It just seemed natural after that for the two men to see more in, and of, each other. Whenever the weather was fine Frank left home early and walked the twenty blocks or so that separated their homes, and then rode in to work with Tom, and sometimes he would linger awhile after work, talking to Leila or sharing a cold beer with them before setting out on foot for the sullen solemnity that awaited him at home. The hours of work slid by more quickly now, hours of tedium that Frank used to dread were now transformed into periods of animated discourse, leisure hours, flying along as the two men cemented a partnership which was to become life-long. Even when they were apart Frank often found himself in silent conversation with his new friends, and made mental notes of subjects or events he wanted to discuss when they saw one another again, or of something he wanted to add to some previous discussion.

Frank even began to read, at Tom's suggestion, who exhorted him that most people could have the equivalent of an arts degree if only they would spend some of the time reading that they now spend watching television. Beginning slowly at first, Frank borrowed a book from the library that Tom had recommended highly, but he found it tough going. After reading a few pages in the evening he began to yawn and soon found himself preparing to turn in. Noise from the other room annoyed him, and he found he was often interrupted by household activities and outside thoughts. Reading put him to sleep so readily that he began to take the book to bed with him so he could simply put it down and turn out the light. When Tom asked him after several days how he was enjoying the story he had to admit he was a slow reader. Although he found the story interesting and easy to understand he simply could not stay awake through more than a chapter at most. Tom was sympathetic, but mystified, and the next day his first words to Frank were, "Leila says you probably need glasses."

"What? I can see perfectly."

"Maybe, but she says you need glasses for reading. You're working so hard to focus on the print it's exhausting you. Why don't you try some? Get a pair at the drug store, and if they don't work, take them back!"

"Good idea. We'll look after that today."

Next morning Frank arrived triumphant. He had not only read for two and a half hours the night before but he was so completely wrapped up in the story that he couldn't wait to get back into it that night. The two spent part of their spare time that day discussing what Frank had discovered so far about the book, and Tom pointed out several aspects of the writer's skill and technique that had interested him. And so, as in many things, Frank began to see literature through Tom's experience, to gain second-hand from his ability and university training. He knew he was beginning to identify strongly with the younger man but he could see nothing but benefits from their association, and Frank's life was more full and interesting than it had been for many years.

Meanwhile Diane was also aware a change had come over her husband. Her relationship with Frank had always been cool and somewhat distant, but he had always been punctual and dependable. Now he was often late arriving home from work, and without very good reasons. On his days off he had begun traipsing through the woods on a nature trail he had discovered, and though she had once accompanied him on one of these hikes she wasn't convinced that he was always there when he said he was. He went regardless of the weather, for example, and although he took along a slicker and rain hat she remained unconvinced. And these people he was running with! They looked like hippies to her, at least from what she had seen of them that morning when he went with them in that old truck, and then later that night when they dropped him off.

He had begun to take less interest in her, and in the house as well. At one time he would have pitched in and helped out more if she got a little behind, but now he ignored the unmade bed, the dishes stacked in the sink. He took his book into the bedroom and read instead. At first she had thought it was simply Rodger's absence that had brought about the change, but she now suspected there was something else, and it's onset had coincided with his interest in this new partner; Tom McDermott. Diane wished she knew some of the other guards' wives better, she would like to know more about these people. This new independence of Frank's worried her, she was far too reliant upon him for everything, and his attitude now made her wonder if he weren't having an affair. One time she had straightened out and cleaned the entire house, and he hadn't made his customary fuss over her efforts; and now when she hinted to him about sex he wasn't as instantly attentive as he usually was after their long periods of abstinence. In the past when Frank had become disillusioned with their relationship, there had always been that one fail-safe to bring him around. Now it appeared she had lost the ability to coerce, control and manipulate him in that way. With Rodger gone, she could feel the distance between them increasing as he grew progressively more attached to his new friends.

Frank, on the other hand, continued pretty much unaware of the change he had wrought in Diane's peace of mind. After all, he had never caused her any concern; never been unfaithful in any way, nor contemplated it even, so it never occured to him that she might suspect him of it. He was neither a drinker nor a gambler, had always brought home all of his paycheque, and his little interests; his nature walks, his reading, and now his new friendship with a man from work could in no way seriously threaten Diane's cocoon-like existence. He was of course aware that next to Leila McDermott, despite her pretty features Diane appeared a sour and lifeless shadow, but he wasn't aware his change of heart was readily noticeable. Moreover, having never had reason to be suspicious of Diane, and not being of a suspicious nature himself, he was unaware how closely he was being observed without his knowledge. The contents of his wallet, pockets, automobile ashtray and car interior were scrutinized daily, close inspections of his clothing and boots were made to glean tiny observations about his whereabouts whenever he was absent from the house. A suspicious mind, like a guilty one, is therefore trained in deception, and in this regard Frank had very little training indeed.

