Макс Коллинз - Spree

Comfort thought about that, just momentarily, waved a hand at Nolan dismissively, and said, “You’re right.” Then he looked at his photocopy of the map. “These places you X’ed are the targets, then—”

“Twelve stores,” Nolan said, “not counting the three big department stores, all of which are worth hitting.”

“And not counting the bank,” Winch said.

“Right,” Nolan said. “Not counting the bank.”

“What’s this double X,” Dooley asked, “near the back entry, on the east side of the building.”

“That’s where the maintenance and security people work out of,” Nolan said. “The security guy will be off duty, and we’ll drop a Mickey Finn in the janitor’s coffee.”

“Who will?” a Leech asked.

“I’ll take care of that,” Nolan said. “Now, note the three major department stores — Petersen’s on the east end, Penney’s in the middle, and I. Magnin at the west end. I. Magnin, of course, is the most important of these. Expensive merchandise.”

Another Leech said, “And that’s where the loading docks are.”

“Right,” Nolan said. “Behind each of the major department stores. Which is perfect for us. Easy loading access to one of the semis, no matter what store you’ve been ‘shopping’ at.”

He went on to explain why he’d chosen the various stores — the leather shop, for example, carried an inventory of leather goods and furs amounting to well over a quarter mil — and indicated a priority list, which shops to hit first, and began making assignments. To best utilize manpower, the truck cabs would sit empty with the exception of the middle one, where Jon would sit, as point man.

“Why him?” Comfort said.

“Why not?” Nolan said.

“Somebody’s gotta watch,” a Leech said. “Let him do it. He’s just a little guy.”

“What about guns?” Dooley asked.

“What about them?” Nolan said.

Comfort said, “Whoever wants to carry, carry. If you need something, just ask; I got some extra pieces. I’ll be packing and my boy will and the Leeches. I assume you will too, Phil.”

Dooley nodded, but Winch said, “I don’t have shit to do with guns.”

Comfort shrugged. “Up to you.”

Fisher looked up from his note-taking to say, “I have a stun gun. I don’t like bullets. Very crude.”

A Leech said, “Why ain’t the Walgreen’s got an X?”

“Why should it?” Nolan asked. “That’s dime-store stuff.”

Another Leech said, “They got a pharmacy.”

Yet another Leech said, “Meaning drugs.”

Nolan looked at Comfort, who shook his head no, violently.

“No, sir,” he said. “That’s one thing I won’t abide. I never dirtied my hands with dope.”

The Leeches looked at each other, doing comic takes, as if to say, “The guy’s crazy, but what are you gonna do?” Nolan tended to share that sentiment; the notion of Cole Comfort drawing the line somewhere was pretty fucking absurd.

Fisher said, “I was in DeReuss Jewelry today. I spotted the tear-gas alarm. It’s a wall-mount — turns on and off with a cylindrical key.”

“I saw it too,” Dooley said, nodding. “I could pick it, like any lock.”

“I’d suggest not,” Fisher said. “It could have a time sequence of some kind — turn the key right for three seconds, back three seconds, and right again, or whatever.”

“It’s bound to be a simple sequence,” said Dooley, nodding, “but that doesn’t make it easy to guess.”

“I’d suggest just knocking the metal plate off,” Fisher said, “and jumping the wires. Not much different from hot-wiring a car, actually.”

“And that would take care of the tear gas,” Nolan said.

“Should,” Fisher said.

“You know, a mall’s a big place,” a Leech said, making as profound an observation as Nolan guessed a Leech could make.

“And we’re going to be all spread out,” another Leech said.

“How’ll we keep in touch?” the final Leech said.

“Yes, Uncle Donald,” Jon said. “How?”

Nolan almost smiled at that, but again it was lost on the Leeches. “Walkie-talkies,” Nolan said. “Clip right on your belt. Radio Shack has plenty in stock; I checked.”

“Did you buy them at a discount?” Jon asked wryly.

“No,” Nolan said. “They’re the first things we’ll steal. That’s called five-finger discount, where I come from.”

The meeting went on one more hour and two more pitchers of beer. Nolan answered questions and they went over the details. It was a big job, but simple in many ways, particularly once it had been broken down into man-by-man tasks. The hardest thing was the loading they’d all be doing — particularly hauling the larger appliances on dollies and carts to the waiting semis. It would be a long hard night of physical labor. The hourly wage would be considerable, however.

As the party began breaking up, Nolan saw Fisher head for the john and followed him in. As they were pissing at adjoining stalls, he told Fisher he needed to talk to him privately, and Fisher agreed to drive out to Nolan’s house, once well shy of Comforts and Leeches.

Before he left, Comfort patted Nolan on the shoulder and said, “You’re doing fine. Keep it up, and everything’s gonna work out.”

“Keep up your end and it will.”

Comfort only smiled his disarmingly engaging smile and left. Why did that sadistic son of a bitch have such a warm, friendly smile?

When the restaurant was empty, Nolan, who’d had none of the beer, poured some whiskey in a shot glass and asked Jon if he wanted any. Jon, who rarely drank, said, “Fuck yes.”

They sat at a small table and drank the whiskey and Nolan said, “Did you notice Comfort’s thick kid Lyle didn’t say anything all night?”

“You’re wrong, Nolan,” Jon said, swirling his whiskey in his glass, staring at the dark liquid like it was a crystal ball hiding his future. “His presence spoke volumes.”

“What do you mean?”

“If he’s here, who was baby-sitting Sherry?”

“It occurred to me she might be dead.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You think your new squeeze Cindy Lou was watching Sherry. Sitting in for brother Lyle.”

Jon nodded and kept nodding. “Yeah. I sure do. And I don’t think she’s going to like it.”

“You don’t.”

“She may be a little slut, but she didn’t strike me as a bad kid. She didn’t strike me as somebody who’d get much of a kick out of playing jailer, either.”

“She’s a Comfort.”

“Yeah, but she’s disenchanted with her family, with her old man. And tonight they made her an accomplice in a kidnaping. She isn’t stupid. She’ll figure that out.”

“What are you saying?”

“Let’s not snatch her. Let me try to link up with her tomorrow and, shit, try to get her on our side.”

“I don’t know.”

“I think I can get it out of her.”

“You mean you can get it in her.”

“No, I mean I can get it out of her — where Sherry’s being kept.”

Nolan thought about it. “We could also just grab her and trade her to her father even up for Sherry.”

“If that’s the way you want to go, I’m in. But you were right — on our worst day we’re not as bad as that evil cocksucker. And that evil cocksucker knows it.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning he knows that he’s capable of killing your girl. And he also knows you’re not capable of killing his daughter.”

“I’m capable of cutting off her fingers one at a time and sending them to him.”

“No you aren’t.”

Nolan drank some of the whiskey.

Then he said, “We’ll try it your way. Talk to her. Fuck her again. When she’s coming, ask her where Sherry is.” He let some air out. Finished the whiskey. “Come on. Fisher’s probably invented a black box by now to open my garage door.”