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So I’d find somebody who knew somebody, and if I couldn’t get twenty or thirty grand as my end of the transaction, well, I’d be surprised. Of course I could always decide to do it Grabow’s way and pass the bills myself one at a time, but for that occupation you don’t need the guts of a burglar. You have to have the gall of a con man and the patience of a saint, and that’s a hell of a combination.
For that matter, I could have told her Crystal’s jewels still existed somewhere, that Verrill couldn’t have sold them yet and certainly hadn’t stashed them where the police would trip over them. When things cooled down a little I might have a go at turning them up. So there might not be a future in burglary, and God knows there’s no pension plan and no retirement benefits, but if there’s no future there’s a pretty good present with it, and I was coming out with fair compensation for what had been admittedly a pretty rough couple of days.
So I could have had a shot at changing her mind. But if I had to go through all that then she wasn’t worth it, so the hell with her.
There’s plenty of women in this world.
Like that one I talked to on the phone. Narrowback Gallery. What the hell was her name? Denise. Denise Raphaelson. She’d been lots of fun over the phone, and fun was something Jillian was manifestly not. Cute and cuddly is nice, but after you’ve done the dirty deed a few times it’s nice if you can also lie around and have a few laughs.
Of course she could turn out to be a beast. Or the chemistry in person could be far different from what it had been over the phone. But in a day or three I’d go look at some paintings, and if the signs were right I’d introduce myself, and if it worked that would be nice, and if it didn’t that would be okay, too.
Plenty of women in this world.
But where was I going to find another dentist?
About the Author
A Mystery Writers of America Grand Master, LAWRENCE BLOCK is a four-time wi