Cop Out Read Free Page A

few minutes ago shot to death. Mr. Howland was alone at the plant, preparing the payroll for tomorrow, when he was apparently surprised by robbers, who killed him and escaped with over twenty-four thousand dollars in cash, according to Curtis Pickney, the general manager, who found the slain bookkeeper’s body. Mr. Pickney was driving by on his way home from a late Zoning Board meeting, saw lights in the plant, and investigated. He notified the New Bradford police and Chief John Secco has taken charge of the case. The Resident State Trooper in New Bradford is also on the scene. A search is being organized for Edward Taylor, the night security guard, who had disappeared. Police fear that Taylor may also have been the victim of foul play. We will bring you further bulletins as they come in. In Washington today the President announced …”
    â€œNo,” Furia said. “Stay put.” He nodded at Hinch, who had turned their way. Hinch was blinking his pink eyes. At Furia’s signal he tossed a bill on the counter and ran out with two truckdrivers who had jumped up and left their hamburgers uneaten.
    â€œI told you, Fure!”
    â€œSay, Miss America, how’s about two more coffees?”
    The waitress took their empty cups. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “That nice old guy.”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThat Tom Howland.”
    â€œThe one they say got shot? You knew him?”
    â€œHe ate in here all the time. Used to bend my ear by the hour. I can’t believe it.”
    â€œYou never know,” Furia said, shaking his head. “Step on those coffees, huh, doll?”
    She went away.
    â€œSome day you’ll learn to listen to me,” Goldie muttered. “I told you to just tie him up. No, you’ve got to go and shoot him.”
    â€œGoddam it, Goldie, you bug the living hell out of me sometimes, you know that?”
    They drank their second cups in silence. There was no music in the diner now. The cook had turned the radio off, too. People were arguing about the robbery and murder. Furia said, “Now,” and rose. Goldie slid from the booth and made her way safely to the door. Furia, carrying the black bag, strolled up to the counter and said to the waitress, “How much for the lousy steak and javas?”
    Goldie slipped out.
    Hinch had the motor running when Furia got in beside him. “Turn on the police band.”
    Hinch turned it on. The air was full of directives and acknowledgments. The state police were setting up roadblocks throughout the area.
    â€œNow what?” Goldie had her arms folded over her breasts. “Big shot?”
    â€œYou want I should shove your teeth down your throat, is that what you want?” Furia said. “I ought to let Hinch work you over.”
    â€œAny time, pal,” Hinch said.
    â€œWho asked you? I got to think.”
    â€œWhat’s to think?” Hinch said. “We hole up in the hideout till the heat goes away, like we said. No sweat. Let’s drag, Fure.”
    â€œIf you had a brain you’d be a dope.” Furia had a roadmap of the area spread on his lap under the maplight. “To get there from here we got to cross this intersection. There’s no other road in. That’ll be one of their main checkpoints. We can’t make it tonight. We got to think of something else.”
    â€œYou’d better get rid of the gun,” Goldie said remotely. She was burrowed as far as she could get into the corner of the rear seat.
    â€œNot till I get me another one.”
    â€œYou going to kill somebody else for one?”
    â€œI told you!”
    â€œWhy didn’t you take the watchman’s gun?”
    â€œBecause it landed in some bushes when we jumped him. We couldn’t hang around looking for it in the dark. I’ll get one, don’t worry.”
    â€œIt’s a wonder you didn’t shoot him, too.”
    â€œYou’re asking for a rap in