by Peter Rabe
“You’re right.”
“I know I’m right.” Benny took a deep breath. “And when he does, you need a man to learn the ropes, to take it over. You need a man who knows that rat well enough to catch him in a double-cross, to figure where he might try to pull it.”
There was a pause.
“Well?” Benny said. He was sure now. His voice was even. “Am I in?”
“You’re in.”
They had another drink. Then Scotty came and showed the way upstairs, to the room where they kept Pat.
There was no sound behind the door while Benny waited till Scotty was down the stairs. He waited another moment. This wasn’t going to be a thing like handling Alverato. This was going to be more like a handful.
When he opened the door he saw her on the couch, deep in the cushions. Pat didn’t look much like a handful. She sat curled up, plucking her left ear lobe with a short, mechanical movement, and her light eyes were traveling back and forth with an irresolute haste. Then she turned fast. “Benny!” She jumped up and ran across the room. “Benny, where have you been?”
“I’m back,” he said.
“Benny, the time I’ve had! It’s all so crazy and I had to see you, Benny. Fix me a drink, will you?”
“Sure, Pat. Sit down. I’m back.”
“Fix me a drink, will you, Benny? Remember that raw stuff we had down South? Remember in the prison you had-”
“In a second. Pat, listen. How have you been?”
“Rotten, just rotten.” She talked in a fast clipped way. “I even had a doctor. My father had a doctor, two doctors. My God, Benny, they didn’t do a thing. Terrible, Benny.”
“What was wrong?”
“My God, nothing, everything. My head, Benny, and everything makes me so nervous. And sometimes pains in my legs, I don’t know why.”
“What did they say, the doctors?”
“Rest, quiet, nerves. Those jackasses! One of them even asked if I take dope. My God! Of course, it’s been so long ago I didn’t-”
“I heard you, Pat.”
“Will you get me a drink or do I scream? You remember that sharp stuff we had? Do you have any of that sharp stuff?”
“Keep still, Pat. I’ll be back.” He got up.
There was only one envelope left. He had it in his watch pocket, and downstairs, at the bar, he used it as before. He got the youngest whisky on the shelf, and, using half of the little white envelope, he fixed her what she needed.
Upstairs again he watched her take it with a greediness that made her look ugly. Afterward she paced the room, plucking at her ear lobe, and he noticed how she walked around the furniture as if she were afraid it was going to bite.
“Now that you’re back, let’s get out of here,” she said. “There ought to be better places than this.” She swung her arm. “There ought to be places where we can go. You and me. What do you say?” She looked at him, seeing how his face never changed. “What’s the matter with you, Tapkow. You starting to play games again? Hard to get or something?”
“Pat, listen for a minute.” He wasn’t sure that this was the right time, but she’d be under pretty soon and then nothing would make sense to her. “You’re staying here for a while. I’ll stay with you.” He waited. “I’ll stay with you, Pat. You hear me?”
She had closed her eyes and was starting to smile. “Ah,” she said with a deep breath.
“Pat-”
“Don’t yell, Benny. I can hear you.” She sat down on the couch and put her hand on his knee. “What is it, Benny?”
That creepy smile with the eyes looking tired had come over her. It had come too fast; she was going off. And he hadn’t explained.
“Don’t feel bad about it, Benny. You’re trying your best.” She smiled at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“The whisky, Benny. That sharp, bitter whisky. I remember now, the way it was in jail. You did the same there, didn’t you, Benny? You spiked it.”
What made the shock worse was the bland smile she kept on her face.
“I understand, Benny. You tried to help, didn’t you, darling?” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, darling.”
She was making things worse. She was saying what he’d been telling himself, and the whole rotten lie of it twisted through him like pain.
“Isn’t that true, darling?”
If only it hadn’t been Pat. If only it wouldn’t be Pat, the hub of his plans, both plans, the clean and the rotten.
