“I see,” Procane said, but I could tell from his tone that he didn’t. “I’m sure you understand why I prefer not to tell you the details of our plans.”
“Probably because I could sell them for a lot of money.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t do that.”
“But there’s no sense in taking the chance.”
He smiled. “No, there isn’t, is there?”
I smiled back. We were all friends again. “Just tell me where you want me to be tomorrow and when.”
He thought about that a moment. “Here, I think. Around noon?”
“Fine. Anything else?”
He looked at Janet Whistler. She shook her head. So did Wiedstein. Procane rose and held out his hand. “I’m delighted that you’ll be with us, Mr. St. Ives. I really am.” I accepted his hand and it still felt as though it belonged to a high school principal, but one who had a tough district.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
“Mr. Wiedstein will drive you home. He’s going that way.”
“All right.”
I said good-bye to Janet Whistler and Procane and followed Wiedstein from the room. We went out the front door and turned right on Seventy-fourth. “I’m parked around the corner,” Wiedstein said. Around the corner we stopped at a dusty, two-year-old Chevrolet sedan. Wiedstein unlocked the curb-side door for me.
“I thought you’d have something fancier,” I said.
“I don’t need it,” he said and I decided that his remark could be taken on several levels.
He drove well, making the lights work for him, and we were at Fifty-seventh and Park before he said anything else. Then he said, “I think you’re nuts.”
“For saying yes?”
“For even listening to him.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s a good chance you’ll get mixed up in a shoot-out where somebody’ll get killed. That means you’ll be mixed up in murder.”
“Does Procane’s plan call for that?”
“No. He’s never used a gun. Not to shoot anyone with. Not that I know of anyway.”
“Why should he this time?”
“Because he may not have any choice.”
“He must have taken that into consideration.”
“He takes everything into consideration.”
“You sound as though you’re trying to talk me out of it.”
Wiedstein glanced at me. “No, I’m just trying to convince you that you should be prepared for anything.” He paused for a moment. “Anything,” he said again.
“What about the people who’re supposed to steal the million dollars and then blame it on Procane? What’re they going to be doing all this time?”
“Doing what Procane’s plan predicts they’ll do.”
“And what’s that?”
“That’s part of the plan.”
“And you can’t tell me that.”
“No, I can’t tell you that.”
“Maybe you can tell me this. Does he use a computer to help him come up with his plans?”
“It’s a lot like a computer, only it’s better.”
“What is it?”
“His brain.”
We drove in silence for a while and then I asked, “What’re you going to do with your share, retire at twenty-four?”
“Twenty-six.”
“Well?”
“You don’t retire on a couple of hundred thousand.”
“You could try.”
“I won’t.”
“You like your work, huh?”
“It’s all I know.”
“Where’d he find you?”
“Procane?”
“Yes.”
“In a gutter.” He looked at me and grinned sardonically. “Don’t let the rough finish fool you, St. Ives. At nineteen I was graduating from Stanford. At twenty-one I was commanding an infantry company in Vietnam. At twenty-three I was in the gutter.”
“It sounds like a lively tale.”
Wiedstein shook his head. “Not really.”
“What was it, drugs?”
“They don’t do anything for me.”
“A woman could have done it.”
“Nothing so romantic. It was booze.”
“You don’t have the earmarks.”
“You mean because I’m a Jew.”
“That didn’t cross my mind. Your age did.”
“Jews aren’t supposed to be drunks. They’re supposed to have all this warm family support that keeps them from falling into the bottle.”
“I’ve heard that theory.”
“But you don’t believe it?”
“I believe it’s a theory that’s used to explain why not too many Jews are alcoholics. But I’ve known some who were. Or are.”
“Now you know another one.”
“How bad is it?”
“Well, I’ve always been precocious. I made the whole thirty-year trip in less than three years. Blackouts. Convulsions. The whole thing.”
“Where were you?”
“San Francisco and here. Procane found me in a gutter in the Village. He took me home with him.”
I shook my head. Wiedstein glanced at me. “Sounds a little rich, right?”
“It doesn’t sound like the way I think Procane should sound.”
“He was looking for me. Or somebody like me. He got the idea from his analyst.”
“Someday I’ll have to meet that one.”
“His analyst told him a bright, reformed drunk would make a hell of a thief. Procane’s only problem was to find one young enough. He went looking and found me.”
“But you weren’t reformed.”
“I was ripe though. Or thought I was. I lived at Procane’s place for six months. He started teaching me what he knew. I wasn’t too keen about it at first, but what the hell, I was broke and it was free room and board and a little pocket money. I kept sober for three months.”
“Then what?”
“Then I got drunk.”
“What happened?”
Wiedstein pulled up in front of the Adelphi and put the car in park. “Procane gave me one more chance. He made it clear that that’s all it was. No lectures. Nothing. Then we pulled a job together and that was it. I was cured. That doesn’t mean I can drink, but the compulsion’s gone.”
I must have looked dubious because Wiedstein gave me another sardonic grin. “Still sounds a little rich?”
I nodded. “A little.”
“It’s not really. It’s just that I found out something about myself.”
“What?”
“That I can substitute one compulsion for another,” he said. “Now I’d rather steal than drink.”
14
Myron Greene wouldn’t even comment on the half-million dollars that was to be anonymously contributed to the Harlem drug abuse clinic, or whatever it was, until he checked with Procane to see whether it was really any of my business.
When he called back he said, “Well, it’s just as Mr. Procane told you. He intends to contribute the money sometime next month and he’s asked me to handle it. It’s really no great problem although the tax aspect has some interesting angles.”
“You mean it’s deductible?”
“It’s a little more complicated than that. It depends on how we decide to raise the money. There are capital gains to be considered and quite a few other technicalities that I won’t bore you with.”
“You’re not boring me,” I said.
“I fail to understand your interest, Philip.”
“I’m just curious about whether you can make any money by giving away a half-million dollars.”
“You can’t make any money, but you can save a great deal on your current and future federal income tax.”
“Give me a for instance.”
“Well, Mr. Procane’s income is such that it falls within what is called the fifty percent contribution base. In other words, he can contribute fifty percent of his income each year and claim it as a tax deduction.”
“I aspire to that base.”