ficlet: a matter of policy

[jae_w]

ficlet, Carden/Ryan as requested by elfiepike

[a matter of policy]
Like the old man said, take the money and run
Carden/Ryan


"Are you sure this is the one we saw in the window?" Ryan said, pursing his lips suspiciously, as if he thought the salesman was trying to slip something past him.

"You saw him take it out yourself," Carden said, but Ryan just reached out and adjusted his tie, one hand light against the new clean cotton of his shirt. He reached down and toyed with one of the suspenders, twisting it backwards and then letting it snap straight, until Ryan slapped his hand away.

The salesman said, "It's the newest style, fresh from New York City, you're fortunate to even find a store that carries it here." He sounded nervous. Carden couldn't tell if it was because he was afraid of losing such a big sale - God knew no one else was buying much of anything in the middle of a Depression -or if he'd gotten a look at what Carden was hiding in his jacket when he took it off in the dressing room.

"Hmm," Ryan said. He picked up a fedora from the counter next to them and put it on Carden's head, tilting it thoughtfully. Then he tilted it the other way. "Hmm," he said.

"What?" Carden said.

"Nothing, it's just - you're sure this is the suit from the window?" Ryan said as the sales clerk shuffled anxiously and nodded. "It's just - it looked so sharp in the window and now it looks - you look like -"

"What?" Carden said.

Ryan said, "You look like a rube." The sales clerk let out a quick sharp bark of laughter, then ran his hand over his mouth like he was wiping his face clean. Suddenly Carden didn't feel bad about him losing this sale.

"Well, you can't blame the suit for that," Carden said. "I told you I was better off as I was, I'm going to change -"

"No," Ryan said. "No, I told you. You have to look the part."

"And if I can't?"

"You can," Ryan said. "You're just not trying." He sighed and then said to the salesman, "We'll take it." When Carden raised an eyebrow he said, "You need some sort of disguise, and I guess big rich hick is as good as any, even if it wasn't what I was going for." Ryan looked back at the clerk. "He'll wear it out - can you go ring it up?"

Once the salesman had gone back to the front of the store Ryan fiddled with Carden's tie again, then sighed. "You don't even try," he said, and something about the tragic tone of his voice and the prim frown on his lips made Carden laugh and push him back against the mirror, kissing him until Ryan threw an arm around his neck and pulled him in tighter, heedless of the clerk. When Carden let go he could see himself in the mirror, his hair mussed where Ryan's fingers had rumpled it. He didn't bother to brush it back into place.

"Where's my jacket?" he said, but Ryan shook his head at him in the glass and then bent down over the bench, pushing Carden's coat onto the floor.

"Leave that disgusting thing here, wear your new one out."

"Yeah, it's not the jacket I'm so worried about," Carden said.

Ryan said, "Is this what you're worried about?" He lifted his arms out straight, Carden's gun braced in both his hands as he leveled it at Carden's chest.

Carden knew Ryan had no intent, could barely fire the thing without Carden's hand over his own on the trigger, but he'd been doing this too long not to catch his breath at the sight of a loaded gun pointed at him.

"One day," he said calmly, the way he always spoke to a man with a gun pointed at him, "one day you're going to do something you'll be sorry for."

"No, I won't," Ryan said, looking at him evenly over the barrel of the gun. He grimaced as Carden wrenched his wrist up and back, just a little harder than absolutely necessary to disarm him, catching the gun easily as Ryan dropped it.

He flicked the safety on as Ryan rubbed his wrist. Ryan was reckless, always; he never checked to see if the safety was on or if the gun was loaded. Someday he was going to do something he'd be sorry for, but Carden would have only himself to blame. He was the one who kept letting Ryan get hold of the thing. He was the one who couldn't tell Ryan no. He checked the safety again and then tucked the gun into his waistband where it would be hidden by the new jacket. There was a bulge over his hip, but not so you'd notice, he thought, if you didn't know what to look for. If someone knew what to look for he was already screwed.

"Hmm," Ryan said thoughtfully as Carden walked up to the counter and took out his wallet.

"What?"

"Nothing," Ryan said. "Just - now you look the part." When Carden turned to look at him Ryan avoided his eyes, snatching a scarf from the display on the counter and tying it around his neck while Carden watched.

