The Burglar on the Prowl - By Lawrence Block Page 0,86
one, at least ten times the size of Carolyn’s, but it was easy for Ms. Chang to carry because it was empty. I never keep anything in it for any length of time, because it’s only safe from other thieves, not from the cops or the IRS, who can get a court order to open it with no trouble at all. The only reason they’ve never opened my box is that they don’t know about it, but sooner or later they’ll find out, and I want it to be empty when that happens. So I only use it as a temporary cache, where I can stow something while I figure out a better place for it. If I’d had my hidey-hole it would have gone there, but for now it could sit in the vault.
Ms. Chang led me to the little room where I locked myself in and transferred an even $125,000 to it from the Ultrasuede attaché case I was carrying. My full share had come to just under $135,000, but I’d already spent some of that, and the rest of it was in Carolyn’s tub, hiding out under the Kitty Litter.
That left Marty’s share, which was still in the attaché case when I left the bank. It came to just over $35,000, enough to justify another cab down to the bookstore. I opened up, but didn’t bother with the bargain table, as it was getting on for eleven by then and I’d only be dragging it inside in another hour. Carolyn had already fed Raffles, though that didn’t stop him from rubbing against my ankles, trying to hustle me out of an extra can of Nine Lives. It works more often than not, but this time I didn’t fall for it.
I opened the attaché case and got out the material Carolyn had downloaded from a few different Internet sites and printed out for me. I’d scanned it earlier, but I gave the several sheets of paper a closer reading this time around, while the world of readers and book collectors failed to beat a path to my door. I was going through the material a second time when the bell above the door announced a customer.
“Welcome,” I said, without looking up. “Have a look around, and let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”
“Not much chance of that, Bernie. Far as I can see, there’s nothin’ here but books. Whatcha lookin’ at?”
“Nothing interesting, Ray. Just printed matter, like a book but without the binding.” I folded what I was reading and moved it out of harm’s way. He tried to get a look at it without being too obvious about it, failing in both respects, but did notice my attaché case on the floor behind the counter.
“Nice briefcase,” he said. “I think I seen it before.”
“Well, it’s possible. I’ve had it for years.”
“Got any bunnies in there, Bernie?”
“Bunnies? In an attaché case?”
“Like I said, I seen it before, an’ more’n once you’ve been known to yank a rabbit out of it. If you’re gonna do it again, I want to be around when it happens.”
“It seems unlikely,” I said, “but if any rabbits are yanked, you’ll have a front row seat.”
“Back row’s better, Bernie. So’s I can block the doors.” He leaned in, dropped his voice. There were no customers in the store, but maybe he didn’t want Raffles listening in. “I ran the prints on that shaver. You can have it back, but I’d get a new one if I was you. The case is cracked an’ it don’t work.”
“I know. Did you get an ID on the prints? That was fast.”
“Computers,” he said. “They speed up everything, even the response time from Washington. Course it’s even faster when you don’t have to go to Washington, which is the case if the prints match up with somebody local that we already got a sheet on.”
“I thought they might.”
“There were some partials, probably a woman’s from the size of ’em. They didn’t ring a bell, an’ I didn’t send ’em to DC on account of I figured the others were what you were interested in. They were the ones on top, an’ they were nice an’ clear, an’ they damn well did ring a bell. The name William Johnson mean anythin’ to you?”
“Not a thing.”
“Yeah, right. You better not play poker, Bernie. The other players’ll know what you got before you do. Well, this Johnson’s the last person to handle the damn thing. Is that