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.You should stay home."Kay shuddered."No.It's a big moment for Lee.""He told you to come?""No.He would never do that.""The sensitive type, huh?"Kay dug in her pockets for cigarettes and matches, then lit up."Yes.Like you, but without the chip on the shoulder."I felt myself go red."You're always there for each other? Thick and thin and all that?""We try.""Then why aren't you married? Shacking's against the regs, and if the brass decided to get snotty they could nail Lee for it."Kay blew rings at the floor, then looked up at me."We can't.""Why not? You've been shacked for years.He quit fighting smokers for you.He lets you flirt with other men.Sounds like an ace deal to me."More shouts echoed.Glancing sidelong, I saw Blanchard pounding a new punchy.I countered the shots, duking the stale gym air.After a few seconds I saw what I was doing and stopped.Kay flipped her cigarette in the direction of the ring and said, "I have to go now.Good luck, Dwight."Only the old man called me that."You didn't answer my question."Kay said, "Lee and I don't sleep together," then walked away before I could do anything but stare.o o oI hung around the gym for another hour or so.Toward dusk, reporters and cameramen startedGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlarriving, making straight for center ring, Blanchard and his boring knockdowns of glass-chinned pugs.Kay Lake's exit line stayed with me, along with flashes of her laughing and smiling and turning sad at the drop of a hat.When I heard a newshound yell, "Hey! There's Bleichert!" I exited, running out to the parking lot and my twice-mortgaged Chevy.Pulling away, I realized I had no place to go and nothing I wanted to do except satisfy my curiosity about a woman who was coming on like gangbusters and a big load of grief.So I drove downtown to read her press clippings.The clerk at the _Herald_ morgue, impressed with my badge, led me to a reading table.I told him I was interested in the Boulevard-Citizens bank robbery and the trial of the captured robber, and that I thought the date was sometime early in '39 for the heist, maybe fall of the same year for the legal proceedings.He left me sitting there and returned ten minutes later with two large, leather-bound scrapbooks.Newspaper pages were glued to heavy black cardboard sheets, arranged chronologically, and I flipped from February 1 to February 12 before I found what I wanted.On February 11, 1939, a four-man gang hijacked an armored car on a quiet Hollywood side street.Using a downed motorcycle as a diversion, the robbers overpowered the guard who left the car to investigate the accident.Putting a knife to his throat, they forced the other two guards still inside the car to let them in.Once inside, they chloroformed and trussed all three men and substituted six bags filled with phone book scraps and slugs for six bags filled with cash.One robber drove the armored car to downtown Hollywood; the other three changed into uniforms identical to the ones the guards wore.The three in uniform walked in the door of Boulevard-Citizens Savings & Loan on Yucca and Ivar, carrying the sacks of paper and slugs, and the manager opened the vault for them.One of the robbers sapped the manager; the other two grabbed sacks of real money and headed for the door.By this time, the driver had entered the bank, and had rounded up the tellers.He herded them into the vault and sapped them, then shut the door and locked it.All four robbers were back on the sidewalk when a Hollywood Division patrol car, alerted by a bank-to-station alarm, arrived.The officers ordered the heisters to halt; they opened fire; the cops fired back.Two robbers were killed and two escaped--with four bags filled with unmarked fifties and C-notes.When I saw no mention of Blanchard or Kay Lake, I skimmed a week of page one and two accounts of the LAPD investigation [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.You should stay home."Kay shuddered."No.It's a big moment for Lee.""He told you to come?""No.He would never do that.""The sensitive type, huh?"Kay dug in her pockets for cigarettes and matches, then lit up."Yes.Like you, but without the chip on the shoulder."I felt myself go red."You're always there for each other? Thick and thin and all that?""We try.""Then why aren't you married? Shacking's against the regs, and if the brass decided to get snotty they could nail Lee for it."Kay blew rings at the floor, then looked up at me."We can't.""Why not? You've been shacked for years.He quit fighting smokers for you.He lets you flirt with other men.Sounds like an ace deal to me."More shouts echoed.Glancing sidelong, I saw Blanchard pounding a new punchy.I countered the shots, duking the stale gym air.After a few seconds I saw what I was doing and stopped.Kay flipped her cigarette in the direction of the ring and said, "I have to go now.Good luck, Dwight."Only the old man called me that."You didn't answer my question."Kay said, "Lee and I don't sleep together," then walked away before I could do anything but stare.o o oI hung around the gym for another hour or so.Toward dusk, reporters and cameramen startedGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlarriving, making straight for center ring, Blanchard and his boring knockdowns of glass-chinned pugs.Kay Lake's exit line stayed with me, along with flashes of her laughing and smiling and turning sad at the drop of a hat.When I heard a newshound yell, "Hey! There's Bleichert!" I exited, running out to the parking lot and my twice-mortgaged Chevy.Pulling away, I realized I had no place to go and nothing I wanted to do except satisfy my curiosity about a woman who was coming on like gangbusters and a big load of grief.So I drove downtown to read her press clippings.The clerk at the _Herald_ morgue, impressed with my badge, led me to a reading table.I told him I was interested in the Boulevard-Citizens bank robbery and the trial of the captured robber, and that I thought the date was sometime early in '39 for the heist, maybe fall of the same year for the legal proceedings.He left me sitting there and returned ten minutes later with two large, leather-bound scrapbooks.Newspaper pages were glued to heavy black cardboard sheets, arranged chronologically, and I flipped from February 1 to February 12 before I found what I wanted.On February 11, 1939, a four-man gang hijacked an armored car on a quiet Hollywood side street.Using a downed motorcycle as a diversion, the robbers overpowered the guard who left the car to investigate the accident.Putting a knife to his throat, they forced the other two guards still inside the car to let them in.Once inside, they chloroformed and trussed all three men and substituted six bags filled with phone book scraps and slugs for six bags filled with cash.One robber drove the armored car to downtown Hollywood; the other three changed into uniforms identical to the ones the guards wore.The three in uniform walked in the door of Boulevard-Citizens Savings & Loan on Yucca and Ivar, carrying the sacks of paper and slugs, and the manager opened the vault for them.One of the robbers sapped the manager; the other two grabbed sacks of real money and headed for the door.By this time, the driver had entered the bank, and had rounded up the tellers.He herded them into the vault and sapped them, then shut the door and locked it.All four robbers were back on the sidewalk when a Hollywood Division patrol car, alerted by a bank-to-station alarm, arrived.The officers ordered the heisters to halt; they opened fire; the cops fired back.Two robbers were killed and two escaped--with four bags filled with unmarked fifties and C-notes.When I saw no mention of Blanchard or Kay Lake, I skimmed a week of page one and two accounts of the LAPD investigation [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]