1977 - My Laugh Comes Last (12 page)

‘Where do we go?' I asked, as we settled in the car.

'Straight ahead. Tenth to the right. No. 45,’ he mumbled, and his head fell forward.

After a ten-minute drive, I stopped outside a walk-up apartment block and shook him awake.

'We're here, Joe.'

He pawed my arm.

‘You're a real pal, man,' he muttered. You take the car back. I'll pick it up tomorrow. Man! Was that drink strong!'

As he made to get out of the car, I caught hold of his arm.

'Joe where is Glenda?'

He stared drunkenly at me.

‘With the boss, man. Where do you think? All nice and snug with Benny breathing down her neck.'

He reeled out of the car and plodded across the sidewalk.

I watched him open the front door and disappear. Then I drew in a long, deep breath.

It seemed to me the cards were falling my way.

'The truck will be ready next week,' Harry said. 'I've got the uniforms fixed.'

We were sitting in cabin six at the Golden Rose motel.

The room was comfortably furnished with a double bed against the far wall, four lounging chairs, a TV set and a liquor cabinet. We were both nursing whiskeys as we sat opposite each other.

'I'll collect the truck around midnight from Frisco,' Harry went on. 'That's no problem. I have a couple of stooges who will be the guards.'

'They know what they are walking into?' I asked.

'Oh, sure. They're picking up a couple of grand. For that money, they would cut their mothers' throats.' He eyed me thoughtfully. 'The one weak thing in this operation is this patrolling guard. How would it be if we knocked him off, and put a guy in his place?'

This suggestion shocked me, but it warned me that Harry was as ruthless as Klaus.

‘The guard is relieved Sunday morning. Get rid of him, and the operation is blown.'

Harry thought about this, then nodded.

‘Yep. I see that.' He scratched at his beard, then smiled.

He said he had a girlfriend who would be waiting on the east side of the bank, and when the guard came around, out of sight of the bank's entrance, she would ask him to direct her to a hotel.

'She's cute,' Harry said, his grin widening. 'She can chat up this guard for at least five minutes: all the time we need to get into the bank. She's done jobs for me before, and she's sharp.'

This seemed to me a sound idea. I had been worrying about the guard.

'I go along with that,' I said,

'Now tell me, pal, is this shindig going to work?'

'My end will. What happens when you get the loot into the truck and take off is up to you.'

He regarded me, his eyes narrowing.

'Why shouldn't we get the money away? You said the alert won't be until Monday morning. That gives us all Sunday to get lost.'

'That's fine.' I sipped my drink. 'Then you have no problem, but that's a lot of money.'

He cocked his head to one side.

'So?'

"You realize Klaus is as nutty as a fruitcake? He's a psychopath.'

'Suppose he is?'

'Three million, Harry. Even a psychopath doesn't give that kind of money away. You're taking all the risks. He just sits back.'

He stiffened and leaned forward.

'So?'

'Anything. I don't have to worry. I'm being paid in advance. It's you who have to worry.'

'You think Klaus could double-cross us?' There was a note of uncertainty in his voice.

‘You are dealing with a nut case. Anything can happen. I don't know. He might be so nutty he will let you three walk away with three million dollars. On the other hand, he might arrange for you and Joe to get knocked off, and take the money for himself.'

Harry scratched his beard, his eyes uneasy.

'Who would knock us off?'

'He tells me he has an organization.'

Harry laughed.

'Sure: he has me, Joe and Benny: that's his organization. He likes to talk big. I'm the guy who knows where to hire help: he doesn't. You're talking a load of crap. Once we get the money, there's nothing he can do about it.'

'There's Benny,' I said quietly.

Harry jerked upright. He looked like a man who had walked into a brick wall.

‘Yeah . . . there's Benny.' He sat silent, thinking, as he stared into his glass.

'Benny is a moronic killer,' I said. 'If you can trust him, you have no problem. I wouldn't trust him further than I can throw him. He bothers me. Given the slightest chance, I think he would knock off the three of us, and drive away with the loot. That's my thinking.'

Harry shifted uneasily. He thought about this, frowning, then finally he said, 'Aw, come on. I . . .'

