Booked to Die
Page 35
Kendall gave a dry little laugh.
“These things take time, Marty. But I do believe we’ll be friends.”
Kendall looked at his feet. “Well, I’ve come to think of you as my friend, even if you don’t quite feel that way. But maybe it’s time I moved on.”
“If that’s how it is, I can understand that.”
“There’s nothing I can do for you here. I’d just be marking time. Maybe later, if you wanted to look me up.”
Dulaney just watched him. Something was eating him, you could see it working on him. The lie, Dulaney thought: he’s trying to get rid of all the stuff he’s been lying about.
“I want you to remember this,” Kendall said. “What I told you about radio is God’s truth. You could set that world on its ass. You already know how to make words live. And you’ve got one other thing. You make people want to do their best for you. I hear Corwin’s got that. Maybe that’s why he directs his own stuff so well. People give him everything they’ve got. This is all gospel now, straight from the heart.”
“I never doubted that. At least I know you believe it.”
“Hang on to that thought because now I’ve got to tell you something that hurts. You’ve already guessed it, I haven’t been square with you. We didn’t just meet by accident. I was sent to find you.”
Dulaney glared across the table. “You found me months ago. Why am I just hearing about it now? And who the hell is this who’s taken such an interest in my habits?”
Kendall shook his head. “I’ve got some more thinking to do before I decide to tell you that.”
“Did somebody rough you up on my account?”
Kendall said nothing but his silence said much.
“Who beat you up, Marty?”
“Just a thug. Some goddamn mulligan. I don’t know who he was.”
“But you know why he did it. Don’t deny that, I can see it in your face. Somebody sent him to work you over. Something about me.”
Dulaney thought about old enemies, but none he could remember would have gone to such trouble. Suddenly the guard stirred and Dulaney was aware of the time. “What about Holly?”
“I don’t know. She seems to be the cause of it.”
Dulaney absorbed this in a long moment. “This is hard for me to imagine. In all these months you never once mentioned her name.”
“You weren’t supposed to know.”
“Know what, for Christ’s sake?” Dulaney’s anger was so strong now that Kendall could barely look at him.
“I’m sorry, Jack. It was just an acting job to me. That’s how it started. Then we got to know each other.”
“You son of a bitch.”
“I did it because I needed the money. I didn’t know you or this woman.” Kendall tried to look away but Dulaney gripped his arm.
“Tell me about the letter.”
“She… said she needed something. Something you’ve been holding for her. She had… gotten herself in some kind of jam. Butted heads with somebody, made herself a powerful enemy.”
This sounded unreal. It sounded calmly terrifying. It grew like a virus, gripping him tighter with every heartbeat.
“What was it she wanted?”
“Don’t you know that?”
“How the hell would I know? When was this letter mailed?”
“Postmark was February.”
Three months ago. She had been in trouble three months ago and had written him for help.
“Where was it mailed?”
“Someplace called Sadler, Pennsylvania.”
Her hometown. The weight of it grew as he sat thinking. “This changes everything,” he whispered.
Kendall didn’t seem to hear, or understand what he meant. “Listen, Jack, if you want my strong advice, I say send her what she wants. Tell me where it is and I’ll take care of it for you today. Maybe it’s some little thing her father sent.”
Again this startled him. “How do you know about her father?”
“That’s not important now. We’re gonna run out of time.”
Dulaney nodded at the guard, hoping to buy a few extra minutes. “I haven’t got anything of Holly’s,” he said. “Her father never sent me anything.”
Kendall leaned toward him, his face flushed. “Jack, listen to me. Whatever it is, let’s give it up. These people aren’t fooling around. Man, I think that gorilla cracked one of my ribs.”
“Who are these bastards?… You called the tough one a mulligan. In my lingo that’s an Irish hood.”
“He’s Irish, all right.” Kendall swallowed hard and Dulaney could see the pain in his face. “He doesn’t matter. He’s just a thug.”
Dulaney sat still, listening to time run down in his head. Three months ago she had been in trouble. Three months.
“Time’s up, boys.”
Dulaney said, “Just a minute, please,” and suddenly he had a hundred questions and no time for any of them.
“Did you get my stuff out of the hotel?”
“It’s in the car. But listen, Jack—”
Dulaney held up his hand. “I’m coming out of here.”
“How, for Christ’s sake?”
“You can always run from a road gang if you’re willing to risk taking some buckshot.”
Kendall closed his eyes and shuddered. “Are you crazy?”
“You can help me, or not. Either way I’m coming out.”
Suddenly the thing took another twist. Kendall leaned close and his voice was a trembly whisper. “You’re going to get yourself killed for nothing. Listen to me now, Jack. Listen!… there is no letter.”
“Now what are you saying?”
“There is no letter. There never was any letter. I was told to say that. I’m telling you the truth now, Jack. It’s all a ruse.”
The deputy coughed. “Come on, boys, let’s wind it up.”
Dulaney smiled and made a plea with his hands. “I’m coming out, Marty,” he whispered. “It’s up to you whether you want to help me or not.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Find out where the work camp is. Play that lawyer role you do so well, see if they’ll tell you where they took us. If you can leave the car on the nearest road east of the camp, do that. If you can’t, I’m out of luck and on my own.”
Dulaney cocked his head. “This is going to be damned hit-or-miss but it’s the only chance I’ve got. I’ll run east in the morning, just as the sun comes up.”
He stared into Kendall’s eyes. “This means you’ll be on foot. It’s a risk I’m asking you to take, but I’ll be in prison clothes and I’m gonna need that car.”
He reached across the table and gripped Kendall’s hand. This was their test of fire.
Kendall smiled, wary and pale. “That’s what I meant about you, Jack. You always make people do their best for you. Hope it doesn’t get you killed.”
Look for Two O’Clock, Eastern Wartime
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © 1992 by John Dunning
Originally published in hardcover in 1992 by Scribner
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ISBN-13: 978-1-43911-729-3 (eBook)
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