by Peter Rabe
“Something about who's worried about covering bets.”
“I said for him not to butt in. It's not his place to worry about stuff he's got no notion about. Those damn foot-soldiers are getting so swell-headed around here you can't—”
“What bet was he worried about?”
“Julius! What was that bet? On the phone just now.”
“A thousand. And he said he's already had three high ones on the long shot.”
“What long shot?” Roy wanted to know.
“Button in the—I mean Buttonhead in the third.”
Roy pushed his tongue around inside one cheek; then he said, “And you're not worried about that, Pander?”
“I got time to worry about every little damn brainstorm that comes jamming up the phones?”
“He had a point, Pander.”
“Lay off me, for God's sake. We already went down on the odds to twenty.”
“Can you cover that kind of betting?”
“Can I cover? The whole setup is built to cover, you jerk.”
“Can you, Pander, if it turns out a run on one horse?”
“There's no run on one horse, just one bookie running off his mouth. Now get out of the way. I've got things to do before post time.”
“Nobody else reported this kind of thing?”
“Of course not!”
“Perhaps better tell the boss.”
“The who?”
“I mean Fell. He'll have to lay off those bets. Better let Fell—”
“The hell with Fell!” Pander left the office.
It was only the second time that Cripp had seen it happen, but he caught it and remembered the way Fell had looked watching Buttonhead. If Fell was excited it was in a strange way; as if the excitement had all turned into strength, packed tight and waiting.
Down below the grandstand they were letting the horses out, letting them trot their legs or look at the starting gate.
“I'll be glad when it's over,” said Cripp.
“Anxious?”
“Anxious to get back on the job. You haven't done a thing to...”
“I will,” said Fell. “See Buttonhead? Here, take my glasses.”
Cripp took the glasses and saw that Fell was smiling. He sat in his box with arms spread back over two chairs and one leg over the other. He didn't seem to be smiling at any one thing. He was just smiling. Then Cripp put up the field glasses to look at the horse.
“Hey,” said Fell. “Look who's coming.”
Cripp looked and saw Pander. His head was bent and the dark glasses covered much of the expression he wore, but Pander looked worried. He ran up the steps, stopped once, and turned to look at the tote board across the track. One of the favorites was dropping from three to two and there was a series of flashes when Mindy changed from twenty-three to sixteen.
“Hey, Pander,” Fell called.
Pander spun around as if somebody had insulted him, and his face didn't relax when he saw who it was.
“Come up here a minute, boy.”
Pander came up.
“Never mind that boy stuff. What do you want.”
“Nothing, Pander. I thought maybe you were looking for me.”
“Why would I—”
“Shut up a minute, boy. They're lining up.”
The loudspeaker blared, some of the hands were running back to the fence, and horses looked nervous around the gates. “Ten minutes,” said the loudspeaker.
Pander stayed by the box.
“You look like you want to be invited in,” said Fell. “Want this seat?”
Pander turned, but when he saw Fell he didn't say anything. Fell was just being friendly.
“How's the sucker money running, Pander?”
“Huh? Coming in.”
“Hope you kept tab on those odds, Pander. Big job, you know.”
“Don't you worry.”
“Shut up a minute, Pander, there's one trying the gate.”
But it wasn't. The horse had backed out again, wheeling around now with the jockey trying to straighten the horse.
“I'm just asking,” said Fell, “because I haven't been in touch. You haven't shown me a thing or asked about anything.”
Pander moved the glasses up and down his nose, looking busy.
“You know how it is. I was coming around tomorrow. I was going to—hell, you're here now and it isn't much anyways, but I was just thinking. How about laying off bets? Big race, this one, and—”
“Kind of late, isn't it?”
“Well, I just thought, maybe playing it safe wouldn't do any harm, seeing how the money came big on this race anyway.”
“You don't need me to lay off your bets, Pander, not the way you're running this, boy.”
“I don't mean that. You didn't get it what I was saying.
“You want me to take layoff money on this race. Isn't that what you said?”
“I was just checking. There are some real long shots in this one, and I figured—”
“Which one? Mindy?”
“Oh no. Hell no.”
“Five minutes, Pander.”
“Yeah. Uh, look, Fell—”
“You know, like I was saying, you don't want me to lay off any bet. First of all, you can always make good with your own pool, and second—” Fell leaned over with a confidential look—“that wouldn't look good, Pander, you coming around and askingme —you know what I mean, Pander,you asking me.”
“I'm not asking a thing, Fell. I'm just discussing—”
“Quiet now, Pander. They're lining up.” Fell turned front.
“I said—” But nobody was listening to Pander. He walked off, stiff-backed but looking right and left, waving a few times at people as if he had nothing else on his mind.
They had all the mounts behind the gates now, coaxing them in and shutting the doors behind them, one by one. The loudspeaker kept still and voices got lower.
“What if he'd asked you, Tom? What if he'd asked you straight out to take layoff money.”
Fell looked at Cripp without turning his head. “I would have told him to go to hell.”
“Can he pay up on those bets he took?”
Fell was watching the gates. The horses inside stood still. A few were tossing their heads.
