1958 - The World in My Pocket (7 page)

Some dish, Bleck thought, eyeing her as she paused at the door that gave on to the steep staircase that led to the room Strieger rented to those who wanted some privacy.

Ginny was wearing a pair of black slacks, tight across her seat, and a bottle-green shirt, open at the neck.

But she’s a toughie, Bleck thought, finishing his whisky. Where does she come from? She could be fun. Maybe I’ll soften her up a little. After the job, we might go places together for a week or so. She’s got spirit, and with a body like that.

He got to his feet and crossed the room and followed the girl up the stairs. He overtook her as she reached the landing.

‘Hi, Ginny,’ he said. ‘We’re the first two. Those pants certainly suit your geography.’

She turned and looked at him. Her sea-green eyes were disconcertingly bleak.

‘Think so?’ she said, then she opened the door and entered the room, flicking on the light as she did so. She went over to the table and sat down. Opening her bag, she took out a comb and a mirror and began to tidy her copper-coloured hair.

Bleck pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. He stared admiringly at her, watching the way her breasts lifted under the soft material of her shirt as she raised her arms.

‘Well, if s fixed for tonight,’ he said. ‘Scared?’

She put the comb and mirror away and took out a pack of cigarettes.

‘Scared? What’s there to be scared about?’ she asked, indifferently.

‘You’re pretty cool,’ Bleck said, staring at her. ‘I don’t believe you are scared.’

He reached across the table, offering the flame of his cigarette lighter.

For a long moment she studied the flame before leaning forward to dip the end of her cigarette into it. Her full, red lips curved into a smile that came and went so quickly Bleck wasn’t sure if she had smiled.

‘What’s so funny?’ he asked, his voice sharpening.

Again her eyes went to the flame of the lighter and he looked at it too. He saw it was far from steady, and he realized his hand was shaking. He snapped out the flame and sat back, forcing a grin.

‘You’re right. I’m scared, and I’ll tell you why.’ He folded his arms on the table and leaned on them. ‘I’m scared we’ll foul up this job tonight and sour the big one. I don’t like this job. I tried to talk Frank out of it. It would be safer and easier to stickup that service station at Dukas, but he won’t have it. With this cafe job, someone might turn brave. If that happens you have a shooting on your hands. If someone gets shot tonight, the heat’ll be on so bad the big one could come unstuck.’

She let smoke drift down her nostrils as she stared at him.

‘Then we must take care no one does turn brave.’

‘Easier said than done.’

She lifted her eyebrows.

‘Is it? If you show a vicious dog you’re not scared of it, it’ll behave. It’s the same with brave people.’

Bleck frowned.

‘I can’t make you out. Have you worked for a mob before?’

Her eyes became cloudy.

‘Then don’t make me out,’ she said curtly.

Bleck shrugged.

‘Okay, if you want to play it mysterious, go ahead. But remember this: you have the toughest end of the job tonight. You have to collect the wallets. Some guy might make a grab at you. So watch it.’

Because he was so uneasy about the job himself, he hoped she too would become uneasy, but there was no change in her expression as she said, ‘No one will make a grab at me.’

The door opened and Kitson and Gypo came in.

Kitson paused abruptly when he saw Ginny and Bleck alone together and his face flushed, his eyes becoming angry.

‘Here comes the bridegroom,’ Bleck said, and he began to sing Mendelssohn’s Wedding March in a raucous voice.

Gypo chuckled, his small black eyes dancing with merriment.

He thought the joke harmless and a good one.

Kitson turned white.

‘Shut up!’ His voice shook. ‘Cut it out!’

Bleck stopped singing and leaned back in his chair, a jeering grin on his face.

‘So what? You and she? He waved towards Ginny who sat motionless, her eyes on Kitson. ‘You two are the newlyweds, aren’t you? Frank said you and she were renting the caravan for your honeymoon.’

‘I said cut it out!’ Kitson said.

‘What’s biting you, stupe? Don’t you want to have a honeymoon with her?’ Bleck said. ‘You have the soft end of this job. What could be nicer than to have a baby like her all alone in a caravan: that is if you know what to do when you’ve got her alone.’

Kitson took two quick steps that brought him to the table. His fist flashed up and slammed against Bleck’s jaw. Bleck went over backwards, taking the chair with him and landed on the floor with a crash that shook the room. He sprawled there, staring up at Kitson, his eyes dazed.

