“And what were they fixing to do?”
“To kill us, that’s what!”
He said he’d caught Bud drawing his finger over his throat, when he thought he wasn’t looking, and Pal nodding his head. He said, “They meant to let us have it, right here in this car, before they made the switch. That’s the split they intended to make. That’s what they meant to do!”
“Funny I didn’t catch on.”
“Or maybe they didn’t mean you. Maybe, for you, Pal had different ideas. Maybe the both of them did.”
“What different ideas?”
“What do you think?”
“...Rick, you shoving off or not?”
But instead of getting out, he pushed the bag down so it was standing right-side up on the back seat where he was, instead of being upended in front of the window. Then he opened it, cocking the hinges so it wouldn’t fold shut. He began transferring the money, pitching it in from the basket, every which way, without bothering to pack it neat. When he got done the bag was nearly full and he snapped it shut. I said, “OK, but I’ve run past our turn, the one I take for the alley. We’re in West Baltimore. I’ll have to run back.”
So I did, circling around, taking four or five turns. Then at last I came to the cross-street, turned into it, then turned into the alley. The blue was still there and I parked behind it, just as I had before. I set the brake and got out, taking the key ring. I walked to it, peeped inside to make sure no one was there, and unlocked it. I got in, tried the new key in the ignition to make sure it would turn on. It did and I started the motor. Rick tapped on the right-hand window, and I threw the lock to let him get in. But he reached around inside the front door, undid the lock on the rear door, opened it, and put the bag on the back seat. Then he got in beside me, locking both right-hand doors. But he hadn’t brought my bag. I got out and went back to get it. And when I opened the driver’s door to take it from the front seat, that money was still there, that bunch of ones, fives, tens, and twenties that had spilled out when Rick got in, to be under my feet, in the way. I grabbed them up and stuffed them into my handbag. Then I went back to the blue and got in. As I pulled away Rick asked, “Where do we go from here?”
“Well, one thing at a time, let me think.”
“Well, where do we go from here?”
7
He said it pretty peevish, and I had no answer yet, as I’d been so busy driving, making him transfer the money, and switching cars in the alley to figure on it at all. Now I tried to, still driving around, at lease as well as I could, but he was no great help, talking along some more in his peevish, faultfinding way: “We can’t go to a motel because look what happened last night — we had hardly got in the door before they commenced suspicioning us, and with this heavy bag in my hand they might want to know what’s in it. So what are we going to say? Suppose they tell us open it up; what are we going to do? OK, so they don’t tell us open it up, but that leaves us worse off than before. They give us a room but those places all have maids, and the one on our floor, she wouldn’t be human if she didn’t wonder about this bag. And when we go out to eat, you think she’s got too many principles to open it up and peep? It’s unlocked and we can’t lock it, as we don’t have any key. Maybe those guys had one, but they’re unfortunately dead now and it doesn’t do us any good. We wouldn’t dare go out, to get something to eat or do anything else! Go out, hell! We dare not go to a motel or anywhere! And we dare not stay in this car — it’s hot, as we know, they told us. And sooner or later, at some bridge or tunnel or light, a cop will hold up his hand, look in his little book, find our number, and that’ll be that. In Maryland murder’s murder — it’s not whether you used the gun. Being in it is enough.”
“Well, at lease, you didn’t want to be.”
“You know why I wanted out?”
“They meant to plug you, you said.”
“Yeah, that was nice, wasn’t it? First they’re going to plug you, then they get shot so they can’t. Then the guard starts shooting at you, and then he gets plugged so he can’t. Now it’s the gas chamber, that’s all.”
“Rick, you want out or not?”
“Mandy, what next? What are we going to do?”
He was losing his nerve fast, if he hadn’t already lost it, and maybe I felt funny too, but one thing I knew, I was not going to chicken now, run off as he seemed to want, leaving the money here in the car. So I kept driving around trying to think and pretty soon saw a shopping plaza, a big place off to our right, with all kinds of stores in it. I said, “OK, Rick, how’s this? So the bag is unlocked, and we dare not go to a motel for fear of that nosy maid who’ll open it up and see the money. So how about going in here? Putting the car in their park, going in one of the stores, using some of the money, and buying a new bag to hold it, a suitcase with a lock and a key that we have, then bringing the bag to the car, putting the money in it, locking it up and taking the key, then leaving the car and taking the bag in a taxi to the bus terminal, where we check it to leave it? We keep the key and the check, and that’s that for as long as we want. We’re rid of it, so we get time to think. Then, to do our thinking in, we go to a motel like before, except I say we go to a hotel.”
“Why a hotel?”
“Motel’s for people with cars, and we’ll be using a cab. And besides, in a hotel they treat you better. They got bellboys that carry your bag.”
“That new bag will be just as heavy from the money we’ll be putting in it. Suppose the guy in the bus terminal wants to know why?”
“In the bus terminal do they care?”
“Well? I was just asking.”
“They handle hundreds of bags every day, and to them one bag looks like another. All they want is your money.”
“Well, OK, I was just asking!”
But he didn’t sound quite so peevish, and I asked, “Then is that what we’re going to do? Are we set?”
“Then, yeah.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“And cut out the talking, you mean?”
“That’s it, Rick, Now you’ve said it.”
“There’s one other thing then.”
“Which is? Let’s get everything out!”
“We could buy ourselves a couple of bags. Suitcases, I’m talking about. If I had one, I could buy some stuff like shirts, so I wouldn’t smell so bad. I’d have something to carry them in. And your bag’s not so hot — a new one and you could leave it right here in the car. Then with new bags and stuff, even a nice hotel wouldn’t ask us to pay in advance.”
“You mean you’re with it?”
“Well, we might as well go in style.”
“Then we’re set.”
So that’s what we did, though he still didn’t sound like he had too much of a yen, and wound up a couple hours later in a big hotel downtown, which I don’t name as I mix hotels up and might get the wrong one. Anyway, it was as nice as they come, and our room was something to see, with light-green carpet real thick, fine, comfortable furniture, and a bathroom to dream about. From our shopping tour of the plaza, we each had our own small suitcase that I’d repacked my own things into and that he packed his things into, that he bought in the men’s store and I paid for out of the money I had, that I’d picked up from the floor of the car, the first one, before we switched to the blue. But he still wasn’t showing much interest, in me or anything, and while I was putting the things away, mine at first and then his, in my bureau drawer and his, he lay down on the bed. When I asked what was the trouble, he said, “Same old thing, Mandy. Thing like that, you don’t get over it quick — I mean knowing I had to die. Knowing I was helping them get rich and that then they meant to kill me.”