The Burglar Who Liked to Quote Kipling - By Lawrence Block Page 0,54
one for a souvenir. Turn it over, Bernie. Read the back.”
An elegant inscription, with lots of curlicues and nonfunctional loops and whorls. To my tiny princess / With devotion and esteem / Your loyal servant / Atman Singh.
“That’s his name,” she explained. “Atman Singh.”
“I figured that.”
“Clever of you. The guy you were on the phone with is Atman Singh’s boss, which you also probably figured. The boss’s name is—Well, come to think of it, I don’t know his name, but his title is the Maharajah of Ranchipur. But I suppose you knew that too, huh?”
“No,” I said softly. “I didn’t know that.”
“They’re at the Carlyle, you were right about that. The Maharajah likes to take people with him when he travels. Especially women. I had the feeling I could have joined the party if I played my cards right.”
“I wonder how you’d look with a ruby in your navel.”
“A little too femme, don’t you think? Anyway, Atman Singh likes me just the way I am.”
“So do I.” I put a hand on her shoulder. “You did beautifully, Carolyn. I’m impressed.”
“So am I,” she said, “if I say so myself. But it wasn’t just me alone. I could never have done it without the martini.”
Driving south and east, she said, “It was exciting, doing that number with Atman Singh. At first I was scared and then I didn’t even notice I was scared because I was so completely into it. Do you know what I mean?”
“Of course I know what you mean. I get the same feeling in other people’s houses.”
“Yeah, that was a kick. In Randy’s place. I never realized burglary could be thrilling like that. Now I can see how people might do it primarily for the kick, with the money secondary.”
“When you’re a pro,” I said, “the money’s never secondary.”
“I guess not. She was really jealous, wasn’t she?”
“Randy?”
“Yeah. Hey, when this is all over, maybe you could teach me a few things.”
“Like what?”
“Like opening locks without keys. If you think I could learn.”
“Well, there’s a certain amount a person can learn. I think there’s a knack for lockpick work that you either have or you don’t, but beyond that there are things I could teach you.”
“How about starting a car without a key?”
“Jumping the ignition? That’s a cinch. You could learn that in ten minutes.”
“I don’t drive, though.”
“That does make it a pointless skill to acquire.”
“Yeah, but I’d sort of like to be able to do it. Just for the hell of it. Hey, Bern?”
“What?”
She made a fist, punched me lightly on the upper arm. “I know this is like life and death,” she said, “but I’m having a good time. I just wanted to tell you that.”
By five-fifty we were parked—legally, for a change—about half a block from the Gresham Hotel on West Twenty-third Street. The daylight was fading fast now. Carolyn rolled down her window and snapped a quick picture of a passing stranger. The result wasn’t too bad from an aesthetic standpoint, but the dim light resulted in a loss of detail.
“I was afraid of that,” I told her. “I booked the Maharajah at five and Whelkin at six, and then when I spoke to Demarest, I was going to set up the call for seven. I made it four instead when I remembered we’d need light.”
“There’s flashcubes in the carrying case.”
“They’re a little obvious, don’t you think? Anyway, I’m glad we caught Demarest when it was still light enough out to see him. With Whelkin it may not matter. We may not be able to coax him out of the hotel.”
“You think he’s staying there?”
“It’s certainly possible. I’d have called, but what name would I ask for?”
“You don’t think he’s staying there under his own name?”
“In the first place, no. In the second place, I have no idea what his right name might be. I’m sure it’s not Rudyard Whelkin. That was a cute story, being named for Kipling and growing up to collect him, but I have the feeling I’m the only person he told it to.”
“His name’s not Rudyard Whelkin?”
“No. And he doesn’t collect books.”
“What does he do with them?”
“I think he sells them. I think”—I looked at my watch—“I think he’s sitting in a booth in the lobby of the Gresham,” I went on, “waiting for my call. I think I better call him.”
“And I think I better take his picture.”
“Be subtle about it, huh?”
“That’s my trademark.”
The first phone I tried was out of order. There was another one diagonally across