by Robert Bloch
“You got it!” His voice cracked, almost as if he was laughing. “You got the dough!”
It was hard for me to hear them talk because the sounds seemed to come from far away. The package in my arms was heavy, but I could scarcely feel it. I hadn’t really felt anything all the way back here.
They both looked at me, expecting me to say something. I started to smile, started to nod, and then all at once everything was slipping away and I blacked out.
Chapter Sixteen
When I opened my eyes, they had me propped up on the sofa in the front room and Specs was saying, “Here, drink this!” and holding a glass of whiskey under my nose.
I swallowed some of it and the rest ran down the front of my shirt.
“Darling, are you all right?” Mary had a cold towel on my forehead, and she looked worried.
“Sure. It’s just excitement. Where’s the dough?”
She nodded towards the kitchen. I could see through the door, where it was lying on the table.
“Don’t try to move,” she said. “Just rest, now.”
“Rest, hell!” I sat up. “This is what I’ve been waiting for. Come on, let’s go!”
I got up. My knees were a little wobbly, but I moved. They followed me into the kitchen. “Lock the door,” I said. “Mary, bring me that carton from under the sink.”
She brought over one of the empty cartons we’d hauled groceries in.
I was ripping the rest of the twine and paper off. The money spilled out over the table, covered it in a heap that must have been over a foot high.
The three of us just looked at it for a minute.
“Jesus!” Specs shook his head. “Think of it, two hundred grand. I never seen so much dough in all my life!”
“Don’t be bashful.” I grinned. “Help yourself. It’s all ours. Come on, you two, start counting.”
The money lay there under the light, bundle after bundle of it. It was something to run your hands through, something to feel all that cash, pick it up, hold it, and say to yourself, “Here’s a trip to Europe,” or “A hundred twenties, enough for a new car.” And you could do it over and over again, each time thinking of something else to buy, to have, to own. Some of the bills were brand new, and the light was shining down on them all green and beautiful. It was enough to make you drunk, just to see the stuff, feel how crisp it was, and even to smell it.
Best of all was the counting. I counted fast. I counted $114,000 while the other two just counted $86,000 between them. I made Mary check it over again when we finished. It was all there, and it was all ours.
“I can’t hardly believe it,” Specs said. “No sir, I can’t hardly believe it.” He stared at the piles of bills.
“Neither can I.” Mary was staring, too. “It’s just like a dream.”
“Well it’s real,” I told them. “Every bit of it. And we’ve earned it. Now let’s put it away where we can all be sure it’s safe.”
“Aren’t you going to divide it up now?”
“What for, Specs? You going anyplace tonight?”
“No, but—”
“Don’t be childish.” I swept it off the table into the cardboard carton Mary had brought for me. “This goes into the trunk of the Olds. That’s the best place for it.”
“Okay,” said Specs. “I guess you’re right. Just so we all know where it is.”
“What the hell, you want it now, you can have it. Keep it under your pillow if you like.”
“Aw, don’t talk that way, Steve. You know I trust you.” Specs came over to me and slapped me on the back. “I sure got to hand it to you, the way you pulled this thing off. It took a lot of nerve.”
“I told you we’d do it. And the big thing is teamwork.” I grinned down at him, then looked at Mary. “But say, this calls for a celebration. How about fixing up a drink while I take this out?”
“Sure, Steve.”
I picked up the carton and started for the door. Specs ran after me. “Hey, wait, you dropped a pile of tens!”
“Who cares?” I said. “It’s only money.”
Then all three of us started laughing. I went out and stowed the cash away in the trunk compartment, locking it after. When I came back, Mary had the whiskey and the coke on the table.
All of us were feeling keyed-up with the excitement, and we drank fast. It didn’t take too long before we were pretty high. For the first time, I felt like drinking myself. I loaded up with the two of them. Mary poured into water-glasses and we’d dump coke on top of that. She kept the glasses filled up.
