Ernie walked around work in an excited daze. He couldn't get Sandra out of his mind. Not that he would tell, but if he did nobody would believe what she did to him and what they did together. Ernie had been completely Sandra-ized; he would follow her to hell.

The plan to rob the man in Portsdown was a study in simplicity, and another way to show her his devotion. Afterwards, he and Sandra would be in a car and bound for the horizon and endless days of lovemaking. First he decided to add his own touch to the scheme, and he slipped into the stockroom and tracked down an item he planned to use as part of the job.

The toy was a pellet pistol, a replica of a Desert Eagle, 44-magnum. Even police found it difficult to tell them from the real thing. He slipped it under his smock, adjusted the inventory sheet and left in a giddy haste. Sandra would be real proud of his ingenuity.

Except for yellow, opaque-shaded lamps over the tables, the pool hall was so dark Ernie could barely see anything. He paused inside the door, adjusting to the overpowering stink of cigarette smoke, and waited until he could see through the gloom and then went to the high, courtroom style judge's bench along the wall.

"Abe, what's happenin'?"

"Ernie." Abe Feldstone rolled a cigar from one side of his mouth to the other and clamped down on it again. Abe rarely answered questions that meant nothing, and even when he did it was terse and concise.

"Skye around?"

"Table four."

"Thanks, Abe."

Abe grunted. Ernie stumbled his way to table four.

"Skye, my man, what's shakin'?"

Skye Groverland sank a ball off a carom and rested his cue stick on the rail, leaning down to peer under the light. "That you, Stark?"

"Yep, and I think I've got something you might like."

"Right now I'd like Germaine to waltz her tight bum in here and—"

Ernie pulled out the toy gun and dropped it on the table.

"Jesus, man, you crazy!" Skye scooped up the weapon and held it below the table.

Ernie giggled and slapped his thighs. "Oh man, I knew it! Take a good look, Skye. Better than Germaine, uh?"

The wiry black straightened up and held the weapon out under the light, turning it over in his large hand.

"It's a fake!" He dipped down and squinted closely at the gun. "It's a damn fake!"

"And a darn good one too, eh, Skye?" Ernie moved around beside him. "It's yours for something small, cheap and real."

"You nuts? I could buy this myself from your store. Why would I trade solid merchandise for this?"

"That toy, Skye, holds one hundred small shot and fires from a compressed slide. Put a hole in a tin can at ten feet. At my store it retails at two-fifty."

"You shittin' me?"

"Two-fifty plus ammo and tax, Skye."

He hefted the gun and sighted down the barrel. "And you want what, a twenty-two?"

"I'd like something bigger, but if that's all you got, I'll take it." He said with a little disappointment.

"You a good man, Ernie, I got a clean thirty-eight I can give you. Deal?"

Ernie high-fived him and grinned happily in the dim light.

ööööö

Barry found Sandra's rejection insulting and painful. He'd really thought she would jump at the chance to leave her current life behind. Actually, he'd hoped she would think that way. When they had met, and Barry made his proposal; he even hinted at how it was all possible.

Sandra had surprised him by suggesting they get into bed and think about it; he agreed, wondering what she had to think about and when they were done, she said to give her a while to think it over some more. She would call. What the hell was this, he wondered, a test drive? Miffed, Barry left and said he'd wait to hear.

When he finally did, she didn't exactly say no, but it didn't take a scholar to read between the lines - the lines she delivered over the phone. Sandra didn't feel she could stand being the other woman in such a scheme. Now his big triumph would be a solo event unless he found another option. Gwen Hollinger flitted through his mind again and he wondered if he could dare approach her

Nothing in their relationship suggested she would remotely consider such a rash act; most of their contact had been company parties and the expected flirting. Maybe he should just move his timetable up and to hell with the risk. Doris was growing more tedious each minute, a product of his own impatience he knew, still his home life was dunning.

He leaned over and peered through his office door at the back of his secretary. What would Rosemary be like in a bikini, he wondered? The thought exploded when her grating voice announced over the intercom that Ted Hollinger wished to see him.

"Send him in." All the pressure of his plan and the disappointment of Sandra's refusal made him wonder if he shouldn't move up his timetable. It was thought worth pursuing, anything to get away from his annoying visitor for good. A picture came to his mind and he filed his thoughts of Rosemary along with new ones of Heidi at the travel agency downstairs, nodding absently as Ted entered the office.

"Yep it's me."

"Huh?"

"I saw you nod when I entered like you had guessed right or something."

"You know, Hollinger, half the time I have absolutely no bloody idea what you're talking about. What do you want anyhow?"

"I need to know the train time and the room number in Portsdown. Gwen's going out of town tomorrow on some personal business for us and she'll need to know how to reach me."

"Tell her to ask at the desk."

"C'mon, Barry, you know what hotel policies are like these days. Privacy rules and all that crap."

"I might be changing the plan."

Ted froze, his smile cracking like very thin ice. "Changing?"

"I might go myself for a change."

"But you never go!" Ted saw his future swirling rapidly away.

"That's why I said, for a change, Hollinger. What are you so agitated for?"

Ted wiped dampness from his upper lip, his mind spinning crazily. "Uuhh- Look, Barry, uuuh. If I don't go things could be uh- very awkward for me."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

With a tap dance that would put Astaire to shame, Ted fabricated an ongoing affair in Portsdown, that if interrupted, could bring the roof down on his marriage. He confessed to having started it on the first trip he made.

"Son-of-a-bitch." Barry studied his employee with fresh eyes. "You old bugger, you. Why, when you've got a woman like Gwen at home, would you fool around out of town?" This took the cake. here he was throwing money at women to run off with him, and this jerk was finding them on one night stays in the boonies.

"Because it is out of town, Barry. Shit, don't tell me you've never cheated on Doris."

"Damn right I won't tell. None of your goddamn business." He conjured up an image of Heidi's face again. "What's she like?"

"Who?"

"Who? Your mother for Christ's sake. Who do you think? The dame in Portsdown." Barry sucked his teeth in exasperation.

"Oh. Hey, a gentleman doesn't tell, Barry, you understand."

"No I don't understand. I asked what she was like and if you want to see her again on this company's dime you'll tell me."

"Jesus! Okay, okay. Her uh- she's about uhm twenty-nine. Average height and weight. Big bazooms," he winked and flushed as Barry's expression stayed fixed. "I uh- met her in the hotel bar."

"A hooker?"

"Oh no. Just a bored housewife, I think."

"So you could wreck her marriage too."

Ted realized his error and jumped in quickly. "Divorced now. Yeah, that's uh- that's why she was hanging out in hotel bars."

"And why were you hangin' out in hotel bars? Is that why the expense sheet is so high?"

"My expense sheet isn't high, and it was the bar in the hotel you sent me to." Ted was getting mad and less worried about his alibi.

"So you accomplish all this in one night's stay."

"I told you, Jesus... it's been going on for a while."

"What's her name?"

"Aw, Barry."

"Name, Hollinger. How do I know this isn't all a load of camel crap?"

Camel crap? "Why would I do that? I'm trying to protect myself here, Barry." The face closed. "Okay. Jesus. Her name's Gail. Gail Armbruster. That's her married name, I don't know her maiden name."

"And I don't know when my fly's open. Get out of here, Hollinger. Rosemary'll give you the hotel details." He shook his head in disgust and punctuated it with an equally repulsive sound.