EIGHTEEN

Little had to come down to southern Oklahoma for business that week. We agreed to meet Wednesday at a little bootleg beer joint on the Red River north of Bonham in Fannin County. “I talked to a couple of boys in Kansas City,” he said. “But the deal is going to have to look pretty sweet to get them involved. I mean, there are jobs everywhere they could do, but…”

“How does about two hundred thousand sound?” I asked, grinning. “That’s a conservative figure.”

“Shitfire!” he said. “In a town that size? I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“The oil boom, Little. Plus Christmas.”

“But how do you know?”

“You’ve heard me mention my friend Ollie Marne? Well, Ollie talks a lot.”

“Hell, Marne ought to know if anybody knows,” he said, and drained his beer.

“That’s right,” I agreed. “Cops know those things. And before I forget, there’s one other change in plans I need to mention.”

“Yeah?”

I told him and he shrugged as though he could care less. “This way will be a lot easier on you,” I said. “And safer. Like this, Robillard stays around to reap the fruits of his labor, so to speak. And you don’t have to…”

He shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal. “That don’t make any difference. I can do it one way or the other. It’s your decision, but don’t modify this thing on my account.”

“I know that without being told, Little,” I said softly. “So do you think these guys will go for it?”

“Hell, I feel pretty sure they will. When do we do it?”

“The same night as the poker game. I can come up with a couple of moves to make it easier. But what’s to stop them from doing it on their own time and cutting us out once they find out where it is? That worries me.”

He looked at me for a moment, his pale blue eyes cold and remote under the brim of his fedora. “They know better than to fool with me that way. There ain’t no profit in that for nobody.”

“Okay. I’ll take your word for it.”

“How does the split go?” he asked.

I shook my head. “You can get whatever you want out for your trouble, but as far as I’m concerned they can have the rest.”

He leaned back in the ratty little booth and laughed like I’d never seen him laugh before.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Did I say something funny?”

He finally got control of himself and pulled out his handkerchief. “That’s going to be a new one on them,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “They’ll be flat bumfuzzled. They’ve never done a job with a man who worked for free.”

I grinned. “Just tell them that steering jobs is a hobby of mine.”

That set him off again. “Boy, you are a sight!” he finally managed. “When this is all over I got to tell Annie that one.”

“And you say these men are good at what they do?” I asked.

“Hell, this one fellow I talked to is maybe the best in the country.”

A few minutes later we parted. “Hobby,” he muttered, still laughing as he climbed into his car.