Anson looked at him with cold blue eyes. “We’re on federal territory. I have no jurisdiction here.”
We looked up the valley at Hadley struggling up the rim of the valley. He’d reached the cross that marked the spot where the fastest kid had lost the race. He struggled on by without stopping, but I knew that safety was beyond his reach.
Hard Times
by Barbara Owens
© 1996 by Barbara Owens
A former Edgar Award winner, and an EQMM Department of First Stories author, Barbara Owens has been featured regularly in EQMM since 1978. The Skovich and Hacker detecting team, however, is of relatively recent origin. The idea for the forty-something Skovich and his young partner Hacker came to Ms. Owens in 1992 and hasn’t let go of her since.
They looked out of place in a busy squad room accustomed to society’s dregs — four elderly men aligned on a bench, plainly but neatly dressed. Becker came back from the front desk, said they’d informed him they wanted to speak to a detective and that it was none of his business what it was about.
Hank Skovich cupped his swollen jaw and eyed them sourly. “Looks like a senility lineup. Give them to somebody else.”
“Nobody else available right now,” Becker responded cheerfully. “They’re all yours.”
Terry Hacker was studying the old men with amused interest. “I think I’ve seen them before. Aren’t they the old guys who stake out one of those benches in the park down the street?”
“I don’t know,” Skovich sighed. “Okay, Becker, send them back.”
They came in single file. Skovich and Hacker pulled four side chairs into a semicircle around their facing desks and the old men sat, straight and smiling. Hacker made the introductions. One of the four, a balding gentleman with a sharp chin, nodded and cleared his throat.
“We’ll hold onto our names, if it’s all the same to you, until we see how you boys take to what we’ve got to say,” he announced in a whiskey voice. “Then if you don’t see things our way, we’re outta here and nobody’s the worse for it, know what I mean?”
Skovich shifted irritably. “Sir, if you have information regarding a crime, that’s what we’re here for. Let’s don’t waste time.”
The old man’s eyes were blue and faded, but there was still a sparkle there. He gave Skovich a sympathetic grin.
“Got a bad toothache, haven’t you, sonny? Looks like you feel rotten. Well, be glad you still got your own. Just have it dug out, did you?”
Skovich winced at the thought, but found himself muttering, “Wisdom tooth. Going to come out as soon as the infection lets go.”
The old man asked and his three friends nodded with understanding. Skovich suddenly felt a little more kindly. “So what can we do for you?”
The old man leaned forward eagerly, grasping the desk’s edge with both hands. “We want to let you know about a crime. Hasn’t happened yet but it’s gonna. The bank on Central, just around the corner, is gonna be robbed.”
“You mean Citizens Bank?” Hacker asked.
“That’s the one. Gonna get hit.”
Skovich cocked an eyebrow. Another harmless crank. “When’s this going to happen?” he asked. “And how is it that you know about it?”
“Gonna be Thursday,” the old man answered. “Or Friday. It depends.”
Suddenly another voice — the old duffer with the polka-dot tie. “P.T., I told you I can’t do it Thursday,” he protested in a mushy stage whisper. “My daughter’s coming up that day.”
The sharp-chinned man stiffened, whipping toward him. “Shut up, Marsh! Now look what you’ve done. This is all for you, you damn fool!”
The detectives exchanged looks. The corner of Hacker’s mouth twitched. “You men are going to rob the bank?”
P.T. threw up his hands and slumped back in his chair. “Well, you screwed it up, Marsh, just like I knew you would. Didn’t I say let me do the talking?” He exhaled a long sigh. “Okay, officers, here’s the story. I’m P.T., the bigmouth is Marsh, that’s John on the end, and this fat one here is Sid.”
Sid lunged to his feet to shake the detectives’ hands. Sid had a hot glint in his eye. “It was my idea,” he announced loudly.
P.T. said, “Sit down, Sid,” and Sid sat. P.T. sighed again. “Now we’re not crooks, not a one of us, and we got a reason for this. That’s why we’re here. Detectives, we got to get Marsh some new teeth. He broke his old ones and he can’t hardly eat a thing. So we figured out how much new ones is gonna cost and that’s all we’re gonna steal, right down to the penny.”
He fished into his jacket and pulled out a wrinkled slip of paper. Fascinated, the pain in his jaw all but forgotten, Skovich took it.
“And we’ll pay it back as fast as we can,” P.T. went on. “But our problem is, we’re not as young as we used to be, know what I mean? And we don’t want anybody getting hurt, least of all us if we’re a tad slow making our getaway. So we figured if we told you about it first, you might let us go on and do it without shooting us dead. Or sending us to the pen. That’s no place for men our age.” He was smiling, clearly pleased with his reasoning. “So what do you say? We got us a deal?”
The detectives were momentarily speechless. Skovich finally roused himself. “Now look here,” he began, “we can’t make a deal like that. What you’re proposing is a crime, no matter how old you are.”
P.T. slumped again. His lip curled. “Then I guess we’ll just have to take our chances, boys,” he said. “Our men in blue are heartless when it comes to the common comforts of life.”
“I’ve seen you all before,” Hacker put in. “You live around here, don’t you?”
Sid tilted forward, eyes burning. “The Cozy Corners Retirement Home,” he spat out. “How’d you like to live in a place called Cozy Corners?”
“Never mind, Sid,” P.T. advised wearily. “They don’t care. Try to be a good citizen and this is what you get.”
“Wait a minute,” Skovich protested, wondering why he felt guilty. “Surely you men have pensions and health care of some sort. There must be another way to get money for the teeth.”
“Well, sure there is,” P.T. snapped, shooting erect again. “That’s already in the works. But, you see, this is the second set Marsh has busted this year. You don’t know yet, sonny, but it’s hard times when you get old. Lose your sayso. Other people tell you what’s gonna happen to you. Yeah, Marsh’ll get his new teeth but nobody’s in a hurry about it. It’s drug on now for a coupla months and no end in sight. I tell you, there’s not many pleasures left when you get this old, but eating is one of them and Marsh is real partial to that.” Marsh grinned agreement, baring naked pink gums.
“Now I know he ought to cut out hard candy and cracking his choppers on it,” P.T. said. “But seems to me a man ain’t a man unless he can make his own decisions, know what I mean?”
Everyone was silent for a moment. “Maybe we can come up with another way,” Skovich said finally. “You men don’t really want to rob a bank, do you?”
Sid shot forward. “I do!”
“Well,” P.T. said, “I have to admit it sounded like fun. Break the monotony, you know.”
“I’ve got a cousin who’s a dentist,” Hacker volunteered. “Maybe we can work something out with him.”
Skovich stood up. “Good idea. Come on back to the lunchroom for coffee and donuts. Let my partner make a call.”
The old men rose in unison. “No coffee for me, thanks,” P.T. announced. “I’ve drunk an ocean of it in my time, but these days it makes my eyes bug out. I never turn down a donut, though. Whaddaya say, Marsh? You can gum a donut, can’t you?”