The Bind

by Stanley Ellin

  Jake said: “What do you think Gela is? That money from Thoren should have been all yours. How much did Gela ever give you of it when he took over? Did you know he got up to where he was squeezing ten thousand a month out of Thoren?”

  Dobbs shook his head. “No, sir, I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. Mr. Gela says to me, he says: ‘You do things my way, and you’re good for one thousand dollars cash money each and every month of the year.’ That’s a pile of money, Mr. Dekker. A man can live like a king on a lot less. I ain’t saying Mr. Gela ain’t poison, too. I’m only saying he gave me more than I ever looked to get in this lifetime. And the way he took care of things, I didn’t have to be in a sweat about getting run over by a car before my time. No sense being greedy and dead.”

  Jake said: “But Thoren’s the one who’s dead now, so there’s no chance of getting run over by him any more. And ten thousand dollars for the final payoff is too cheap. You’re the big man in the company. Without you, Gela and his friends don’t have anything to sell. They don’t have any way of putting pressure on Mrs. Thoren. Be smart, Earl. You’re worth at least twice what they’ve promised you. And you don’t have to shop around for it. Play ball with me, and you’re going to collect twenty thousand.”

  “Mr. Dekker, I am purely glad to hear you say that. It shows you don’t bear hard feelings, and I am dead-set against hard feelings. But playing ball ain’t exactly what it would be. It would be more like kicking a hungry bull alligator square in the snout and watching to see what happens whilst you stand there.”

  “Thirty thousand,” Jake said softly. “All in tens and twenties fresh from the bank. Do you have any idea the kind of pile that makes when you stack it up in front of you, Earl?”

  Dobbs hitched his shoulders uncomfortably inside his jacket. He worked his hand over his face. “I tell you the truth, Mr. Dekker. Long as Mr. Gela’s got your wife put away somewheres, I don’t rightly see what you can do for yourself, much less me.”

  “I can have you on my side when the showdown comes. And with a gun in your pocket. Once we get my wife loose from Gela, we’re home free. I’ve got a billion-dollar company backing me up, Earl. And the police and the FBI. What’s wrong with collecting thirty thousand for going along with law and order? Or are you against law and order?”

  “Me? No, sir, Mr. Dekker. I am a law-and-order man all the way. I don’t hold with none of the crazy things niggers and long-hair kids get away with nowadays. But I can’t rightly see what doing a widow woman out of her insurance money got to do with law and order. And no hard feelings, Mr. Dekker, but that’s what your company aims to do. You have got to admit it. If your company wasn’t so tight about paying off that woman, you wouldn’t be down here at all now. And brung along your wife and put her in such a pickle.”

  The phone rang, and Dobbs started at the sound of it. It was Magnes’ outside line, and the phone itself had been taken from its place of concealment under the bedside table and laid on the bed. Dobbs said worriedly: “I guess that’s him, Mr. Dekker.”

  “Answer it.”

  Dobbs sidled along the wall to the bed, giving Jake a wide berth. When he picked up the phone it was almost engulfed by his immense hand. “Yes, sir?” he said anxiously, and then in a tone of relief: “Yes, sir, he’s here all right.” He started to offer the phone to Jake, then put it to his ear again. “Yes, sir.” He slyly glanced at Jake. “That’s what he done, Mr. Gela. Both ways. Bloodied me up, and then said he’d give me thirty thousand iffen I played ball with him. No, sir. You know me. I like it fine the way it is.” He held out the phone to Jake at arm’s length, his other arm going up before his face in that protective gesture. “He wants to talk to you now, Mr. Dekker. Now you remember he got your wife there.”

  Jake took the phone. “Gela?”

  “You took your time showing up, didn’t you?” Gela’s voice was uncannily like Frank Milan’s, a rasping growl. “What were you doing, Dekker? Trying to figure more angles? You ought to know you finally run out of angles.”

  “Maybe. Before we hash it out, Gela, I want to talk to my wife. Put her on.”

  “Come off it. This cute little piece of tail’s not your wife. And you’re not on Guaranty’s payroll. You’re strictly on your own for a fifty percent cut of the insurance. And nobody had to knock this broad’s teeth loose to get her talking about it. She told it all by herself to that nice detective who was taking her to the hospital. So don’t get up a sweat about it, because there ain’t a mark on her. Not yet.”

  “Put her on, Gela. I want to hear her tell me that.”

  Elinor’s words came out in a rush. “Jake, it was Magnes! He called me up, and he told me you—”

  “Never mind that,” Jake cut in sharply. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. But, Jake—”

  Her voice was cut off so abruptly, it was clear someone had clapped a hand over her mouth. Gela said: “Now you heard her.”

  “I heard her,” Jake said. “What’s the deal?”

  Gela said: “I’ll make it short. I got the home number of your insurance guy Maniscalco up in New York. You meet me right now where I am, I put in a call to him, and I listen to you tell him the case is all washed up. Thoren died in an accident, and you found that out for a fact. So the insurance check better go out first thing in the morning. Then we all sit down and wait for it to show up here.”

  Jake said: “And what do I get for being so helpful?”

  “If you’re lucky, a long, happy life full of little blondes like this one. What the hell do you expect to get for it? A loving cup?”

