The fling with Pete had been fun but now all she had left was an itching sensation in her groin and a fat travel bag. Lucy switched on the radio and the news gave an update on the robbery. The description of one of the dead sounded a lot like Pete. She sighed. He wasn’t one for talk but they’d had a fabulous ride together.
After she got dressed, she fixed a coffee and cracked an egg into it. Sometimes that made the pounding fists in her head go away. As she tried to swig back the awful concoction, her eyes caught sight of Pete’s holdall. She’d thrown it on a chair because the lummox had dropped it on the floor and her trailer didn't benefit from spacious accommodation.
Lucy dragged the bag onto her bed and unzipped it. Nestling on the top of Pete’s clothes was a carton of cigarettes and beneath the smokes was a roll of notes. She took both and counted the greenbacks. Five shy of two hundred dollars. Quite a find. Lucy added up a second time to make sure. Under the clothes: a metal object. She didn't need to pull it out to be certain it was a gun. Pete had left a gun in her trailer. Nice move.
She removed the carton and roll of notes and zipped up the bag. When she felt better, she’d take the contents and scatter them in the trash around the area. Until then, she placed the smokes on the small table near the kitchenette and stuffed the money into a drawer.
The only question left for Lucy was what to do with the cash. She could splash it on a new hairdo and a pretty dress - or take a trip with a girlfriend to Atlantic City or travel even further afield. To help her decisions making, she fried an egg and grilled some toast while in her dressing gown.
Once she’d sat down at the kitchenette table, Lucy’s mind whirred as she thought through all the possibilities Pete’s cash could buy her. It wasn't enough to quit her job at the diner and take her chances on the open road, but she sure was sick and tired of serving donuts and coffee to the middle-aged men who frequented the place. She might make good tips by thrusting her chest out through that tight blouse and bending down, but there had to be more to life than pouring brown liquid into mugs.
At this point in her reverie, a knock erupted on Lucy's trailer door. She opened it and greeted two men: one in uniform and the other in a suit, both holding badges.
“Can I come in, Miss?”
17
MARY LOU WATCHED Frank step off the carriage and she felt alone. Really alone. The bag was in the rack and she didn't feel she should go anywhere in case someone stole it. Their future hung above her head.
The passenger car was composed of row upon row of pairs of seats all facing forwards and Mary Lou sat three rows from the back. Just far enough away from the exit to not catch a draft when the train pulled into stations but not so far that she couldn't run away.
The head-high baggage compartment was nothing more than a shelf with no attempt made to prevent bags from falling. Mary Lou kept her eyes on the black bag. Not because it was in imminent peril but because it might be in danger at some point during the journey.
The last few days had shaken her. She wasn't that kind of person until then. She’d spent years with Frank in the can staying out of trouble. With the bank job going south, her self-possession was ebbing out of her.
Perhaps this was just her way of coping with the sudden change in their lives. Both Frank and Mary Lou’d waited for the day of the robbery for such a long time - months - and she’d hardly given a second's consideration what life would be like after the takedown.
And now she lived that moment for real - and it was nothing how she was expecting. They’d talked about spending three or four weeks together while Uncle Frankie handled the money end of the business and they laid low. In theory, once the dust settled, they were due to hook up with Frankie, get the laundered cash and split up from the crew forever.
Instead, she was stuck on a train running from the Feds and Uncle Frankie without even Frank to offer reassurance. As she looked around, half the seats contained heads but she had no sense of how many passenger cars there were or where potential danger may lie. She needed to go scouting and prepared to get up from her seat. Her one quandary: to keep the bag with her and stand out as unusual or leave it and risk it getting stolen. A middle-aged woman sat on the other side of the aisle.
“Sorry to bother you, but I need to ... freshen up. Would you mind keeping an eye on my luggage up there?”
She pointed at the rack and the harridan nodded.
“Of course, love, don't worry about a thing.”
Mary Lou thanked her and stood up. It was a risk but lugging the bag down the aisles would have made her more visible if she was heading toward trouble.
Four sets of doors further on, she reached the dining car where people were ordering a late breakfast. She carried on and six cars down she hit the end of the line. Just a baggage car in front and nobody was going to be getting past that.
On the way back, Mary Lou paid more attention to the individuals as she passed them. Three guys caught her eye. Two wore hats and one sported a crewcut. All reeked of cop. She noted where they sat but did nothing more than that for the moment. They might have just been cops going to Cincinnati or beyond. Being on the train did not mean they were on the lookout for her.
Back at her seat, she thanked the woman again for watching her bag.
“You got a long journey ahead of you?”
“Ten hours. And you?”
“Much longer: all the way out west.”
“How exciting. Are you visiting friends?”
“Oh no. My husband died last year so I’m seeing his family. We never got on and this’ll be the last time I have to put up with them.”
Mary Lou considered this news. The social awkwardness of hearing about the disquiet in her family gave no wiggle room for further conversation. They both lapsed back into their own little worlds.
