this!”
From the backseat Benny leaned forward. He stuck his head between Packy and Jo-Jo. “What’s so special about getting your hands on that tree?” he asked. “Are you supposed to make a wish or something?”
It was pitch dark. The van was the only vehicle on the quiet country road. Packy, Jo-Jo, and Benny were on their way to case the situation on the Pickens property. As Packy had exclaimed bitterly, “For all we know the Rockefeller Center people left a guard overnight watching the tree. Before we go lumbering over there in the flatbed, we gotta see what’s going on.”
“Benny, figure it out,” Jo-Jo snarled. “Packy must’ve hid something in the tree and is worried he won’t be able to get it out. It has to be our money stuck in there, Packy. Right?”
“Bingo,” Packy snapped. “You should apply to be a member of the Mensa Society. You’d be a shoo-in.”
“What’s the Mensa Society?” Benny asked.
“It’s a kind of club. You take a test. If you pass, you get to go to meetings with other people who passed, and you congratulate one another on how smart you all are. One of them was in my cell block. He was so smart that when he passed a note to the bank teller to fork over money, he wrote it on his own deposit slip.”
Packy knew he was ranting as though he was out of his mind. Sometimes it was like that when he got rattled. Get your cool back, he told himself. Breathe deep. Think beautiful thoughts. He thought about money.
Outside the temperature was dropping. He could feel the slight slip of the tires as the van hit a patch of ice.
“So answer me, Packy,” Jo-Jo insisted. “Our money’s in that tree. You were in the can over twelve years. So why didn’t you stash it in a numbered account in Switzerland or in a safe deposit box? What turned you into a squirrel?”
Packy could not prevent his voice from becoming shrill. “Let me explain. And listen real good so I don’t have to repeat ’cause we’re almost there.” He floored the brake as he spotted a deer emerging from the bushes at the side of the road. “Get lost, Bambi,” he muttered. As though it had heard him, the deer turned and disappeared.
The road was bending sharply to the right. Packy picked up speed again but more cautiously. Suppose the tree was being guarded? What then?
“So, Packy, I wanna know what’s going on,” Jo-Jo said impatiently.
Jo-Jo and Benny had a right to know what they were up against, Packy admitted to himself. “You two were in on the shipping scam up to your necks. The difference is that you got away with big bucks and got to spend the last twelve years in Brazil while I shared a cell with a whacko.”
“We only got ten million,” Benny corrected, sounding injured. “You held on to at least seventy million.”
“It didn’t do me any good when I was in jail. The whole time the lamebrains were giving us money to invest I was buying diamonds, unset stones, some of them worth two million each.”
“Why didn’t you ask us to mind them while you were in jail?” Benny asked.
“Because I’d still be waiting on Madison Avenue for you to pick me up.”
“That’s not nice,” Benny said, shaking his head. “So I guess the diamonds are in your tree somewhere, huh? Good thing Milo mentioned the tree’s going to be cut down tomorrow morning. To think we could have been a day late and a dollar short.”
“You’re not helping matters, Benny,” Jo-Jo interrupted his brother. “Now, Packy, why did you pick this tree way up here in Vermont? You know, Jersey has a lot of nice trees, and it’s much closer to the City.”
“I used to work for the people who owned this property!” Packy snapped at them. “When I was sixteen, my dear old Ma got the court to send me up here on some kind of ‘save-the-troubled-kid’ experiment.”
“What kind of job did you have up here?” Jo-Jo asked.
“Cutting down trees, mostly for the Christmas market. I was pretty good at it. I even
From the backseat Benny leaned forward. He stuck his head between Packy and Jo-Jo. “What’s so special about getting your hands on that tree?” he asked. “Are you supposed to make a wish or something?”
It was pitch dark. The van was the only vehicle on the quiet country road. Packy, Jo-Jo, and Benny were on their way to case the situation on the Pickens property. As Packy had exclaimed bitterly, “For all we know the Rockefeller Center people left a guard overnight watching the tree. Before we go lumbering over there in the flatbed, we gotta see what’s going on.”
“Benny, figure it out,” Jo-Jo snarled. “Packy must’ve hid something in the tree and is worried he won’t be able to get it out. It has to be our money stuck in there, Packy. Right?”
“Bingo,” Packy snapped. “You should apply to be a member of the Mensa Society. You’d be a shoo-in.”
“What’s the Mensa Society?” Benny asked.
“It’s a kind of club. You take a test. If you pass, you get to go to meetings with other people who passed, and you congratulate one another on how smart you all are. One of them was in my cell block. He was so smart that when he passed a note to the bank teller to fork over money, he wrote it on his own deposit slip.”
Packy knew he was ranting as though he was out of his mind. Sometimes it was like that when he got rattled. Get your cool back, he told himself. Breathe deep. Think beautiful thoughts. He thought about money.
Outside the temperature was dropping. He could feel the slight slip of the tires as the van hit a patch of ice.
“So answer me, Packy,” Jo-Jo insisted. “Our money’s in that tree. You were in the can over twelve years. So why didn’t you stash it in a numbered account in Switzerland or in a safe deposit box? What turned you into a squirrel?”
Packy could not prevent his voice from becoming shrill. “Let me explain. And listen real good so I don’t have to repeat ’cause we’re almost there.” He floored the brake as he spotted a deer emerging from the bushes at the side of the road. “Get lost, Bambi,” he muttered. As though it had heard him, the deer turned and disappeared.
The road was bending sharply to the right. Packy picked up speed again but more cautiously. Suppose the tree was being guarded? What then?
“So, Packy, I wanna know what’s going on,” Jo-Jo said impatiently.
Jo-Jo and Benny had a right to know what they were up against, Packy admitted to himself. “You two were in on the shipping scam up to your necks. The difference is that you got away with big bucks and got to spend the last twelve years in Brazil while I shared a cell with a whacko.”
“We only got ten million,” Benny corrected, sounding injured. “You held on to at least seventy million.”
“It didn’t do me any good when I was in jail. The whole time the lamebrains were giving us money to invest I was buying diamonds, unset stones, some of them worth two million each.”
“Why didn’t you ask us to mind them while you were in jail?” Benny asked.
“Because I’d still be waiting on Madison Avenue for you to pick me up.”
“That’s not nice,” Benny said, shaking his head. “So I guess the diamonds are in your tree somewhere, huh? Good thing Milo mentioned the tree’s going to be cut down tomorrow morning. To think we could have been a day late and a dollar short.”
“You’re not helping matters, Benny,” Jo-Jo interrupted his brother. “Now, Packy, why did you pick this tree way up here in Vermont? You know, Jersey has a lot of nice trees, and it’s much closer to the City.”
“I used to work for the people who owned this property!” Packy snapped at them. “When I was sixteen, my dear old Ma got the court to send me up here on some kind of ‘save-the-troubled-kid’ experiment.”
“What kind of job did you have up here?” Jo-Jo asked.
“Cutting down trees, mostly for the Christmas market. I was pretty good at it. I even
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