Get Real by Donald E. Westlake Read Free Book Online

of ownership.
    “Campa—” Kelp pointed at the glass. “And what’s the yellow thing?”
    “Lemon peel.”
    “Uh-huh. If you don’t mind, how come?”
    “Somebody had it in a movie, and it sounded nice. So I thought I’d try it.”
    “And is it nice?”
    “Yeah.” The kid shrugged. “Makes a change from beer.”
    Everybody agreed with that, and then Kelp said, “John’s gonna tell the newcomers the story here.”
    Stan said, “I picked up the kid at his place, and filled him in on the way over.”
    “Oh,” Kelp said.
    Looking around, Tiny said, “Does this mean I’m the last to know? I don’t like that much.”
    Hastily, Stan told him, “What it is, Tiny, yesterday my Mom picked up a fare at Kennedy, he’s a reality television producer,
     turns out, he wants to film us pulling a heist, for twenty G a man plus per diem.”
    Tiny nodded, but not as though he agreed with anything. He said, “And the get out of jail free card?”
    Dortmunder said, “The guy says we’ll work around that.”
    “Twenty years at hard labor,” Tiny commented. “That’s a lot to work around.”
    Dortmunder said, “Andy and I had a discussion with the guy this afternoon, at his apartment.”
    Stan said, “Oh? Where’s that?”
    “One of those Trump buildings on the west side.”
    “And how is it?”
    Dortmunder shrugged. “Okay.”
    “A little too bronze,” Kelp said.
    Tiny said, “Over here, I’m still working around this.”
    “Okay,” Dortmunder said. “Andy did some computer trick—”
    “It’s no trick,” Kelp said. “I Googled.”
    “Oh, sure,” Stan said.
    “Whatever,” Dortmunder said. “Turns out, this guy’s little company is owned by a bigger company, owned by a bigger company,
     and like that. Like those cartoons where every fish is getting eat by the bigger fish behind him.”
    Tiny said, “So? What does this have to do with you and me?”
    “We asked him,” Dortmunder said, “did he have something in particular he wanted us to boost, and he said no, dealer’s choice,
     he just wants to make the movie.”
    “The evidence.”
    “Yeah, that. So Andy had a suggestion for him.”
    “I’m ready to hear it,” Tiny said.
    Kelp said, “Why not boost something from one of those companies up there on top of him? That way, if law suddenly shows up,
     we were just foolin, never gonna do it for real.”
    “That’s not bad,” Tiny admitted.
    “In fact,” Stan said, “that’s good. An escape hatch.”
    “So then,” Kelp said, “he asked what kind of thing we’d like to lift, and we said cash, and he said there’s no cash anywhere
     in all these big corporations. And all of a sudden—”
    “Yeah,” Dortmunder said.
    Kelp nodded. “We both saw it. All of a sudden, he remembered something. But then he clammed up, pretended like nothing happened.”
    Stan said, “Why that son of a bitch.”
    “Somewhere,” Dortmunder said, “somewhere in his working hours, Doug Fairkeep has seen cash.”
    Tiny said, “Where?”
    “That’s what we gotta figure out.”
    Kelp pulled some sheets of paper from his pocket. “I printed out the companies and what they do,” he said. “Three copies.
     Tiny, here’s yours, Stan, you can share with the kid, and I’ll share with John.”
    The room became quiet, as though it were study period. Everybody bent over the lists, looking for cash, failing to find it.
     Finally Tiny pushed his list away and said, “There’s no cash there. Real estate, movies, aircraft engines. Forget cash.”
    “It hit him,” Dortmunder insisted. “We both noticed.”
    The kid said, “What was it, like he just remembered?”
    “Yeah, like that.”
    The kid nodded. “So it’s not cash he’s around all the time,” he said. “It’s just some cash he happened to see a couple times.
     Or once.”
    Tiny said, “That still doesn’t help.”
    “Well, wait a minute,” the kid said. “What were you all talking about when he suddenly remembered the