1958 - The World in My Pocket (4 page)

He looked first at Bleck who was relaxed, looking at Ginny, genuine admiration in his eyes. Morgan then looked at Gypo who was staring thoughtfully down at the table, his face puckered, his thick, black eyebrows drawn down in a frown. Then he looked at Kitson who was staring at Ginny, his breath coming in short, sharp snorts through his broken nose.

‘Let’s vote,’ Bleck said and reaching forward, he picked up one of the slips of paper.

Ginny picked up another.

Morgan picked up the three remaining slips, tossed one in front of Gypo and the other in front of Kitson and then taking a ball pen from his pocket, he scribbled on the remaining slip, folded it and dropped it in the middle of the table.

Ginny borrowed his pen, scribbled on hers and laid it beside his.

Bleck had already written on his slip with a gold-capped fountain pen. He waved the slip in the air, then folded it and put it by the other two slips in the middle of the table.

Gypo spent two moments staring down at his slip. Finally, with a stub of pencil, he scrawled something on his slip, folded it and placed it with the other slips.

That left Kitson, who looked worried as he stared at his slip.

The girl and the other three watched him.

‘Take your time,’ Morgan said, the jeering note back in his voice. ‘We have all night.’

Kitson looked up, stared at him, then his eyes moved to the girl. For a long moment they regarded each other, then abruptly he picked up Morgan’s ball pen, scribbled something, folded his slip and tossed it on top of the other four.

There was a pause, then Morgan pulled the five slips towards him and unfolded one.

‘Yes.’

He unfolded another.

‘Yes.’

His fingers moving fast, he unfolded the remaining three slips.

‘Yes and yes and yes.’

He looked around the table, his thin mouth curving into its wolfish smile.

‘So we’re going to do this job. That’s the way I hoped it would work out. Two hundred thousand bucks each! Some job, but some payoff!’

Kitson looked across the table at Ginny.

She stared back at him, her chin tilted, then suddenly her expression softened and she smiled at him.

CHAPTER TWO

I

A
little after eight o’clock the following morning, a black, dusty Buick Century slid to a standstill a few yards from the entrance to the Welling Armoured Truck Agency. On either side of the broad street were parked cars, left overnight, and the Buick immediately blended in the scene as just another parked car.

Morgan sat at the wheel, his greasy stained hat tilted over his nose, a cigarette hanging from his thin lips. Ed Bleck sat at his side.

The two men looked over at the high wooden gates of the Agency. There was nothing to see except barbed wire tangled on the top of each gate, a glittering brass knob that was the bell-pull and the big sign screwed to one of the doors on which was printed in bold red letters on a white background the following legend:

The Welling Armoured Truck Agency
You want security - We have it.

The Safest and Best Trucking Service in the World

‘They seem to think a lot of themselves,’ Bleck said when he had read the sign. ‘Well, they’re due for a surprise.’

‘Or we are,’ Morgan said with his jeering grin.

‘I have a hunch we’re going to get away with this job,’ Bleck said. ‘This frill has really worked it out, hasn’t she?’

‘Yeah.’ Morgan took his cigarette from between his lips and stared at the glowing tip. ‘The plan’s right, but all depends on the way it’s carried out. There’re a number of weak links. Gypo bothers me. It’s crap for the girl to say we have all the time in the world to bust open the truck. We haven’t. Okay, we have a certain amount of time, but that’s all. Once they start searching for it, the heat will be on good, and the quicker we bust it, the safer for us it’s going to be. So Gypo will have to work under pressure. That’s something he’s never done. It’ll be nervy work. He could flip his lid.’

‘Then it’s up to us to see he doesn’t,’ Bleck said. ‘I’m not worrying about him.’ He glanced at Morgan, his pale eyes hard and restless. ‘The more I think about the setup the more obvious it becomes we’ll have to kill these two guys. If we don’t, they’ll have a description of us, and that could cook us.’

Morgan shrugged his shoulders.

‘Yeah, I know, but you don’t have to spread it around. The other two are jittery enough already.’

Bleck looked at him.

‘She isn’t.’

‘That’s a fact.’

‘Who is she, Frank?’

Morgan shrugged his shoulders.

‘I don’t know. She doesn’t belong to this town. It’s my bet she’s worked with some outfit before.’

