they’re going to wonder
why.”
“Let them wonder.”
“Babe,” Doug said, “I live in an apartment in a new high-tech building. My door has a hotel-type card instead of a key.” He
took it from his shirt pocket to show it. “We’ve got doormen, closed-circuit TV. Those guys have taken to dropping by my apartment.”
“They have?”
“They just walk in, don’t ask me how. They don’t raise a sweat, and they don’t leave a mark.”
Babe frowned over this. “What you’re saying is, if we say no to the specific after we already said yes to the general, they’re
going to be curious.”
“And they have a capacity to satisfy their curiosity.”
Babe nodded. “So, do you want to give them the go-ahead?”
“I don’t
know
what I want,” Doug said. “Either we give them the green light and hope for the best, or we find some
reason
to say no, some reason that doesn’t have them wandering around Varick Street just to see what’s what.”
“And you don’t have that reason.”
“No, sir.”
Babe made a face. “There’s that
sir
again. You know, Doug, any reason we give them is going to make them curious. And if they walk off the series, if they’re
out of our lives, there’s no motivation for them to not move
in
to Varick Street and try to find out just what we were keeping to ourselves.”
Doug said, “That’s why I wanted to come directly to you first thing this morning.”
“Thanks,” Babe said, with some ironic emphasis. Brooding across his office, past the tattered and bloodstained and smoke-smeared
mementos of a long life reporting from the edge, he said, “If we say yes, then it’s only Knickerbocker Storage they’d be after?
Only the—what is it—third floor?”
“Well, the first floor, too,” Doug told him. “They’ll need to steal some vehicles to put the stolen goods into.”
“Oh, of course,” Babe said. “Silly of me not to think of that. But if we said yes, could you
keep
them to just those two floors?”
“I think so,” Doug said. “I’m pretty sure I could.”
“Not by telling them, ‘Don’t think of a blue elephant.’”
“No, no, I know better than that. I wouldn’t even mention the second floor.” Doug leaned forward, pretended to consult a clipboard,
and said, “Now, for our camera crews, you’re gonna need footage on the third floor, and footage on the first floor, and footage
out front, coming and going. That’s really all you need.”
“Good,” Babe said.
Putting the imaginary clipboard onto his lap, Doug leaned back and said, “You know, there might be a kind of silver lining
in all this.”
“Shoot it to me at once,” Babe said.
“Inside the company,” Doug said, “there are rumors and questions sometimes, you know that.”
“Of course,” Babe said. “That’s true in any large organization.”
“Some of those rumors have centered on Varick Street.”
“Which is very bad,” Babe said, “We really
don’t
want people wondering about Varick Street. I’ve wished there was a way to get everybody to think about something el se.”
“Well, if we pull off
The Gang’s All Here,
” Doug said, “and stage a robbery in that same building, nobody will believe for a minute there’s anything
else
going on in Varick Street.”
Babe, for the first time in the conversation, smiled. “If we could bring that off,” he said, and shrugged. “Well, we’d
have
to bring it off.”
“Scary,” Doug said.
“Scary we eat for breakfast,” Babe told him. Suddenly decisive, he said, “Green-light it.”
“Thanks, Babe.”
Doug got to his feet, the imaginary clipboard falling to the floor, and Babe said, “Oh, by the way.”
“Yes?”
Babe shook his head. “I don’t like that title.”
19
A W EDNESDAY NIGHT , just one week since the organizational meeting at the OJ, and Dortmunder and Kelp were walking, not for the first time in
their lives, on a roof. It was the roof of the GR Development
why.”
“Let them wonder.”
“Babe,” Doug said, “I live in an apartment in a new high-tech building. My door has a hotel-type card instead of a key.” He
took it from his shirt pocket to show it. “We’ve got doormen, closed-circuit TV. Those guys have taken to dropping by my apartment.”
“They have?”
“They just walk in, don’t ask me how. They don’t raise a sweat, and they don’t leave a mark.”
Babe frowned over this. “What you’re saying is, if we say no to the specific after we already said yes to the general, they’re
going to be curious.”
“And they have a capacity to satisfy their curiosity.”
Babe nodded. “So, do you want to give them the go-ahead?”
“I don’t
know
what I want,” Doug said. “Either we give them the green light and hope for the best, or we find some
reason
to say no, some reason that doesn’t have them wandering around Varick Street just to see what’s what.”
“And you don’t have that reason.”
“No, sir.”
Babe made a face. “There’s that
sir
again. You know, Doug, any reason we give them is going to make them curious. And if they walk off the series, if they’re
out of our lives, there’s no motivation for them to not move
in
to Varick Street and try to find out just what we were keeping to ourselves.”
Doug said, “That’s why I wanted to come directly to you first thing this morning.”
“Thanks,” Babe said, with some ironic emphasis. Brooding across his office, past the tattered and bloodstained and smoke-smeared
mementos of a long life reporting from the edge, he said, “If we say yes, then it’s only Knickerbocker Storage they’d be after?
Only the—what is it—third floor?”
“Well, the first floor, too,” Doug told him. “They’ll need to steal some vehicles to put the stolen goods into.”
“Oh, of course,” Babe said. “Silly of me not to think of that. But if we said yes, could you
keep
them to just those two floors?”
“I think so,” Doug said. “I’m pretty sure I could.”
“Not by telling them, ‘Don’t think of a blue elephant.’”
“No, no, I know better than that. I wouldn’t even mention the second floor.” Doug leaned forward, pretended to consult a clipboard,
and said, “Now, for our camera crews, you’re gonna need footage on the third floor, and footage on the first floor, and footage
out front, coming and going. That’s really all you need.”
“Good,” Babe said.
Putting the imaginary clipboard onto his lap, Doug leaned back and said, “You know, there might be a kind of silver lining
in all this.”
“Shoot it to me at once,” Babe said.
“Inside the company,” Doug said, “there are rumors and questions sometimes, you know that.”
“Of course,” Babe said. “That’s true in any large organization.”
“Some of those rumors have centered on Varick Street.”
“Which is very bad,” Babe said, “We really
don’t
want people wondering about Varick Street. I’ve wished there was a way to get everybody to think about something el se.”
“Well, if we pull off
The Gang’s All Here,
” Doug said, “and stage a robbery in that same building, nobody will believe for a minute there’s anything
else
going on in Varick Street.”
Babe, for the first time in the conversation, smiled. “If we could bring that off,” he said, and shrugged. “Well, we’d
have
to bring it off.”
“Scary,” Doug said.
“Scary we eat for breakfast,” Babe told him. Suddenly decisive, he said, “Green-light it.”
“Thanks, Babe.”
Doug got to his feet, the imaginary clipboard falling to the floor, and Babe said, “Oh, by the way.”
“Yes?”
Babe shook his head. “I don’t like that title.”
19
A W EDNESDAY NIGHT , just one week since the organizational meeting at the OJ, and Dortmunder and Kelp were walking, not for the first time in
their lives, on a roof. It was the roof of the GR Development