‘Get up, you louse!’ Kitson said, ‘and I’ll shove your teeth through the back of your head!’

‘Hey, kid!’ Gypo cried, horrified.

He grabbed hold of Kitson’s arm, but Kitson gave him a shove that sent him reeling across the room.

Bleck shook his head. His eyes became full of hate as he stared up at Kitson.

‘I’ve always wanted to take you, you punch-drunk bum,’ he said. ‘Now I’ll show you what fighting really means.’

As he got to his feet, Morgan came into the room.

Gypo said breathlessly, ‘Stop them, Frank! They’re going to fight!’

Morgan took four quick sliding steps forward so he was between the two men, his back to Kitson while he faced Bleck.

‘Gone out of your head?’ Morgan asked with artificial politeness, his snake’s eyes glittering.

Bleck hesitated, then he shrugged, pulled his coat into shape, ran his fingers through his hair, jerked out a chair and sat down.

He stared down at the table, rubbing his aching jaw.

Morgan turned and looked at Kitson.

‘You start trouble in this mob,’ he said, ‘and you’ll be in plenty of trouble yourself. I’m not telling you a second time. Sit down!’

Kitson slouched to a chair away from Ginny and Bleck and sat down.

Still nervous, Gypo came over to the table and hesitated beside Ginny.

‘Mind if I sit here?’

She shook her head.

‘Why should I?’

Smirking with embarrassment, Gypo sat down.

Morgan began to prowl around the room, a cigarette hanging from his thin lips, his hat tilted over his eyes.

‘Okay, fellows,’ he said, ‘pay attention. We do the job tonight at ten minutes past twelve. That’s when the place will be full, and the chances of anyone busting in on us small. Kitson handles the car.’ He paused to stare at Kitson. ‘You know the district. You remain with the car with the engine running. If it turns sour, you wait for us, then take the first on the left to cut out the traffic lights. I’ll leave it to you to shake off whoever is following us. Okay?’

Still scowling, Kitson nodded.

‘Ginny: you and Ed and me,’ Morgan went on, continuing his prowling, ‘will go inside. Lu’s lending me a machine gun. You, Ed, will have your gun. Ginny goes in after me, then Ed will take care of the door. As soon as we’re in, Ed’ll pull down the blind on the door. I’ll get up on the bar so I can cover the whole room. The chopper should cool any hothead. As soon as we have them where we want them, Ginny will go around and collect the wallets. We don’t want anything but cash. If anyone comes in, it’s your job to handle them, Ed. The whole job shouldn’t take more than five minutes if we work fast. That depends on you, Ginny. Watch it no smart Alec makes a grab at you as you take his wallet. We don’t want any shooting unless it really turns sour.’

Gypo’s small black eyes rolled as he listened. He was glad he wasn’t participating in this job.

Kitson rubbed his knuckles and stared down at the table. He too was thankful he had charge of the car. It needed a hell of a nerve to walk into that cafe and quell some forty to fifty people and he wasn’t sure if he would have had the nerve to do it.

Bleck was still seething with fury that Kitson had hit him, but Morgan’s words shifted his mind away from Kitson and he experienced a cold, tight feeling in his stomach.

‘Well, okay,’ he said, ‘if you’re satisfied this is the way to do it, Frank, but I don’t like it. We could take on something not so rugged.’

Morgan paused in his prowling.

‘I know that, but we’re doing this one because it’s going to get us into the right shape for the big job. I know what I’m doing, Ed. This job will tell me if anyone of you is likely to sour the big one. That’s why I’ve picked it.’ He came over to the table and looked directly at Ginny. ‘This is your test. You’ve talked a lot and it has sounded convincing. Now I want to see if it is all talk.

That’s why I’ve given you the tough end of the deal.’

The girl looked steadily at him.

‘I’ll handle it,’ she said. ‘It’s not all that tough.’

Morgan smiled.

‘We’ll see. Well, okay, that’s it. Let’s break it up now. Kitson, you bring Gypo’s car to the cafe at twelve-ten. Is your watch right? What do you make it now?’

‘Eight-twenty,’ Kitson said, consulting his strap watch.

‘Eight twenty-three,’ Morgan said, checking his watch. ‘Lu will give you the machine gun. Have it on the back seat. You come to the cafe on your own. Ed and me will come on foot. As I go in I’ll pick the gun out of the car.’ He looked over at Ginny. ‘You come along Maddux Street. Be there at twelve-ten. We’ve all got to be dead on time. Have you got a watch?’

