52
The cops have knocked off for the evening, with their photographs and evidence bags and burnt-out hire car towed away for forensics.
I'm planning on leaving, too, before anyone notices. Suspect in the armoured truck robbery or not, I can't afford to hang around here any longer.
From the motel room window, I spot Herb's truck parked up in the lay-by down the side of Al's bar. I leave the room and cross the street to Al's. Most of the bar area is taped off, Wallace's chalk outline still fresh on the floor. I find Herb at a table, chowing down.
"Okay to catch a lift out of here?" I ask.
"Sure, buddy," he says, supping on his beer. "Be outta here in twenty. Your bag packed?"
"It soon will be," I say.
"See you soon," Herb says.
I jog out of Al's and across the street. I take a fast s
