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Kelp said.
    May said, ‘I’m not.’
    â€˜Every man.’
    â€˜Victor is a weirdo,’ Dortmunder said.
    â€˜But he comes up with good ideas.’
    â€˜Like secret handshakes.’
    â€˜He doesn’t have to do the job with us,’ Kelp said. ‘He just pointed to it.’
    â€˜That’s all he has to do.’
    â€˜He’s got all that F.B.I. experience.’
    May looked alert. ‘The F.B.I.’s after him?’
    â€˜He was in the F.B.I.,’ Kelp said and waved his hand to indicate he didn’t want to explain any more. ‘It’s a long story,’ he said.
    â€˜I don’t know,’ Dortmunder said. He sat down wearily on the sofa beside May. ‘What I prefer,’ he said, ‘is a simple hold-up. You put a handkerchief over your face, you walk in, you show guns, you take the money, you walk away. Simple, straightforward, honest.’
    â€˜It’s getting tougher these days,’ Kelp said. ‘Nobody uses money any more. There aren’t any payroll jobs because there aren’t any payrolls; everybody pays by check. Stores are on credit cards, so they never have any cash either. A bag of money is a very tough thing to find these days.’
    â€˜Don’t I know it,’ said Dortmunder. ‘It’s all very depressing.’
    May said to Kelp, ‘Why don’t you go get yourself a beer?’
    â€˜Sure. You?’
    â€˜Naturally.’
    â€˜Dortmunder?’
    Dortmunder nodded. He was frowning across at the blank television screen.
    Kelp went out to the kitchen, and May said, ‘What do you think of it, really?’
    â€˜I think it’s the only thing that’s come along in a year,’ Dortmunder said.
    â€˜But do you like it?’
    â€˜I told you what I liked. I like to go to a shoe factory with four other guys, walk into the payroll office, walk out with the payroll. But everybody pays by check.’
    â€˜So what are you going to do?’
    From the kitchen, Kelp called, ‘We can get in touch with Murch, have him check it out. He’d be our driver.’ They could hear him popping can tops out there.
    â€˜I got to go with what’s there,’ Dortmunder said, shrugging. Then he shook his head and said, ‘But I really don’t like all this razzle-dazzle. I’m like a regular cowboy and the only place left to work is the rodeo.’
    â€˜So you look it over,’ May said, ‘you see how it pans out, you don’t have to commit yourself one way or the other yet.’
    Dortmunder gave her a crooked grin. ‘Keep me out of mischief,’ he said.
    That’s what she’d been thinking. She didn’t say anything, just grinned back, and was removing a cigarette ember from her mouth when Kelp came in with the beer. ‘Why don’t I do that?’ he said, handing the cans around. ‘Give Murch a call.’
    Dortmunder shrugged. ‘Go ahead.’

7
    Stan Murch, in a uniform-like blue jacket, stood on the sidewalk in front of the Hilton and watched cab after cab make the loop in to the main entrance. Doesn’t anybody travel in their own car any more? Then at last a Chrysler Imperial with Michigan plates came hesitantly up Sixth Avenue, made the left-hand loop into the Hilton driveway and stopped at the entrance. As a woman and several children got out of the doors on the right of the car, toward the hotel entrance, the driver climbed heavily out on the left. He was a big man with a cigar and a camel’s-hair coat.
    Murch was at the door before it was halfway open, pulling it the rest of the way and saying, ‘Just leave the keys in it, sir.’
    â€˜Right,’ the man said around his cigar. He got out and sort of shook himself inside the coat. Then, as Murch was about to get behind the wheel, the driver said, ‘Wait.’
    Murch looked at him. ‘Sir?’
    â€˜Here you go, boy,’ the man said and pulled a folded