"Put it on his tab," Ryan said, stroking the scarf as he tucked it into his shirt, and Carden didn't complain as the clerk rang it up.

Outside the store Siska was sitting in the car, poring over the git he'd written up carefully, precise directions to take them along deserted side streets to and from the bank in Columbus City. Carden knew he'd be fine. Three days ago Butcher had taken him down for a trial run, making him drive the route until Siska knew it with his eyes closed, but Carden was still pleased to see the kid studying up. No one could ever prepare too much for a job like this.

He didn't say as much, though, tapping Siska on the head through the open window as Ryan scrambled into the back seat. "What did Butcher tell you about leaving the car running? What if I needed to get out of here fast?"

"Sorry," Siska said, starting the car smoothly, "I just wanted to make sure -"

"You're fine," Carden said as he got into the car next to Ryan. "Don't overthink it."

"Look who's talking," Siska said smartly, and Butcher had taught him that too, Carden though sourly. Ryan laughed next to him and tucked his arm into Carden's.

It was an hour before Siska pulled up to the curb a block from the bank, leaving the engine running obediently as Carden got out. "Drive him to the coffeeshop out by the highway," Carden said. He pulled a few bills from his wallet and pressed them into Ryan's hand. "Go read your book and have a cup of coffee till we're done," he said. "We'll pick you up in an hour, and if we're not there in two, hitchhike into the next town and get on the train to Chicago. If anything goes wrong I'll meet you at the Green Mill as soon as I can get there."

Ryan knelt up on the seat and reached out through the window to smooth Carden's tie. "You look the part," he said, and tilted Carden's hat over his eyes before he kissed him.

At the door to the bank the man in front of Carden swore as he almost tripped over a tall blond workman and his tool chest. The workman mumbled something in a thick foreign language and smiled briefly at Carden as he passed. Carden chose the longest line and waited patiently until he was third in line and the policeman cashing his paycheck and flirting with one of the tellers had left. Then he stepped out of line and kicked the front door shut, nodding to Butcher as he took out his gun.

Butcher leapt onto the counter, swinging his machine gun into sight as the tellers screamed and ducked down. "Good morning, ladies and gents," he called, "you know the drill. Everyone down on the ground, no one play the hero, and we'll be out of here before you know it, all of us a little richer. Well, I'll be a little richer, and you'll be richer in experience, with a fine story to tell your grandchildren, and isn't that worth more than gold in the end?" He gestured to one of the women behind the counter. "Empty those cash drawers into this bag, sweetheart, quick as you can, that's my girl."

Carden walked through the crowd of cowering customers and seized an old man in a suit by the lapels. "You're the manager, right? You come with me and open up the vault."

"They don't - they don't let us have the combination anymore," the old man stammered. "Security measures, they give us just enough cash for the day, all the robberies, they've been afraid -"

"It's true," said a young teller from the floor, pushing his hair away from his forehead. "They've got everything locked up and the police come by almost every hour, the banks in this state have been hit so many times -"

"Our reputation goes before us, Carden," Butcher yelled from the counter, and laughed as the customers gasped at the name.

"No matter," Carden said, "we'll get into that vault one way or another," and the old man put his hands up in front of his face like he thought Carden would shoot him. Carden had a better plan than shooting an old man, though. He nodded at Butcher again, and Butcher called,

"You're up, Tommy - showtime."

At the door Tom got to his feet, opening up his tool chest and pulling out his own gun, which he tucked into the back of his pants. Then he pulled out a smaller bag of tools and said, "Somebody show me where the vault is."

Carden kicked the teller at his feet. "You - get up and show him," and the young man got up slowly. As he passed Carden he muttered,

"Green Mill, Thursday?"

Carden nodded as Tom grabbed William's sleeve and shoved him down the hallway in front of him.

"Well now," Butcher said, leaning against one of the large marble pillars, "let's all make ourselves comfortable, shall we? I don't suppose anyone knows any funny stories. All right then, I suppose I'll have to tell one," he said, and Carden sighed and settled in for a wait.

