And now Emmy had set it up for him. He would go over to her place first thing and secure his hiding place in the walk-in closet in her bedroom. Her clothes would hide him from direct view, and he didn’t think Sammy would carry out much of a search. Even if he did, it would be too bad. He would die quicker. What he couldn’t do, would be to violate Emmy in any way until he had the money. Gain her trust; reinforce the impression that he wouldn’t harm her. That would come later. He felt like a god. He could choose when the butterfly could live and when the butterfly would die. Or he might even let her live, become his plaything, maybe be a partner of sorts. He fought down his rising excitement, it would have to wait.
His thoughts moved away to the Fairview tanker site. His initial inspection there indicated that they looked to be using standard Seneca tank trucks, all the same model. Should be no problem, but he would thoroughly check the tanker out at the barn. Couldn’t risk a flat or a malfunction. And another precaution until Saturday when he would return to the stadium with the tanker, he would only use the barn and Emmy’s apartment as his base. If anyone was closing in on him, he wouldn’t be around. Time for a side-stepping subterfuge. He called Arnie from a phone booth. “Arnie, it’s Coach Mason. I got urgent family business up near the Canadian border,” he lied. “I’m outta town right now. Tell the team I’m sure going to miss them, and best of luck for Saturday, ok?”
Arnie listened in. “Hey that’s too bad, but times move on huh? Okay, I’ll pass the message on. Will you be watching the game on TV?”
“I’ll be watching for sure. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Coach Mason replied.