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"You serious? Listen, these guys, they're gonna be out here any minute looking for me. They're fucking animals, they're vicious. I'm not kidding. I was taking off and that's all I want to do, get as far away from those guys as I can."

"They scare you?"

"They scare the shit out of me, and I'm not afraid to admit it."

"Was Foley with you?"

"When?"

"Last night. About what time was it you hit the dope house?"

"I said I'm not talking to you. I'm not involved in whatever they're doing, the same as I didn't help Foley escape. You said so yourself."

"Yeah, well, I was wrong about that. Where do you suppose Foley is right now?"

"How do I know."

"You're telling me you haven't seen him?"

"What I'm telling you is I have to piss. I mean it, bad."

"What time was it you hit the dope house?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Glenn, tell me what those guys are up to and I'll make you a deal."

"Like what?"

"I'll let you take a leak."

"That's some deal."

"Anywhere you want."

He hesitated.

"You mean it?"

"Anywhere," Karen said.

"Glenn, what time did those guys hit the dope house?"

He hesitated again.

"It was early in the evening. I don't know, about seven."

Karen got a cigarette from her bag and lit it with hotel matches. She took a deep drag and blew the smoke out in a slow stream. At seven, and for at least the next couple of hours, Foley was with her at the hotel.

"Can I go piss? Please?"

The way Karen worked it, she let him urinate against the side of the car, the window down, while he told about Richard Ripley, the Wall Street crook, where they were going to pick him up and take him out to his home in Bloomfield Hills, late tomorrow afternoon. Karen nodded as she listened. She had heard of Ripley and knew he'd served time at Lompoc. She wanted to know exactly where he lived and then asked:

"What about Foley?"

"He's supposed to go with them," Glenn said, his shoulders hunched in the window.

"But I don't know, he didn't show up tonight."

"You know where he's staying?"

"No idea."

"Where do you meet tomorrow?"

"Listen, I'm fucking freezing out here."

"Where're you meeting?"

"They haven't decided." He straightened to look toward the theater, then hunched over to look in the window again.

"You might have something in your car to pop the trunk with. You know, with the jack?"

"You think Foley backed out?"

"I don't know-he doesn't exactly confide in me." Glenn straightened again, hugging himself.

"I'm freezing my ass off."

"You want to get out of here," Karen said, "run, it'll warm you up. But listen, Glenn?"

"What?"

"If you're lying to me…"

"I know, you'll find me. Jesus, I believe it. I keep thinking, if you hadn't driven me to federal court last summer…"

"We wouldn't keep running into each other?"

"You wouldn't even know who I am."

Karen said, "If I didn't know you, Glenn, by tomorrow you'd be in jail or dead. Look at it that way."

People were leaving as Foley and Buddy arrived. They found the table, White Boy and a black guy sitting there. Maurice came down from the stage. He said, "Where you been?" an edge to his tone.

"You miss the big boys, come in time for the walkout fights. Well, shit, you may as well pull up a chair." He said to the black guy,

"Kenneth, this is Mr. Jack Foley and this is Mr. Buddy, famous bank robbers and jailbirds, say they want to help us out."

Foley put his hand on a raincoat draped over the back of a chair at the table.

"Who's sitting here?"

"Your homie, Glenn," Maurice said.

"Only thing, he went to the men's about an hour ago and never came back."

Foley gave Buddy a look.

White Boy, grinning at them, said, "I think he must've fell in."

"I sent these two looking for him," Maurice said.

"They come back shaking their heads."

"Glenn have a car?"

"One he brought from Florida. We all come here in it this evening."

"Well, if he left his coat," Foley said, "and he's been gone an hour..

."

"Hey, I know what you're saying. Glenn didn't want nobody to know he was leaving. Man, I know that. I sent White Boy back out again, see was the car still there, check it out. White Boy had the keys, but knowing Glenn's habits I thought it good to check. You understand? The car's still there and Glenn ain't nowhere to be found."

Foley said, "Everybody's somewhere, Snoop. Where's Glenn staying?"

"My house." Maurice turned his head toward the ring, watched a few moments and yelled, "Reggie, push off and hit, man. Push him off." He turned back to Foley.

"Why don't you and Buddy sit down and have a drink with me. What you want?"

"We're leaving," Foley said.

"The fuck you talking about?"

"Snoop, if you don't know where Glenn is…"

"The man changed his mind, that's all, so he left. Decided he can't take the heat."

"Glenn's pussy," White Boy said.

"He never done shit last night but watch."

Buddy said, "Where was this?"

A waitress came as he said it and asked if they'd like something. Foley shook his head; Buddy did too. The waitress dumped the little tin ashtray in a napkin and left and White Boy said, "You read the paper you'd have seen it."

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