"A burglary and then what?”
"Do the job," Andrew said.
"That's what I thought.”
"Make it look like a felony murder.”
He glanced at the separating glass partition.
He could perceive the driver only dimly through the tinted glass.
"Do you know what a felony murder is?" he whispered.
"I think so.”
"A murder committed during the commission of a felony.”
Still whispering.
"A burglary is a felony.”
"Yes, I know that. Why didn't you let that bus hit her yesterday? She told me she almost got hit by a bus, but you ...”
“Suppose it only sent her to the hospital?”
"Well ...”
"You know a more public place than a hospital? You want me to do this thing with hundreds of nurses and doctors and ...”
"Well ...”
"... visitors all over the place? The reason I'm asking about a gun, I want to make this thing look like a burglar picked up a weapon of convenience. Do you know what that is? A weapon of convenience?”
"Of course I know what that is.”
"It's a weapon that just happens to be there.”
"Yes, I know.”
"A weapon convenient to the ...”
"Yes, yes," Bowles said impatiently.
"But I just told you, I don't have a gun.”
"What I thought," Andrew said, "is the burglar gets surprised while he's in there, has to kill the lady in self-defense.”
"Well," Bowles said, and shrugged.
"Which is why I'd need the combo to the safe.”
"Why?”
"To open it. To take what's in it. Because this is supposed to look like an interrupted burglary.”
"Well," Bowles said again.
"So what's the combo?”
"I don't think I like this," Bowles said.
"Why not?”
"Because it'll come right back to me.”
"How?”
"My wife's already been to the police ...”
"I know.”
"... told them someone was trying to kill her.”
"Yes, I know.”
"So now a burglar conveniently ...”
"Happens all the time.”
"Maybe so. But if it happens to Emma, the police will automatically ...”
"Let them.”
"Sure," Bowles said, and nodded sourly.
"This is some accident you've arranged, I've got to tell you.”
"I think it's better than an accident.”
"I told you I wanted this to look like an accident. So you're arranging a fake ... what do I tell the police when they get there?”
"You'll be in Los Angeles," Andrew said.
Bowles looked at him. "Far, far away," Andrew said, and smiled.
Bowles kept looking at him.
"In fact, you can leave for Los Angeles ...”
"Why would I go to L.A.?”
"It doesn't have to be L.A., I don't care where you go. Where would you like to go? You can go anyplace but Chicago. The point is, you'll be out of town when it happens. You'll leave three, four days before it happens, the police'll call you and tell you all about this terrible tragedy.”
"They'll know right off," Bowles said.
"Knowing is one thing. Proving is another.”
Bowles was silent, thinking.
"I'm sure Emma told them about you," he said at last. "That I hired a private eye.
I'm sure she'd have reported that.”
"So what? Let them find A. N. Darrow.”
"Well ...”
"Who doesn't exist.”
Bowles was still thinking, trying to find holes in it. Andrew didn't mind that. Sometimes a devil's advocate was valuable.
"They'll know the burglar had the combo,”
Bowles said.
"No, I'll rough up the box, make it look like I worked it.”
"What'll you take from it?”
"Whatever's in it. What's in it?”
"Lots of stuff.”
"Like what?”
"I'm still not sure I want to go along with this.”
"Okay, forget it. I'll find another way.
Only, I have to tell you, you and your fucking accident clause are turning this job into ...”
"You knew what you were getting into.”
"That's true. But I don't like you shooting down a perfectly good idea. It's me who has to do this, not you. What is it? Don't you trust me going into that box?”
"The price we agreed on was a hundred thousand. There's at least that much in the safe.”
"In what?”
"Jewelry, treasury bills, cash ...”
“If you don't trust me ...”
"I didn't say that.”
"If you don't trust me, then take out anything negotiable. Just leave the jewelry. Just leave what a woman would normally keep in a bedroom box.”
“That'd still come to something like fifty thousand dollars' worth of stuff.”
"I'm not a jewel thief, I don't want the goddamn jewels. I'll put them in a pay locker someplace, you pick the place. A bus terminal, a railroad station, whatever. The minute you pay me the second half, I'll hand over the key. Is that fair?”
"If I'm out of town, how can ...?was "I'll wait for you, but I don't want to come anywhere near you till the police get through questioning you.”
"I'll have to think about where," Bowles said.
"Yeah, well, think about it fast, okay? I want to get this thing done. Your wife's starting to give me a pain in the ass.”
"Tell me all about it.”
"Also, I have business to take care of in Chicago. I didn't intend making this job a lifetime career.”
"Well, I'm sorry about that. But you knew what ...”
"Yeah, yeah. Incidentally ...”
He turned to Bowles.
"Did you kill Tilly?”
"No," Bowles said.
"Have the cops been around?”
"Yes.”
"To ask about the Tilly hit?”
"Yes. They wanted to know where I was. And so on.”
"And did you tell them?”
"I did.”
"Where were you?”
"I didn't kill Tilly.”
"That's not what I asked.”
"I was having lunch with a client.”
"Did the cops buy that?”
"They went to see her. She confirmed what I'd told them.”
"Uh-huh. A lady, huh?”
"Yes.”
"Who is she?”
"That's none of your business.”
"You're right," Andrew said, and smiled. "So have you thought it over yet?”
"I want you there when I open the locker,”
Bowles said. "Fine," Andrew said. "Just pick a place convenient to both of us. We're making a federal case out of this fucking ...”
"Wherever," Bowles said.
"Fine, what's the combo?”
"My birthday," Bowles said. "September twenty-third.”
"You're a Virgo, huh?”
"Yes.”
"No wonder you don't trust anybody. So what is that? Nine, two, three?”
"Yes.”
"What's the right-left sequence?”
"Four to the right, three to the left, two to the right.”
Andrew was writing this down. He looked up and said, "Four to the right, stop on nine. Three to the left, stop on two. Two to the right, stop on three. Is that it?”
"That's it. When do you plan to do this?”
"As soon as possible. Few things to figure out yet. I'll let you know." The intercom erupted with an audible click.
"We're on Lewiston, Mr. Bowles," the driver said. "May I have that address again, please?”
"Pulling in," Kling said.
"I see him.”
The limo was nudging its way gently toward the curb.
"Roll it by," Kling said.
Hawes drove past the limo as it maneuvered into what seemed to be the only free parking space on the block.
"Better let me out.”
Hawes double-parked only long enough to let Kling out. Up the street, Denker was just getting out of the limo. From a distance, Kling watched him. He leaned over, said something into the car, and then straightened up and closed the door. Turning away from the car, he walked to a building some two doors up from where the limo had parked. The limo was pulling away from the curb now. Kling started up the street. By the time he reached the building, Denker had already gone inside. He wrote the address into his pad, waited a moment or two, and then stepped into the small entrance hallway.