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.Harper walked three blocks before he found a callbox.Once inside he dialled the number.Had almost memorized it.Never felt so scared in all his life.Had never doubted anything so much.The phone rang twice before he felt the urge to hang up.He steeled himself, clenched his fist, felt his knuckles whiten as he gripped the receiver.‘Yes?’ Unmistakably Duchaunak’s voice.‘It’s me.’‘Okay.you spoke with them?’‘Yes.’‘Where?’‘At the hotel.’‘Who came?’‘Freiberg and the girl.’‘And they’re still there?’‘No, they left.’‘And where are you?’Harper peered out through the glass of the callbox, rubbed a hole in the condensation.‘I can see the top of the Western Union Building.there’s a store across the road called—’‘It doesn’t matter.No-one followed you?’‘I don’t think so.’‘You don’t think so?’‘Fuck, I don’t know.I’m doing what you asked me to do, okay? They came and saw me.I spoke with them.You said to call you.you asked me for my help and I’m fucking calling you okay?’‘Okay, okay.I’m sorry, Mr Harper.So tell me what happened?’‘Freiberg is going to meet with Ben Marcus tomorrow.’‘You what?’‘Ben Marcus.you know who Ben Marcus is, right?’‘Yes, sure.Of course I know who Ben Marcus is.’‘Right.so Walt Freiberg is going to see him tomorrow.’‘Christ almighty.they are working together, aren’t they?’‘Seems that way.They’re going to agree to something that was set up by my father.He was retiring.He was negotiating a deal with Ben Marcus before he was shot.Hell, it’s complicated, Detective.Anyway, bottom line is Walt goes and speaks with Marcus tomorrow.He tells him that I’m standing in for my father, that I have the authority to approve whatever deal is going down, and I make everything kosher for the things they’ve planned for Christmas Eve.’There was silence at the other end of the line, and then, ‘Fuck! I knew it! I knew there was something.What is it? What are they planning?’‘They’re going to pull several bank robberies simultaneously.several banks at the same time as far as I can figure.’‘Which ones?’‘I have no idea, not a clue.’‘We need to meet,’ Duchaunak said.‘I need you to come and see my precinct Captain—’‘You must be outta your mind,’ Harper said.‘You want to know what I think? I think someone’s watching me right now.I think someone has an eye on me right now and is going to tell Walt Freiberg that I went out to a callbox and spoke with someone.Who the hell am I going to call, eh? Fucking ghostbusters, right? Maybe they’ll think it’s you.They’re not going to tell me which banks.You want to know what else I think? I figure they might shoot me in the fucking head anyway.If they know I met with you and we went and spoke with your police captain then I can guarantee they’re going to shoot me in the fucking head.’‘So what do you want to do, Mr Harper?’‘I’m going to go do nothing.I’m going to let Walt Freiberg tell Ben Marcus whatever the hell he wants, let them sort out whatever they have planned, and then I’m going to get the fuck out of New York as fast as I can and leave you guys to sort out Christmas Eve.That’s what I’m going to do, Detective.unless, of course, you can think of anything better?’Duchaunak was silent.‘So, Detective.any better ideas?’‘Call me if you get any word after the meeting tomorrow,’ Duchaunak said.‘See if there’s any way, any way at all to get some idea of where they’re going to hit, and then call me after the meeting is over, okay?’‘And what are you going to do?’‘I don’t know, Mr Harper, I don’t know, but I have to do something, right?’‘I think that would be a good idea, Detective.think it would be a very good idea for you to do something.’‘Okay, we’ll speak tomorrow.You call me and let me know what happens.’‘Detective?’‘Yeah?’‘The liquor store.the one where my father was shot.Where is it?’‘Why?’‘I want to know,’ Harper said.‘I just want to know.’‘Up near where you are now.half a dozen blocks or so north.Corner of Hudson and Vestry.’‘Thanks,’ Harper said.‘So call me tomorrow, okay?’‘I’ll do my best.’‘Mr Harper—’ Duchaunak said, but the line was already dead.John Harper stepped out of the callbox and started walking, heading north, hands buried in his pockets, head bowed against the bitter wind that cut east from the river.FIFTY-SIX‘Scariest bunch of motherfuckers.no.no, I take that back,’ Neumann shouted.‘You lot are the ugliest bunch of motherfuckers I’ve ever seen! Jesus Christ, it should be illegal for more than two or three of you to congregate in a public place.You’d be scaring kids and frightening old people into a lifetime of fucking nightmares!’The laughter was riotous, good-humored, anarchic
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