Her voice, calm and reasonable, gave him another jolt. The longer they stay users, the clearer they stay in the head. For a while. She sounded clear and sane: “-and solve both our problems, Benny. I’ll stay, I won’t cause any trouble. You finish up with Daddy.” She grinned. “And I want you to have all the luck in the world.” She stopped, as if she were thinking about it; then her face became serious again. “And in return, darling, you help with mine. Keep me happy, Benny. O.K.?” She watched his face but didn’t see what went through him when he caught her meaning. “You get the H, just a little bit now and then, and I won’t cause any trouble. O.K.?”
When he found his voice, the struggle left him with nothing but nonsense. “Stop grinning!” he shouted. “Stop that goddamn grinning!”
“Or I’ll make trouble.” She wasn’t grinning or smiling or any of those things. Her face was flat and her voice was like metal. “There are telephones all over the house, and dumb little men with their tongues hanging out to do what I ask them to. There are a thousand little ways-”
He was tired of fighting on a dozen fronts. He’d always got things done by doing one at a time, one after the other. “It’s a deal. And when this is over-”
“Sure, Benny, sure.” She got up and walked to the window. “Sure, sure, sure.” She started to twirl, watching her skirt billow up.
“Pat!” But he was talking to nobody. She was off at the other end of the room banging on the piano. Just the way Tober had done it. The last thing Tober had said, Benny remembered, was “Wish me luck!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alverato was first, then Benny, and last came Birdie. Nobody tried to make a procession out of it, but that’s the way it turned out when Big Al went someplace. They walked through the door and stood in the black-and-gold anteroom. Turk showed them to the library, where Pendleton was waiting. He watched Alverato come and they watched Pendleton. He wasn’t alone, either.
“Pendy, sit down,” Alverato said. He said it as if the place were his. He looked at the two torpedoes behind Pendleton’s chair and the other one who stood by the door. “Something new, huh, Pendy? Kind of like old times, it looks like to me. I’m surprised at you, Pendy.” Alverato leaned across the desk, looking confidential. “Kind of outdated methods you’re using, ain’t cha?” and he roared.
They sat down around the desk with the torpedoes making like statues. Benny tried to catch Pendleton’s eye, but no luck. That was another good sign. First the torpedoes, now this. For once he had Pendleton acting human. A little longer, he thought, a little longer like this and then he’d get Pendleton where he would crack.
“O.K., Pendleton, send away your doggies and we talk business.” Alverato lit his cigar.
They moved away, out of earshot.
“Now, I never liked a double-cross, Pendy, and you’re no exception. You’re more like a good example, you bastard, so don’t try any more games.”
“There was no double-cross, Alverato. A precaution, I would call it. A precaution that-”
“Save it. Now let’s set it straight about the cable code. What’s the change you made?”
“Only the signature.”
Alverato looked at Benny, whose mouth gave a short smirk.
“Instead of ‘Alfred B. Kent,’ you sign just Alfred.’”
“I’ll be damned,” Alverato said. Benny kept still. “Any other changes you’d like to tell me about?”
There was the merest pause before Pendleton spoke, and he glanced at Ben
ny for the first time.
“No,” Pendleton said.
Benny kept still.
“If you’re lying, Pendleton,” Big Al waved his cigar, “just remember I got your daughter.”
“You insult my intelligence,” Pendleton said, but nobody paid any attention to the way he said it.
“So let’s have the receiving operation. Lay it out clear, no double talk, and nothing left out. My boy Benny here is going to follow you every step. He’s taking over where you leave off, Pendy.”
Pendleton had nothing to say to that He opened a nautical map on top of the desk. Then he spoke with an effort. “The answering cable from Signor Lippi, as you remember, tells you the time and place of the pickup in Italy. An agent of your choosing-I will give Mr. Tapkow the name of the man we have been using-makes contact with Lippi’s messenger, who carries the heroin. Your agent pays and holds the package until a ship that you designate makes port in the pickup city.