When the first bottle was empty, she got out the second and opened it. Then she came over and sat on my lap and ruffled my hair.
“Oh boy!” Specs said. “Could I go for some of that!”
“You’ll get your chance,” I told him. “Soon’s we head out of here.”
“When we going, lover?” Mary put her head on my shoulder. “Tomorrow?”
“Day or so. Don’t bother about it now. Here, finish your drink.”
“Boy, I wish that Terry was here now.” Specs leaned over the table, pouring himself another. “Maybe we can take her along with us, hey Steve?”
“Don’t talk crazy. You know we can’t do a thing like that. But you don’t have to worry—with what you got, you can line yourself up with a real number.”
“Terry’s all right with me.” Specs took a swallow. “What’s wrong with her, Steve? What you got against Terry? Maybe she’s skinny, but she’s the best goddam—”
“Here, watch your language!” I said.
Mary giggled. “That’s okay. It doesn’t bother me. I know what he means.”
“Sure you do.” Specs took off his glasses. “You know what’s wrong with you, Steve? You think too much. That’s the trouble with you. Never stop thinkin’. Never relax, let your hair down. Never have a good time.”
“Oh yes he does,” Mary said. “Don’t you, lover?” She breathed in my ear.
“That’s right.”
“We’ll have plenty good times,” Mary said. “From now on, no more trouble, just good times.”
“Check,” I said.
“And you know why?” she said. “Because Steve. That’s why. Because Steve. He thought it all up. All out of his own beau’ful curly head. Every bit of it! Wasn’ for him, what we have? Nothing! Now what we got? Two hundred thousand dollars, that’s what. And don’ you forget it, you Specs!”
“Who’s forgettin’?” Specs rolled his head around. “Not me, I don’t forget. Steve’s my pal. My only true, best pal. Best friend man ever had.” He started to get up, then fell back in his chair. “Goddam, wish I had Terry here. Know what I’d do? I’d take her in the bedroom, see? And that sixty-six grand, I’d have that dough lyin’ all over the bed. And I’d show it to her and I’d say, ‘Honey, how about you and me lyin’ down in all that money and knockin’ off—’ ”
“Hold it.” I held up my watch. “It’s three o’clock. We got work tomorrow, you know? Come on, let’s go to bed.”
“Yes.” Mary grabbed my arm. “Let’s go to bed. Come on, Steve.”
Specs stood up, knocking over his glass. “Okay, we go to bed. All three of us.”
I lifted Mary off my lap and stood up. “Take it easy, boy,” I said. “Here, let me help you.” I went over, got him by the arm and helped him into the bedroom.
“Where’s Mary?” he mumbled. “Ain’t she comin’ too?”
“In a little while. Lie still so’s I can get your shoes off. There. Now roll over and I’ll cover you up.”
“Don’ need covers. Gonna wait for Mary.”
“Sure. Whatever you say.” I covered him up and turned out the light. He started to sit up, then fell back on the pillow. A couple of seconds later he started to snore.
I went out. Mary was in our bedroom, in the dark.
“Lover?”
“I’m here. Just put Specs to bed. He’s all right, passed out cold.”
“Steve, you think he meant it, about the three of us?”
“No, he was just high. You know how drunks are.”
“I know.” She giggled again. “Everything’s going around and around. Like the first time—remember?”
“I remember.”
“Only that Specs. Always talking about women. Steve, he worries me.”
“Forget it,” I said. “You didn’t come to bed to talk about Specs.”
“Uh-huh. You’re so right. So right, lover!”
She wasn’t thinking about Specs any more, not now she wasn’t. But all of a sudden, I was.
I tried to think about what I was doing, and I couldn’t. Everything was moving so fast and there was nothing you could hang on to. That was the whole trouble. Even having the money didn’t really end things. The whole two hundred grand wouldn’t help to stop things for a second. They just kept on going, and I had to keep going with them.