Tom was the best lockpick they were likely to find, Butcher always said, but Carden found him too slow for his taste. He shifted on his feet, looking down the hallway, but before he could go after Tom and William, Butcher said, "Let the man do his job," and Carden sighed again and stayed where he was.

After another five minutes he was determined to go after them, but before Butcher could warn him off again the front door opened and Butcher and Carden both spun toward it, guns in hand.

"It's me, it's me," Siska said, fumbling awkwardly with his own gun.

"About time," Butcher said as Carden said, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"We needed a man on the door," Butcher said. "When Tommy's in the back you and I've got our hands full in here, and with the cops out in force the way they are, well -"

"And who's going to drive us away in your grand plan, now that Sisky's in with us?" Carden growled.

Butcher looked at him.

"No," Carden said, and then shut his mouth, because the next thing he thought to say was, "I'll kill you," and he'd never been one for idle threats.

"He's fine, I took him out to drive the route two days ago, he wanted to be in on it," Butcher said. "Besides, you said yourself - it's not safe, to have someone along with us whose hands aren't dirty. You're either all the way in or you're out, you said -"

"Yes," Carden said. "I said so myself." He jerked his head at Siska. "Keep an eye on these people. I'm going to go see what's taking Tom so long."

Tom took his sweet time but he got the job done in the end, and when he and Carden walked out through the bank with their guns balanced over the sacks of cash, Butcher leapt down from the counter.

"Thank you for your kind cooperation, ladies and gents," he called. "I wish you all a good day, and - you," he said, putting an arm around the shoulders of a pretty teller in a red dress. "You come along with us - don't worry, sweetheart, we won't hurt you, and you'll make sure no one hurts us."

They walked out with the girl in front of them, straight out to the car as it idled at the curb with Ryan behind the wheel.

"How'd it go?" Ryan asked as he pulled the car smoothly into traffic. Siska launched into an excited recitation while Butcher spoke soothingly to the woman from the bank.

Carden didn't look away from the window. "You'll go too far one day," he said quietly.

"With you?" Ryan said, just as quietly. "I don't think so." When Carden looked back at him Ryan smiled and watched the road.

A few miles out of town Ryan pulled over and Butcher got out of the car. "Ride's over, sweetheart," he said to the girl from the bank. "I'm afraid we'll have to leave you here - forgive me?" He smiled and she smiled back reluctantly.

"Give her something," Carden said from the front seat.

The girl looked up in alarm. "No, I won't - I promise I won't tell, I won't -"

Carden sighed and tossed one of the sacks to Butcher. He pulled out a few bills and put them in the girl's purse. "We'll have to let you walk home from here, my darling, and you'll ruin those shoes, and that pretty dress. Just a little something to buy yourself something new. Just - promise me one thing, will you?"

She looked up at him trustingly. "Buy yourself any dress you like, just promise me it won't be red. Green, blue, I don't care, but you break too many hearts in red. You've got to give the menfolk a fair chance, sweetheart, so promise me, no more red dresses."

She laughed and Butcher laughed too. "Go on now," he said, "there's a farm half a mile back," and she set off across the fields. Butcher watched her go and then got back in the car, shoving Siska over on the seat.

"You enjoy that too much," Carden said.

"Someone's got to, Carden," Butcher said. "Someone's got to."

The next morning they gathered in the back room at the Green Mill, waiting for William to make his way in. Jon and Tom ran to the corner and came back with sandwiches and coffee, a paper under Jon's arm. "You're famous," Jon said as they put the food down on the table.

Siska spread the paper out on the table. "Look, we are," he said, and then, "Well, Carden is."

The front page had a picture of the bank in Columbus City and a headline, Carden Gang Makes Daring Daylight Score, in tall letters. Siska read out loud from a column lower down, "Lady in Red Says: Carden Is A Gentleman."

Tom laughed. "It's true, you're a prince among men."

"Read it, Sisky," Butcher said.

