"So what if he did? Everybody asks things like that early on."

"Well, doesn't it strike you as odd? Here, just 'coincidentally,' it turns out the two of us pulled a job together forty-some-odd years back?"

"Not really. Gilbert knew Paul from work… he's my stepdad," she said in an aside to me. "I guess Paul must have mentioned the name 'Rawson' in some context."

"Oh, yeah, right," Ray said with acid. "Like your stepfather sits around and bullshits about me with the guys at work."

"What difference does it make?" Laura said. "Somehow it came up. Maybe it was karma."

Ray's expression was impatient – he didn't buy that for a minute – but he made that rolling hand gesture that said "Let's get on with it."

"I'm not going to keep talking if you act like that. Ray," she said primly. "You asked for my side and that's what I'm trying to tell you, okay?"

"Okay. You're right. I'm sorry. But let me ask you this…"

"I'm not saying I know all the details," she interjected.

"I understand that. I'm just asking about the logic. Listen, in the gospel according to Gilbert – if what he says is true – then how come I spent forty years in prison? If I blew the whistle, I'd have made a deal. I never would have served a day. Or I'd have pled down and done county jail time just to make it look good."

Laura was silent, and I could see her struggling to come up with an explanation that made sense. "I don't really know. He never went into that."

"Well, think about it."

"I know Gilbert never served much time," she said tentatively.

"Yeah, but he was seventeen. He was still a juvenile and this was his first offense. Johnny always figured it was the younger McDermid, Darrell. Frank was too much of a stand-up guy. Darrell was the one who testified against us in court and ended up doing less than a year himself. You want to know why? Because he turned us in and in exchange they let him plead down to some lesser charge. Gilbert wants to blame me because the little fuck is greedy and wants to justify picking off all the loot for himself. By the way, you haven't said, are you two married?"

"We live together."

"You live together. That's nice. A year, couple years?"

"About that," she said.

"Don't you have any idea what he's like?"

Laura said nothing. Judging from the bruises, she knew plenty about Gilbert. "I don't believe he lied. You're the liar."

"Why don't you reserve judgment until you hear my side of it?"

I held a hand up. "Uh, Ray? Am I going to be surprised by what comes next? Is this going to be like big news and piss me off?"

His smile was sheepish. "Why?"

"Because I'm just wondering how many versions of the story you tell. This is number three, by my count."

"This is it. Last one. Swear to God."

I glanced at Laura. "The man does lie through his teeth, or what's left of them."

"I haven't lied," he said. "I might have failed to mention a couple things."

"A shoot-out with the cops? What else have you failed to mention? I'd be fascinated," I said.

"I can do without the sarcasm."

"I can do without the bullshit! You said Gilbert was a former cellmate."

"I had to tell you something," he said. "Come on. This is not easy. I kept my mouth shut forty years. Johnny Lee and I swore we'd never give anything away. The problem is, he died without giving me some vital information."

"I'm going to get comfortable," I said. I leaned over and pulled the pillows out from under the bedspread and propped them up against the headboard, kicking my shoes off before I settled into place. This was like a bedtime story, and I didn't want to miss it.

"You comfy?" he said.

"I'm terrific."

"Johnny dreamed up this scheme and talked me into going in with him. You have to understand a little background on this. I hope you don't mind."

"If you're going to tell the truth for a change, take your time," I said.

Ray got to his feet and began to pace. "I'm trying to think how far back to go. Let's try this. Ohio River flooded in the winter of 1937. I guess it started raining sometime in January and the river just kept going up. Eventually, there was something like twelve thousand acres underwater all up and down the Ohio River valley. At the time, Johnny was in state reformatory down in Lexington. Well, the inmates began to riot. Sixty of them busted out of there, and Johnny Lee was one. He gets as far as Louisville and disappears in the confusion. He starts helping with flood relief." He paused, looking from Laura to me. "Just be patient," he said. "Because you have to understand how this scheme was set up in the first place."