'What would a moron like Benny do with three million dollars?' I broke in. 'If he knocked off the three of us, he wouldn't know how to handle money that big, but Klaus would. Benny would go to Klaus. Maybe Klaus has already sold him on the idea he'll tell him how to handle the money. So Benny could be a sucker too. What's to stop Klaus knocking Benny off, and vanishing with the money? Three million dollars!'

Harry stared at me, and I could see I had got him worried.

‘You're a smart guy,' he said slowly. 'You've given me something to think about. You do your job, and leave me to look after Benny. Now let's go over the whole operation from A to Z. Right?'

Certain I had sown a seed of doubt in his mind, I produced the blueprint of the bank from my briefcase, and for the next two hours, we worked on the breakin.

Harry was quick and intelligent. His questions were probing, but he seemed satisfied with my answers.

Finally, he said, 'That's it. It looks good to me.'

'Sure?'

'Can't see how it can go wrong. Yeah, it's fine.'

'Tell Klaus that. He's agreed to pay me in advance if you're satisfied.'

He gave me a sly look.

'Looking after yourself, huh?'

'I'd be a sucker if I didn't. I'm not kidding myself you three would share with me. My share comes out of Klaus's pocket.'

'What's he paying you?'

'Two hundred and fifty in bearer bonds.'

I saw his eyes shift.

'Bearer bonds?' he repeated.

‘Yes . . . as good as cash.'

He gave a sly little grin that told me all I wanted to know.

He knew the bonds Klaus had given me were forgeries.

‘You're real smart.' He nodded. 'Bonds are a lot better than a heap of bills.'

'They sure are,' I said, thinking, okay, you twister, my laugh will come last. 'How are you getting rid of the jewellery?' I went on casually as I put the blueprint back in my briefcase. 'There'll be a lot of it.'

'Should be no problem. I've a guy lined up who'll handle it, but there will be cash, won't there?'

‘Yes, but more jewellery than cash.'

He grimaced.

‘You think there's three million in that vault?'

'I don't know: could be more. In a town as rich as Sharnville, there must be a lot of money stashed away in the vault. There are all kinds of big property deals going on right now, and a lot of it will be in cash to avoid tax.'

'Okay. Well, I guess that fixes it.' He got to his feet. 'A real nice operation. Klaus may be a nut case, but he's certainly smart.'

'So Joe tells me.'

‘We'll pick you up at your place at 2.30 next Saturday morning. Right?'

'I'll be ready.'

'And if something turns up, I'll give you a call at your office.'

'Give your name as Benson, and say you're from I.B.M.'

‘Right.'

As we moved to the door, I said, 'And watch Benny.'

'I'll watch him.' He paused and stared at me, his eyes suddenly cold. 'And I'll watch you too, buster.'

Moving by me, he walked out into the darkness to the Chevy. As he drove away, I turned off the stop switch, concealed in the handle of my briefcase, of the tape recorder.

I went over to my car, put the briefcase carefully on the passenger's seat and headed back to my apartment.

Around 11.00 on Wednesday morning, as I put down the telephone receiver after a long call from Bill Dixon, my secretary came in.

'A special delivery for you, Mr. Lucas. It's marked personal.' She put a bulky envelope on my desk.

'Thanks, Mary.'

I waited until she had left, then picking up the envelope by one corner, I carefully slit the flat. The bonds spilled out.

I regarded them. They looked genuine enough, but I wasn't fooled. There was no note. Using my handkerchief, I put the bonds back into the envelope, and locked the envelope in one of my desk drawers.

I sat back and considered my position. I had two damning tapes covering Klaus's talk with me, and Harry's talk with me. I also had Joe on tape. I had Harry's fingerprints on my briefcase. It had been a stroke of luck that he had snatched the briefcase from me as I was about to open it.

His prints would be on record. With any luck, Klaus's prints would be on the envelope and possibly, the bonds. With his record, the forged bonds would get Klaus a long term in jail. I could tie him, Harry and Joe in with the breakin, but not Benny. That bothered me. So far, I had nothing on Benny. Then Mary looked in to say the building contractor was waiting to see me, and for the next three hours, I was all business.

Around 13.00, my usual lunch time, I told Mary I had a special job to do and to send out for sandwiches for me 'I need another tape recorder, Mary. I want to copy some tapes.'

'I'll do that for you, Mr. Lucas.'

'Thanks, but I'll do it myself. For the next hour don't put any telephone calls through: say I'm out to lunch.'

