"Westlake, Donald E as Stark, Richard - Parker 12 - The Sour Lemon Score 1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Westlake Donald E)

Andrews said, "Turn it down a little, George."

"Sure." Uhl turned it down, but then the announcer came on, gave the name of the record that had just played and then said, "This just in. The Laurel Avenue branch of the Merchants and Farmers Trust was robbed this morning of nearly thirty-three thousand dollars. In a daring daylight holdup, four men-- "

"Thirty-three thousand?" Weiss looked tragic.

"Hush," Uhl said, and turned the radio up again.

The announcer had more to say, mostly in a daring-daylight holdup vein, all the journalistic clichщs pouring out, even finishing with the authorities confident of early arrests.

"They'd better arrest each other," Uhl said, grinning, and as another record started he turned the radio down again.

Weiss was gazing at the strongbox as though it had betrayed him. "Thirty-three thousand," he said. "A crummy eight grand each."

"We knew it could be low," Andrews said. "We knew it could be in the forty-thousand-dollar range."

"Range? You call that a range? It could've been in the sixty-thousand-dollar range, too! Fifteen thousand a man!"

"Eight thousand isn't bad," Andrews said. "Not for one morning's work."

This time Weiss wasn't going to let him forget the time spent in preparation. "What one morning's work? Three week's work, dammit, and a huge risk, a goddam huge risk, and for what? Eight thousand stinking dollars."

"I'll take your share, you don't want it," Uhl said.

"You shut up, George," Weiss said.

Andrews said, "Let's open it up. Who knows, maybe they counted wrong."

"They didn't count wrong," Weiss said, "and you know it. But go ahead, open it up. We might as well look at the damn stuff."

Parker opened the box with a hammer and screwdriver, and it took a while. In the meantime Uhl got cans of beer out of their portable refrigerator and opened them for everybody. Then they all sat around in the chairs and watched Parker pound the locks.

When at last the box was opened it was only half full, lined with neatly wrapped stacks of bills. Parker stuck a hand in among them, messing up the stacks and said, "The singles and fives are all new. We'll have to leave them."

Weiss said, "You got more good news? It wouldn't be Confederate money, would it?"

"It won't add up to much," Parker told him.

"You know what kind of day this is?" Weiss said. "I'll tell you what kind of day this is. The kind of day this is, we'll come down off this hill a couple days from now, the government will have devalued the dollar. How much is singles and fives?"

"Maybe a thousand," Parker said.

"Another two hundred fifty dollars bye-bye," Weiss said, and Uhl shot him in the head.



Four


Parker dove through the window elbows first, the rotted wood and shards of glass spraying out in front of him. He ducked his head, landed hard on his right shoulder, rolled over twice, and was running before he was well on his feet. He heard shots behind him but didn't know if they were coming at him or not. He ran for the corner of the barn, and as he went around it a bullet chunked into the wood beside his head, spitting splinters at his cheek.