"Linda Martin, 21, held hostage by threatening gang, blah blah blah, oh, okay, here we go. 'Miss Martin stated, "I don't care what they say about him, he was a true gentleman. He spoke very politely to me, and sure, he joked, but you could tell, there was something tragic underneath. He was driven to a life of crime, you could tell, a sick mother or a broken heart, but underneath it all he's a gentleman. He gave me money for a new outfit because I'd ruin mine walking back to town, and he made me promise not to get a red dress because I'd break too many hearts in it, isn't that sweet? Now, I can't speak for all of his men - there was one, a real thug he looked, he told Carden to give me something and you know he meant for him to kill me, but Carden refused, he wouldn't stand for that. I wouldn't like to be left alone with that thug, I'll tell you that, but Carden, he knew how to treat a lady."'

"I didn't tell you to kill her," Carden said irritably. "I told you to give her some money, although I didn't tell you to give her two hundred dollars."

"That's because you're incurably cheap," Butcher said cheerfully.

"It's true," William said from the doorway. "You're cheap, but a true gentleman at heart, despite your tragic past."

Tom and Butcher got up, clapping William on the back and fetching him coffee. As he sat down Carden said to him, low, "All right?"

"All right," William said. "I got out fine."

"Okay then," Carden said. "Let's split the take and get on our way. We're too hot here, the sooner we go our separate ways and get out of town, the better."

"We could do that," William said, and Butcher looked up sharply from across the table at the tone of his voice. "Or."

Carden wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking what he meant. Siska would, however.

"Or what?" he said. "What else could we do, Bill?"

"This was a decent take," William said. "Not bad, enough to keep us for a couple of months before we'll have to go again, but here's the thing. Carden and me were talking, and it's getting too hot for all of us everywhere - the cops are all over, one of these days they're going to figure out how to actually solve a crime, and then we'll all be in trouble. Not many more takes like this in our future."

"Right," Carden said. He and William had talked it over a month since, deciding whether it was worth it to hit the bank in Columbus City. It was worth the risk, they'd decided, but it was true, the day was coming when it wouldn't be.

"So I was thinking," William said. Carden looked at him. Usually William came to him first with his ideas, unless he thought Carden wouldn't agree, unless he thought Carden would fight him. Doing it in front of the others wouldn't stop Carden from fighting with him, of course, but it might keep Carden from winning. "I was thinking - one more hit, a big one, and all of us could walk away with enough to keep us for life, someplace small and cheap and far from here. There's a job right here in the city, a big job this week, I think we could do it, I know we can. One big hit, that's all we need."

"That's what you always say," Carden said. "And we had a big job once, don't you remember? I do." Their first job, back when it was just him and William and a couple of guys from the old neighborhood, Siska tagging along to play lookout because not even William would have put a gun in his hand back in those days. They'd planned a big job, daring each other to do it, and they'd done it, a big score, bigger than any since. Of course, it was one thing to rob a bank and another to move the money, as they'd found after they'd fled for the city with a sack full of marked bills. William had ended up moving it, finally, through some syndicate guy he'd met, pennies on the dollar, of course, and they ended up with barely enough to keep them for a month after all their trouble. Carden had been too distracted to help, or to care. He'd been half-shocked that they pulled it off, that it wasn't all just drunk talk late at night, half-shocked that they pulled it off and more shocked at what he'd done to make sure they'd get away with it. Back then he'd liked the idea of himself as a bank robber. He'd never thought of himself as a killer.

"It was too big for us back then," William said quietly. "We can do better now - Tom can get us in the vault, and Butcher's been moving money for us, he knows people, he can do it right. We can do it right this time, finally. I know we can."

"It's too risky," Carden said. "They'll be looking for us after the last job, and here, in the city - people know us here, William, you live here - it's not worth it. We can just take our split from the last haul, and you must have saved some from before, it's enough to start somewhere -"

"It's not enough," William said, something sharp in his voice and his eyes. William had a wife and a baby tucked away in a little house on the north side. Carden had never been there; William kept them separate from this part of his life. He thought William's wife might actually think that he was a bank teller. William had a wife and he had a baby and he liked to gamble a little, on the side, with his syndicate friend. One thing Carden knew about William after all these years, whatever they made, it was never enough.

"Think about it," William said. "One big hit and we wouldn't have to worry about slinking around in the corners of the city, scared of our shadows. One big hit and we could get out of here, we could go anywhere, everywhere -"

"Mexico," Butcher said, his voice high and hopeful, and that was a bad sign, Carden knew, it was a bad fucking sign but he wasn't beaten yet. "I've always wanted to spend the winter somewhere warm - Sisky, don't you want a suntan?"

