"Fine with me," she said.

He looked at me.

"Go right ahead," I said.

"Okay. Anyway, thousands of volunteers poured into the city. And nobody asked questions. From what Johnny told me, you pitched in, nobody cared who you were or where you came from. So he's rowing through the west end, saving people off of rooftops. The water's up to the second story in most places – I've seen pictures of this – as high as traffic lights. Damnedest thing you've ever seen. Johnny made this boat out of four barrels and some crates and he's paddling right down the middle of the street. He had the time of his life. He even stuck around afterwards and helped with the cleanup, which is how he dreamed up this heist.

"Lot of buildings collapsed. I mean, the whole downtown was underwater for weeks on end, and when the river receded they put crews in there repairing anything that got broke. Johnny was smart. He knew all kinds of things. He told them he'd done construction, so they put him to work. Anyway, while he's crawling around this basement one day, he realizes he's looking at the underside of a bank. Electrical power's been out for days, so a lot of storm sewers have broken and all this water's flowing past the foundation. There's this crack up the wall that he's supposed to fix. He puts together this patch job wouldn't fool a pro, but there's no one around. Everybody's too busy to pay attention to him. So he tells 'em it's fixed when he hasn't done a thing except cover it up.

He even signs off the inspection with forged signatures. I mean, it's not like there was anyone to double-check his work.

"By the time the two of us meet up… this is now four years later. Back then, big vaults were poured in place, using number five rebar, which is five-eighths diameter, four inches on center, several layers offset. Understand, it's not like I'm the expert. I learned all of this from him. This particular vault was constructed during the Depression – some kind of public works project – so you can imagine how well it was put together in the first place. Vault like that, you can force entry if you got the tools and the time. He said it had always been at the back of his mind, but he knew he needed help once it came time, which is where I come in.

"Johnny starts working on the foundation with this masonry bit. Nights and weekends, he goes in through the basement of the building next door and attacks the substructure. It probably takes him a month, but he's finally right up against the floor of the vault. Nowadays, this shit is all done with high-tech equipment, but in the old days, a successful bank job was the result of pure grit and hard work. It took patience and skill. Johnny figured the alarm system was tougher than the vault. At that point, we had to bring in some other guys because we needed the help. Johnny'd apprenticed with a locksmith, so he'd studied all the manuals and knew the specs by heart, but we needed an alarm man to dismantle the alarms. I'd been in jail with a guy I thought we could trust. That was Donnie Hays, and he brought in his brother, Gilbert. Like she said, Donnie's dead now and Gilbert I got to thank for this." He held up his bruised and bandaged hand.

I saw Laura's focus shift, and she exchanged a look with me. It apparently hadn't occurred to her before that Gilbert had done the damage to Ray Rawson's face.

"Johnny pulled in another couple of guys named McDermid. I think they were cousins he'd done some time with down in Lexington. Donnie Hays defeated the alarm, and we went to work with the torches and the sledgehammers, pounding away like crazy until we finally busted through. Johnny started drilling safe-deposit boxes while the rest of us set to work, cleaning out the loot while he popped the boxes and dumped the contents."

"Wait a minute. Who's Farley? How does he fit into this?" I asked.

"Gilbert's nephew," Laura replied. "The three of us came out to the coast together."

"Oh. Sorry to interrupt. Go ahead."

"Anyway, we had us a regular bucket brigade, tossing cash and jewelry out of safe-deposit boxes, stuffing the goodies into canvas bags, then hand over hand down through the hole and out to the car waiting in the alley. We're working like dogs and everything seems to be going as planned until suddenly the cops show up and all hell breaks loose. This gun battle breaks out, in the course of which Frank McDermid and Donnie Hays were both killed, along with this cop. I was hot-blooded in those days, and I fired the shot that killed the cop. Gilbert was captured and so was Darrell McDermid. I heard later Darrell died in some accident, but I never had that confirmed."

"You and Johnny weren't captured?" I asked.