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or so from the regular building line, it filled the width of the lot, one end flush against the side of a Kresge five-and-dime and the other end almost reaching the sidewalk on the cross street. The surface of the lot was crushed brick rubble, showing that some other building had also recently been torn down; the bank had probably timed its own reconstruction to the availability of a lot nearby.
    There were two entry doors along the front of the trailer, each with a heavy set of temporary wooden steps leading up to it, and the ‘Temporary Headquarters’ sign strung between them. Concrete blocks made a gray foundation wall from the ground up to the bottom edge of the blue and white metal shell, and all the letter-slot-style windows were covered on the inside by Venetian blinds. The bank was closed now, but lights could be seen through slits in the blinds.
    Dortmunder looked up as he strolled by. A thick sweep of wires connected the trailer to telephone and power poles both on the main avenue and the cross street, as though the trailer were a rectangular dirigible, moored there by all those lines.
    There was nothing more to see, and Dortmunder had reached the corner. He waited on the curb for the light again, then crossed the street and went back to the Toronado, shaking his head as he glanced at the rear of the car. He got in and said, ‘Can’t tell much from the outside. You thinking about a day operation or a night operation?’
    â€˜Night,’ Kelp said.
    â€˜They leave cash in there overnight?’
    â€˜Only on Thursdays.’ It was Victor who told him that.
    Reluctantly, Dortmunder focused on Victor. ‘How come on Thursdays?’
    â€˜Thursday night the stores are open,’ Victor said. ‘The bank closes at three, but then opens again at six and stays open till eight-thirty. At that hour of night, there’s no simple direct way to get the cash to some other bank. So they lay on more guards and keep the money in the bank overnight.’
    â€˜How many more guards?’
    â€˜A total of seven,’ Victor said.
    â€˜Seven guards.’ Dortmunder nodded. ‘What kind of safe?’
    â€˜A Mosler. I believe they have it on lease, along with the trailer. It isn’t much of a safe.’
    â€˜We can get into it fast?’
    Victor smiled. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘time really isn’t a problem.’
    Dortmunder glanced across the street. ‘Some of those wires,’ he said, ‘are alarms. I figure they’re tied into the local precinct.’
    Victor’s smile broadened. Nodding as though Dortmunder had just displayed great brilliance, he said, ‘That’s just what they are. Anything that happens in there after banking hours is recorded down at the police station.’
    â€˜Which is where?’
    Victor pointed straight ahead. ‘Seven blocks down that way.’
    â€˜But time isn’t a problem,’ Dortmunder said. ‘We’re going in against seven guards, the precinct is seven blocks away, and time isn’t a problem.’
    Kelp was grinning by now almost as widely as Victor. ‘That’s the beauty of it,’ he said. ‘That’s the stroke of genius Victor’s come up with.’
    â€˜Tell me,’ Dortmunder said.
    â€˜We steal the bank,’ Victor said.
    Dortmunder looked at him.
    Kelp said, ‘Isn’t that a beauty? We don’t break into the bank, we take the bank away with us. We back up a truck, hook onto the bank, and drive it away.’

6
    When May got home from Bohack’s, Dortmunder wasn’t there yet. She stood just inside the front door and yelled, ‘Hey!’ twice, and when there wasn’t any answer she shrugged and slopped on through the apartment to the kitchen, carrying the two shopping bags of groceries. Being an employee at the supermarket, she in the first place got a cut rate on some items and in the second place could lift other items with