THE CREWCUT LINGERED in her head until Mary Lou was no longer able to sit still in her seat. She forced herself to investigate what he was up to. Another excuse to mind her bag and off she went to find him. He had stood up and was talking with the guard: a peaked cap, starched shirt. She carried on walking past to eavesdrop.
“Do you think they’ll catch 'em?”
“Not if I’ve got anything to say about it.”
“And what’ll you do?”
“I aim to catch me some bank robbers.”
“Is that right?”
“Sure is ‘n’ why not? I've got as good a chance as anyone else. The FBI have said them two are heading west. This train’s heading west. Who’s not to say they ain’t even on this train?”
With this statement Mary Lou shuddered. She kept on walking down the aisle and waited for a rest room to become available. When she’d closed the door on the world, she splashed water over her face and leaned on the walls. Why had she and Frank agreed to split up? She was a few feet away from a transit cop who mistook himself for Eliot Ness.
After an indecent time, she left the confines of her sanctuary and walked past the officer to return to her seat.
“Do you have a description?”
“Sure do. They issued one this morning. Man and a woman carrying some heavy duty bags. Let’s face it if they are on this train, it won’t be that difficult to spot them. They are walking around with a million dollars between them.”
The guard whistled at the sound of the size of the haul.
“Tell me,” he leaned in. “If you found them, wouldn't you be tempted to take the money for yourself?”
“I am a fine upstanding member of the police force. Of course, I'd grab the cash for myself.”
They both laughed but only one of them knew if he was joking.
“Have you got any leads?”
“Two Caucasians, one male, one female.”
“That narrows it down.”
“Yeah, but how many couples do you know walking round with a million bucks in their back pockets?”
“Now that is a great point.”
"Say that again, bud.”
The guard chuckled.<
br />
“And how do you know they haven't split up? I mean, you called them a couple but they might just be two gang members, if you get me?”
“Hadn't considered that. You’re right. I should look out for one or both of them.”
“I’ve made your life a whole lot more complicated.”
“Sure have, but I forgive you. If I make the reward, I'll remember you.”
“Don't remember me; share the bounty.”
“Yeah, like that's going to happen. I'm going for a recce.”
Mary Lou scooted back to her seat while the cop headed toward the baggage car to start his search. She stared at the bag above her head and wondered what the hell she should do. There were too many notes to hide them - this was not an option.
If she couldn't hide the cash, perhaps the holdall needed to go. Mary Lou thought hard and fast. Just because one overzealous cop was on the lookout for a woman - or a man - on her own carrying a stash of cash did not mean he would look at her and know she was worth searching.
And if she didn't hide the notes or the bag, should she hide herself? Make a beeline for the washroom and stay there for the rest of the journey? Mary Lou gave this more serious consideration.
But that middle-aged hag across the aisle had spoken with her and might provide a description of her. She was sat there now and Mary Lou got the feeling she was staring at her this minute. There was one car Mary Lou hadn't explored: the one behind her, which she and Frank had skipped when they boarded the train.
She turned round to get a sense of what was there: a buffet car. Somehow she missed the fact there was food behind her as well as ahead. She looked up at her bag and tried to imagine seeing it for the first time. Did it say money or undies to her? Even though her chest was tightening and adrenaline was coursing through her veins. The bag was too dull to raise any suspicions unless she created a reason for the cop to think ill of her.
She did not want to sit here and wait for him to arrest her. Mary Lou stood up - yet again - and walked behind to the buffet car. There were tables and seats along one side and a bar area where people ordered food and drink. At the far end were a series of windows so that passengers to stare out at the passing scenery as it shot past at sixty miles an hour.
Mary Lou headed for a seat near the viewing windows so she’d have plenty of warning when the cop burst through the doors. Then she grabbed a menu and held it in front of her to hide behind when the time was right. This was the best plan available to her. It wasn't the greatest idea but a piece of laminated card would protect her from the might of the local law enforcement.
Ten minutes later, the door opened and the cop walked in, checking everyone’s expressions who made direct eye contact with him. Mary Lou gulped and gripped her menu tighter.
18
MARY LOU RAISED the menu in front of her face as she’d planned to do. This prevented him from taking too close a look but also meant she couldn't see quite where he was in the car.
“Can I get you something, miss?”
She ignored the voice as she was concentrating too much imagining how long he’d take to walk the fifteen steps to reach her.
“Miss?”
“Huh?”
“You want to order something?”
The buffet barman had a point. The place was filling up and Mary Lou was taking up valuable counter space. The guy had left her alone for long enough. An answer was required.
“Coffee and a slice of cake if you have any.”
“We got cake. What you want?”
“Coffee cake?”
“You sure like your coffee?”
Mary Lou had lowered her menu so she could speak with the barman just as the cop sauntered past.
“Huh? Yessir. What girl doesn’t like a nice piece of coffee cake?”
“What indeed, honey.”
The conversation petered out, much to Mary Lou's relief, and the cop carried on until he reached the end of the car and made his way back. He passed her a second time but on this occasion, he stopped right behind her and Mary Lou wished she’d kept a gun in her clutch bag.
