Handy turned farther around in the seat, so he could talk full-face with Menlo. “Listen. If what we wanted was to get a confession out of Kapor, we’d let you handle it all the way. That’s what you’re a pro at; we’d follow anything you said. But what we’re doing is breaking into Kapor’s house and grabbing his goods, and that’s what we're pros at. So you just let us do it, O. K.”
“My dear friend,” said Menlo, looking concerned, “please not to misjudge me. I mean no distrust of your abilities. You are most certainly professionals at your craft, and I appreciate this. It is in a spirit of curiosity only that I ask these questions. I would like to learn more.” This was all said too earnestly to be sarcasm; Menlo was perched forward on the seat, his hands pressed to his chest in a gesture of honesty.
Parker would have just told him to keep his mouth shut and watch and learn, but Handy didn’t mind talking. “All right,” he said, “I’ll explain it to you. There’s three ways to handle the getaway. You can do like you said, just take off and keep going, maybe a couple hundred miles. Or you can just go two blocks and hole up there till the heat’s off. Or you can go a few miles and hole up and wait four or five hours and then take off and go your couple hundred miles. Now, if you do the first, take off and keep going, you’re on the road all the time you’re the most hot, and that’s the way to get yourself picked up fast. If you hole up real close and stay there a week or two, you’re right where the most cops are doing the most looking, and that’s the way to get picked up six or seven days after the job, when you go out for more groceries. But if you hole up nearby for a few hours, you throw everybody off stride. If the law is after you and they’ve thrown up roadblocks, they stay up for a few hours and then the cops figure you either got through quick or you’re holed up, and they take the roadblocks down. See what I mean? Right after the job is when they do their looking on the roads, and later is when they do their looking in town. So right after the job is when we stay in town, and later on is when we’re on the roads. It’s a feint, like in basketball. You go, but you don’t go, and then you go.”
Menlo nodded happily. “Yes, I follow. I can see where that would be the method most difficult for the authorities to counteract. But in this case, we need have no fear of authorities. Kapor will feel his loss most deeply, of course, but he will not contact the police.”
“Not Kapor, no. But suppose some servant sees it first, that somebody’s broken in, and calls the cops before he tells his boss? So whether Kapor likes it or not, the law will be in on it. Or maybe the Outfit is still hot for that money, and they’ll show up at nine-thirty, the way you originally figured. They find out the swag is gone, the Outfit’s after us. Or maybe it’s your old group, friend’s of Spannick’s. We do it the safe way, the reliable way, and we never get jugged.”
Menlo smiled with a touch of sadness. “I must say you remove the romance most utterly from all this. I had been seeing myself in quite dramatic terms. The defecting policeman, meting out poetic justice to the embezzler by depriving him of his ill-gotten gains, then disappearing again, quite forever, an enigma to all who seek him. But now I find I am merely a participant in a dreary and pedestrian series of quite normal activities — opening doors, driving automobiles, sitting in motel rooms.” He shrugged and spread his hands.
Parker slowed the car. The motel was just ahead — the Town Motel. They’d picked it because it was on the right side of the road, and because it was built in a U shape, on a slope down from the road, so that parked cars could not be seen from the street.
Parker made the turn, drove down into the court, and parked. Handy thumbed the watch and read it. “Just over eighteen minutes.”
“Not good,” Parker said.
“It’s the fastest way,” Handy told him.
They’d spent most of the afternoon trying various suburbs and motels, and this one had been the quickest by far. So now they had run it again at the same time of night they would be coming over it Friday. It was Wednesday, and they could expect a little more traffic on Friday, but they’d still done well. The traffic had been heavy, with the majority of the drivers — like the majority of all eastern drivers — spending the majority of their time in the passing lane. Parker had driven mostly in the right-hand lane, and had made better time than any other car on the road.
Still, he wasn’t satisfied. “What if we holed up right at Kapor’s house, until maybe two or three in the morning? Menlo, will Kapor be coming home alone?”
“Alas, no. Kapor is notoriously a party giver. A select group of friends, perhaps fifteen or twenty, will probably return with him from the dinner. This is always his habit, and I see no reason to expect that it will differ on Friday.”
Parker shrugged. It wasn’t good. Eighteen minutes on the road; with Friday’s traffic, probably twenty or more. Their direction would be obvious before they were six blocks from Kapor’s house. Twenty minutes was plenty of time to set up a block in front of them. He shook his head. “Let’s go inside and study the map.”
They clambered out of the car, Menlo with difficulty, and went up the stairs to their second-level rooms. Parker and Handy had a double, Menlo a single, three rooms down the hall.
In the room, Menlo settled in the most comfortable chair, while Handy stretched out on his bed. Parker got out the Washington-area map and studied it, frowning. “We could go over to a parallel street, but coming back’s no good. The lights along the road out there give maximum red to the side streets. We’d just sit there, half a minute or more.”
“Then we work a switch,” Handy said. “Use another car on the job, and stash the Pontiac along the way.”
“That’s better. Adds more time, but it’s better. Who knows about the Pontiac?”
Handy considered. “Nobody,” he said. “Clara knew, that’s all. Menlo’s boys grabbed me in Clara’s place.” He looked over at Menlo. “Were they following us?”
“No, no. They waited at poor Clara’s apartment for you to arrive.”
“O.K. So the Pontiac’s clean.”
Parker folded the road map and put it away. He turned to Menlo. “Next question. What tools do we want?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Tools, tools. The dough isn’t just sitting out on a coffee table, is it?”
Menlo’s smile was faintly surprised. “My dear friend, you most certainly don’t expect me to tell you where to find it. My usefulness would then be at its end, would it not? You have been so kind as to include me only because of this one piece of information I have and you do not.”
“I’m not asking you where it is. I’m asking you what do we need to get at it. Like if it’s buried under concrete we need a pick, and maybe a couple caps of dynamite. Or if it’s in a safe, we need a drill and a set of pullers for the combination or maybe some nitro, depending on what kind of safe it is.”
“Ah, I see. The professional mind at work once again. But there is no difficulty, I assure you. No special tools will be required other than our own efficient hands.”
Parker nodded. “All right. What size bag do we want? How big a bundle?”
“Well, I have not as yet seen this cash in actuality, only in my imagination. But from the manner of its secretion, let us say, I would suppose a container approximately the size of your suitcase would be more than sufficient.”
“I’ll get another one tomorrow, just like it.” Parker got to his feet and lit a cigarette, pacing back and forth across the room. “Once more, to be sure. Kapor’s leaving the house at five o’clock. The chauffeur’s driving him, and will wait for him until the dinner is over. His bodyguard’s going with him too. The cook will fix stuff for the party later on, but she’ll be out of there by six, and so will the gardener. Kapor won’t be back before ten, and maybe later. Between six and ten nobody’s home.”