‘That’s what I think.’ Bleck glanced at his wristwatch. ‘Know what? I don’t believe she worked this plan out herself. I don’t believe a kid of her age could dream up all the answers the way she claims to have done. It wouldn’t surprise me some mob has already worked on the job - a mob she was in with - and they either got cold feet or they’re going to pull the job and she’s stolen their plan and is trying to beat them to it. Maybe they wouldn’t give her a big enough cut. We’ve got to watch her, Frank. It wouldn’t do for another mob to move in at the same time as we do, and it wouldn’t do for them to beat us to it.’

‘Yeah.’ Morgan pushed his hat to the back of his head irritably and frowned. ‘I’ve thought of all that. We’ve got to take a chance. We can’t do it before Friday week, if then. There’s a lot to be done. How’s the time?’

‘Just on half-past eight.’

‘The bus is due then.’

‘Yeah.’

They looked down the road to the bus stop where a group of people were waiting.

‘She’s a sexy piece, isn’t she?’ Bleck said, staring through the windshield. ‘She’s got a shape on her like a roller coaster.’

Morgan stiffened. His flat, black eyes moved on to Bleck’s face.

‘Since you’ve dragged up the subject, let me tell you something,’ he said, his voice harsh. ‘This girl’s to be left strictly alone. There’s going to be no monkey business. She’ll be with us for a couple of weeks; probably longer. The way we’ll be living could make it tricky. She’s going to be right bang in the middle of us for twenty-four hours of the day. I don’t want any of you to get wrong ideas about her. No monkey business. Let’s get that straight from the start.’

Bleck lifted his eyebrows, a cynical expression on his handsome face.

‘Have you reserved her for yourself, Frank?’

Morgan shook his head.

‘No. I’m telling you: this is strictly business. This setup is much too important and the take much too big for us to have woman trouble as well. There’s going to be no monkey business and I mean that. Whoever tries to start something with her is going to walk into a belly load of trouble from me.’

Bleck met the cold, snake’s eyes and grinned a little uneasily.

‘Have you talked to Kitson? He’s the boy to watch. He was staring at her last night like a stricken bull.’

‘You all three want watching,’ Morgan said curtly. ‘You’re no plaster saint yourself nor is Gypo.’

A little gleam of anger appeared in Bleck’s eyes.

‘Did you polish your halo this morning, Frank?’

Morgan started an angry retort, but then stopped short as he saw the bus coming around the corner.

‘Here it is,’ he said. ‘Keep your eyes skinned.’

Both men leaned forward to stare through the windshield.

The bus pulled up at the stop and two men got off. One of them was short and skinny; the other was around six foot tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted and he held himself stiffly upright. He was wearing the bluff blouse and slacks of the Welling Armoured Truck Agency’s uniform. Set squarely on his head was the peak cap with its glittering cap badge His shoes had been polished until they looked like patent leather, so too was his pistol belt and holster. He walked with a quick, springy step, and his movements were those of an athlete in training.

The two men in the Buick watched him pull the brass bell knob at the gate.

‘That him?’ Bleck asked.

‘Yeah.’ Morgan’s eyes were running over the man and what he saw gave him a little stab of uneasiness. ‘That’s Dirkson. Thomas will be on the next bus, coming the other way.’

‘He could be a sonofabitch,’ Bleck said, also not liking the look of the guard. ‘He’ll be as quick as a snake, and he’s got guts. Look at that chin!’

Dirkson had turned and was looking indifferently towards the parked Buick, not seeing it. He was around twenty-five or six. He couldn’t be called good-looking, but there was strength and character in his face that Morgan was quick to recognize.

‘She’ll have to kill him,’ Bleck said and he felt sudden damp patches under his arms. ‘Has she seen him yet?’

‘Yeah. She saw him yesterday. He doesn’t scare her. She says she can handle him.’

The gates had opened and Dirkson disappeared from sight, the gates closing behind him.

‘A fast, determined joker with a lot of guts,’ Bleck said soberly. ‘I guess Kitson was right. This guy isn’t going to cry quits, Frank. We’ll have to take him.’

‘That’s going to be your job. We can’t leave it to the girl. He’ll probably be much too fast for her,’ Morgan said, not looking at him. ‘I’ll take care of the driver. You’ll be out of sight with a rifle. When he leaves the truck, you’ve got to have him covered all the time. If he starts anything with the girl, you’ve got to kill him. Understand?’