Then one day something happened, out of the blue, that made Frank conscious of a new image of himself. He hadn't been brooding over his life with Diane, but during a conversation with Tom he experienced one of those involuntary, unexpected epiphanies that in retrospect revealed he had some strong regrets. He and Tom had purchased a lottery ticket together, and Tom was telling him how he would spend his share of the winnings. He wished for very little really, he and Leila were happy and their needs and tastes were simple, so that he could think of nothing he wanted more than to maintain his present lifestyle without working for it. The idea effected Frank somehow, poingnantly, bringing home to him the inadequacy of his own situation, and he quietly lamented, "If I win the lottery I'm going to buy a new life!"

Tom said nothing in reply but gazed steadily at him so that he felt obliged to explain.

"I mean, now that Rodger has left home there's only Diane and me left, and my future looks something like this. I work another twenty-five years or so at this job and then I get to retire and stay home with her full-time, right? That doesn't look so inviting, Tom. The divorce option looks even less appealing. She refuses to get a job, pleads inability or whatever, so I pay everything I earn to her and live in a rooming house somewhere without a penny in my pocket. If I win the lottery I'll pay her off, and then I can kiss her, this job, and this valley good-bye forever. I'll start over completely, somewhere else. There's nothing to hold me here now; only my parents, and they have enough kids they don't really need me. If we win tonight, man, I'm gone!"

Tom grinned. "Jesus, Frank. What if we don't win?" he asked in mock concern. "Lotteries aren't very reliable you know. I think you need something a little more in the way of a plan to get out of your situation." Then seeing Frank wasn't lightening up as expected he suggested, "Like knock off one of these maybe." He spread his arms to indicate the armoured chamber and the bags of money that surrounded them.

Frank was in no mood for humour. He remained serious and replied soberly, "That's not a bad idea either, and I know exactly how I'd go about it."

The statement dropped into the confined space like a stone. Tom said nothing, and after a moment of watching his friend closely he dropped his gaze to his lap and began unrolling and then re-rolling his shirt sleeves. Frank finally cleared his throat as though to speak, but then rose and stepped to the rear door, where he leaned on one shoulder and stared out the window for a long time. The silence continued until both men began to feel uneasy. Finally they both spoke at once, causing them to laugh at one another.

"You know Frank, that's pretty funny, you planning something like that. I mean, I think about it all the time, but you - you're kind of an unlikely armoured car robber."

"I guess I've just had a lot of time to think about it. Besides, you can't help but be constantly considering possibilities in this trade, it's what helps to keep you careful. That's why case studies are part of your training when you come on this job, and why they form an important part of our um … 'worklore' or whatever. You ever notice when there's a bank robbery or an armed robbery of any kind, how the guys all discuss it to death in the lunch room? We identify with guards all over this continent; and their experiences and mistakes help to train us, and tighten up our security measures."

"Yeah, I've noticed also how we use American statistics whenever we're talking about how dangerous this job is. Hell, Canada's pretty tame compared to the U.S. when it comes to crime statistics."

"True enough, but the point is we learn from them. And that's how we know what works and what doesn't. So what do we know Tom? We know for example that many thefts from armoured cars are inside jobs in some way. Sometimes the thieves make no pretense about that, they just turn up a back alley or an old road, unload the money into a car and run away with it. Trouble is, I don't know if I'm adventurous enough to run half-way around the world to live out my life in permanent exile. Besides, the probability of getting three guys on one route who are crazy enough to do it is slim. Can you imagine us talking François into something like that? He's got six more months to go and then he and Gabrielle are moving to the lake to live. So that's out."

"Another way would be to arrange to have someone rob the truck, by telling them exactly how, when and where. Or maybe, just give them the money and pretend a robbery took place. Both bad ideas. One's dangerous, you never know what can go wrong and somebody could get shot. Besides, you're throwing in with people who are known to the police and to the so-called underworld as well. And, of course, one of the first things they do after you get robbed is give you a polygraph test, so both those ideas are out too. I mean, so what if they can't prove you were in on it, if they know, you can't ever spend the money, so what would be the point? The idea is to avoid suspicion entirely, and what's more important, to do it in such a way that nobody gets hurt. I don't think I could ever be desperate enough to risk killing someone for money, Tom."

Frank paused for a moment, looking reflective, and then sat down in his usual position facing Tom. "I've thought up a number of ways, over the years, that I thought might work, but they all involve actually robbing an armoured car, not pretending to rob my own. But think of the risks involved. Even, let's say if you got a messenger and his guard away from their truck, in a large shopping mall, or maybe in an elevator; they're going to be jumpy to begin with, since those are prime target areas, and often when these robberies take place the guards aren't given a chance to give up the money, they're simply gunned down. Then, to complicate things, you could be dealing with a couple of turkeys like Chenier and Kowalski, who are prepared to kill somebody to be employee of the month. I've often suspected that those bonuses they pay out are larger if you kill the perpetrator than if you merely wound him."

"Could be Frank, after all it makes things a lot less messy, from a legal standpoint that is."

Frank paused to consider this. "Anyway, it's too risky. The secret as I see it is to have them trapped inside the truck where they're not likely to hurt anyone, and convince them to throw the money out. And at the same time, prevent them from radioing in the alarm. What do you think of that?"

Tom looked skeptical. "Can you really do this, Frank?"

