Let’s Hear It For The Deaf Man

12

The boys were beginning to enjoy themselves.

After all, if there had to be bank robberies (and in their line of work, there most certainly had to be bank robberies), they preferred dealing with a criminal who at least tried to make it all a little more interesting. For where indeed was there any joy in coping with some jerk whose idea of a brilliant holdup was to walk in and stick a gun in a person’s face? The boys had to admit it — the Deaf Man brought a spot of needed cheer to that dingy old squadroom.

“Who do you suppose it is?” Byrnes asked.

Hawes looked at the photostat, which had arrived in Tuesday morning’s mail, and then said, “He looks a lot like Meyer.”

“Except Meyer hasn’t got as much hair.”

“I fail to see the humor,” Meyer said, and then studied the picture more carefully. “Now that you mention it, he does resemble my Uncle Morris in New Jersey.”

“You think he’s an actor?” Hawes asked.

“My Uncle Morris? He’s a haberdasher.”

“I mean this guy.”

“I doubt it,” Byrnes said. “He looks too intelligent.”

“He might be an actor, though,” Meyer said. “Somebody out of Great Expectations.”

“He does look English.”

“Or Bleak House,” Meyer said.

“He looks like an English lawyer,” Hawes said.

“Maybe he’s Charles Dickens himself,” Meyer said.

“Maybe. English lawyers and English writers all look alike.”

“Maybe he’s a famous English murderer.”

“Or a famous English sex fiend.”

“All the English are famous sex fiends.”

“He does look very sexy,” Byrnes said.

“It’s the hair. It’s the way he’s got the hair teased.”

“I like his tie, too.”

“His cravat.”

“Yes, but also his tie.”

“Who the hell is he?” Byrnes asked.

“Who the hell knows?” Meyer said.

The Deaf Man held out the slate and asked, “Do you understand all of it so far?”

“Yes,” Harold said. “I go into the vault with the bank manager...”

“His name is Alton.”

“Right. I clean out the place, and then take him back to the office.”

“Meanwhile,” Roger said, “Danny and me are in the car, right outside the teller’s window.”

“And you, Florence?”

“I’m in my stalled car at the head of the driveway.”

“In the manager’s office,” Harold said, “I clobber him and tie him up.”

“I’m out of the car by then,” Danny said, “busting the window.”

“I run out of the manager’s office, go through the gate, and jump out the broken window.”

“I help him climb through.”

“We both get in the car...”

“I step on the gas,” Roger said.

“I pick you up, Mr. Taubman, at the front of the bank,” Florence said.

“And we’re off and running.”

“Perfect,” the Deaf Man said. “Any questions?”

“Do we come straight back here, or what?”

“No. I’ve already reserved rooms for all of us at the Allister.”

“Why there?”

“Why not?”

“Why not right here at the Remington?”

“This is a flea bag. I chose it for our meetings only because it’s inconspicuous.”

“That’s just my point. The Allister’s right in the middle of everything.”

“Exactly. You, Roger, and Danny are three respectable businessmen checking into one of the biggest hotels in the city. Florence and I are man and wife arriving from Los Angeles. We’ll meet in Roger’s room at three o’clock, and share the money at that time. On Saturday morning, we’ll all check out and go our separate ways.”

“Five hundred thousand bucks,” Harold said, and whistled softly.

“Give or take a few thousand,” the Deaf Man said. “Any other questions?”

“The only part that bothers me is the double cross,” Roger said.

“Let me worry about that,” the Deaf Man said. “All you have to worry about is doing your part. I rather imagine a hundred thousand dollars will ease your conscience considerably.”

“Still...”

“I don’t want second thoughts about this, Roger. If you’re not with us, say so now. We won’t be going through the dry run until Thursday, and I won’t reveal the location of the bank until then. You’re free to go. Just have the decency to do it now, while I can still find a replacement.”

“I guess I’m in,” Roger said.

“No guesswork, Roger. Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Does the duplicity bother anyone else?”

“I only worry about number one,” Danny said.

“I never met a man I could trust,” Florence said, “and I don’t expect nobody to trust me, either.”

“How about you, Harold?”

