這是必須要干的，我告訴威爾遜我們不顧一切都要去干。在約定的日期，他將佩戈蘭（Perlango）帶到我的公寓，這是第一次我允許佩戈蘭（ Perlango）知道我住在哪。佩戈蘭打算7點(diǎn)鐘將車停在后街，穿過小巷過來。

我們完全按照計(jì)劃通過屋頂進(jìn)入（銀行）。清晨，我們讓佩戈蘭（ Perlango）進(jìn)來。站在窗戶旁，透過百葉窗我可以清楚地看到守衛(wèi)走過來。他依然很警覺，在打開防風(fēng)門前向兩邊看了看。隨后把門鎖上。他打開那個(gè)大銅門，走進(jìn)來，我在那坐在經(jīng)理的桌子前。他露出極度恐慌的眼神，我以為他要心臟病發(fā)作了。"我認(rèn)識(shí)你，"當(dāng)他最終說得出話的時(shí)候，他說。"你打劫過我。"

"是的，"我說。"我回來拿回上次我在這沒有得到的。"這時(shí)，我繳下了他的另一把手槍。

嗯，經(jīng)理甚至比以往更加遲到。在他進(jìn)來之前可能就到8:50了。這時(shí)候，已經(jīng)有一群儲(chǔ)戶集聚在防風(fēng)門外面。大多數(shù)是牛奶工，我被告知今天是這個(gè)月的第十五天，是收款的日子。他們站在銀行門外準(zhǔn)備將他們的收入存起來。

在10分鐘內(nèi)搶完銀行這種事，你沒有辦法做到盡善盡美。我們離開的時(shí)候，人群已經(jīng)增長(zhǎng)到難以置信的地步，人們變得不耐煩甚至難以控制了。"還有幾分鐘就好了，伙計(jì)們，"我宣稱。"我們會(huì)向你們解釋，由于無法避免的延誤，我們今天會(huì)晚一些開門。管理層就給你們?cè)斐傻牟槐惚磉_(dá)歉意。"然后我們?nèi)齻€(gè)人穿過擁擠的人群，又沿著同一條小巷回到車上。這是一次非常失望的收獲。只有10，980美元。

我計(jì)劃天氣涼下來后，帶奧爾加（Olga）去布拉多克（Braddock），現(xiàn)在佩蘭戈（ Perlango）知道我住在哪里了，我要在離開前找到一個(gè)新的公寓。"我只是不像你那樣信任他而已，"我告訴威爾遜。

這也是威爾遜告訴我的，他也在準(zhǔn)備更換公寓。還是去布洛斯（Broads）。他給我這樣解釋，我們的一個(gè)名叫弗蘭克·卡帕帕諾（ Frank Capapano）的朋友（布魯克林的假釋犯）給他介紹了兩個(gè)姐妹。艾迪和年輕的妹妹約會(huì)了一段時(shí)間，然后又開始和姐姐約會(huì)。年輕的妹妹吃醋了，不知道是不是她，他總覺得被跟蹤了。為了安全起見，當(dāng)他回來的時(shí)候，打算將小車放到私人車庫里，然后搬到一個(gè)新地方，重新注冊(cè)汽車，這樣就有一個(gè)不同的車牌。他是如此坐立不安，要求我呆在費(fèi)城，直到他告訴我解決這些事情，這影響了我的計(jì)劃。

他保證只會(huì)花上幾天時(shí)間，最多一周。嗯，已經(jīng)超過一周了，隨著時(shí)間流逝，我開始有種被這些事情困住的感覺。在空氣中有種緊張的氣氛。我一直有這種預(yù)感，如果我按照預(yù)感行事的話，我的日子本來可以更好一些。電話來了，但不是艾迪威爾遜，是約翰尼費(fèi)恩斯坦（Johnny Feinstein）。"威廉，"他說。"我知道你今天要離開城鎮(zhèn)。"

意思是如此毫不含糊，我只能說一個(gè)字。"是。"
他說:"馬上，不要拖延。"
不能拖延，我立刻掛斷電話告訴奧爾加我要離開。"這是緊急事件，"我說。"我會(huì)在今天結(jié)束前打電話給你，告訴你我會(huì)在哪里見你。"

就目前而言，我要輕裝簡(jiǎn)行，我自己和一些換洗內(nèi)衣和一袋錢。錢袋子在我們臥室一個(gè)大彩色行李箱底部夾層中。當(dāng)我跪著膝蓋靠在行李箱上的時(shí)候，我的腦袋被重重一擊，差點(diǎn)暈過去。我倒在地板上時(shí)發(fā)現(xiàn)這世上所有的警察都在我頭頂上。