"Mexico," Jon said, turning the word over in his mouth.

"Cuba," Tom said, smiling at him, and Jon said, "Cuba," and smiled back, a whole conversation Carden couldn't hear hidden in the words and the smiles. Still, he thought, still -

"Jail," he said. Siska swallowed and William looked at him, his chin up. "That's where we'll end up, if we're not careful -"

"There's such a thing as too careful," Ryan said softly next to him.

Carden laughed. "In this crowd?"

"And who's your friend, then?" William asked silkily. "I'd like to know ahead of time, Mike, if someone's going to join our merry band."

"So would I," Carden said, looking sharply at Ryan. William looked at him.

"Well," William said. "No point talking all day. There's only one question - are you in?"

He could say no, Carden knew. If he said no it wouldn't make a difference what the rest of them said, William would never do it without him. It was the smart thing to do, saying no, Carden knew. It was too soon after the last job, it was too big and too fast, no time to plan well, it was too risky. There wasn't any such thing as too careful, at least not that Carden had ever seen. He could say no, Carden knew, and he would.

Next to him Ryan sat back with his chair tipped on two legs and looked up at the wall across from them. Pinned to the dingy white wall, unframed and tattered at the edges, were a series of postcards, places patrons had visited over the years, Greece, Rome, London, Paris. Ryan looked at them, his eyes wide and his mouth curved in a small smile. The night before Ryan had smiled like that, curling up next to Carden, sliding a hand over his chest to help him with the buttons on his shirt, smiling just the same when Carden shoved his hand away.

"I told you I didn't want you in on that job," Carden had snapped. "What part of no did you not understand?"

Ryan hadn't answered but instead slipped to his knees, looking up at Carden with wide eyes. Carden was having none of it. He pulled Ryan up to his feet and then pushed him down on the bed, holding him down with his hands on Ryan's wrists. "When I say no I mean it," he said. Then he kissed Ryan, covering his mouth with his own so Ryan would learn the shape of the word no. God knew Ryan would never say it himself.

Afterwards Ryan pulled the sheet up and let Carden throw an arm around him, pulling Carden's hand down for a puff of his cigarette. "I should say no to you more often," Carden said thoughtfully, "as a matter of policy. Someone should, anyway." He lay there smoking in the dark, Ryan warm next to him, until he thought Ryan had fallen asleep. Then Ryan said, softly,

"I've been told no before, often enough."

In the dim light leaking in around the edges of the door Carden could see the scar on Ryan's arm, the small raised circle of shiny white skin, the scar he'd seen the first day he met Ryan in the little town diner, the day Ryan had taken him home and the day he'd taken Ryan away. He knew Ryan had been told no often enough in his life. He remembered thinking that day that he could spend his life telling Ryan yes and it still might not be enough to make up for everything. He put a hand on Ryan's hip and said, "Ry -" but Ryan rolled over onto his side.

"It's all right," Ryan had said, and put his hand over Carden's.

Now Ryan sat next to Carden, saying nothing, just looking at the pictures of all the places he'd never been, all the places Carden had never taken him. Carden had promised him the world and he'd given him shabby motel rooms and dirty back rooms in bars and Ryan had never said a word. Even now Ryan looked over at him and said, "It's all right," and he even believed it, Carden could tell. He believed it but Carden didn't.

Carden looked over at William, who was watching him carefully, lips shut tight over all the words he knew William wanted to pour over him, all his arguments and all his reasons. William had known Carden a long time, though, and he knew him well enough to know that there were times to argue and times to just let Carden talk himself around to something in his head. William had known Carden a long time, but he was still William, and after a few minutes he couldn't help himself. Carden had known he wouldn't be able to stay quiet so long.

"So," William said, leaning in on his elbows. "Are you in?"

All the boys looked at him expectantly but Ryan didn't even glance over at him. Under the table Carden wrapped his hand around Ryan's wrist.

"One big hit," Carden said. From the corner of his eye he could see Ryan smile. "Yeah, I'm in."