“I want that hundred thousand dollars,” Harold said simply.

“Then I take it we’re all committed,” the Deaf Man said.

Patrolman Mike Ingersoll came into the squadroom at four o’clock that afternoon. He had been relieved on post fifteen minutes ago, and had already changed into street attire — brown trousers and tan sports shirt, a poplin, zippered jacket. Kling was sitting at his desk with Mrs. Ungerman, showing her mug shots in the hope she might be able to identify the man with whom she had briefly waltzed last Thursday night. He motioned to Ingersoll to come in, and Ingersoll motioned back that if Kling was busy, and Kling motioned back, No, that’s okay — and all the pantomime caused Mrs. Ungerman to turn curiously toward the railing.

“Hello, Mrs. Ungerman,” Ingersoll said, and smiled pleasantly.

Mrs. Ungerman looked at him in puzzlement.

“Patrolman Ingersoll,” he said.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, of course. I didn’t recognize you without the uniform.”

“I’ll just be a minute, Mike,” Kling said.

“Sure, sure, take your time,” Ingersoll said, and wandered over to the bulletin board and studied the Deaf Man’s art gallery. He knew nothing about the case, and thought the photostats were some kind of little joke the detectives were playing up here in the rarefied atmosphere on the second floor of the building. At Kling’s desk Mrs. Ungerman kept looking at photographs of known burglars and shaking her head. At last she rose, and Kling thanked her for her time. She waved at Ingersoll, said, “Nice seeing you,” and went out of the squadroom.

“Any help?” Ingersoll said, coming over to the desk.

“None at all.”

Ingersoll pulled up a chair and sat. “Have you got a minute?” he asked.

“Don’t tell me we’ve had another burglary.”

“No, no,” Ingersoll said, and knocked the desk with his knuckles. “Been very quiet this week, thank God. This is what I want to talk to you about.” Ingersoll paused, and then shifted his weight and leaned closer to Kling, lowering his voice, as if he did not want his words to be overheard even within the sanctified walls of a detective squadroom. “How would you like to set a trap for our heist artist?” he said.

“Stick a man in one of the empty apartments, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought of that, Mike, but I’m not sure it’d work.”

“Why not?”

“If these are inside jobs, the guy’s probably watching all the time, don’t you think? He’ll know we’ve got a stakeout going.”

“Maybe not. Besides, we’re up a dead-end street right now. Anything’s worth a chance.”

“Well, I’ve got a lead, you know. Let’s see what happens there before we go spending the night...”

“What kind of lead, Bert?” Ingersoll said, and took out his notebook. “Anything I should know?”

“The guy dropped a ballpoint pen in the Blair apartment.”

“Pretty girl,” Ingersoll said.

“Yeah,” Kling said, and hoped he sounded noncommittal. “Anyway, I tracked it to an ex-con named Fred Lipton, two previous convictions.”

“For Burglary?”

“No, Dis Cond and Forgery One.”

“He live around here?”

“Calm’s Point.”

“Whereabouts? I live in Calm’s Point, you know.”

“He works for a real estate agency on Ashmead Avenue, and lives in a garden apartment on Ninety-eighth and Aurora.”

“That’s not too far from me,” Ingersoll said. “Anything I can do for you out there?”

“You look too much like a cop,” Kling said, and smiled.

“What do you mean?”

“Lipton’s friendly with a dancer at a joint called the Gee-Gee-Go-Go.”

“Yeah, I know the place, it’s a real dive.”

“Hawes tried to pump the girl the other night, but she made him for a cop right off.”

“Well, he does look kind of like a cop,” Ingersoll said, and nodded. “You sure you don’t want me to take a whack at it?”

“I thought I’d ask Willis.”

“Yeah, he’d be perfect,” Ingersoll said. “But meanwhile, can’t we set something up right here? In case you don’t get anything on Lipton?”

“I really think it’d be a waste of time, Mike.”

“The Ungerman hit was the last one, am I right? That was five days ago, Bert. It’s not like this guy to stay inactive for such a long time.”

“Maybe he’s cooling it because the old lady got a look at him.”

“What’s that got to do with it? He wouldn’t go back to the same apartment twice, would he?”