Taking the recorder from her, I locked my office door, and made a copy of the two tapes. Then using my portable typewriter I wrote, in duplicate, to Farrell Brannigan. I told him of my love for Glenda, of Klaus and his blackmail, and of his determination to break into the safest bank in the world.

I told him there was enough on the tapes to nail Klaus, and that the bonds he had given me were forgeries. I omitted no details. I ended by telling him Klaus was threatening to kill Glenda and myself if the bank breakin failed.

I read through the statement, then satisfied, I put it m an envelope, together with the original tapes and sealed the envelope. I locked the copy of my statement with the tape copies in my desk drawer. By then it was 14.15, and I could hear Mary moving around in her office. I unlocked my office door and told her I was ready for business, and a few minutes later the telephone bell began to ring.

It wasn't until after 20.00, when Mary and the rest of the staff had long gone and I had cleared my desk, that I was once again able to concentrate on the problem facing me. I was now satisfied that I had taken care of myself, but not Glenda. Somehow, I had to get her away from Klaus.

According to Joe, she was a prisoner in Klaus's place. At least, I told myself I had all day Thursday and Friday to fix something.

Taking the original tapes and my statement, leaving the copies in my desk drawer, I went down to my car. I had put the gun Joe had given me in the glove compartment of my car. As I started the engine, I took the gun and dropped it into my jacket pocket. It gave me a feeling of security. I parked some two hundred yards from my apartment block.

I was now taking no chances. Carrying the bulky envelope containing the tapes and my statement, my hand resting on the butt of the gun, I walked to the lighted entrance. As I neared the glass door leading into the lighted lobby, I paused, looking right and left, then I started forward again, but immediately stopped.

Sitting in one of the lounging chairs in the lobby, by the elevator, his hat at the back of his head, a racing sheet in his hand, was Benny.

The sight of him sent a chill up my spine. I spun around, and moving fast, I headed back to my car. Obviously, Benny was waiting for me, but why? Seeing the bulky envelope I was carrying, he might grab it. I wasn't ready yet for a showdown with Klaus.

How long would Benny wait for me? I wanted to get to my apartment, but I had to wait until he had gone. I decided I would drive to a restaurant at the end of the street, have dinner and then make a cautious return.

As I paused by my car, I saw Deputy Sheriff Fred Maclain now acting sheriff of Sharnville, walking along the sidewalk towards me.

'Hi, there, Fred!'

He paused, peered at me, then his red, bloated face split into a grin.

'Hi, Mr. Lucas.'

I shook his hand, 'Terrible thing about Joe,' I said. 'I can't get him off my mind.'

‘Yeah.' Maclain blew out his fat cheeks. "We'll get the punk, Mr. Lucas. Don't worry about that. We'll get him!'

'I'm sure you will, Fred.' I paused, then went on, 'I'm just going up to my apartment for quick snort. Then, I have a dinner date. Feel like joining me? I've got some good Scotch.'

'It's bad luck to refuse a drink, Mr. Lucas,' he said, grinning. ‘Lead me to it.'

We walked back together, and into the apartment block's lobby. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Benny stiffen, start to get to his feet, then seeing Maclain, he resettled himself in his chair, staring at the racing sheet. I led Maclain to the elevator, not looking at Benny. I saw Maclain staring at Benny, his little pig eyes hardening.

'Just a moment, Mr. Lucas,' and he walked over to Benny.

'Haven't seen you around here before, stranger,' he said, in his rough cop voice. 'I'm sheriff here. I like to check strange faces. Who are you?'

Benny got hastily to his feet. His brutal face shone with sweat.

'Just resting my dogs,' he said. 'Any harm in that?'

‘You live here?' Maclain barked. He was only happy when he was barking at people.

'No, just resting my dogs.'

"Then rest your goddamn feet someplace else. What's your name, and where do you come from?'

'Tom Schultz,' Benny said, backing away. 'I've got an hour to wait for my train.'

'Come on, Fred,' I said. 'Time's running out.'

Maclain grunted, then waved Benny to the door.

'Get lost,' he said, and as Benny walked out into the night, Maclain grinned, then joined me at the elevator.

'He looked a punk,' he said, as we entered the elevator. 'I hate punks.'

In my apartment, I built him a whisky and soda, and got him settled in a lounging chair.