Bank Shot by Donald E. Westlake Read Free Book Online Page B

glass.’
    â€˜Thanks.’
    Dortmunder left the bar and headed for the rear, past the two doors with the dog silhouettes on them and the sign on one door POINTERS and on the other door SETTERS and past the phone booth and through the green door at the back and into a small square room with a concrete floor. None of the walls were visible because practically the whole room was taken up floor to ceiling with beer cases and liquor cases, leaving only a small opening in the middle big enough for a battered old table with a green felt top, half a dozen chairs and one bare bulb with a round tin reflector hanging low over the table on a long black wire.
    Kelp and Victor were seated at the table side by side, as though waiting for a big-stakes poker game to start. A bottle of bourbon and a half-empty glass stood in front of Kelp, and a glass with ice cubes and something sparkly and amber stood in front of Victor.
    Kelp, cheerful and optimistic, said, ‘Hi! Murch isn’t here yet.’
    â€˜So I see.’ Dortmunder sat down in front of the other glass on the table, which was still empty.
    â€˜Hello, Mr. Dortmunder.’
    Dortmunder looked across the table. Victor’s smile made him squint, like too much sunlight. ‘Hello, Victor,’ he said.
    â€˜I’m glad we’ll be working together.’
    Dortmunder’s mouth twitched in what might have been a smile, and he gazed down at his big-knuckled hands on the green felt of the table.
    Kelp pushed the bottle toward him. ‘Have one.’
    The bottle claimed to be Amsterdam Liquor Store Bourbon – ‘Our Own Brand’. Dortmunder splashed some in his glass, sipped, made a face and said, ‘Stan’s late. That isn’t like him.’
    Kelp said, ‘While we wait, why don’t we work out some of the details on this thing?’
    â€˜Just like it was really going to happen,’ Dortmunder said.
    â€˜Of course it’s going to happen,’ Kelp said.
    Victor managed to look worried while still smiling. ‘Don’t you think it’ll happen, Mr. Dortmunder?’
    Kelp said, ‘Of course it’ll happen.’ To Dortmunder he said, ‘What about the string?’
    Victor said, ‘String?’
    â€˜The crew,’ Kelp told him. ‘The group engaged in the operation.’
    â€˜Oh.’
    â€˜We don’t have the job planned out yet,’ Dortmunder said.
    â€˜What plan?’ Kelp asked. ‘We back up a truck, hook on, drive the thing away. Dump the guards at our leisure, take it someplace else, bust into the safe, go on about our business.’
    â€˜I think you skipped over a few spots,’ Dortmunder said.
    â€˜Oh, well,’ Kelp said airily, ‘there’s details to be worked out.’
    â€˜One or two,’ Dortmunder said.
    â€˜But we have the general outline. And what I figure, we here can handle it, plus Stan to do the driving and a good lockman to get into the safe.’
    â€˜We here?’ Dortmunder asked. He gave Kelp a meaningful look, glanced at Victor, looked back at Kelp again.
    Kelp patted the air in a secretive way, hiding it from Victor. ‘We can talk about all that,’ he said. ‘The question now is the lockman. We know we’ll need one.’
    â€˜How about Chefwick? The model-train nut.’
    Kelp shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, ‘he isn’t around any more. He hijacked a subway car to Cuba.’
    Dortmunder looked at him. ‘Don’t start,’ he said.
    â€˜Start what? I didn’t do anything; Chefwick did. He got to run that locomotive that job with us, and he must’ve flipped out or something.’
    â€˜All right,’ Dortmunder said.
    â€˜So he and his wife went to Mexico on vacation, and at Vera Cruz there were these used subway cars that were going on a boat to Cuba, and Chefwick –’
    â€˜I said all right.’
    â€˜Don’t blame me,’ Kelp said.