Sue Grafton - L is for Lawless

"Baby, I have to say this. I don't know what your relationship is with Gilbert, but hasn't it occurred to you he only got close to you so he could get to me?"

"No. Absolutely not. You don't know that," she said.

"Look at the facts. I mean, it only stands to reason," he said. "Didn't he ask about me early on? Maybe not by name, but just the family situation, blah, blah, blah, your dad and stepdad, things like that?"

"So what if he did? Everybody asks things like that early on."

"Well, doesn't it strike you as odd? Here, just 'coincidentally,' it turns out the two of us pulled a job together forty-some-odd years back?"

"Not really. Gilbert knew Paul from work… he's my stepdad," she said in an aside to me. "I guess Paul must have mentioned the name 'Rawson' in some context."

"Oh, yeah, right," Ray said with acid. "Like your stepfather sits around and bullshits about me with the guys at work."

"What difference does it make?" Laura said. "Somehow it came up. Maybe it was karma."

Ray's expression was impatient – he didn't buy that for a minute – but he made that rolling hand gesture that said "Let's get on with it."

"I'm not going to keep talking if you act like that. Ray," she said primly. "You asked for my side and that's what I'm trying to tell you, okay?"

"Okay. You're right. I'm sorry. But let me ask you this…"

"I'm not saying I know all the details," she interjected.

"I understand that. I'm just asking about the logic. Listen, in the gospel according to Gilbert – if what he says is true – then how come I spent forty years in prison? If I blew the whistle, I'd have made a deal. I never would have served a day. Or I'd have pled down and done county jail time just to make it look good."

Laura was silent, and I could see her struggling to come up with an explanation that made sense. "I don't really know. He never went into that."

"Well, think about it."

"I know Gilbert never served much time," she said tentatively.

"Yeah, but he was seventeen. He was still a juvenile and this was his first offense. Johnny always figured it was the younger McDermid, Darrell. Frank was too much of a stand-up guy. Darrell was the one who testified against us in court and ended up doing less than a year himself. You want to know why? Because he turned us in and in exchange they let him plead down to some lesser charge. Gilbert wants to blame me because the little fuck is greedy and wants to justify picking off all the loot for himself. By the way, you haven't said, are you two married?"

"We live together."

"You live together. That's nice. A year, couple years?"

"About that," she said.

"Don't you have any idea what he's like?"

Laura said nothing. Judging from the bruises, she knew plenty about Gilbert. "I don't believe he lied. You're the liar."

"Why don't you reserve judgment until you hear my side of it?"

I held a hand up. "Uh, Ray? Am I going to be surprised by what comes next? Is this going to be like big news and piss me off?"

His smile was sheepish. "Why?"

"Because I'm just wondering how many versions of the story you tell. This is number three, by my count."

"This is it. Last one. Swear to God."

I glanced at Laura. "The man does lie through his teeth, or what's left of them."

"I haven't lied," he said. "I might have failed to mention a couple things."

"A shoot-out with the cops? What else have you failed to mention? I'd be fascinated," I said.

"I can do without the sarcasm."

"I can do without the bullshit! You said Gilbert was a former cellmate."

"I had to tell you something," he said. "Come on. This is not easy. I kept my mouth shut forty years. Johnny Lee and I swore we'd never give anything away. The problem is, he died without giving me some vital information."

"I'm going to get comfortable," I said. I leaned over and pulled the pillows out from under the bedspread and propped them up against the headboard, kicking my shoes off before I settled into place. This was like a bedtime story, and I didn't want to miss it.

"You comfy?" he said.

"I'm terrific."

"Johnny dreamed up this scheme and talked me into going in with him. You have to understand a little background on this. I hope you don't mind."

"If you're going to tell the truth for a change, take your time," I said.

Ray got to his feet and began to pace. "I'm trying to think how far back to go. Let's try this. Ohio River flooded in the winter of 1937. I guess it started raining sometime in January and the river just kept going up. Eventually, there was something like twelve thousand acres underwater all up and down the Ohio River valley. At the time, Johnny was in state reformatory down in Lexington. Well, the inmates began to riot. Sixty of them busted out of there, and Johnny Lee was one. He gets as far as Louisville and disappears in the confusion. He starts helping with flood relief." He paused, looking from Laura to me. "Just be patient," he said. "Because you have to understand how this scheme was set up in the first place."

"Fine with me," she said.

He looked at me.

"Go right ahead," I said.

"Okay. Anyway, thousands of volunteers poured into the city. And nobody asked questions. From what Johnny told me, you pitched in, nobody cared who you were or where you came from. So he's rowing through the west end, saving people off of rooftops. The water's up to the second story in most places – I've seen pictures of this – as high as traffic lights. Damnedest thing you've ever seen. Johnny made this boat out of four barrels and some crates and he's paddling right down the middle of the street. He had the time of his life. He even stuck around afterwards and helped with the cleanup, which is how he dreamed up this heist.

"Lot of buildings collapsed. I mean, the whole downtown was underwater for weeks on end, and when the river receded they put crews in there repairing anything that got broke. Johnny was smart. He knew all kinds of things. He told them he'd done construction, so they put him to work. Anyway, while he's crawling around this basement one day, he realizes he's looking at the underside of a bank. Electrical power's been out for days, so a lot of storm sewers have broken and all this water's flowing past the foundation. There's this crack up the wall that he's supposed to fix. He puts together this patch job wouldn't fool a pro, but there's no one around. Everybody's too busy to pay attention to him. So he tells 'em it's fixed when he hasn't done a thing except cover it up.

He even signs off the inspection with forged signatures. I mean, it's not like there was anyone to double-check his work.

"By the time the two of us meet up… this is now four years later. Back then, big vaults were poured in place, using number five rebar, which is five-eighths diameter, four inches on center, several layers offset. Understand, it's not like I'm the expert. I learned all of this from him. This particular vault was constructed during the Depression – some kind of public works project – so you can imagine how well it was put together in the first place. Vault like that, you can force entry if you got the tools and the time. He said it had always been at the back of his mind, but he knew he needed help once it came time, which is where I come in.

"Johnny starts working on the foundation with this masonry bit. Nights and weekends, he goes in through the basement of the building next door and attacks the substructure. It probably takes him a month, but he's finally right up against the floor of the vault. Nowadays, this shit is all done with high-tech equipment, but in the old days, a successful bank job was the result of pure grit and hard work. It took patience and skill. Johnny figured the alarm system was tougher than the vault. At that point, we had to bring in some other guys because we needed the help. Johnny'd apprenticed with a locksmith, so he'd studied all the manuals and knew the specs by heart, but we needed an alarm man to dismantle the alarms. I'd been in jail with a guy I thought we could trust. That was Donnie Hays, and he brought in his brother, Gilbert. Like she said, Donnie's dead now and Gilbert I got to thank for this." He held up his bruised and bandaged hand.