“He's going to look like a horse stepped on him,” said Fell, and then there was no more talk, but a second or so of everything holding still when the bell clanked out, the gates jumped open with metallic snaps and they were off. The first scramble divided into two packs. No stragglers, just two packs and clods flying.
One favorite had dropped to no odds, the others were two to one. Something must have leaked about Mindy, who had dropped to eight. Buttonhead was 20-1, next to the highest who had stayed at 24. That one was last in line, in the slow pack with Buttonhead. Mindy already showed her promise, out front with the favorites.
First turn, the two groups had pulled apart.
“She's at the rail,” said Fell.
“I see.”
“Behind those three. They're blocking.”
Cripp just nodded.
At the middle of first turn the field stretched out— Mindy, already showing herself, with only four others ahead. The favorite pulling out front.
The last group split. Buttonhead hugged the rail and couldn't pass.
“He's cramping her style, Cripp. Look how—”
“It's only a horse, Tom.” Cripp knew he had said the wrong thing but Fell wasn't listening. He smoked and watched.
At the end of the first turn Dominic must have let her have it her way. Buttonhead left the rail. The far straightaway showed a long line, some moving up, some dropping for good.
“Look at that Mindy!”
“She'll wear herself out.”
“Look! Threw a wheel,” said Fell, and they watched the horse buckle, then roll. Mindy was ahead of the accident so she kept right at it. Buttonhead had to swing back to the rail—Buttonhead all alone behind the bunch holding the front.
<
br /> Five ahead of her.
Half mile. Four ahead of her.
“Like always,” said Fell. “Jeesus! Come on.”
The field flat by the rail now with Buttonhead taking the dirt from the next in line.
They started their turn and from the distance they looked tired.
Buttonhead was fourth now, holding the rail as she should.
At the top of the turn the favorite swung wide and got ready.
“I'm dying,” said Fell.
Mindy had heart. The favorite couldn't get back to the rail, where Mindy pulled up and stuck.
“I'm going nuts. I'm—”
The crowd made a swell of sound.
Buttonhead was a flat form at the rail, with only a forward movement. Then she slowed. Mindy was there. Mindy in the last turn showed her wind was going. The favorite got back to the rail and in front.
“I'll kill Dudley,” said Fell. “I'll kill Dudley for this,” and he stopped abruptly because it caught in his throat.
Mindy was a rail runner but Buttonhead wasn't. Buttonhead swung toward the track.
When Fell started laughing it got lost. The crowd was up.
The favorite stuck to his place and looked like a mechanical pacemaker. Buttonhead's ears were back tight. She had the middle of the track and she stayed there.
“Baby!” Fell was yelling. “Baby!”
Foreshortened in the last straightaway it looked like a treadmill.
“Baby! You've got to,got to—”
Mindy was tired and there was space between her and the pacemaker.
Buttonhead, running the center, gave a jerk with her head when Dominic turned the crop in his hand, put both reins in one hand, and reached back. Buttonhead seemed to be nodding.
The roar got worse when the perspective got normal again.
Dominic looked to the side once to watch the favorite, and he might have thought about taking the rail. Cripp thought he might and saw how Fell bit his lip. Cripp hoped it would be over soon.
Buttonhead stayed where she was, and so did the favorite. He stayed and was pacemaker.
When the man leaned out of the tower Mindy pulled up. Where she got it nobody knew but she came up, and it wasn't too late. Buttonhead was where she liked it best, in the middle of the track. The man in the tower had his arm in the air, waiting, and it was almost done. Mindy was pouring ahead, the favorite stayed by the rail, showing power. Buttonhead was flat in the middle.
Mindy the last. The favorite. Buttonhead won it.
Chapter Sixteen
The season wasn't over, so outwardly nothing changed. Fell spent time in his office and at noon he came into the coffee shop. He stood there till Pearl saw him. She left her customer and brought him a cup of coffee. “On the house,” she said, and he winked at her. Then he went back to his desk, put the coffee down, and looked for a cigarette. He didn't have any. He left the coffee there, went to his car, and drove off.
Downtown he had to crawl with the heavy traffic. He decided to walk the rest of the way and left the car in a parking lot.
Fell walked as if he didn't feel the heat, but next to the window of a department store he took off his jacket. He looked at the dummies, the clothes draped over an artificial tree, and went inside. He bought a light jacket and put it right on, and though the clerk protested Fell gave him the jacket from his suit and left without it.
The tallest building in town had four stories and Fell had space on the top. Three girls were typing and a man was working an adding machine.
“Cripp here?” said Fell.
“No, Mr. Fell, but he left a message.”
Fell took the paper and didn't look at it right away.
“Did the telephones get in?”
“Yes sir, this morning.”
“And there was one place needed a switchboard.”
“Yes sir, that was installed too.”
“Are the new bookkeepers—”
“Arrived and went to work this morning.”
“Cripp showed them around?”
“Yes sir. And he said to tell you the radio was fixed and working. I don't know what radio.”
“That's okay. I know.”
Fell opened Cripp's note and read, “They are at Pander's apartment, starting at noon.”
“About time,” said Fell and walked to the door. He stopped before going out and turned back to the girl.
“New jacket. You like it?”
