Elmore Leonard - Out of Sight

White Boy didn't seem to pay any attention to Maurice and Glenn in the backseat talking about him. Driving out to the suburbs on a cold, sunless afternoon, all the way out Woodward Avenue from downtown to show Glenn Mr. Ripley's house in Bloomfield Hills.

"White Boy," Maurice said, "never made it as a pro, even though he can be a mean and vicious motherfucker. See, but if a fighter works in and gives him a good shot, White Boy's eyes cross and he don't know where he's at. I'm talking about in the ring, you understand, where you have to go by the rules. You mess with him on the street it's a whole different situation.

Look at him, the shoulders, a size twenty neck on him. White Boy Bob stands six-four and goes two-fifty, can put his fist through a plaster wall. I've seen it." Maurice said, "White Boy," raising his voice,

"tell Glenn the reason you went down on that burglary that time."

Glenn saw White Boy Bob look up at the mirror.

"I left my wallet in the house I robbed."

Glenn saw him grinning now in the mirror.

"Come out of his pocket," Maurice said, "as he's climbing through the window. Takes the TV, the VCR, some other shit and leaves his wallet on the floor. The police come by to see him.

"You lose this, Bob?" White Boy goes, "Yeah, I guess I did," not thinking where he might've left it. Got sent to Huron Valley." Maurice raised his voice again.

"What was it, two years you done that time?"

"Twenty-two months."

Glenn watched him looking at the mirror and Maurice said, "Watch the road, Boy." He said to Glenn, "I like this Town Car. We can cruise the man's neighborhood without getting the police or the private security people on our ass. Understand what I'm saying?"

Glenn said, "Sure, right, they see Bigfoot driving around a black guy wearing shades and a lavender fucking bandanna, no, they won't think anything of it."

Maurice said, "It's lilac, man, the color, and the style's made known by Deion and other defensive backs in the pros. I could be one of them living out here with doctors of my race and basketball players. Man, all you need is money. Here, this road we coming to… What is it, White Boy?"

"Big Beaver," White Boy said, grinning at the mirror.

"White Boy can't get over a road name Big Beaver. Okay, we come about fifteen miles from that whorehouse motel you staying at downtown. Now we in Bloomfield Hills. We go left a ways and then right. They no hills to speak of, huh, but lots of trees.

Remember Lompoc, we had that nice view of trees and the warden had 'em all cut down?"

"Eucalyptus," Glenn said.

"New warden," Maurice said.

"Cut down the trees and kept the yard closed till noon every day. I worked nights, see, in the bakery? Use to come off and do my training.

So I couldn't do it no more, work on my legs. You don't have legs, you got no business in the ring."

White Boy said, "I let Maury hit me in the gut as hard as he can."

Maurice said, "Watch the road, Boy. Slow down, I think it's the next street… Yeah, Vaughan Road, nothing but money.

Here come Mr. Ripley's house up on the left. Yeah, the brick wall..

There's his drive, right there."

Glenn turned his head to look out the back window and caught sight of a slate roof, glimpses of a Tudor-style country house through the trees, a huge place, Glenn saying, "He went by too fast."

Maurice told White Boy to turn around, in that drive there, and go slow so Glenn could see the house.

"Okay, now creep.

Big place, huh? We come by and see people trimming, cutting the lawn, so I send White Boy to go find the boss of the crew, ask was there any work for him. The boss say no, so White Boy goes around to where this houseman is washing a car, in back, and ask can he have a drink of water from the hose. The houseman's white too, see. They get talking, White Boy ask him they any trouble with prowlers around here, car thieves and such. The houseman say they got a system, the man's sleeping and hears a sound he don't like? He press a button and every light inside and outside the house comes on. He wants to, he can press the button again, all the lights outside the house start flashing, a siren goes off and the police get a call, like a signal.

The man has everything but U.S. Marines run out the garage at you. I'm thinking, we don't need none of that shit. I make up my mind, if this Ripley place is worth going into, they's only one way to do it. Which I believed from the time you first told me about Ripley was how to do it anyway."

"How?" Glenn said.

"I'll show you, soon as I get two more people I'm gonna need. Couple of young gym rats I know, hang out at the Kronk.

Give 'em a hundred each they go anywhere I say."

"Wait just a fucking minute," Glenn said.

"I'm letting you in on this, not all your friends."

"You let me in on what?" Maurice said.

"You come this time and tell me, finally, the whole story, how this man has all kind of money in there, stones, gold; but that was five years ago the man told you. What's he got in there now? You tell me you gonna bring some people, couple old cons know what they doing.

Then you say you change your mind, you ain't bringing these people."

"And you told me," Glenn said, "you know how to break and enter, only your expert here leaves his fucking wallet in the house."

"You learn from doing," Maurice said.

"You learn where the money's at, then you do it. You don't go in a house and toss it looking for valuables, slit open the mattress, that kind of shit.

They young fellas do that call the Head Bangers, go in and beat up on old ladies for money they save in a coffee can. No-the way to do it, you go in where you know they's money from illegal trade and the man ain't gonna tell on you. Like Mr.

Ripley, you say made his from illegal trade. But what he told you, not only was it some time ago, it might've been bullshit.

Understand? The one thing visible this Ripley deal has going for it, I mean we're sure of, is that big fucking house you have to be rich to live in."

"He's got it," Glenn said, "don't worry."

"Man, the only thing I'm worried about is you, if you can step up and do it. Understand?

"Stead of just talking the talk."

"Can I do what?"

"Walk in a house with me I got picked out. Man that lives there, a white guy, I used to sell to when I was in Young Boys, Incorporated."

"Excuse me," Glenn said, "but I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"Quit looking out the window and listen, you find out. Young Boys, man, we had the whole west side. This man I'm talking about would drive down to the projects, stop by my corner and I'd fix him up. Okay, now later on when I was doing business for the Chambers brothers-the ones had the crack factory?"

Glenn shook his head.

"Had girls working there cooked the rocks they called the Rockettes."

"I thought you were into credit cards."

"That was like on the side, use 'em to buy clothes, things for my house. See, but when I got ratted on and the feds wanted me for product, I had the credit cards to plead down to. Understand?

They saw it as better than nothing, sent me to Lompoc and I let you talk me into escaping. Only stupid thing I ever done in my life. Okay, now this man I'm talking about… You know the one I mean?"

"The guy who used to buy coke off you."

"Was scag he bought off me. After while kicked it and found his happiness with crack, what I started dealing him when I worked for the Chambers brothers. But, see, the man turned around and got into dealing himself, selling to white people out this way. You with me?"

"This is a long fucking story," Glenn said, looking out the window again at shrubs, stone walls, driveways, trying to be cool, but feeling his control of the situation slipping away as Maurice took over the car and now, it seemed, was taking over the whole fucking deal, the con named Snoopy nowhere in sight.