Chandler crushed out his cigarette impatiently.
"Who cares?" he said. "Let's hear the proposition. What's all this crap about the biggest take?"
Maisky's expression was benign, but reproving.
"Please . . . I know you have had many successes, my friend, but try to be patient with me. This is a team . . . we must understand each other, and we must work closely together or we will fail."
"What's the proposition?" Chandler repeated.
"We are here to take two million dollars from the Casino," Maisky said.
There was a long pause of absolute silence. Even Mish suddenly lost his smile of confidence. The four men stared at Maisky with startled, unbelieving eyes.
"Two million dollars?" Chandler said, the first to recover. "Look, I have things to do. What the hell is this pipe dream . . . two million dollars?"
Maisky waved his hand to the whisky.
"Please, help yourselves, gentlemen. Unhappily, I can't . . . doctor's orders." He turned to Perry. "You heard what I said. Jess, I can see, doesn't believe me . . . do you?"
Perry blew a thin cloud of cigar smoke towards the ceiling. "Keep talking," he said. "Don't worry about buddy boy. He's a natural worrier. You keep talking. I'm listening."
Chandler swung around and stared at Perry who stared back. His washed-out blue eyes sent a prickle of fear up Chandler's spine. He wasn't a man of violence and the look Perry gave him chilled him. With a forced, indifferent shrug, he reached for the whisky bottle.
"Okay . . . then talk," he said.
Maisky settled back in his chair.
"For years I have dreamed of finding the big take," he said. "With a few well-chosen men, who know their job, I have finally decided the big take is right here. We can take two million dollars out of the Casino, but only if you all have the necessary nerve, and if you will do exactly what I tell you. If you can't conform to these two simple rules, then let us forget it." His eyes, now ice cold, stared fixedly at each man in turn before he said, "Can you conform?"
Mish said, "Anything you say, doc, I go for. You count me in."
Maisky ignored him, he was staring at Chandler.
"You?"
"Rob the Casino?" Chandler said. "It can't be done. A couple of years ago, a guy put up the very same proposition to me. He thought of walking in there with ten men, but we . . ."
Maisky's smile of contempt stopped him. Again the two men looked at each other, then Chandler said, "Well, okay, if you think you're that smart, I'll listen, but I tell you they have twenty picked guards, foolproof alarm systems and the cops are watching the place all the time . . . but okay, I'll listen."
Maisky said gently, "You must do more than that, Jess. You are either in or you're out . . . now."
Chandler hesitated, then waved his hand in assent. He suddenly realised he was dealing with someone as deadly as Perry, and he knew all about Perry.
"Okay . . . okay . . . count me in. I still think it isn't possible, but if you think it is, then I'll go along with you."
Maisky looked at Perry who grinned at him.
"Sure, I'm with you. Just tell me," he said.
Maisky looked at Wash.
"And you?"
The little negro shifted in his chair, but only because the other men were staring at him and he was always uncomfortable whenwhite men stared at him. He didn't hesitate when he said, "Of course . . . what have I to lose?"
Maisky sat back, smiling.
"That is very satisfactory. Then I take it, if you are convinced, gentlemen, I can rely on you?" He waited long enough for the four Men to nod, then he went on, "Well now, have a drink while I tell you how it can be done."
There was a brief pause as the men re-filled their glasses. Mish offered Wash the bottle of whisky, but he shook his head. They lit cigarettes, sat back and waited, regarding Maisky as he took a thick folder of papers from his hip pocket.
"First, let me tell you a little about the Casino," he said, laying the papers on the table before him. "This is the high season. On Saturday — the day after tomorrow — there will be something like three million dollars in cash in the building. If we get all the breaks, we should get away with two million. Two million dollars split up amongst the five of us makes three hundred thousand dollars each man."
Chandler said sharply, "Not by my arithmetic. I make it four hundred thousand!"
Maisky smiled gently.
"You are quite right, but I will have the major share. You will each have three hundred thousand and I will have the rest because I have had a lot of expenses. I have thought of the plan, I have arranged how it is to be carried out and, if it interests you, I have spent the past nine months in the City. I have had to hire this bungalow and I have had to pay out a considerable sum for information. So . . ." He waved his clawlike hands. "I have the major share."
"Sure, doc," Mish said. "That's fair enough. Three hundred thousand dollars! Gee! That's the kind of money I've always dreamed about!"
"You haven't got it yet," Chandler said.
Maisky leaned forward.
"May I continue? Let me explain about the Casino. Jess says he has already considered robbing the place with ten men walking into the gambling rooms." He laughed. "Well, of course that would not have produced results. On Saturday night, the maximum amount of money on the tables will be around a quarter of a million. The rest of the money remains in the vault immediately below the gambling rooms. When more money is needed, it is sent up in small box elevators. Two armed guards remain by each elevator during the gambling session. When money accumulates on the tables, it is sent down to the vaults. So there is a constant coming and going of money . . . up and down . . . and always heavily guarded." He paused to light another cigarette, then went on, "It became obvious to me after a few days' watching this routine that the vault itself must be our attacking point. Here, the money is kept very neatly. There are four girls in the vault and two armed guards. The girls handle the money: the guards keep watch. The vault is protected by a steel door and no one is allowed to enter except on official business. This has been going on for years. Here is the soft underbelly. So we will get into the vault, take the money and walk out."
He made another deliberate pause while he looked at the four men. Mish scowled and began to scratch his head. Wash sat motionless, his black face expressionless. Perry continued to stare up at the ceiling. Plans like this bored him. All he wanted was to be told what to do and then to go into action. Chandler stared at Maisky as if he thought he was crazy.
"Oh, for Pete's sake!" he said. "Is this a theory? You haven't a hope in hell of getting into that vault. What are you doing . . . having a game with us?"
Maisky took from his jacket pocket a shiny, steel cylinder no more than six inches long. He placed it on the table with the finicky care of a man displaying an artistic masterpiece.
"This is the answer to the problem," He said. "With this, we will have no trouble removing the money from the vault."
The four men stared at the shiny cylinder on the table.
After a pause, Perry said, "Just what the hell is that?"
"It contains a paralysing gas," Maisky said. "It is quite ingenious and it's under tremendous pressure. It is effective within ten seconds."