Kuzniki made us turn our backs while he eased open the rest-room door and checked the lobby to make sure it was still empty. Then, holding the door open and covering us with his automatic, he ordered us to move ahead of him.
“Never mind the elevator,” he said. “Make for the stairs. And move fast. If anyone shows before we hit Charlie’s apartment, I start blasting.”
Marvin Johnson waddled toward the stairs at a near trot. I had to take long-legged strides to keep up with him. We met no one on the stairs or in the second-floor hallway. In front of Apartment 211 Kuzniki motioned with his gun for us to stand to one side of the door while he rapped on it. He used a code knock: two quick raps, a pause, a single rap, then three more in rapid order.
The door cracked open about an inch. From where Johnson and I stood, we couldn’t see who was peering out.
Kuzniki said, “Don’t strip your gears, Charlie, but I’ve got two pigeons under the gun out here. Open up fast before anyone comes along.”
The door was pulled wide open. Kuzniki motioned us through it. Charles Kossack had backed halfway across the room and was holding a revolver in his hand. Kuzniki entered last, pushed the door closed, and threw home the bolt.
“The big guy’s a cop,” he said to Kossack. “I recognized him because we were kids together down on the South Side. His name’s Mateuz Rudowski.”
Kossack’s face was pale. He said, “He was in the lobby when I came in.”
From the bedroom doorway the blonde said in a harsh voice, “He was there when I came in, too.”
Kuzniki said, “Don’t get excited. The joint ain’t surrounded. He was just making a routine check, I guess. I just happened to walk up behind him as he was talking to headquarters on the phone, and got the drop on him. He was telling his boss he’d bring you in for questioning. At least I guess it was his boss, because he called him sir.”
Kossack said, “How’d you get on to this so fast, cop?”
“I didn’t,” I said. “Your idiot partner blew it. If he’d turned and walked out before I saw his face, I would never have tumbled. All I wanted you for was routine questioning about Benny Polacek.”
Kossack looked blank. “Benny? I didn’t have no part of that.”
I shrugged. “It hardly matters now. You’ll squat in the gas chamber for this morning’s kill. I suppose you know the guard you shot is dead.”
Kuzniki said in an impatient voice, “Let’s can the chatter and decide what to do. All the plans will have to be changed now, because this place is gonna be too hot for a hideout. When Matt doesn’t show up at headquarters with you, cops will be swarming all over this joint.”
Kossack turned even paler. “What are we going to do?”
“We’re gonna have to think fast.” The burly bandit pointed to a sofa and said, “You two guys sit there and keep quiet.”
Marvin Johnson scurried over to the sofa and collapsed on it. His cheeks were twitching, and his hands shook uncontrollably. I went over and sat next to him.
Casmir Kuzniki began pacing up and down, obviously thinking furiously. About a minute passed before a slow grin began to form on his face.
Coming to a halt, he said to Kossack, “What’s this rap my childhood playmate was picking you up for?”
“A friend of mine got hit.”
Kuzniki raised his eyebrows. “You hit him?”
“Not me. I’m clean on that one.”
“Then you can stand a grill about it?”
Kossack’s eyes narrowed. “Sure. What’re you getting at?”
“I’m trying to rig you an alibi so when the cops start swarming in here, it won’t mean a thing. Rudowski’s the only cop who knows you were in on this morning’s score. Maybe we can keep it that way.”
I didn’t like the sound of this. The only way they could keep it that way was to place me permanently out of communication with headquarters.
Kuzniki turned to me. “Give me your car keys, Matt.”
Reaching into my coat pocket, I pulled them out and tossed them to him. He in turn tossed them to Kossack.
“Where’s your car parked?” he asked.
When I merely cocked a quizzical eyebrow, Kuzniki said matter-of-factly, “I haven’t got time to fool around, Matt. Either tell me or take a slug in the stomach.”
It didn’t seem worth a slug in the stomach. I said, “Out front, about four spaces south. It’s a gray Olds.”
“What division you working out of these days?”
I couldn’t see what harm giving him that information would do. “Vice, Gambling, and Narcotics.”
“What’s the squadroom number?”
I frowned at him. “Two-twenty-four,” I said puzzledly.
He turned back to Kossack. “Drive his car down to headquarters and leave it on the lot. If any cops are wandering around the lot, drive on by and circle the block until you’re sure there won’t be any witnesses when you park. I don’t want anyone to see you alone in the car.”
His slick-haired partner looked as puzzled as I was.
“As I remember from the days when they used to pull me in at Juvenile Division, there’s a door from the lot into the rear of the building,” Kuzniki went on. “It takes you into a basement hall, and there’s a fire stair just inside it. You should be able to make the second floor without anybody seeing you.”
