Ричард Деминг - The Second Richard Deming Mystery MEGAPACK®

“How’s that?”

“Everybody rushes to see anything at all that happens. It’s because there’s so little else to get excited about.”

His words popped an idea into my head. If the accident had occurred ten minutes earlier, just as Fat Sam Cooney carried his money bag from the office, only the proprietor and the bartender would have been left in the place.

I turned to look back toward the tavern. On that side of the square some people were staring from the windows of the bank next door to the tavern, and a number of businessmen and clerks were peering from the doorways and through the show windows of stores, but there wasn’t a soul on the sidewalk. Everyone who wasn’t working seemed to have rushed to see the accident.

If a similar distraction could be arranged the following Friday, just as Fat Sam emerged from his office—

I said to Andy, “How do I get in touch with you?”

“You going?” he asked.

“I want to check into a motel. Can we get together tonight to resume our conversation?”

“Sure. At Fat Sam’s?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think we ought to get too thick in public. Got a phone?”

“Yeah. It’s listed under my dad’s name. Joseph Carr on Bodie Street. It’s in the book.”

“I’ll phone at exactly nine p.m.,” I said. “Make a point of answering personally.”

“Okay. The best motel is the Shady Lane, about a mile from the square out North Main.” He pointed to the street bisecting the north side of the square.

I gave him a nod of thanks and walked off.

If the Shady Lane Motel was the best in Rover, I pitied the guests at the others. It consisted of a row of paintless square cabins with flat, tarpaper roofs which absorbed sunlight, converted it into heat, and poured the heat into the rooms below. The rugless floor of my cabin creaked, and the shower dripped.

It was clean, though, and it was certainly reasonable. I paid twenty-five dollars for a full week.

There was no phone in my cabin, so I lingered at the restaurant where I had dinner until nine o’clock, then phoned Andy Carr from the restaurant booth. He must have been waiting at the phone, because he answered in the middle of the first ring.

“Andy?”

“Yeah.”

“George Snyder. Do you have a car?”

“No.”

“Hmm. How far are you from the Shady Lane Motel?”

“Only about a half-mile. I can walk it.”

“Good. I’m in cabin five. Don’t check for me at the office. Just come straight there.”

“Right,” he said. “See you in about twenty minutes.”

By the time I got back to my cabin, it had cooled sufficiently for it to be quite comfortable. A knock sounded at nine-twenty-five. I opened the door, to find Carr standing there.

Letting him in, I closed and locked the door. I had already drawn the shades.

Glancing around, he said nervously. “This thing has already got me jumping out of my skin.”

“Want to drop it?” I asked.

“Oh, no,” he said quickly. “I’ll be all right.”

“Then sit down and we’ll talk it over. Want a drink?” I indicated a bottle of whiskey on the dresser.

He said he did, and I poured shots in both water glasses with which the cabin was furnished. “There’s no ice and no mix. Want water in it?”

“That’s okay.”

Carrying both glasses into the bathroom, I added water to each. When I came out again, he was seated in the only chair with his head cocked to one side, listening. I paused to listen too. All I could hear was a siren in the distance.

“Fire engines,” he said, grinning at me. “Probably kids again.”

“Oh,” I said. “I thought you heard someone coming.”

I handed him a drink and sat on the bed.

After we had sampled our drinks, I asked, “You’re sure you’re in this all the way? I don’t want to waste a lot of time planning this score, then have you chicken out at the last minute.”

“I’m in,” he said sincerely. “I’d do anything for enough money to blow this burg. I need a break.”

“Okay. Then I’ve got a tentative plan. Did you notice how fast Fat Sam’s place cleared today when that accident happened?”

“Sure. They even run out like that when a jet goes over. I told you there was nothing to do here.”

“Well, suppose we staged a similar diversion about one minute to five next Friday, so the place would empty just as Sam came from his office?”

His eyes grew round. “Why didn’t I ever think of that?” he breathed. “What kind of diversion?”

“I haven’t thought that far. It’s just a tentative idea. But we have a week to work on it. Now, the next question is, do you care if, after the event, everybody in town knows you were involved?”

This apparently hadn’t occurred to him, because he looked startled. His brow creased in a frown.

“It doesn’t make any difference to me,” I said. “I’m a stranger here, nobody knows my real name, and I don’t care if I ever come back again. But this is your home town. Fifteen minutes after the heist there will be radiograms about us going all over the state. All they’ll have on me is a description, and I’m a pretty average-looking guy. But your real name will go out, your known habits—everything. What about that?”

He asked uncertainly, “Couldn’t we wear masks?”

I gave him an amused smile. “You mean sit around in the joint wearing them, waiting for the diversion? Even if we did, if you disappear from town, everybody’s going to know why.”

It began to register on him that I was working up to something. “So what’s your suggestion?” he asked.

“I don’t think you ought to bug out. After the job, I think you ought to sit pat for a couple of weeks before you take off.”

“But suppose I’m recognized?”

“You won’t be there. I can handle Sam and the bartender alone. We’ll give you the safer job of creating the diversion.”

He eyed me fishily. “Then how do I collect my cut?”

“We’ll work that out some way. Arrange to meet somewhere in a couple of weeks.”

He gave his head a slow shake. “You mentioned a minute ago that nobody around here knows your real name, which, I suppose, includes me. It isn’t George Snyder, is it?”

“Nope,” I admitted cheerfully.

“Then I’d never find you if you left me holding the bag. I’m gonna stick right by your side until we split.”

I shrugged. I hadn’t really expected him to be that much of a patsy, but it had been worth the try. “Okay. I never skin a partner, but if you don’t trust me, we’ll work out something else. What’s your suggestion?”

He didn’t have any suggestions, so I made another one. I suggested we sleep on it.

As I unlocked the door to let him out, I said, “I want to case the lay some more. If you come in to Fat Sam’s tomorrow and see me there, don’t do any more than nod to me. Some of the customers may have noticed us talking today, and might think it funny if you completely ignored me. But we don’t want anyone to suspect we’re thick. We’re just casual acquaintances.”

All right,” he said. “You planning to park on the square tomorrow?”

“I’m not even going to drive onto it, if I can help it.”

“Then I’ll give you a tip. Lock your car. It would be safe on the square, because there’s always a lot of people around there, but not on a side street. Not even on a parking lot. The teen-agers in this town carry ignition jumpers. When they’re not turning in false alarms, they’re joy-riding in swiped cars. They always abandon them somewhere in town, so the owners get them back, but it’s a nuisance. Then, too, every so often they crack one up.”

“I’ll remember,” I said. “Now on further contacts, when’s the best time to catch you at home?”