It was a funny time and a funny place to be thinking about it, but I had to. Tomorrow was another day, and I’d have to call old man Warren and hand him a line, and then I’d have to dope out a way of getting out of here, and I’d have to keep Mary hepped up, and I’d have to handle Specs. We’d have to get out of here, out of here, out of here, and never a moment’s rest until we were safe, never a minute of peace and quiet; I had to keep on thinking and thinking and moving and moving—
“Steve, is anything the matter?”
“No, Mary. Nothing’s the matter.”
I hoped she believed me. But I knew when I said it, it was a lie. Getting that money hadn’t solved any problems for us yet. The real problems were just beginning.
I lay back, stuck a pillow under my head, and stared up at the shadows on the ceiling, waiting for tomorrow to come.
Chapter Seventeen
Once things start moving, they move fast. It seemed like I scarcely managed to close my eyes before Mary was shaking me and saying, “Time to get up, Steve. You want to make that call, don’t you?”
I got out of bed. She was dressed, and I could see Specs through the doorway. He was sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast already.
“Be ready in five minutes,” I said. I went into the john and shaved and dressed in a hurry. Then I came back out and had some eggs.
“You want me to go into town with you?” Specs asked me.
“No. Just stick here.”
“Well, I been thinking things over. I don’t feel so bad now. Maybe I could call the shop—tell Cutrelli I was sick last night or something, so he won’t get suspicious.”
I shook my head. “That’s out. You forget you took your clothes along when you moved in here. He might call back, check with your landlady.”
“It was just an idea.”
“I know. But don’t bother with any more ideas. That’s my department, from now on. You just stick here with Mary.”
“But it makes me nervous, just sitting around with nothing to do, and all.”
“Tough.” I leaned back. “Only you got to figure it won’t be for long. This afternoon, when I get back, we’ll start planning our next move.”
“Getting out of here?”
“That’s right,” I said. “I’ve been thinking it over. Now’s the time to go—before they miss you at the shop and start putting two and two together. I was going to wait until I was sure old man Warren got Mary’s letter from New Orleans. Now I think we’re smarter if we pull out ahead of time. So that when the kid doesn’t show up, we’ll already be on our way. That suit you?”
“I’ll say it does.” Specs looked a lot happier all of a sudden.
“What are the plans, Steve?” Mary asked me.
“Wait until I get back,” I told her. “Then we can sit down and take our time talking.” I stood up, jangling the car keys.
“Hey, you aren’t going to take that dough into town with you, are you?” Specs asked.
“Why not? Can you think of a safer place?”
“Well, you could leave it right here. Suppose something was to happen—”
“Nothing’s going to happen. I’m taking the money with me because I have to take the gun, too. And I’ll feel a lot safer knowing the money and the gun are together. Just in case.” I walked up to him. “What’s the matter, Specs, don’t you trust me?”
“Sure, I trust you. Only—aw, go ahead, do it your way!”
“Damn right I’ll do it my way.” I turned and looked at Mary. “See you later,” I said.
“Be careful, darling.”
“Quit telling me to be careful! I know what I’m doing.”
And I walked out, pulled the car out of the garage, and drove away.
That hadn’t been smart, flying off the handle. But they were starting to get me down, both of them. It was easy enough to talk, but when you came right down to it, I had to do the dirty work. I was sticking my head in the lion’s mouth now, and they sat back and took it easy, waiting for me to dope out the next move.
When it came right down to it, what the hell did I need them for now? I couldn’t depend on either one to come up with any good ideas. They were just dead weight from now on in. No wonder they got under my skin.
I drove up to the crossroads. No roadblock today, so far. I started to turn right, then stopped.
Suppose I turned left, instead?
I had the money in back, and the gun in front. What more did I need? Turn left, drive to Chicago maybe, or better still, some town like Rockford or Peoria where I could catch a plane heading south or southwest. What was there to stop me?
Plenty, that’s what.
