Parker said, “Tie his wrists behind his back. And his ankles. And do a good job.”
“All right.”
It took too long, because Dunstan was fumbling so much, but when he finally said he was done Parker checked and it was a good job. The wire wasn’t cutting into the cop’s skin, but it was tight enough to hold.
He did the gag himself, taking off one of the summer shirts he was wearing and ripping it into lengths. One piece he stuffed into the cop’s mouth, the other one he tied around his mouth and head to keep him from spitting the first one out.
Next he had Dunstan stand in the frisk position, facing a wall, feet well back, leaning forward with arms outstretched and hands supporting his weight against the wall; not to search him, simply to put him out of the play. Dunstan now would first have to get his balance before he could do anything else, so in the unlikely event he was thinking of trying anything, Parker now had him safely defused.
It didn’t take long to switch clothing, shucking out of his jacket and all the summer clothing he’d picked up from the men’s shop in New York Island, then putting on the police uniform. The cop was a little shorter than he was, but also stockier, which helped to equalize things. The sleeves of the Ike jacket were noticeably short, but other than that, everything gave the appearance of a pretty good fit.
Once he had the uniform on, he said to Dunstan, “Okay, stand up again.” When Dunstan turned to face him he said, “This is what’s going to happen. We’re going outside together, the two of us. We’re going down to the gates, and wait for somebody to unlock them, and then we’re going out to your car, and we’re going to take a little ride. You behave yourself and nothing will happen to you, and after you drop me you’ll be able to come back here and take care of your friend. But I’m going to have a gun on you all the time, and if you try anything when we go outside you’re going to be the first casualty. I may be the second, but you’ll be the first. You follow that?”
“You won’t have any trouble from me,” Dunstan said. “I didn’t want to have anything to do with this from the beginning, it doesn’t matter to me one way or the other, whether you get caught or you get away or what. I won’t try to stop you or make any trouble — “
“All right,” Parker said, and Dunstan’s mouth snapped shut. He looked very helpful, eager, wanting to know what he should do. Parker told him, “What we’re going to do, because the guys on the gate would see I’m the wrong guy, I’m going to be wounded and you’re going to have to do the talking. And your job is to get the two of us out of this place.”
Dunstan was nodding all the way through Parker’s instructions, and when Parker was done he said, “I understand. Don’t worry, I know what to do.”
“All right, that’s good.” Parker nodded at the gun on Dunstan’s hip. “Now there’s that,” he said. “I want you to take it out very slow, using thumb and forefinger only, and holding it only by the butt. Go ahead.”
Dunstan did it, moving so slowly Parker almost told him to speed it up. But sweat was breaking out on Dunstan’s face now, the idea of drawing his gun with Parker armed and standing in front of him was shaking him up so much he was liable to faint, so Parker waited him out, and when Dunstan finally held the gun out to him Parker took it, flipped open the chamber, and shook the cartridges out. Then he gave the gun back to Dunstan and told him, “Put it back in your holster.” When Dunstan started trying to do it while holding the gun with thumb and forefinger, he said, “No, you can hold it the regular way now.” Dunstan made a nervous embarrassed laugh and put the gun away.
Parker now had two guns of his own, the automatic he’d taken from Ed and the Smith & Wesson Police Positive .38 revolver now in a holster at his belt. He had the holster flap open and tucked in behind the revolver butt so he could get at the gun in a hurry, and now he opened the zipper of his Ike jacket and tucked the automatic inside the waistband of his trousers. He closed the Ike jacket again and picked up the shirt he’d already ripped partway for the other cop’s gag. He separated the rest into two long strips and tied them both around his head, obscuring most of the right side of his face, including his right eye. When he put the cop’s hat on, he tilted it forward and to the left, covering more of his face.
Dunstan watched him nervously, and finally said, “What if somebody asks us what happened?”
“We thought we saw somebody in here, so we came in after him and I tripped over a wire and laid my head open. You’re taking me home, and after I get the wound cleaned and put a bandage on it we’ll both be back.”
Dunstan nodded, too quickly. He was like a beginning actor with stage fright on opening night. “All right,” he said. “I’ll do’ my best.”
“That’s good,” Parker said. He went over and put his arm around Dunstan’s shoulders, and Dunstan recoiled wide-eyed, as though afraid he was about to be strangled.
Parker held his shoulder, didn’t let him go. “I hurt myself,” he said. “Remember? I need you to help me to the car.”
“Oh,” Dunstan said. “Oh, yes, all right.” He reached his left hand up to grasp Parker’s left wrist and put his right arm around Parker’s waist.
Parker said, “Don’t let that hand get too close to the gun.”
“Oh, no! I didn’t even think of that!”
Parker was sure that was true. “Let’s go,” he said.
Seven
THE TWO cops came out of the Voyage Through the Galaxy building, the one leaning heavily for support on the other, his head covered in what looked like impromptu bandages. His head lolled forward as they moved out into the sunlight and turned toward the gates.
To Parker’s right as they moved slowly along was the fun house, where he’d counterattacked first last night. It had been a long time since last night. Next after the fun house was the little island with picnic tables, and off beyond that was Marooned!, the black-light ride where he’d hidden the satchel full of money.
He didn’t like leaving here without the money, he didn’t like it for a lot of different reasons. In the first place, it meant he’d expended all this effort, first on the armored-car job and then in here, for no profit. In the second place, they would have to know, Lozini and his people, that although their quarry had gotten away he hadn’t managed to take the cash with him, and they would now take this park apart looking for the seventy-three thousand. It didn’t seem to him the money was hidden very well for that kind of search.
But there wasn’t any choice. This whole operation was iffy enough as it was, trying to pass himself off as somebody else in front of people who knew the guy he was supposed to be. To try carrying a satchel out as well, when one of the things everybody in here was looking for was a satchel full of money, just wasn’t going to be possible.
Some other time. A few months from now, maybe, or maybe next summer, he could come back and see if his money was still there. And if it wasn’t, he knew who to collect from.
Lozini.
“Hey!”
It was a voice behind them, and it had to be for them. Parker felt Dunstan hesitate, but he said under his breath, “Keep moving,” and Dunstan moved forward again.
“O’Hara! Hey, O’Hara, where the hell are you going?”
Parker could hear the putt-putt now, the sound of the little cart Lozini had been riding around in all morning. The gates were maybe a dozen paces away, too far to walk before Lozini could catch up.
Parker said to Dunstan, “Remember the story.”
“I remember.” Dunstan’s whisper was shaky and scared.
“Make it work,” Parker told him.
Then Lozini’s cart came wheeling around from behind them, the tires squeaking on the snow as the driver brought it to a stop, and Lozini was leaning out of the cart and saying, “What the hell happened? O’Hara?”