“There are three pursers on three ships of the Greenfell Line who have performed the next step in the transaction. Mr. Tapkow will be introduced to these men as they become available. Only one of them is in port at the moment. We have chosen these three men because together their shipping schedules are the most active. In the present case the purser of the David Letz, a freighter, has been instructed. Upon reaching Naples, your agent will contact him and deliver the package, and then he will return here with a receipt. In the meantime, the purser stows the contents of the package in various places on the freighter. He has one more duty. One day before his ship reaches this point on the return trip-” Pendleton pointed to an area on the map-”he seals the heroin in a tubular container. This is one of them.” Pendleton reached to the floor and set a thing like a thermos bottle on the desk. It had a screw-on cap with a snap lock and the whole thing was made of aluminum. There was a ring on top of the cover and inside the cylinder was a rubber container. “At precisely this location,” and Pendleton’s finger stabbed a spot near the coast of Virginia, “this container is dropped overboard. It is dropped with a simple cork float attached to the ring, which keeps the container at an average depth of twelve feet. The float itself, attached by line, stays suspended below water at about two feet. There’s one further attachment. Wired to the cork-”
“Wait a minute. This looks like a lousy spot to me, Pendleton. That drop point is too far out.”
“It’s the best point. It’s usually invisible from land and it’s just this side of the continental shelf. If the container sinks, there is still some chance of recovery. Another advantage is the absence of any strong currents. The Gulf Stream drift, because of these promontories and the swing of the coastline, is veering much farther out, here. To continue.” Pendleton gave an offended cough. “Attached to the float is a four-inch capsule of yellow dye, which is released and diluted in a carefully controlled manner.”
“Where do you get it?”
“Mr. Tapkow will meet the young man who prepares it. The capsule melts in contact with salt water after one hour’s time, a necessary lapse to allow the ship sufficient progress from this spot. The dye, granting certain weather conditions, spreads on the surface of the water to form a bright yellow spot about fifty feet in diameter. In other words, unless you are looking for the spot, you will hardly discover it. The dye can be seen for the next four hours. After that it disappears. This time span is the most practical compromise in view of the closeness to shore and the necessity of dropping the container right in this shipping lane.”
“What about planes?”
“The spot is clearly visible from above; however, there are no fixed flight routes over this area.”
“So I got four hours.”
“Precisely. After that time you have two days before the container sinks. The attachment between rope and float disintegrates after that length of time. The average drift of the container would have carried it to this area by that time. Beyond here-another day’s drift-a coastal current would deliver the whole assembly to these shores, a risk that must be avoided.”
“Nice. Very nice.” Alverato was sucking on his lower lip. “Very neat. I got four hours, huh? How do I know when the guy on the ship makes his drop?”
“Presumed time of making port for all ships is posted with the harbormaster. Ships on this lane bound for here send periodic short-wave messages of location and progress after they pass this point on the chart That’s well beyond the drop point, you notice.”
“Who makes the pickup?” Benny asked.
“There is a man-”
“Never mind.” Alverato waved his hand. “I do my own picking up. All we do is keep tuned in, huh? Nice, very nice. What do you think, Benny?”
“Sounds O.K. to me. I’ll still be checking with Pendleton, anyway.”
There hadn’t been any “Mister” before the name, but Pendleton couldn’t do a thing about it.
“I believe that’s all,” he said, and got up from his chair. Two of his bruisers came back to stand next to him, but nobody else moved.
“Sit down, Pendy. There’s one more thing.”
Pendleton’s narrow eyes started to glitter but he couldn’t get his mouth open before Alverato went on. “You’re showing my boy Benny the pickup details and taking him around to those guys you mentioned. And it’s going to be gratis. No fifty per cent, Pendleton.”
Pendleton’s hands pressed on the desk. “I could have you thrown out, Alverato. I could have you thrown out, mess up your deal, and-”
“Why don’t you dry up? Why don’t you get wise and remember there’s only one top dog when I’m around, Pendleton, one top dog who don’t like double-crossers, and who’s got your daughter into the bargain?”