“What the hell for?” Kossack asked in bewilderment.
“Your alibi. Find room two-twenty-four, then walk in and tell the first cop you see that Rudowski told you to wait there.”
“Are you nuts?” Kossack said on a high note.
“He told his boss over the phone that he was bringing you in,” Kuzniki said patiently. “So you show up in the squadroom. Your story is that he drove you to headquarters, the two of you walked together as far as the squadroom door, Rudowski told you to go in and wait while he went off somewhere. He didn’t tell you where. Maybe he went to the Records Division to pull your card.
When he never shows up, you’re going to be asked a lot of questions. But not nearly as many as if you don’t do it my way. Just stick to your story, and let them try to figure out how a cop disappeared in the middle of police headquarters.”
“They’ll never believe me in a million years!” Kossack said, sounding appalled at the whole idea.
“They’ll have to. They won’t think you have the brains or the guts to burn a cop, then walk into headquarters for an alibi. If you get there fast, they’ll figure you wouldn’t have had time to burn him and dispose of the body. It isn’t fifteen minutes since he hung up the phone.”
“But—but—” Kossack stammered.
“But, hell. The alternative is to burn them both and run. Which means a six-state alarm will be out for you in an hour. Because that’s about how long it will take the cops to start checking here to find out why Rudowski never showed up with you. This way they’ll start looking for him at headquarters first. They’ll get here eventually, of course, but they won’t find anything. You stick to your story, and they’ll never be able to pin you down, no matter what they suspect.”
It was a fantastic plan, but it just might work. I began to understand why Cas Kuzniki was such a successful bank robber and how he had managed to stay at large when every one of his former partners was in prison. He could think on his feet and he had all the audacity of a master strategist. As he suggested, cops would probably be checking Kossack’s apartment within an hour if I failed to show at headquarters. And even if the bandits took us somewhere else to kill us, so that there was no evidence of the crime in the apartment, Kossack could hardly return here to brazen it out. They’d all have to run. But the plan he outlined could conceivably throw the police such a curve that they would never be able to figure out exactly what had happened, no matter what they might suspect.
The blonde came in from the bedroom and said to Kossack, “He’s right, honey. I told you he was smart. You can face them down.”
Kossack ran a distracted hand through his oily hair.
Kuzniki said to him, “If you don’t get moving, you may as well forget about it. The whole thing depends on you getting there fast.”
“How about you and Connie?”
“We’ll take care of these two and hole up at her place. When the cops release you, call there from a pay phone.”
“What about the loot?”
“Want your cut now?” Kuzniki inquired. “So the cops can find it when they search the joint?”
“I’ll be with him, honey,” the blonde, Connie, said. “I’ll watch out for your interests.”
“Sure,” I put in. “You’re being set up as a fall guy, Charlie.”
Kossack looked at me.
“There won’t be any answer when you phone Connie. They’ll be halfway across the country with that suitcase full of swag.”
Kossack said, “That isn’t even a good try. Cas has a reputation for playing square, and Connie won’t run out on me.” Sliding his gun beneath his arm, he headed for the door.
“Hey!” Kuzniki said.
Pausing with his hand on the knob, Kossack turned to look at his partner.
“You plan to walk into police headquarters with that heater under your arm?” Kuzniki demanded.
Flushing, Kossack drew out the gun and tossed it at Connie, who expertly plucked it from the air.
“How about the harness, genius?” Kuzniki asked sarcastically.
Kossack’s flush deepened. Slipping off his coat, he removed his shoulder harness and tossed it to the blonde. He put his coat back on, unbolted the door, and let himself out without saying anything.
I said, “It won’t work, Cas. He’s too dumb. He’ll spill his guts the minute the boys turn on the heat. He’ll tell all about you and Connie and where you’re hiding out.”
“Maybe. But we won’t be at Connie’s if the cops look there.”
“Huh?” the blonde said suspiciously.
“Don’t worry. I’m not planning to beat your boy friend out of his cut. But we’re not going to be where he can finger us in case he does break. We’ll contact him when the heat dies.”
“But you said—”
“I wanted him to get started,” Kuzniki interrupted. “I didn’t have time for a long discussion. I don’t have time to argue with you either. Where’d you park the panel truck?”
“Around back.”
“Bring it around front. Then come back up here. I’ll want you to run interference when I take these jokers out, so we don’t meet any witnesses. Get moving.”
She walked into the bedroom. Through the open door I could see the suitcase she had carried in lying on the bed. Opening it, she dropped in the gun and harness and closed it again. For a moment she disappeared from view, then reappeared carrying a handbag from which she took a set of car keys. She paused at the door. “I shouldn’t be more than five minutes,” she announced, and went out, closing the door behind her.