"I won't tell you how—that would be silly. I don't mind telling you where." He put down another symbol.
"All right—where?"
"I'm not quite sure yet. Chicago, or New York, or Pittsburgh, or.... This is the master plan. I've almost finished. It involves the principals—the method of operation. There is much more to be done of course. Assistants will have to be approached, analyzed mathematically as to capabilities—"
"How much money are you thinking of stealing?"
"I figure I'll need about five million," Dalrymple said calmly.
Donovan and I looked at each other again and our eyes asked the questions. What should we do about this? Haul the guy in and get laughed at? Or did we have a right to haul him in if we wanted to? Just call him a crackpot and let it go at that?
Sure. It was the obvious thing to do. And the easiest. Why stick our necks out. And at that moment I saw Dalrymple smile ever so slightly as though he knew exactly what was going on in our minds—had made allowances for it on his damned chart.
Donovan shrugged. "Let's get away from this creep," he said.
We turned and walked out.