The Green Eagle Score

5

”It’s here!” Devers shouted, and the other two came running.

They hadn’t worried about noise or light this trip; time was the important element now. With the Buick sitting with its high beams on in the middle of the gravel parking-lot behind the Monequois Professional Building the three of them had spread out like competitors in a scavenger hunt, first inside the building itself and then around the area in back.

And now it was Devers who’d found it, after fifteen minutes of searching, stuffed into a large metal garbage bin against the rear wall, with papers strewn over it to keep it from casual eyes.

Webb had been going through the pile of leaves at the far corner of the lot, Parker had been searching the hedge along the rear boundary line of the property. They both trotted over to find Devers grinning in the light from the Buick, an old canvas suitcase sitting on top of the now-closed garbage bin.

Webb said, “Is that it?”

“We’ll see,” Parker said. “Open it.”

“Right,” said Devers.

It wasn’t locked. Devers flipped open the two catches, raised the lid, and they were looking at a jumbled untidy mass of bills.

Parker said, “Good. Put it in the car, switch the lights off, come up to the office.” He turned to Webb. “Come on with me.”

”Right.”

The back door wouldn’t close properly since they’d gone through it the last time. Parker led the way into the building and up the stairs, Webb following him, saying as they started down the hall toward Godden’s office, “What do we want up here?”

“The body.”

“If he’s dead.”

“He’ll be dead,” Parker said.

They’d left the office as they’d found it, light on and door ajar, and when they went in now nothing had changed. Ralph was lying with his face turned so he was staring under the desk. Parker went on one knee beside him, closed his hand against Ralph’s throat.

Webb, leaning over the desk, said, “Alive or dead?”

Parker didn’t answer for a moment. His arm showed strain. Then he took his hand away and said, “Dead. We need something to roll him in, so we don’t trail blood.”

“Rug in the other office.”

“Good. Take his feet.”

They carried the body to the outer office, put it on the small rug in front of the receptionist’s desk. When they rolled the rug, Ralph’s feet protruded from the knees down.

Parker said, “We want the money cases, too.”

They went back to the inner office, got the two money cases, carried them out to the hall. Then Parker went back to the office to look things over. There were stains on the carpet behind the desk, but there was nothing to be done about that. No other signs out of the ordinary, and the stains could only be seen if you went around behind the desk. Parker switched off the light, went to the outer office, and he and Webb carried the body out to the hall. They shut the door so it locked, and Devers arrived saying, “What’s up?”

Webb told him, “We’re transporting a stiff.”

Parker said, “Can you carry those two cases? Don’t make a lot of marks on the walls.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Parker and Webb picked up the body again and carried it out to the car. Devers followed, carrying the cases one at a time, bringing one partway and going back for the other and carrying that farther and going back for the first and so on. Because Parker and Webb moved more slowly, Devers could keep up with them and even run ahead and open the tailgate of the Buick for them.

The back of the Buick was crowded with the suitcase, metal cases and body. Parker and the other two climbed in the front and Webb said, “Where now?”

“Godden’s house.”