The World in My Pocket

Dirkson had turned and was looking indifferently towards the parked Buick, not seeing it. He was around twenty-five or six. He couldn’t be called good-looking, but there was strength and character in his face that Morgan was quick to recognize.

‘She’ll have to kill him,’ Bleck said and he felt sudden damp patches under his arms. ‘Has she seen him yet?’

‘Yeah. She saw him yesterday. He doesn’t scare her. She says she can handle him.’

The gates had opened and Dirkson disappeared from sight, the gates closing behind him.

‘A fast, determined joker with a lot of guts,’ Bleck said soberly. ‘I guess Kitson was right. This guy isn’t going to cry quits, Frank. We’ll have to take him.’

‘That’s going to be your job. We can’t leave it to the girl. He’ll probably be much too fast for her,’ Morgan said, not looking at him. ‘I’ll take care of the driver. You’ll be out of sight with a rifle. When he leaves the truck, you’ve got to have him covered all the time. If he starts anything with the girl, you’ve got to kill him. Understand?’

Bleck felt his mouth turn dry but he nodded.

‘Sure. I’ll take care of him.’

‘Here comes the other bus,’ Morgan said. ‘Here comes my piece of meat.’

Thomas, the driver, was a tall, rangy man with a fiddle-shaped face, widely spaced, cold eyes, a jutting chin and a thin, tight mouth. He was immaculate as Dirkson had been and carried himself upright the way Dirkson had carried himself. He looked the older man: around thirty or thirty-three. He moved with an assurance that impressed Morgan, who screwed up his snake’s eyes, wrinkling his nose.

‘He’s another,’ he said in disgust. ‘They’ve certainly picked two bright boys to handle their truck, haven’t they? Both of them spell trouble. I’ll have to kill this beauty. I’m not kidding myself about that. He’s not going to quit.’

Bleck took off his hat and wiped his forehead. His heart was thumping unevenly.

‘If we queer this, Frank, we’ll be in a hell of a jam.’

‘The take’s a million dollars,’ Morgan said. ‘The way I see it is this: I’m forty-two. Fifteen years of my life have been spent in jail. The other years were just another kind of jail. The only thing in life that means a damn is money. Without money, you’re nothing. With money, you’re somebody. It’s as simple as that. Two hundred thousand bucks in my pocket means I’ll be alive. Without it, I might just as well be dead. So what? That’s the way I look at it. No one; no smart, tough guard is going to stop me getting my hands on that amount of dough. So okay, we slip up and we’re in a jam. That’s a fact. I’m not disputing it, but can’t you see we’re in a jam right now - all of us? Who cares if any of us is dead? Who cares if any of us is alive? Who cares about us anyway? But if each of us has two hundred thousand bucks in his pocket, then that’s another story. We suddenly become people and that’s what I’m going to become. That’s what you’re going to become too - right?’

Bleck put on his hat.

‘I feel that way too, but know what I think? I think Kitson and Gypo were influenced by the girl. I think they didn’t want her to think they hadn’t the guts to go through with this job. I think that’s why they voted with us.’

‘So long as they voted why should we worry?’ Morgan said.

‘Now, they’ve got to go through with it.’

‘If their nerve lasts.’

‘It has got to last.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ Bleck said and made a gesture. ‘If those two. . .’

‘If we get the truck,’ Morgan said, speaking slowly and distinctly, a threat in every word, ‘we’ll bust it open with or without the other two. You don’t imagine I’d get so far and then quit?’

Bleck nodded.

‘Okay. Then there’s another thing. Looks like we’ll have to raise at least two thousand bucks to finance this thing. That was something we didn’t go into last night. How do we raise the dough?’

‘We’ll have to do a job,’ Morgan said. ‘A small one, something that won’t get us into trouble. I’m thinking about it. With the big one ahead of us, I’ve got to watch it not to pick on something that’ll put the cops on our tails.’

Bleck sucked at his cigarette.

‘How about the filling station on Highway 10? The one on the left as you leave Dukas.’

‘Maybe,’ Morgan said. ‘It could be knocked over for two thousand, but I’d rather pick on something a little quieter, not on the highway. I was thinking of that all-night cafe on Maddox

Street. After the theatres it gets pretty full and the people who go there have money. We might pick up a lot more than two thousand if we have any luck. It would be a straightforward heist job. I’m working on it now.’

Bleck grimaced.

‘It could be rugged, Frank. I don’t like that kind of job. You never know if someone’s going to turn hero.’

‘It’ll be good training,’ Morgan said with a grim smile. ‘We know for sure these two will be heroes. We may as well get used to the idea. That cafe could be worth three grand if we’re lucky. Besides, we’ll take the girl along with us. I want to find out for sure if her nerve is as good as she makes out it is.’

‘Who else will be on the job?’