“Very much, Mr. Fell.”
Cripp was waiting downstairs at the Pander address. He saw Fell coming and thought he looked good. He should. He had made a mint on that race.
“Hi,” said Fell. “How come you aren't upstairs?”
“Wouldn't let me in,” said Cripp.
“Come on,” and they went upstairs.
It was a lot like before the race, bookies milling around and noisy talk, except this time nobody paid attention to Millie, nobody laughed, and there were no drinks. When Fell knocked on the door it was suddenly quiet. Millie opened the door.
“Miss Borden?” said Fell. “Of course. How could I forget that name.” He walked in. He was feeling fine.
“What do you want?” said Pander. “This is a private meeting.”
“Can it,” said Fell. He smiled and sat down on a couch. “Is there a seat for Cripp?” he said. “Somebody get a seat for him.”
Somebody did and Pander didn't make a move.
“Now,” said Fell. “Go ahead, Pander. I just came to listen.”
Roy got off the edge of a table casually.
“Like Pander said, Tom, this is private. We got business and don't want any kibitzing, not from nobody. So you better leave. I'm trying to say it nice, but—”
“Shut up,” said Fell.
Nobody made a move.
“And don't forget it again. You're working for me.” Fell looked around the room, then at Roy, then at Pander. “And I don't just mean the two top bananas. I mean everybody.”
It was Pander's turn, but he wasn't ready. He was sucking in breath, keeping his teeth together and before he got ready Fell said, “Go on, Pander. You were saying?”
“Get out.” Nobody had ever heard Pander talk quite that low.
Fell sat still. “You think you can swing this alone?”
“I can swing you from here to—”
“You don't get it, Pander. I'm talking about your business, this good-will meeting of yours.”
“Get one thing straight, Fell. Anything I start I can finish. And anything you want to start...”
“So finish it,” said one of the bookies.
“All I want to know is who's paying the damage.”
“And the bus fare,” said a bookie. “I don't even have bus fare to skip out from under.”
“Go on, Pander.” Fell was rubbing it in. “Tell him how, Pander.”
“I'll tell them! I'll tell them straight who's causing this stink. I mean you!”
The bookies didn't get it, and Fell just laughed.
The laugh was the last straw to Pander. “Who's supposed to take layoff bets around here to keep things going? Who's supposed to see to it that—” he demanded.
“He means me,” said Fell, and grinned at the bookies.
“You're damn right I mean you. So what happens when I ask you?”
“You didn't ask me,” said Fell.
“I didn't ask you? Roy. Was I going to see Fell before the race?”
“I don't know,” said Roy. “Did you?”
“Listen, you son of a bitch. You yourself were bending my ear about this. You yourself said—”
“But you didn't want to go,” said Roy. “Then you did anyway?”
“You're damn right I did, seeing how those jerks over there kept taking in bets at screwy odds. Now don't lie, Fell. Did I see you at the track?”
“Sure.”
“Did you take layoff bets to cover losses?”
“The way you put it you were too big to need me for covering.”
&n
bsp; “Now talk straight, Fell.” Pander was enraged because Fell just sat there, smiling quietly. “Don't horse around, Fell, just talk straight.”
“Putting it straight,” said Cripp, and they all turned to him. “You didn't ask. You may have had cold feet, but you didn't ask.”
Pander turned like a fighting dog. “You calling me a liar?”
“Yes.”
Pander got livid. Some sweat rolled over his glasses. He wiped at them, took them off. Some had never seen him without his glasses.
In the middle of the silence Fell's voice dropped like a stone. “Don't tangle with Cripp, Pander,” he said.
It brought the fight out in the open and Pander jumped.
From the waist up, Cripp was by far the strongest in the room. He ducked when Pander rushed him and, taking a fist in the face as if it didn't matter, coiled his big arms around Pander's middle. He squeezed so hard it made a sound.
“Leave him,” said Fell. He was standing now. There was nothing mean in the way he looked, only dangerous. He looked active even standing still, and the force in him struck out like a charge. “Hold him, Cripp,” he said.
Cripp twisted an arm and Pander snapped around, not daring to move because his arm might come off.
“And you guys, listen. He put you in the hole and didn't have the brains to see it coming. Then he didn't have the guts to cover. But he made a pile on it. Mindy paid fifteen to one on the nose. She came in third. How much, Cripp?”
“Eight.”
“He got eight for every buck he put on that horse, and he put plenty. He used his pool to stake on Mindy, so the pool is eight times as big now, by rights. That's where your money's going to come from, to cover those bets you guys sold.”
“That won't cover,” said Cripp.
“Right, that won't cover. That's the part you guys have to worry about. You'll have to put that up yourselves. Here's my deal: I'll put it up and you guys work it off, working for me. Most of the season is ahead of us and you can work it off easy, with cash to spare. After that you can stick or you can blow. But nobody blows before you pay up. Is that clear?”
They said okay. Fell had himself a crew.
“Is that clear, Pander?”
Pander couldn't move and he didn't talk.
“Let him loose,” said Fell.
Cripp did. Fell shouldn't have stood that close; he should have known, like everyone else did, that there was no other way for it.
