Pushing the stairs to the side, Emmett approached the safe, where, under a shelf of papers, thousands of brand-new fifty-dollar bills were neatly arranged in stacks.
Emmett ran a hand over his mouth.
One hundred and fifty thousand dollars, he thought. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars of old Mr. Wolcott’s wealth had been handed down to Woolly, and now Woolly had handed it down to them. He had handed it down by means of a last will and testament that was duly signed and dated.
There could be no question of Woolly’s intent. In that regard, Duchess had been quite right. It was Woolly’s money and he knew exactly what he wanted to do with it. Having been found temperamentally unfit to use it himself, in his absence he wanted his friends to use it as they pleased.
But what would happen if Emmett finished dragging Duchess to the Studebaker and dumped him at the police station?
As much as Emmett hated to admit it, Duchess had been right about that too. Once Duchess was in the hands of the cops and it became clear that Woolly was dead, the wheels of Emmett’s and Billy’s future would grind to a halt. Police and investigators would descend upon the house, followed by family members and attorneys. Circumstances would be studied. Inventories taken. Intentions second-guessed. Endless questions asked. And any turns of good fortune would be viewed with the utmost suspicion.
In another few moments, Emmett would close the door to Mr. Wolcott’s safe. That was a certainty. But once the door was closed, two different futures would be possible. In one, the contents of the safe would remain untouched. In the other, the space below the shelf would be empty.
—Woolly wanted the best for his friends, observed Billy.
—Yes, he did.
—For you and me, said Billy. And for Duchess too.
* * *
Once the decision was made, Emmett knew they would need to work quickly, putting things in order and leaving as few traces as possible.
After closing the door to the safe, Emmett gave Billy the task of cleaning up the office while he saw to the rest of the house.
First, having gathered up all the tools that Duchess had assembled—the hammer, screwdrivers, and ax—he carried them outside past the breached dory to the work shed.
Back inside, Emmett went to the kitchen. Certain that Woolly would never have eaten beans out of a can, Emmett put the empty can and Pepsi bottle in a paper bag to be carted out. Then he cleaned the spoon and returned it to the silverware drawer.
The broken pane of glass in the kitchen didn’t worry him. The authorities would assume that Woolly had broken the pane in order to get inside the locked house. But the rifle cabinet was another matter. That would be more likely to raise questions. Serious questions. After returning the rifle to its place in the cabinet, Emmett removed the croquet ball. Then he repositioned the stack of Adirondack chairs to make it look like they had toppled over and crashed through the glass.
Now it was time to deal with Duchess.
Taking him under the arms again, Emmett dragged him down the hallway, out of the muck room, and onto the grass.
When Emmett and Billy had decided to take their share of the money and leave Duchess behind with his, Billy had made Emmett promise that he wouldn’t hurt Duchess any more than he already had. But every minute that passed increased the risk that Duchess would regain consciousness and pose a whole new set of problems. Emmett had to put him somewhere that would slow him down for a few hours. Or at least long enough for Billy and Emmett to finish their work and be well on their way.
The trunk of the Cadillac? he wondered.
The problem with the trunk was that once Duchess regained consciousness, he would either be able to get out of it quickly or not at all, bad outcomes both.
The work shed?
No. There would be no way to secure its doors from the outside.
As Emmett was looking toward the shed, another idea presented itself, an interesting idea. But suddenly, at Emmett’s feet Duchess emitted a groan.
—Shit, said Emmett to himself.
Looking down, he could see that Duchess was moving his head lightly from side to side, on the verge of coming to. As Duchess emitted another groan, Emmett looked back over his shoulder to make sure that Billy wasn’t there. Then bending over, he lifted Duchess by the collar with his left hand and punched him in the face with his right.
With Duchess again at rest, Emmett dragged him in the direction of the shed.
* * *
? ? ?
Twenty minutes later, they were ready to go.
Unsurprisingly, Billy had done a perfect job of restoring the office. Every book was back on its shelf, every paper in its stack, every drawer in its slot. The only thing he hadn’t replaced was the bust of Abraham Lincoln because it was too heavy. When Emmett picked it up and began looking around for a place to set it down, Billy crossed to the desk.