I went to the parking lot half a block away and collapsed in my car.
I tugged my collar with my finger, got a lungful of air, started the car, and drove casually to the hardware store. By the time I parked behind the store, I’d transferred the money to the heavy brown paper bag and stuffed it under the seat of the car. I was practically twitching with nervous eagerness to count the money. Driving along with commonplace innocence, the important work taking place with my free hand below window level, I’d caught only glances of the neatly banded money. But I knew there was plenty. I’d never seen so many stacks of fifties and hundreds in one place in all my life — except in the bank. I was certainly grateful to Landers Mills for paying but twice a month, on the first and fifteenth.
I started to lock the car, then decided against it So far, everything was perfect. I’d driven directly from the bank, in plain view of the town. Judy and I were experiencing a routine, commonplace day. I wasn’t in the habit of locking the jalopy this time of year. The money was safely out of sight I went into the store.
Fortunately, there were customers to help pass the morning. Even so, I had to make three trips to the gent’s room inside of an hour.
Then at ten fifty-six by the clock on the far wall, which had a pendulum behind a fly-specked front that advertised Maney’s Merrygrow Manure, the waiting was all over.
Like a well-fed, full-bosomed turkey with a gray topknot, Mrs. Threckle came to the door of the office, spoke my name, and motioned to me frantically.
I hurried to her. “What is it, Mrs. Threckle?”
“Terrible thing...” she gasped, “terrible... a bank robbery... They’ve got Judy at police headquarters...”
I had to grab the office door framing to keep from folding to the floor like a collapsing letter Z. This part wasn’t an act, either. I thought wildly: They’ve caught her, and she’s trying to protect me, going it alone...
“You poor, dear boy!” Mrs. Threckle said. “You must get down there right away. I’ll explain to Mr. Harper.”
I could think of several other directions more preferable. Then Mrs. Threckle saved me from a nervous breakdown.
“She hasn’t been hurt Davie. There was no shooting. They’ve merely taken her down to get a description of the robber.”
Several minutes later, a jalopy full of holdup money was parked in plain view in front of police headquarters. Inside the building there was turmoil. Each time I tried to stop a hurrying policeman, he would jerk his thumb over his shoulder, pointing deeper into the building. “Busy, bud.”
Finally I spotted old Silas Garth ambling placidly from a doorway.
Silas has been on the force just about as long as the town has had a charter. He paused in the corridor, more intent on picking something from his teeth than picking up a bank robber.
“Mr. Garth...
“Oh, hello there, Davie. Guess you’re looking for Judy.”
“Yes, sir. Is she...”
“Simmer down, son. She’s fine. Come on back in the squad room and we’ll have a game of checkers until Hoskins and Crowley and that lie detector technician are through with her.”
Poor Judy, I thought. Going through hell, that’s what.
“What happened, Mr. Garth?”
He shrugged as we walked down the corridor together. “Yegg came walking in, let Judy have a peep at a gun, gave her a second to read the note he shoved in her hand, and walked back out with about sixty-five thousand dollars in a brown paper bag.”
“Yowie!” I yelped. “Sixty-five thou... Is there that much money in the world?”
“Shore is, Davie. And I’m feared this hoodlum made it out of town.”
“How come you say that, Mr. Garth?”
“Judy — bless her darling heart — was so paralyzed with fright she couldn’t give the alarm right away. And when she realized she was in no danger of the gun, she fainted dead away.”
“But you said she was fine!”
He laid his hand on my arm. “She is now, Davie. Take it easy, will you?”
“Was she able to give them a description of the robber?”
“General is all. Middle-aged, ruddy, medium height, sort of heavy set. My opinion is, he’s an old pro at the robbery game, Davie.”
“How come you say that, Mr. Garth?”
The old man started putting checkers in their proper squares on a board that rested on a rickety card table. “We got ways of lifting prints nowadays from surfaces like paper. The note he handed Judy had no prints on it but hers. Reckon he knew his prints would identify him.” Mr. Garth shook his head. “Be frank with you, Davie, lots of these yeggs get away with it, at least for one or two outings.”
“You don’t think they’ll catch him?”
“I wouldn’t make book on it, son. His chances decrease all the time, of course. Next time out, he may get caught and we’ll break our case then.”
“Mr. Garth, if you don’t mind, I couldn’t keep my mind on a checker game right now.”
“Sure, Davie.” He flung his arm about my shoulders. “We’ll go upstairs, son, and see if we can’t make it easier on that poor girl.”
We went upstairs, and I sought a gent’s room while Mr. Garth disappeared into an office. I was pacing the corridor when he opened the office door and came out behind Judy.
She ran straight to me, and I folded her in my arms.
Mr. Garth clucked affectionately. “Judy didn’t stretch none of the details of the description, according to the polygraph, Davie. Now you take that girl down the street and buy her a cup of coffee.”
I said, “Yes, sir, Mr. Garth!”
Judy and I were still slightly delirious when Mr. Eggleston knocked on my door at ten o’clock that night.
He slipped in quickly, and I closed the door. He looked from me to Judy, a smile dividing his lean, hawkish face.
“Well, kids, we pulled it off!”
“We sure did, Mr. Eggleston, and your five thousand dollars is ready for you.”
His eyes went frigid. He pulled a short-nosed gun from his side coat pocket.
“Wh-what is this, Mr. Eggleston?” It was the real thing.
“I’ve waited all my life for the really big one,” he said. “Do you think I’d let a couple of hick kids stand in my way? Now get the money!”
“But Mr. Eggleston...”
“All of it! Now! If it hasn’t occurred to you, none of us can squeal without implicating himself.”
I was unable to move or think for a second. “But if you shoot that gun, Mr. Eggleston, somebody will hear it.”
“And you’ll be dead. I’m offering you a deal, Davie. Two lives for the money.”
“You’re crazy,” I said.
“No — and don’t let the money destroy your sanity, kid. If I shoot the gun, I’ll have a good chance of getting away. You won’t have any chances, period. I’m willing to make the gamble, Davie. I’m too old, I’ve waited too long to let this final chance slip away from me.”
His cheekbones began to turn white, and he added: “I’ll give you ten seconds to make up your mind, David.”
I didn’t know Judy had risen. Now I felt her pressing against me. She shivered. “Davie... he is a little mad. He means it!”
“Sure I do,” Eggleston said cold-bloodedly. “Six... five... four... three...”
“Give him the money, Davie,” Judy sobbed, holding onto me wildly.
“In the closet,” I said numbly. “The small valise.”
Everything around me had a kind of swimming quality. Mr.
Eggleston floated to the closet, the valise floated to his hand. He flipped the catch, peeked quickly inside, pressed it closed with his left hand. The gun still on us in his right hand, he floated out the door.
Judy didn’t have to work the next day, it being Saturday. I called the store and reported I was too sick to work.