“I think I’d better go make my phone calls,” Rafe said. “Besides, your ferry’s coming in.”
“Just a moment, Rafe.‘In the long run.’ Remember those words. If you flipped a penny five times in succession, the first five flips might come up tails. If you stopped flipping right there, you might come to the conclusion that a penny will come up tails one hundred per cent of the times it is flipped. Deviation, remember? The difference between observation and reality. Actually, the longer you kept flipping that penny, the closer you would come to the truth. Which is, of course, that it will turn up heads fifty per cent of the time and tails the remaining fifty per cent. So the cops are playing the long run. They’ve got this rather cute, quaint, antiquated, friendly, bumbling law enforcement machine andin the long run, through a combination of choice and chance, they will make their arrests and maintain order—primarily because the percentages are on their side. Most citizens, you see, are law-abiding. But tell me something, Rafe.”
“What?” Rafe asked.
“What happens when someone comes along and screws up the percentages? What happens when the police are forced to cope with something the likes of which they’ve never encountered before? What happens when they’re pushed into dealing with theshort run?”
“I don’t know,” Rafe said. “What happens?”
“We’ll walk off with two and a half million bucks,” the deaf man said. “That’s what.”
THE REAL ESTATE AGENTin Majesta was quite taken with his caller. The man was tall and good-looking, with pleasant blue eyes and a manner reminiscent of the Old South. At the same time, the man knew what he wanted and he wasted no time in stating his needs.
“A small house with a garage,” the deaf man said. “It needn’t be close to the ferry, and I shall only need it for a few weeks. The garage must be large enough to hold two cars; a sedan and a small truck.”
“I see, sir,” the agent said. “And the house? How large a house need it be?”
“It should accommodate four adults,” the deaf man said. He grinned pleasantly. “My colleagues and I are working on a screenplay which will be shot in the city streets this summer. We want two weeks of uninterrupted work, no telephones, no visitors. That’s why we thought of Majesta.”
“I see,” the agent said. “You’re a screen writer then, is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, I knew you weresomething right off the bat. I could tell.”
“Well, thank you,” the deaf man said.
“Sure. And I think I’ve got just the house for you.” He paused. “What movie company do you work for?”
“An independent outfit,” the deaf man said quickly.
“You write anything else besides movie scripts?”
“Oh yes, a great many things.”
“Would I know your name?” the agent asked.
“Perhaps.”
“Well, what is it? I’ll need it for our records, anyway.”
“Thomas Wolfe,” the deaf man said.
“Oh, sure,” the agent said, smiling. “Sure. I think I even read a few of your books. Sure.”
SITTING IN THE PHONE BOOTH,Rafe put a small tick mark alongside the tenth number on his list. There were fifteen numbers after that one, and all of the exchanges were for locations on the south side of the city, or—to be more precise—on the south side of the territory under the command of the Eighty-seventh Precinct. David Raskin’s phone number was among those on the list. So was James Lombardo’s. Dave Raskin ran a dress loft. Jim Lombardo ran a haberdashery. The two men had nothing at all in common. Unless one wished to comment on the fact that Dave’s loft was over a bank and Jim’s hat store was next door to a jewelry concern. Otherwise, there was no similarity.
Of the twenty-five numbers on the list, six belonged to clothing stores, eight belonged to restaurants, one belonged to Raskin, one belonged to Lombardo, three belonged to candy shops, two belonged to leather goods stores, one belonged to a travel agency, two belonged to shoe stores, and the last belonged to a tie shop.
Very innocent-looking concerns.
But Dave Raskin’s loft was over a bank. And Jim Lombardo’s hat shop was next door to a jewelry concern. Thirteen more of the stores on that list were next door to banks. Six were next door to rather fancy jewelry shops. One was next door to a firm which made money loans. Another was next door to a firm which sold silverware. The twenty-fourth store on the list was a Chinese restaurant which was located on the second floor of a building which housed a quaint little shop on the ground floor; the shop had close to five hundred thousand dollars’ worth of Oriental jade in the window. And the twenty-fifth store was next door to a company which dealt in foreign exchange and which kept huge sums of cold cash in its safe.
Rafe dialed the eleventh number on his list and waited for the phone to be picked up on the other end. When the voice came on, he asked, “Mr. Carmichael?”
“Yes?” the man said.
“Get out of that store, Mr. Carmichael!” Rafe shouted. “Get out before the thirtieth, or I’ll kill you!”
8.
“CAR TWENTY-THREE, car twenty-three, signal thirteen, signal thirteen.”
“This is twenty-three.”
“Signal thirteen, seven three five Gramercy Street, repeat seven three five Gramercy Street, complainant Sergei Rosnakoff, stink bomb in incinerator, signal thirteen. Car thirty-six, car thirty-six, signal eleven, signal—”
“This is thirty-six. Go ahead.”
“This is twenty-three, what was that address again?”
“Hold it, thirty-six. I gave it to you twice, twenty-three. What the—”
“This is thirty-six, thirty-six, over.”
“That’s seven three five Gramercy. You got that, twenty-three?”
“Seven three five Gramercy, Roger.”
“Car thirty-six, car thirty-six, come in car…”
IF DELIVERY URGENT BUT PICKUP & HOLD CONTACT RIVERHEAD PCT (*(*(* 98TH PCT 98TH XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXX
INFORMATION REQUEST HQ COMMAND GENERAL REQUEST ALL PCTS ALL PCTS ALL PCTS XXXXXXXXX PRECINCTS GEN REQUEST INFORMATION XXXXXXX MAN’S UNIFORM GREY BRASS BUTTONS TOBACCO POUCH FOUND REMAINS BURNT CHARRED BETHTOWN APT BLDG INCINERATOR XXX SUSPECT POSS POWDER BURNS ON CLOTH XXXXX INFO OR ASSIST UNSOLVED SHOOTING CASES CONTACT HQ XXX HQ COMMAND DET LT DOUGHETY DOUGHERTY DOUGHERTY XXXXXXXX