Элмор Леонард – Out of Sight / Вне поля зрения (страница 7)
“He blew the whistle on all the snitches[125] he was doing business with and got ’em brought up[126]. I can’t think of the guy’s name.”
Glenn waited.
And Foley said, “Ripley. Richard Ripley. Called Dick the Ripper[127] on account of how he ripped off the stock market. Big good-looking guy.”
“He was vain, though. What he talked about most of the time, was himself, and I listened. I was all ears.[128] See, my bunk was right above his. I was polite, I played kiss-ass to a degree, I’d stand in the phone line for him; we’re out gardening I’d do the stoop work[129]…
All this time he’s talking about what a high roller[130] he is and I’m taking it all in. I learn he’s got money in foreign banks, plus, around five mil in hard cash, plus, loose diamonds and gold coins. The man actually told me, five mil in cash. Nothing to it.”[131]
Foley said, “He keeps it at home?”
Buddy said, “Yeah, where’s the guy live?”
Glenn hesitated and Foley said, “He must’ve been getting out soon.”
“He’s out now. It was in the paper.”
“But you didn’t make it,” Foley said, “you and Snoopy.”
“Maurice happens to live in Detroit, the same place Ripley has his home. And he knows the Motor City.”
“So does Buddy,” Foley said, “if a guide’s all you need.”
Neither one of them showing much interest, that time in the yard at Lompoc USP[132], five years ago.
Glenn got his release and moved to Florida, second only to California in the number of cars stolen.
He tried to keep in touch with the bank robbers, still at Lompoc, wrote to them a few times but never heard back, not a word. So when Buddy called a few weeks ago it came as a total surprise.
Buddy saying it was a small world: he’d just arrived in Florida and Foley was here, at GCI[133] the past five months. The way Buddy put it, “He don’t like it there and sees a way to bust out. If you aren’t doing anything, you want to drive one of the cars? Take a few hours of your time is all.”
Glenn said, well, he’d been up to Detroit on a deal, but at the moment was free. He said, “Yeah, I think I can make it.”
You had to be as cool as these guys.
“How about if I go see Foley?” Glenn said. “You talk to him, see if he remembers Dick the Ripper. I’d still like you guys to go in with me. You think you might be interested?”
Buddy didn’t comment right out and say if they would or not.
Glenn had seen him three times since that phone call. At a bar in West Palm near Glenn’s apartment. A hotel in Miami Beach where Foley’s ex-wife lived. Adele. About forty but not bad looking. And the third time when Buddy drove him out to Glades Correctional, showed the route he’d take once he had Foley in the car, and where Glenn would be waiting with the second car.
Right here with the Audi parked off to the side of the turnpike, trouble lights blinking, a note stuck in the side window that said GONE TO GET GAS[134], Glenn waiting now among pines and palmettos a good fifty feet from the car. If any approaching headlights turned out to be a trooper, Glenn would be out of there, through the trees and down the grade[135] – about where they should be coming up now, with the girl Foley must’ve used as a hostage. But what good was she doing him now? He should’ve left her in the trunk of the car.
A few more minutes passed before he heard them coming.
Chapter Seven
Karen told Foley, climbing the bank in the dark, it would be a lot easier if he let go of her arm. He said he was only trying to help, so she wouldn’t slip in the weeds and fall.
Karen hoped she’d be able to tell her dad about it later. The conversation in a trunk with a bank robber – escaped convict – who wondered if it would be different if they’d met in a bar.
Like a first date, getting to know one another. Her dad would love it.
Foley stayed behind her now looking at her slim figure, her legs at eye level in the short skirt, tight against her rear end as she climbed the grade. Buddy was up ahead. Foley said, “Have your clothes cleaned and send me the bill,” wanting to say something to her, keep it light, but he felt awkward with her now, tense.
She said, “I’ll send it to you at Glades.”
Still not acting scared.
They reached the top of the grade and now he could see the car, amber lights blinking. He didn’t see Glenn until he heard him.
“Jesus, what’d you crawl through, a sewer?”
Standing at the edge of the trees with Buddy saying to him then, “That’s a white car?”
“What’s the difference? It’s the only one here.”
Glenn had on sunglasses and a raincoat that hung long on him, open, over a T-shirt and jeans cut off at the knees.
Foley said, “Take your sunglasses off,” his tone mild, Karen Sisco standing only a few feet away.
“I see better with them on,” Glenn said.
“I’d take ’em off,” Foley said, “before they get stepped on.”
He was aware of Karen turning to look at him, but kept his eyes on Glenn, who gave a shrug, took the glasses off and stuck them in his jeans.
“Wait in the car,” Foley said.
Glenn didn’t move. He said, “You’re out in civilization now, man, ease up[136].”
“I’d like you to go wait in the car,” Foley said.
“How’s that?”
“Take her with you and put her in back.”
Glenn said, “In the trunk?”
“The backseat.”
“What do you need her for?”
Foley stared at him, waiting.
Glenn said, “But I’m hanging my ass out for you, man. I’m here, but I don’t fucking have to be here[137].”
Buddy said, “Be cool, Studs. Are you cool? Go on, stop talking so much.”
“Studs,” Glenn said.”Now we’re old pals again, back in the yard at Lompoc.” He motioned to Karen saying, “Come on, have to do what I’m told.”
She walked past Foley without looking at him and he said, “Wait a minute,” to Glenn.
“Let me have your raincoat,” he said. “Somebody forgot to bring me clean clothes,” looking at Buddy with a straight face. He didn’t get it. He said, “I brought ’em, they’re back at Glades in the Cadillac. You wanted to take her car…”
Foley watched Karen walk over to Glenn as he was slipping the raincoat off.
Glenn saying, “Here you are, sir,” folding the raincoat once and then rolling it up. He threw the coat to land in the weeds at Foley’s feet.
Glenn got his sunglasses out of his jeans then, put them on and took Karen by the arm toward the car.
Foley watching them.
Close to him Buddy said, “What’s wrong with you?”
Foley didn’t answer, watching Glenn and Karen standing by the car now. Now Karen looked over, ducked her head and got in the backseat.
She watched Glenn walk around the front of the car to the other side, open the door and slide in behind the wheel.
“Like I said, I walked away from a prison myself one time, out in California, so I know what it can do to your nerves, being a wanted fugitive[138]. But if he thinks he can talk to me like that… Shit, I’ve been here over a half hour watching headlights coming this way, hoping to Christ they don’t stop and it’s the Florida Highway Patrol, if you think that’s fun.” He turned his head enough to look at her, at the same time running his fingers through his hair.
“You must be scared, get in a situation like this. You heard me ask him what he’s gonna do with you? He wouldn’t say. You know why? He doesn’t know himself. He can’t think straight. Is he gonna let you go or shoot you? It’s too bad, but I guess you were in the wrong fucking place at the wrong time…” He turned to stare out the window again.
Karen leaned forward to have a look. She saw them against the dark bushes, one holding her shotgun, the other, Foley was unbuttoning his shirt. They seemed to be talking.
“What I mean is you can be the man inside[139],” Glenn said, still watching them, Karen sitting back now, “but out in the world, if you don’t know where you’re going, man, you’re fucked.
You know what he’s doing? Taking off that filthy uniform. He’s gonna put my raincoat on and ruin it. I bought it at a flea market out in West Broward, ten bucks. It’s old but, shit, it’s a genuine mackintosh. Now I’ll have to have it cleaned.”