If Warren didn’t get a call pretty soon, the word would be out and then there’d really be hell popping. Yes, and if I didn’t come back, those two dimwits wouldn’t sit there forever. They’d run to the law and start singing. My name, description, everything.
No, it wouldn’t work. The chips were down. I had to go through with it.
I turned right.
It was hard for me to put my foot down on the accelerator. I didn’t like the idea of going back into town again. Even though I told myself nothing had changed, nothing was different, nobody knew any more than they had three days ago. It was just the idea, just that I knew the score. What if there was one of those freak accidents and they opened up the trunk of the car? What if I happened to run into Cutrelli, or Mrs. Delehanty who thought I’d left town? What if they’d figured some arrangement so that all the pay-phones were being tapped for calls? For all I knew, they had a plain clothes detail covering every booth in town.
What was the matter with me, going chicken like this? I had the dough. Everything was under control. Everything except my nerves. And that was the most important of all.
I took a deep breath. I wasn’t closing my eyes any more. No telling who might show up with my eyes closed, show up to wave that rope around with the funny knot tied in it. Deep breaths were safer. You’re safe as long as you’re breathing.
Then I was downtown, and everything was normal. People on the streets, cars going by, stores open, business as usual. A nice summer day. The kind of day for thinking about a good, long vacation.
That was better. Think about the long vacation ahead. Years and years of it, with nothing to worry about, no more working, no more grief. And all I had to do was make a phone call, just to cover up. It was simple, looking at it that way.
I didn’t go all the way in to downtown, though. I parked over on Washington and went into the Manufacturer’s Building. They had three phones in the lobby downstairs.
I walked in. There was a fat dame talking in the middle booth, so I stood there waiting for her to get through. She kept yakking and yakking, long enough for me to smoke all the way down on a cigarette. Why is it the fat ones always seem to yak the longest?
Finally she got out of there and I took a quick look around and stepped into the end booth, at the right. I dialed the number.
“Good morning. Acme Trust.” The same girl.
“Warren.”
“Who should I say—?”
“Never mind. It’s th
e guy you called copper on the other day. Listen, sister, if you pull that stunt again today, I’m coming after you. Get me?”
“Ooh—yes!”
“Then put Warren on, quick.”
Click, buzz, then, “Hello. This is Warren.”
“I got the money. You’re all set.”
“How’s Shirley—”
“Shut up and listen. I’m only going to tell you once. I’m wise to you and your tricks—trying to trace calls on me like you did. So here’s the story. Come alone. Tonight, midnight, the same place. Got it?”
“Yes, but—”
“That’s all, brother.”
I banged the receiver down, turned around and marched out of there. I didn’t know if the call was being traced or not, but I didn’t want to stick around a second longer than I had to. I made for the car, and drove away.
On the way back, I got to thinking. Specs and Mary were so damned dumb they’d have to be watched every minute. Particularly after tomorrow. Because tomorrow, when Warren’s kid didn’t show up, the real fun would start. FBI and everything, the works. I could almost see the headlines. NATION-WIDE SEARCH FOR KIDNAPPERS.
Tomorrow. Suppose we started, right now. Head east, cross the state line into Illinois. Say, five hours. Keep driving in shifts, down through Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee. Then North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida.
No. We’d never make it in a day, not in two days. Take three at the least. And by that time there’d be roadblocks all over. No matter what route we took, we’d hit a couple of them, we were bound to by the law of averages.
And the word might be out then, about Specs. They’d be looking for him. We could take a train or a plane from someplace, only there was that nation-wide search angle again. They’d be checking on passengers. We didn’t have near enough luggage, either. And hanging onto a suitcase full of dough would look bad.
No. I made up my mind.
And when I got back, as soon as I parked and went into the kitchen, I told them.
“Here’s the word, folks,” I said. “We’re not leaving for a while.”
“What’s the matter?” Specs.
“Something go wrong?” Mary.
