’s your turn to talk,” Burke said.

“Well — it’s a big decision to make in a hurry,” Earl said.

“Take your time,” Novak said. “Burke, freshen up his drink.”

“I’ve never been in on anything like this before,” Earl said, trying to smile.

“Well, here’s a chance to move up to the majors,” Burke said. “Let me have your glass.”

“Thanks.” He was glad to have this immediate pressure taken off; he had always hated decisions. They worked up a tension in him, made him confused and angry and miserable. That was one nice thing about the Army, he thought, almost wistfully; someone else was paid to do the thinking. But now it was up to him to make the plans and give the orders. It had seemed simple this morning. Novak had a job for him — that was all. There might be something wrong with it, but what the hell? You couldn’t pick and choose forever. Grab it, that had been his first cheerful reaction. Take any chance to get off the treadmill...

That had seemed logical and inevitable. But now he wasn’t sure of anything at all...

“Well?” Novak said. “What’s the verdict?”

“Damn, I don’t know.” Earl searched through his pockets for cigarettes, while Novak watched him with an irritable frown.

“So what’s worrying you?” he said.

“I don’t know enough about the deal,” Earl said, puffing nervously on his cigarette. With a surge of relief he remembered something; Burke had said it would be a four-way split. “Who’s the other guy?” he said. “You said there’s to be four in on it. I got to know something about the other guy.”

“If you buy in, you’ll meet him tomorrow,” Novak said. “He’s all right. He fits the job like a glove.”

“Like a black suede glove,” Burke said, laughing softly.

Earl felt that he was being hounded into a corner. “Can he keep his mouth shut? I mean, is he a dependable guy? I don’t want to get mixed up with any clowns.” He realized that he sounded frightened and foolish, and that brought a surge of color into his cheeks. “I can handle my end of things but I want to know who’s backing me up. It’s like the Army — you’ve got to be sure of every man in the platoon.”

Novak said quietly, “I told you he’s okay. That means he’s okay. All you got to do is nod or shake your head. In or out. Understand?”

“Well, I can’t make up my mind this fast,” Earl said. He put out his cigarette, relieved to have postponed his decision; he wanted to get out of here now, get away from all this crowding, insistent pressure. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Is that okay?”

“No, it’s not okay,” Burke said. He came to his feet, rubbing his big hands together slowly. “We want to know how you stand now. Not after you’ve talked it over with your girl and the parish priest.”

Earl looked at him steadily for a moment. He wasn’t conscious of coming to a decision but he suddenly knew what he was going to do: tell Novak to go to hell and knock this big rummy, Burke, flat on his tail. But before he could move, Novak put a hand on his shoulder and said easily, “Another day won’t matter, Earl. It’s okay. Call me first thing in the morning.”

“Okay,” Earl said. “Sure.” The anger drained out of him and he nodded slowly. “I’ll give you a call, don’t worry.” He felt grateful to Novak for making this concession to him; it made him feel important. “Thanks a lot.”

After he had gone Novak and Burke regarded each other for a few seconds in a curious silence. Finally Burke smiled and began to make himself a drink. “Just what we need,” he said. “A hillbilly full of temperament. To give the job a little tone.”

“I think he’ll do,” Novak said. He picked up his glass and frowned at the bubbles on the surface of the liquor. “He’s dumb as hell, but he’ll do. Once he comes in, he’ll stick.”

“I don’t know,” Burke said. “He strikes me as trouble. I was a cop long enough to recognize the type. They’re like ticking bombs.” He shrugged his big, soft-looking shoulders and settled himself in a chair. “They go off in your face and you never know what hit you. I was a cop long enough to see it happen lots of times.”

“You weren’t a cop long enough to collect your pension,” Novak said dryly.

“Okay, so I was canned,” Burke said. “You want to say it, go ahead. That make you feel better?”

“I feel fine,” Novak said, walking over to the window. For a few seconds he stared at the dark skyline and the sliver of moon that was emerging from behind the tall bulk of an office building.

“I’ll bet he won’t call you,” Burke said. “Two to one he won’t come in.”

Novak shook his head. “I wouldn’t take your money. He’s hooked. Hooked solid.”

After leaving Novak’s hotel Earl wandered aimlessly through the crowded streets for an hour or so, bored by his loneliness and irritated by the noise of the city, but reluctant to return to the empty apartment. Lorraine wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours yet, and he was in no mood to sit around by himself and watch television. She might even be later tonight, he thought; now that he had some news for a change she’d probably get tied up for an extra hour or so. She ran the fountain and lunch counter in a large chain drugstore, and there were always details to keep her from getting away at anywhere near her normal quitting time. He understood this, of course; she had explained to him often enough. But it still irritated him. Particularly on a night when he had some news...