Ginny nodded.

‘Okay,’ Morgan said. ‘Collect the gun as you go out, Kitson. You go with him, Gypo, and make sure that heep of yours doesn’t let us down. See you at twelve-ten, huh?’

Kitson got to his feet. He paused, looking uneasily at Morgan, then his eyes moved to Ginny and away again. He turned and walked across the room to the door with Gypo following him.

When they had gone, Morgan sat down.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

She lifted her eyebrows.

‘Why shouldn’t I be?’

‘Look, don’t give me that stuff,’ Morgan said sharply. ‘I’ve done dozens of these jobs in the past, but I still get a little scared. Don’t try to bluff me. I’m asking you - are you okay? Do you still want the tough end of this job?’

She held out her hand, a half-burned cigarette between her slim fingers. The smoke curled straight up. The cigarette was rock steady.

‘Do I look scared?’ she asked, then she pushed back her chair and stood up.

The two men stared at her while she looked directly at Morgan.

‘Twelve-ten,’ she said. ‘Be seeing you.’

She turned and made for the door, her hips moving provocatively as she walked. She opened the door and went out, shutting the door behind her without looking back.

‘A toughie,’ Bleck said and grimaced.

‘Maybe,’ Morgan said soberly, ‘but I’ve seen the tough ones crack at the wrong moment. We’ll see.’ He got to his feet. ‘Okay: let’s get out of here.’

II

A
t five minutes past midnight, Morgan and Bleck got off the streetcar at the corner of Maddux Street. They crossed the road and paused in a dark shop doorway, looking across at the Palace All-Night Cafe.

Lights showed through the curtained windows. They could see part of the bar through the glass door.

Morgan flicked his half-smoked cigarette into the street.

‘There it is,’ he said.

‘I bet Gypo’s thanking his stars he isn’t on this caper,’ Bleck said, aware that his heart was thumping sluggishly and his hands were moist.

‘I’m thanking my stars he isn’t on it either,’ Morgan said. He too was aware that his heart was thumping and that his mouth was dry. ‘As soon as Kitson drives up, we cross the street.’

‘Yeah,’ Bleck said, his hand going to his hip pocket and resting on the cold butt of his .38. ‘There she is,’ he went on as he saw Ginny walking towards the cafe. She was still wearing her black slacks and the bottle-green shirt, but she had concealed her hair under a green scarf, and as she passed under a streetlight, Bleck realized how much the copper-coloured hair helped her kind of beauty. Now it was concealed she looked quite plain. At that moment the dusty Lincoln came down the street and pulled up outside the cafe.

‘Here we go,’ Morgan said, and crossed the road with long, swift strides.

The street was deserted. They could hear the jukebox grinding out a waltz from inside the cafe.

Morgan paused long enough to reach into the back of the Lincoln and snatch up the machine gun.

‘Take it easy,’ he said to Kitson. ‘When we go, we go fast.’

Kitson grunted; his hands tight on the steering wheel.

Bleck had taken out his handkerchief and was tying it across the lower part of his face. His hands were shaking so badly he had trouble in fixing the knot.

Ginny had already masked her face, and she was standing by the cafe door. Down by her side, she held a .38 Police Special.

Morgan didn’t bother to mask his face. He was an old hand at this game, and he knew everyone got so scared they seldom were able to give the police any useful description.

‘Let’s go,’ he said, drawing in a quick, deep breath.

He moved up close to Ginny.

‘You open the door, then get out of my way.’

‘I know.’

Her voice was flat and steady, and he glanced at her, their eyes meeting.

Well, she’s cool enough, he thought. I wouldn’t have thought it possible. a kid like her.

She opened the door and leaned against it, giving him room to pass her. He stepped into the noisy, overheated cafe. Bleck, sweat soaking the handkerchief tied across the lower part of his face, moved forward as Ginny followed Morgan. He closed the door and pulled down the blind.

There were two men at the bar who looked casually over their shoulders as they felt the sudden night air come through the open doorway. They stared at Morgan, and then at the machine gun in his hands. Their unbelieving eyes moved to Ginny’s masked face and they stiffened, their faces turning white.

Morgan shouted: ‘Get out of the way! Get back!’

The buzz of conversation throughout the room suddenly began to peter out. Morgan’s voice had cut the air the way a razor cuts through silk.

The two men nearly fell over themselves as they crowded back.