He had a thin face, receding dark hair, prominent frontal bones in his forehead. His glasses had thin gold rims, and his face and eyes had an oddly colorless look — the face of a severe, dedicated and trustworthy clerk. His dark suit was poorly cut, and he wore a gold wedding band.
“Mr. Ferris, please place the large black suitcase on the bed and open it. It is not locked.”
Ginny saw the metal eye follow Don as he moved. It was a thick-looking revolver with a very short barrel. It had a sullen, dangerous look. Mr. Brown’s fingers, wrapped around it, looked long and white and frail.
Don put the suitcase on the bed and opened it. Ginny glanced into it. Apparently the money had been packed with great care, but in moving it about the top layers of wrapped bills had slipped from their orderly stacks. It all had the cold impartial look of money stacked in a teller’s cage.
“Sit beside Mrs. Mallory, please,” Brown said.
Don sat so close beside her that their thighs touched. Ginny felt a small tremor of his body. “It isn’t Brown, of course,” Don said. “I saw the pictures.”
“Very old pictures.” Brown leaned his back against the frame of the closed door and closed his eyes for a second or two, then opened them very wide. “I am sorry to ask you to do this.” His smile was quick, thin, almost shy. “All my life I have handled money. Now, for some reason, I find it impossible to count this. I begin, and each time I seem to become confused.”
“How did you manage it?” Don asked, and Ginny sensed his attempt to be casual. Her head had begun to ache as a result of the unexpected blow.
“It was not difficult, Mr. Ferris. A matter, actually, of merely walking out with it at precisely the right time. Mrs. Mallory, I suggest you get that paper and pencil from the desk. Call the totals off to her, Mr. Ferris. The numbers on the wrappings are correct.”
Ginny wrote down the neat numbers as Don called them out in a flat precise voice. It took a long time. She had to make two long columns. At Brown’s request she added them, announced the meaningless total. Three hundred and seventy-two thousand, Eve hundred. Brown had Ferris recheck her addition.
“There was more at first,” Brown said. “One bundle I checked and I cannot seem to remember where.”
“What will you do now?” Don asked.
Brown looked at him, expressionlessly. “I should like to sleep, of course. I rather imagine I am expected to make some sort of attempt at escape. But they’ve watched me for years. They’ve forgotten that I know precisely what it feels like to be watched. I haven’t slept in a long time.”
“You’re sick,” Ginny said.
He looked at her and he seemed to be puzzled. “Perhaps.”
“Where were you planning to go?” Don asked.
“I had never completely decided that.”
“They’ll catch you,” Don said.
“An error of fact. They already have. They caught me — a long time ago. Now they’re letting me travel, trying to make me think I’m still — free. I suppose it is a form of torture. I’ve seen them in the restaurants and on the highway. When I turned in here, I knew this was where they had planned I would stop. But I was too tired to leave. I can tell by your eyes that you know all about it. Both of you.”
There was silence in the room. Ginny saw Brown’s arm tremble. He steadied the gun hand by holding his wrist with the other hand.
4
For a few moments Ginny was able to look at the world through the eyes of the sick Mr. Brown. Everyone knew. Everyone watched him. Everyone watched him with cold amusement, superior scorn.
“But it isn’t the way you think it is—” she started.
“It’s no use, Ginny,” Don said. His voice was odd. She turned and looked at him in surprise. There was an odd look on his face. He said, “You’re right, Mr. Brown. We all know about it. We were ready for you when you got here.”
“Of course,” Brown said quietly.
Don leaned forward. “But we could — change sides.”
Ginny saw Brown become rigid. He seemed to cease to breathe for a time. “Why?” he demanded.
Don reached over and placed his hand flat atop the stacked money. “Answer enough?”
“How do I know it isn’t a trick?” Brown asked. “You could pretend to help me get away without their knowing. Maybe you would be merely — continuing the sport.”
Don said scornfully, “Don’t you know us better than that? It’s against the rules for us to take any of the money. Once we take the money it means we’ve turned against them.”
Brown frowned at him. “Is that one of the rules?”
“Didn’t you know that?”
“How much would you have to take?” Brown asked.
Ginny watched Don take a bundle of the currency out of the suitcase. His hand was very steady. She noticed that he picked stacks of the older bills. Stacks of twenties and fifties and hundreds. He took out ten stacks and set them aside.
“This much,” he said.
“It’s a lot,” Brown said.
“But think of the risk we’re taking.”
Brown thought a moment, nodded. “That’s true. What is your plan?”
“Do you know how we’ve followed you?”
“That has bothered me. I’ve changed routes dozens of times when there was no car in sight. But you people have always known.”
“A device was installed on your car. It gives off an electrical impulse. And we’ve followed the car by radar.”
Ginny watched Brown, saw him puzzle it out, accept it. “That explains a great deal,” he said, nodding.
“I’ll disconnect the device,” Don said, “and install it on my car. Mrs. Mallory and I will drive north in my car and they will think you have doubled back on your tracks. You head south. If you’re clever, they’ll never find you again.”
“And how will you avoid punishment?” Brown demanded.
“While we’re traveling north, I’ll disconnect it and throw it out at the side of the road. I’ll report that we were following you and lost you. They’ll think you discovered the device and threw it out yourself on your way north.”
Brown shifted uneasily. He looked at Ginny and then at Don Ferris. “We’ll go to my car and you will show me the device.”
Don shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”
“Another rule?” Brown asked dubiously.
“Of course,” Don said. “I’ll have to do that alone.”
The gun hand sagged slowly. Brown pulled it back up with a visible effort. “I’ll let you out,” he said. “I’ll stay here with Mrs. Mallory. Go change it from my car to yours and come back when you’ve done it.” He reached behind him and unlocked the door. He glanced out, pushed the screen open to back out. Don stood up and took a step toward the door.
Ginny heard a thud, a grunt of effort, a scrape of shoe leather on concrete. The screen slammed. Don stood poised for a moment. Johnny Benton pulled the door open awkwardly and came in, walking Brown ahead of him. Brown’s arm was twisted up into the small of his back, and his lips were flattened back against his teeth with pain. Johnny looked very big, very brown, very welcome. Brown’s glasses hung from one ear. As Johnny shoved him roughly forward the glasses fell to the floor and Brown’s foot came down on them, crunching the lenses. Holding the man with almost contemptuous ease, Johnny examined the revolver in his other hand. He slid it into his hip pocket.
“What goes with this character?” Johnny demanded. “I never heard crazier talk in my life.”
“It’s been in the papers and on the radio for four days,” Don said. He stepped beyond Johnny and pulled the door shut. Johnny had seen the money on the bed. He stared at it and licked his lips and stared some more.