The fact that they ignored the vault made Don feel better. He thought when he first heard about the robbery that the men might have been after the brief case he'd stored there, which would have meant that he was under suspicion. But apparently the job was a genuine heist, not a cover-up for something else.
Police Chief Vincent Grande reached the scene half an hour after the criminals left it. His car had frozen up and wouldn't start. He arrived by taxi, red-faced, fingering the butt of his holstered service automatic.
Negus and his confederate, identified as a poolroom lounger named Hank Stacy, had gotten away with a hundred thousand dollars.
"I didn't know there was that much money in town," was Grande's comment on that. While he was asking other questions the telephone rang and someone told the bank president he'd seen Negus and Stacy go into the poolroom. In fact, the robbers' convertible was parked blatantly in front of the place.
Grande, looking as if he'd rather be dog catcher, got back into the taxi.
Joe Negus and Hank Stacy were sitting on opposite sides of a pool table when the police chief got there, dividing the money in three piles. A third man stood by, watching closely. He was Jerry Lynch, a lawyer. He greeted Grande.
"Morning, Vince," he said easily. "Come to shoot a little pool?"
"I'll shoot some bank robbers if they don't hand over that money," Grande said. He had his gun out and looked almost purposeful.
Negus and Stacy made no attempt to go for their guns, Stacy seemed nervous but Negus went on counting the money without looking up.
"Is it your money, Vince?" Jerry Lynch asked.