Bleck felt his mouth turn dry but he nodded.

‘Sure. I’ll take care of him.’

‘Here comes the other bus,’ Morgan said. ‘Here comes my piece of meat.’

Thomas, the driver, was a tall, rangy man with a fiddle-shaped face, widely spaced, cold eyes, a jutting chin and a thin, tight mouth. He was immaculate as Dirkson had been and carried himself upright the way Dirkson had carried himself. He looked the older man: around thirty or thirty-three. He moved with an assurance that impressed Morgan, who screwed up his snake’s eyes, wrinkling his nose.

‘He’s another,’ he said in disgust. ‘They’ve certainly picked two bright boys to handle their truck, haven’t they? Both of them spell trouble. I’ll have to kill this beauty. I’m not kidding myself about that. He’s not going to quit.’

Bleck took off his hat and wiped his forehead. His heart was thumping unevenly.

‘If we queer this, Frank, we’ll be in a hell of a jam.’

‘The take’s a million dollars,’ Morgan said. ‘The way I see it is this: I’m forty-two. Fifteen years of my life have been spent in jail. The other years were just another kind of jail. The only thing in life that means a damn is money. Without money, you’re nothing. With money, you’re somebody. It’s as simple as that. Two hundred thousand bucks in my pocket means I’ll be alive. Without it, I might just as well be dead. So what? That’s the way I look at it. No one; no smart, tough guard is going to stop me getting my hands on that amount of dough. So okay, we slip up and we’re in a jam. That’s a fact. I’m not disputing it, but can’t you see we’re in a jam right now - all of us? Who cares if any of us is dead? Who cares if any of us is alive? Who cares about us anyway? But if each of us has two hundred thousand bucks in his pocket, then that’s another story. We suddenly become people and that’s what I’m going to become. That’s what you’re going to become too - right?’

Bleck put on his hat.

‘I feel that way too, but know what I think? I think Kitson and Gypo were influenced by the girl. I think they didn’t want her to think they hadn’t the guts to go through with this job. I think that’s why they voted with us.’

‘So long as they voted why should we worry?’ Morgan said.

‘Now, they’ve got to go through with it.’

‘If their nerve lasts.’

‘It has got to last.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ Bleck said and made a gesture. ‘If those two. . .’

‘If we get the truck,’ Morgan said, speaking slowly and distinctly, a threat in every word, ‘we’ll bust it open with or without the other two. You don’t imagine I’d get so far and then quit?’

Bleck nodded.

‘Okay. Then there’s another thing. Looks like we’ll have to raise at least two thousand bucks to finance this thing. That was something we didn’t go into last night. How do we raise the dough?’

‘We’ll have to do a job,’ Morgan said. ‘A small one, something that won’t get us into trouble. I’m thinking about it. With the big one ahead of us, I’ve got to watch it not to pick on something that’ll put the cops on our tails.’

Bleck sucked at his cigarette.

‘How about the filling station on Highway 10? The one on the left as you leave Dukas.’

‘Maybe,’ Morgan said. ‘It could be knocked over for two thousand, but I’d rather pick on something a little quieter, not on the highway. I was thinking of that all-night cafe on Maddox

Street. After the theatres it gets pretty full and the people who go there have money. We might pick up a lot more than two thousand if we have any luck. It would be a straightforward heist job. I’m working on it now.’

Bleck grimaced.

‘It could be rugged, Frank. I don’t like that kind of job. You never know if someone’s going to turn hero.’

‘It’ll be good training,’ Morgan said with a grim smile. ‘We know for sure these two will be heroes. We may as well get used to the idea. That cafe could be worth three grand if we’re lucky. Besides, we’ll take the girl along with us. I want to find out for sure if her nerve is as good as she makes out it is.’

‘Who else will be on the job?’

‘Kitson will handle the car. You and me will handle the heaters and the girl collects the dough.’

‘Gypo on the easy end of it again?’ Bleck asked with a sneer.

‘Look, Ed, you’re always making those cracks about Gypo. We don’t want him on a job like this. He’s our technical man. He’s no good on a caper like this and you know it. He is going to bust open the truck. No one else in this outfit can do it, so he’s going to be reserved for that job and that job alone. Get it?’

‘Oh, sure. One of these days I’ll learn to be a technical man myself,’ Bleck said shrugging. ‘Where are we going to get the caravan from?’