"Yes, I think so. I haven't worked out the fine details yet, but I have a plan that would work. No risk, no guns, nobody gets hurt; but above all I could not only get away with it, but I would be beyond suspicion. That's important, otherwise you never get to enjoy the money."

"Well you wouldn't want to be obvious about having the money. Isn't that how a lot of otherwise successful thieves get caught?"

"Sure, even if you were successful, you would have to be very patient, continue your life as always and make no changes, or make them appear gradual and due to other circumstances. For example, in my case the object would be to change jobs, and my mate if possible. So I wait until you go back to university this fall, then François retires, and I become despondent, grow less dependable, and maybe even break some of their security regulations, quarrel with some of the Rat Patrol, maybe even Wells himself. See what I mean?… Do the same thing at home, gradually lose interest, become an undesirable mate in some ways so that Diane actually wants a separation, that way she's not likely to be so demanding when it comes to a settlement. The point is to make it all appear natural, a consequence of Rodger leaving home, losing my job and so on; I mean this happens all the time. The kids leave home and first thing you know the parents are separated. There's just no reason to put up with one another any longer.

So the game plan would be to get slowly and carefully unencumbered and generally down-and-out enough that no-one will mind when I move away somewhere else, or be too interested in me when I get there. I don't want much anyway, just a fresh start with a few dollars in my pocket. I figure Diane will end up in another relationship quickly enough; she's pretty to look at and not too bright. That's a combination some men can't resist. I know I couldn't", he added morosely.

"Frank? You know, maybe it's not a bad plan, even if you don't rob a bank or anything. For the most part this game plan of yours doesn't require money, just determination. I mean, let's see if I've got the right. You're going to rob an armoured car, in order to live poorer than you do now. Seems to me you could leave out the robbery and still be poor, if that's what you want."

"It's a question of how poor I'm prepared to be, Tom. I'm just getting by now, and I'm going to work every day to a job I don't like. If I get away, let's say to British Columbia, … or maybe Washington or Oregon, I want to work outdoors, at something peaceful. Maybe I'd need to retrain for it, and that costs money. Or maybe I'd have to work at something that pays even less than this. I'd need a subsidy of some kind. Besides Tom, when you're really poor, irritating things happen, like when you have no money for gas, or for bus fare even, or when you run out of groceries before pay-day. No, I'd rather have some money stashed somewhere, just for emergencies."

"Even so, Frank, your plan requires an awful lot of patience."

"You think another twenty-five years of this job, and then retirement with Diane isn't going to require patience?" he roared, incredulous. He added bitterly, "To me it would be just like the guy tunnelling his way out of the dungeon, he has all the time in the world."

By this time Tom was laughing whole-heartedly while Frank permitted himself a wry smile. When Tom could speak properly again he returned the conversation to the point where Frank had said he would try to look very down-and-out in case he should end up in divorce court.

"You know Frank, how when guys who are charged with crimes clean themselves all up for court, so you wouldn't hardly know them? Well, you could do the opposite, buy a second-hand suit too small, and be about a month late for a haircut, that sort of thing. I can just picture you now, up in front of the judge, looking seedy and down on your luck, while you secretly hoard a bag of money somewhere."

Both men laughed once more.

"That's why I like you Tom, you get on my wave length and ride right along with me, even when I'm being crazy." He paused for a moment. "Leila does that too!"

Next morning was their out-of-town run. When they had settled themselves comfortably for the half-hour drive to the coffee shop, Tom brought up the subject of Frank's robbery once again.

"Okay Frank, I know we got busy yesterday afternoon, but you never did tell me how you planned to knock off one of these things. I wondered about that all last evening. What is the plan?"

"Do you remember, back about a year ago, there was a robbery in Quebec where a van pulled in front of an armoured car and opened the back doors to reveal an anti-aircraft gun?"

"Sure, they got the idea from a t.v. show the week before."

"That's the one. Well, we now know that an anti-aircraft gun can't be fired from inside a van, but it was enough to intimidate those guards, to say the least. My idea is a variation on that, something original, I intend to use a bomb."

Tom's jaw dropped. "Wait a minute. Yesterday you didn't intend to involve guns; too dangerous, but today you want to use a bomb?"

Frank laughed. "It doesn't have to be a real bomb, just convincing enough to frighten the living shit out of whoever is driving that truck; say a couple of phoney dynamite sticks and a little radio with an antenna, taped together, with maybe some wires. Something like that. That has the added bonus of convincing them not to use the radio transmitter."

There was a long silent pause as Tom mulled this over. Finally, he broke the quiet. "Where would you propose to do this Frank, right here in town? A lot could go wrong, you know."

"That's another key element. The setting has to be rural. There wouldn't be as much money to take, but after all we don't want a lot. Nothing spectacular," Frank grinned.

"We, Frank? Up until now we haven't been talking about any we. This is entirely your project." His chest heaved as he chuckled around the words. Frank was laughing also.

"Okay, theoretically then … um, 'hypothetically' as you always say, what do you think?"

"Not bad … not bad. I like the non-violent aspect of it. I think it would work." There followed another long period of silence punctuated once when Tom mused quietly, "Yep, it would work."