Hurricane Heist by Donald Barr Chidsey

Author:Donald Barr Chidsey [Chidsey, Donald Barr]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery;crime;suspense;thriller;detective
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2018-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER III

McGarvey’s face at first was a study in dumfoundment. He looked as though he had been socked on the head with a pipe. Never a quick thinker, he was absolutely flabbergasted.

Then across that face amazement and rage began to sweep, and there were even, for a little while, flashes of disbelief.

By the time McGarvey became really convinced that he was not having a nightmare, Morton had almost completed the job. Not that this took long! Nobody knew better than Morton of Miami that the essence of a good holdup was speed. Snatch the stuff and scram before anybody gets over the first shock of seeing your gun—that’s the way to do it.

The lady cooperated. Morton only had to say, “Put ’em on the table,” and she started to unfasten her pendants, slip off her rings and bangles, and otherwise divest herself of jewels. She didn’t scream. She didn’t blanch. Morton never even had to look at her.

That incurable romantic McGarvey was getting ready to reach for his gun, as Morton saw. He was slower to act than he had been at the previous holdup. Then he had not been so astounded by the appearance of a bandit who was nervous at best and who had no less than five men to cover. Now, his mind yanked back into reality from a dream which had lulled it half to sleep, he faced a gunman whose hand did not shake, whose voice was cold and low, and who with an awful intensity concentrated on him alone. An ordinary cop in these circumstances would get his hands up and keep them there.

But not McGarvey.

Morton could see that young McGarvey’s mind, as soon as it cleared, raced with thoughts of fight. His eyes were measuring distances, his ears weighing the determination in that carefully disguised voice. His heart knew no fear—Morton always said McGarvey was too dumb to be scared of anything—and his strength was, if not as the strength of ten, at least as that of two or three. For all his size, he could be lightning fast. Moreover he wouldn’t topple readily. It would take a large slug striking exactly the right spot to knock him over.

Morton scooped the gauds up in his left hand, started to thrust them into a coat pocket, and then remembered that he was wearing his coat inside out so that McGarvey wouldn’t recognize it. So he just held them as he backed toward the door.

McGarvey was staring over his partner’s shoulder, and McGarvey’s eyes grew very big. Presently he began to grin.

“O.K.,” he said quietly, apparently to somebody in the doorway behind Morton. “He won’t shoot while you’ve got him covered.”

Behind the handkerchief Morton smiled. It was so like young McGarvey to try an outworn trick like that. A great kid, Garv, but somewhat naive. Morton had difficulty keeping the affection out of his voice when he grafted, “Anybody leaves this cabin in the next five minutes gets shot!”

It did no good. He could fairly feel McGarvey’s muscles grow taut.

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