“No, that’s right.”

“The way I figure it, Bert, he’s trying to knock off as many places as he can while people are still taking winter vacations.”

“I don’t get you, Mike.”

“Look at the M.O., Bert. A dozen places in February and March, and three more in the last... how long has it been? Two weeks?”

“About that, yeah.”

“Okay, this is still April, people are still going away a little. We get into May and June, most of them’ll be staying home. Until the summer months, you know? So he hasn’t got much time before he has to lay off. And he missed on the Ungerman job, don’t forget that. I figure he’s got to be coming out again real soon.”

“So what’s your idea?”

“I’ve been talking to some of the supers in the neighborhood, there are maybe three or four apartments with people away. I figure we can stake out at least two of them every night, more if the Loot’ll let you have additional men. We rotate the apartments, we stay in touch with walkie-talkies, and we take our chances. What do you think?”

“I don’t think the Loot’ll give me any men.”

“How about Captain Frick? You think I should ask him?”

“I wouldn’t, Mike. If you want to try this just the two of us, I’m game. But I can guarantee we won’t get any help. Things are just too goddamn busy around here.”

“Okay, so you want to do it?”

“When?”

“Tonight?”

“Okay, sure.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky. If not, we’ll try again tomorrow night. I don’t go on the four-to-midnight till next week sometime, but even then I’m willing to stick with this till we get the son of a bitch.”

“Well, we do have to sleep every now and then,” Kling said, and smiled.

“We catch this guy, we can all take a rest,” Ingersoll said, and returned the smile. “Look, Bert, I’ll level with you. I’m anxious to grab him because it might help me get the gold tin. Even an assist might do it for me. I’ve been on the force twelve years now, been commended for bravery twice, and I’m still making a lousy eleven thousand a year. It’s time I started helping myself, don’t you think? I’m divorced, you know, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Sure. So I got alimony to pay, and also I’d like to get married again, I’m thinking about getting married again. There’s a nice girl I want to marry. If we can crack this one together, it’d be a big help to me, Bert. I’m talking to you like a brother.”

“I understand what you mean, Mike.”

“You can understand how I feel, can’t you?”

“Sure.”

“So look, let me check out those apartments again, make sure the people didn’t come back all of a sudden. I’ll call in later and let you know where to meet me, okay?”

“Fine.”

“You want to requisition the walkie-talkies, or shall I take care of it?”

“Why do we need walkie-talkies?”

“Well, the guy got careless on his last job. He may be armed this time, who knows? If we run into any kind of trouble, be nice to know we’re in contact with each other.”

“I’ll get the walkie-talkies,” Kling said.

“Good. I’ll call you later.”

“See you,” Kling said, and watched Ingersoll go through the gate in the railing and down the corridor to the iron-runged stairway. He suddenly wondered why Ingersoll had set his promotion sights so low; the guy was already behaving like the goddamn commissioner.

Hal Willis was an experienced cop and a smart one. At the Gee-Gee-Go-Go that night he talked to Rhonda Spear for close to forty minutes, buying her six drinks during the course of their odd discussion. At the end of that time, he had elicited from her exactly nothing.

Willis did not look like a cop, and he was not carrying a gun, having been previously warned that Rhonda was quite adept at detecting the presence of hardware. Yet he was certain she had not given a single straight answer to any of his seemingly innocent questions. He could only assume that Hawes’ abortive attempt to reach her had served as a warning against further conversation with any men who weren’t regulars in the place. If you’re not sure who’s a cop and who isn’t, it’s best to behave as though everyone is. Especially if you’ve got something to hide. That was the one thing Willis came away with: the intuitive feeling that Rhonda Spear had a hell of a lot to hide.

Aside from that, the night was a total loss.

The night, for Kling and Ingersoll, was no more rewarding; it was merely longer. They sat in separate empty apartments three buildings away from each other, and waited for the burglar to strike. The walkie-talkie communication was sketchy at best, but they did manage to maintain contact with each other, and their infrequent conversations at least kept them awake. They did not leave the apartments until seven in the morning — no closer to solving the case than they had been at the start of the stakeout.