He leaned past her so she could smell the acrid stench of his aftershave. His hand brushed her shoulder and he took a menu from the counter.
“Excuse me, ma’am.”
Her throat was too dry to respond and she half-nodded instead. The menu disappeared beyond her peripheral vision and the cop considered his food and drink options. Blasts of stale breath launched onto the back of her neck and Mary Lou knew he was stood there.
“Coffee to go, bud.”
“Sure thing, Simon.”
Mary Lou noted the cop was a regular on the route else the waiter wouldn't have known his name. Ordinary cop on a regular train journey shooting his mouth off to the guard about his chances of a big break. She relaxed knowing he wasn't here as part of some special detail. He was just a uniform with no imagination trying to put food on his family’s table. Deadbeat cop with hopes and dreams and no opportunity to reach them - like every other schnook in the country.
The guy dropped a coffee and cake in front of Mary Lou. Soon after, another coffee landed within an inch of her mug aimed at Simon. He leaned in again and ensured his arm touched hers as he picked up his drink. Mary Lou did her best not to react. He was a cop and the last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself. That said, she didn't need some dirt ball rubbing himself against her: peaked cap and uniform or not.
Mary Lou unclenched her jaw to chow down on the cake and sip her brown drink without turning her head. She had no desire to catch his gaze or engage him in any conversation. Mooks like him needed only the slightest invitation and she was in no position to deal with him in her usual manner: her hot coffee lingering on his crotch as she walked away.
Instead she threw down some coins on the counter and dismounted from her bar stool. Simon gave her enough room to get past him without moving a single muscle of his body. Mary Lou considered elbowing him in the balls but the train came to her rescue as the driver took a bend too fast. All the standing passengers in the buffet car lurched to one side including Mary Lou, who reached out with her fist into Simon’s stomach. His gut took the entire weight of her body as she ensured he received the full brunt of the impact.
“I'm so very sorry, officer. I completely lost my balance.”
“Don’t mention it. The driver needs to stop speeding.”
This wheeze of a response created a warmth of happiness inside her and Mary Lou ricocheted back to her seat as the train steadied itself along the tracks.
As she reached the door, she looked behind and saw Simon the cop heading her way. She kept on walking past her seat and onto where she’d found the washroom before. If he was following her, she needed to know. Besides, she was trapped on this train whatever happened. She felt for the knife she’d stolen in the buffet car and hidden up her sleeve. The blade was far from sharp but it could still do some damage if aimed right.
Inside the washroom, she closed the lid of the toilet and sat down, ear pinned to the door listening out for Simon. Sounded like there was a constant shuffling outside but Mary Lou wasn't so panicked she couldn't tell the difference between the noise of the train, the sound of her blood pumping in her ears and cop footsteps two feet away.
Someone tried the door and Mary Lou bit her lip: the desire to yell out was beyond painful but she said nothing, holding her breath trying to hear what was happening inches from her head. The footsteps got quieter and whoever it was - Simon or some other passenger - moved on to find a different place to freshen up.
Back in her allotted seat, Mary Lou saw a hulk of a man sat next to the middle-aged woman. Mary Lou surveyed him. They were not a couple for sure as the woman was doing her level best to ignore the Neanderthal. After casting her eyes up and down the length of his body, Mary Lou felt a severe pang of fear run down her spine and land in her stomach. The slick black hair cut neatly above the ear lobe, crisp suit and what looked like Army-issue shoes. He had a newspaper
opened but his eyes were looking above and beyond the paper along the car. He was a Fed.
WHERE HAD THE G-Man come from? This stress would be the death of her. Then in a moment of clarity, Mary Lou remembered the train had stopped at least twice since she’d done her first walk up and down the cars so there had been plenty of opportunity for this dude to hop onboard. Didn't make it any better he was here but removed the mystery of his appearance.
She eyed her bag yet again, hoping somehow that she could convince herself it didn’t look like it contained half the proceeds of the robbery at the Lansdowne branch of the First Bank of Baltimore. The black leather appeared sturdy - like it had been purchased from a quality shop. Carter would have been dumb enough to spend good money on bags to rob a bank that he’d throw out at the earliest opportunity.
Only there it was hanging above her head with a Fed camouflaged by the Cincinnati Chronicle only feet away. If the cop was searching for Frank and her then the Fed must be prowling round sniffing them out.
He turned his head toward her and she pretended to stare out the window, all the while straining her peripheral vision to figure out whether he was still looking at her. After twenty seconds, which felt like a lifetime, Mary Lou moved her head and looked at him.
She smiled at him hoping to disarm his gaze. To prove he was a Hoover boy, he didn't respond at all, preferring to grind his eyes at her, boring a hole into her. He was one mean mother.
Simon the cop arrived and tapped the Fed on the shoulder. He grinned and stood up to shake Simon’s hands.
“How goes it in Federal law enforcement?”
“No complaints, Simon. How’s life in the sheriff’s office?”
“Don't be like that. I'm a city cop not some local yokel.”
The Lagotti Family Series Page 33
