Read Online Thieves Dozen by Donald E. Westlake - Free Book Online

comparatively calm robber, he said, “You wouldn’t happen to have a white flag or anything like that, would you?”
    The robber pressed the point of the Uzi to Dortmunder’s side. “Out,” he said.
    “Right,” Dortmunder said. He faced front, put his hands way up in the air and stepped outside.
    What a
lot
of attention he got. From behind all those blue-and-whites on the other side of the street, tense faces stared. On the rooftops of the red-brick tenements, in this neighborhood deep in the residential heart of Queens, sharpshooters began to familiarize themselves through their telescopic sights with the contours of Dortmunder’s furrowed brow. To left and right, the ends of the block were sealed off with buses parked nose to tailpipe, past which ambulances and jumpy white-coated medics could be seen. Everywhere, rifles and pistols jittered in nervous fingers. Adrenaline ran in the gutters.
    “I’m not with
them
!” Dortmunder shouted, edging across the sidewalk, arms upraised, hoping this announcement wouldn’t upset the other bunch of armed hysterics behind him. For all he knew, they had a problem with rejection.
    However, nothing happened behind him, and what happened out front was that a bullhorn appeared, resting on a police-car roof, and roared at him, “
You a hostage?
”
    “I sure am!” yelled Dortmunder.
    “
What’s your name?
”
    Oh, not again, thought Dortmunder, but there was nothing for it. “Diddums,” he said.
    “
What?
”
    “
Diddums!
”
    A brief pause: “
Diddums?
”
    “
It’s Welsh!
”
    “Ah.”
    There was a little pause while whoever was operating the bullhorn conferred with his compatriots, and then the bullhorn said, “
What’s the situation in there?
”
    What kind of question was that? “Well, uh,” Dortmunder said, and remembered to speak more loudly, and called, “kind of tense, actually.”
    “
Any of the hostages been harmed?
”
    “Uh-uh. No. Definitely not. This is a . . . this is a . . . nonviolent confrontation.” Dortmunder fervently hoped to establish that idea in everybody’s mind, particularly if he were going to be out here in the middle much longer.
    “
Any change in the situation?
”
    Change? “Well,” Dortmunder answered, “I haven’t been in there that long, but it seems like—”
    “
Not that long? What’s the matter with you, Diddums? You’ve been in that bank over two hours now!
”
    “Oh, yeah!” Forgetting, Dortmunder lowered his arms and stepped forward to the curb. “That’s right!” he called. “Two hours!
More
than two hours! Been in there a long time!”
    “
Step out here away from the bank!
”
    Dortmunder looked down and saw his toes hanging ten over the edge of the curb. Stepping back at a brisk pace, he called, “I’m not supposed to do that!”
    “
Listen, Diddums, I’ve got a lot of tense men and women over here. I’m telling you, step away from the bank!
”
    “The fellas inside,” Dortmunder explained, “they don’t want me to step off the curb. They said they’d, uh, well, they just don’t want me to do it.”
    “Psst! Hey, Diddums!”
    Dortmunder paid no attention to the voice calling from behind him. He was concentrating too hard on what was happening right now out front. Also, he wasn’t that used to the new name yet.
    “Diddums!”
    “
Maybe you better put your hands up again.
”
    “Oh, yeah!” Dortmunder’s arms shot up like pistons blowing through an engine block. “There they are!”
    “Diddums, goddamn it, do I have to
shoot
you to get you to pay attention?”
    Arms dropping, Dortmunder spun around. “Sorry! I wasn’t— I was— Here I am!”
    “
Get those goddamn hands up!
”
    Dortmunder turned sideways, arms up so high his sides hurt. Peering sidelong to his right, he called to the crowd across the street, “Sirs, they’re talking to me inside now.” Then he peered sidelong to his left, saw the comparatively calm robber crouched beside the broken doorframe and looking less