從新新（監(jiān)獄）逃出來14個(gè)月后，我又回到了法律的掌控中。

威爾遜做的很好，和布洛斯（Broads）沒有什么關(guān)系。這和佩蘭戈有關(guān)。一直以來威爾遜不斷向我保證，除非我要他做事，從來不聯(lián)系佩蘭戈。我不知道的是他們一直在紐約有規(guī)律的進(jìn)行社交活動(dòng)，佩蘭戈和他妻子；威爾遜和麗塔（rita）。這種事情又發(fā)生了一次。

盡管佩蘭戈和我們一起賺了這么多錢，他還是繼續(xù)住在東部的貧民窟，在那里他的新車和昂貴的衣服不可避免的引起了警察的注意。因此他的電話被安裝了非法竊聽器。那天早上，威爾遜接上佩蘭戈去拿他的新車牌，麗塔和他在一起。

他沒有按照預(yù)想的計(jì)劃去布魯克林的汽車管理局，而是決定為了安全起見，去了溫切斯特。

原文
159-160頁

Well, it had to happen. I told Wilson we were going after it regardless, and on the appointed date he brought Perlango over to my apartment, the first time I had ever permitted Perlango to know where I was living. Perlango was to park the car on the rear street at seven o’clock and come around through the alley.

We got in through the roof, exactly as planned. In the morning we let Perlango in. Standing alongside the window, I can actually see the guard through the blinds as he approaches. He’s still being very alert, looking both ways before he opens the storm door. Locking it behind him. He opens the big bronze doors, steps in, and there I am, sitting at the manager’s desk. The way his eyes bugged out, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. “I know you,” he said, when he was finally able to speak. “You held me up.”

“That’s right,” I said. “I came back to get what I didn’t get the last time I was here.” For the time being, I took another pistol from him.

Well, the manager was even later than usual. It might have been eight-fifty before he came in. By that time, there were already a bunch of depositors gathered outside the storm door. Milkmen, mostly. It was the fifteenth of the month, I was told, collection day. They were stopping off at the bank to deposit their receipts.

You can’t do a conscientious job of robbing a bank in anything like ten minutes. By the time we were leaving, the crowd had not only grown to alarming proportions, it was getting impatient and even unruly. “Just another couple of minutes, folks,” I announced. “Due to an unavoidable delay that will be explained to you, we’re a little behind time today. The management wants to convey its apologies for any inconvenience.” And then the three of us passed through the crowd and went up the same alley again to the car. It was a very disappointing haul. Only $10,980.

I had planned to go to Braddock with Olga until the heat died down, and now that Perlango knew where I lived I was going to move into a new apartment before we left. “I just don’t trust this guy the way you do,” I told Wilson.

That was where Wilson told me that he was going to have to change his apartment, too. Broads again. The way he explained it to me, a friend of ours named Frank Capapano (a parolee from Brooklyn) had introduced him to two sisters. Eddie had dated the younger one for a while, and then he started going out with the older one. The younger one had got jealous and whether it was because of her or not, he kept getting the feeling he was being tailed. Just to be safe, he was going to put the car in a private garage when he got back, move into a new place, and then reregister the car so that it would have different plates. All of which affected my plans only because he was so jumpy that he wanted me to stay in Philadelphia until he could call and tell me everything was all right.

A few days was all it would take, he promised. A week at the most. Well, it was more than a week and as the time passed I began to have the kind of feeling I get on these things. A kind of uneasy tremor in the air. I always had these hunches, and if I had always acted on them I’d have been a lot better off. The call, when it came, didn’t come from Eddie Wilson. It came from Johnny Feinstein. “Willie,” he said. “I know you’re leaving town today.”

The meaning was so unmistakable that I only had to say one word. “Yes.”
He said: “Immediately. Without delay.”
Without delay, I hung up and told Olga I was leaving. “It’s an emergency,” I said. “I’ll call you up before the day is over and let you know where I’m going to meet you.”

For the time being, I was going to be traveling very light. Just me and a change of underclothing and a bag of money. The money bag was in the false bottom of a big steamer trunk we had in the bedroom. While I was down on my knees leaning over the trunk, I got a blow on my head that almost knocked me unconscious. The next thing I knew I was down on the floor with all the cops in the world on top of me.

Fourteen months after my escape from Sing Sing I was back in the hands of the law.

Wilson had been made all right, and it had nothing to do with broads. It had to do with Perlango. What I didn’t know—here we go again—was that all the time that Wilson kept assuring me that he never contacted Perlango except when I wanted him for a job, they had been socializing on a regular basis in New York. Perlango and his wife; Wilson and Rita.

Despite all the money Perlango had been making with us, he had continued to live in the East Side slums, where his new car and expensive clothing had inevitably brought him to the attention of the police. So much so that an illegal tap had been placed on his phone. That morning, Wilson had picked Perlango up on his way to get his new license plates. Rita was with him.

Instead of going to the motor-vehicle bureau in Brooklyn, as he had intended to, he decided at the last minute to play it even safer and go all the way up to Westchester.