“You’re overreaching.” Pendleton’s voice rose. “You think your intimidations are going to work forever? Just how long do you think you’ll keep my daughter? Just how long do you think I will permit it?” He was controlling his rage now so the voice came out a dry rattle. “You’re not going to keep her, you’re not going to harm her, and you’re not-”
“Why not, Pendy?” Alverato looked lazy.
“Why not? You seem to forget that I want her back, that I’m learning fast how to deal with your kind, that my methods are far more versatile than yours. Or are you threatening to take her life, you fat moron? How, then, do you suppose, can you keep your hold over me?”
Alverato’s face seemed to swell and his beefy hands balled into fists. “I’m going to sit here and take your gaff, Wrinkle-ass? I’m going to let you tell me how to run this thing?” He took a deep breath, ready now for the next bellow when Benny said:
“I’ll take it from here, Al.”
His voice had been even and the room was suddenly like the hushed hall in an empty house.
“Pendleton is coming around all right,” he went on. “I’m going to tell him why he’ll toe the line. Why he’ll do it fast.” There was a pause as if Benny didn’t care one way or the other. “His daughter isn’t dead. And she isn’t alive. She’s right in between, and the more Pendleton stalls, the worse it’ll be for her. Pendleton, you’re selling the stuff that’s got her away from you. Your baby is hooked.” He was playing with an unlit cigarette. “And you’re hooked, Pendleton. That hook has magic. The longer it stays in, the bigger it grows. And the hook is in.”
He stopped and put a match to the cigarette. There was an ash tray on a table nearby and he took the match there, dropped it in, and came back to the desk before anybody had made a sound. Even when Pendleton opened his mouth, it was only a thin, cracked breath that came out.
Alverato managed it first. “By God,” he said, and “By God” again.
Pendleton had sunk in his chair, and the fight for control showed on his face. His mouth grew stiff and then lax again and after a while there was no expression.
“By God, Benny, I wouldn’t have thought it.” Alverato sat with mouth open, the surprise showing frank and simple. When he slapped his hand on the desk, his sudden laugh made a noise like t
hat of stones in a bucket “I wouldn’t have thought it Christ, Benny, you’re a genius!”
Benny let him think it and watched Pendleton, but there was no argument from him. He had seen it on Alverato’s face, the stupid surprise that hung there, and Pendleton never doubted that all of it was true.
They left him there, making a procession of it First Alverato, next to him Benny, and Birdie closing the door.
For a long while it looked as if Pendleton were just sitting, as if he were frozen there and nothing went on inside. But that wasn’t so. At one o’clock in the morning he picked up the phone and got a sleepy night girl at the switchboard a few hours to the south of New York. He got a number from her and he called that. He talked and was very convincing; so much so that he got simple answers that sounded more and more frightened. Nancy Driscoll was very frightened when she hung up the phone by her bed and started to dress.
Chapter Twenty-Four
He had never been any bigger, but if Benny ever thought about it at all, he would only have figured it was his due. For the time being it meant three things.
There was the job to learn the receiving end of the imports.
There was Pat.
There was Pendleton.
To learn the new operations wasn’t different from what he’d been doing for years. He had kept his eyes open then, he was keeping them open now, and if there was any detail that Pendleton wasn’t asked to explain, it wasn’t important They met every day. There now were four men following Pendleton and they kept their hands in their pockets. Benny came alone. What he had by way of protection was a thin girl sitting on Alverato’s estate who sometimes played the piano, or slept, or did listless things with her hands.
In a way it was simple now to take care of Pat. He knew how much to give her and when. Doc Welch had taken care of that. Doc Welch made a solution of the stuff and showed Benny how much she needed. He used a clean syringe and a sterile needle. It was that simple. She didn’t know it, but the hook was in deep. She was a main-liner.