  “Don’t be thick, Gela. If I make that call, I’m out a hundred grand. And I’m already out twenty grand for expenses. If you’re making me a partner in this, let’s hear how much I salvage out of that dough.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Look, Gela—”

  “Don’t try to snow me. When that check hits the mailbox here, you and this dame can take off wherever you want, and the books are closed. After that, all you have to do is keep your mouth shut about it. And you will, Dekker. Because if you don’t, not only will I tell Guaranty I bought you off, so you’ll be washed up in your line, but a guy I know in the phone company just done a job for me and turned up a couple of bugs planted in the Thoren house. And if you don’t think Mrs. Thoren’ll stand up in court and swear you had to be the one who planted them, you don’t know how close she listens to me. You wouldn’t like that, Dekker, not the way they run the jails down here.” Gela’s voice took on a note of exasperation. “Jesus Christ, you been banging heads with me for almost two weeks now. You really think you’d wind up with anything but a busted skull to show for it?”

  “Maybe I still do,” Jake said.

  “Sure you do,” Gela said contemptuously. “Your trouble is you can’t get used to the idea you just blew a hundred grand. All right, you want a little time to get used to it? It’s late as hell now anyhow, and it comes to the same thing if you talk to this Maniscalco tomorrow morning, soon as he gets into his office. Only thing is, Aiello’ll be looking out for your broad until then, and he got no use for you at all. But if you want to put in the rest of the night kissing that hundred grand good-bye, you can tell that monkey with you to pick you up at eight in the morning and bring you to Dinty’s. He knows where it is.” Gela waited a few seconds, then said impatiently: “Come on, Dekker, make up your mind. Right now or in the morning? Me, I always say when you got to get a tooth pulled, do it quick. Even if the bill comes to a hundred grand.”

  Jake stood there, sweat starting to bead his face and trickle down his forehead. He swept it off his forehead with the back of his hand, but it was immediately there again.

  Suddenly Gela said: “All right, Dekker, then it’s first thing tomorrow,” and slammed down the phone.

  “Hold it!” Jake said. “Gela—!”

  It was too late. The only sound he heard now was the monotonous, unbroken buzz of the dial tone.

  58

  He wheele
d on Dobbs, who shrank back terrified. “Where was he calling from? Where is he staying?”

  “Mr. Dekker, I told you I don’t know. I swear I don’t.”

  “Crosscut?”

  “No, sir. Not to sleep over. He lives fancy, and it’s all broke down there.”

  Jake gripped the man’s tie at its knot and pressed a thumb into the bulging Adam’s apple. “Where does he live fancy?”

  Dobbs’ mouth gaped wide as he fought for breath. His hands flailed at Jake’s face until Jake banged his head against the wall. Groaning, Dobbs clapped his hands to the back of his head. “I don’t know, Mr. Dekker. Some hotel up a ways on the Beach. But I don’t know what one.”

  Jake said inexorably: “Where’s Dinty’s? And don’t say you don’t know, because he told me you did.”

  “Yes, sir, I do. But if you’ll only let go—”

  Jake flung the man away from him. “Well?”

  Dobbs rubbed his throat and drew a deep breath. “That’s in Crosscut, Mr. Dekker. It’s the general store there.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, sir. Store ain’t much, but Dinty’s the one markets the alligator skins for folks around there, so he does all right.”

  Jake said: “The store has a phone, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir. The onliest one there. And I know the number, if you want to call up. But nobody’ll be there. Not this time of night.”

  “Call up anyhow.”

  Dobbs did, while Jake held the phone. There was no answer. Dobbs said pleadingly: “That ain’t my fault, Mr. Dekker. I told you nobody would be there this time of night. Not Mr. Gela, for sure.”

  “For sure,” Jake said dully. He sat down on the bed and considered the pattern of the worn linoleum underfoot. Then he looked up at Dobbs. “Gela said you were to take me out to Dinty’s at eight in the morning. Do you have a car here?”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Dekker.” The answer came out loud and clear. It was as if thought of the car was a stiffener for the man’s spine. “Big T-bird.”

  “You know where the bridge is to the Daystar Islands?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then meet me down the block from it at eight. Now get over to that table and empty your pockets onto it.”

  “Mr. Dekker—”

  Jake stood up, and Dobbs hastily started turning out his pockets and emptying their contents on the table. Among them were two rings, one a plain gold band, the other with a diamond set into it, a heavy, old-fashioned watch on a chain, and a jeweled Masonic pin. Jake placed these apart from the rest of the litter on the table. He said: “Did you lift the money out of his wallet too?”

  “No, sir, Mr. Dekker.”

  “I’d like to believe that, you goddam ghoul. All right, take your stuff and get out of here. Fast.”

  He locked the door behind Dobbs and went to work combing the room for any papers or tapes concerning Thoren. A half hour of this indicated that Magnes had either kept no such records or had not kept them in the apartment. In the end, he put everything back as he had found it, stored the valuables in the top drawer of the dresser, and left the apartment with its lights burning.

  It was almost two when he got back to Daystar and made himself a cup of black coffee laced with cognac. At six he made himself another, and then went in to shave, cutting himself badly in the process. At seven-thirty he went into the study, sat down, and put his wristwatch on the desk before him. When the minute hand marked exactly seven forty-five he dialed the operator and asked for the police.

  He said to the man who answered: “This is not a gag or a crank call. I want to report a kidnaping.”

  “A kidnaping? What’s your name and address?”

  “Jacob Dekker, Daystar Island Number Two. The kidnaped person is my wife. She was—”

  “Hold it. Hold it.’

  A few moments later another voice came on the line. “Mr. Dekker?”

  “Yes.”

  “Lieutenant Brittenum here. You reporting your wife was kidnaped? You’re sure of that? It’s not just a case of her failing to show up some place she was supposed to be?”

  “No. She was taken from the Argyle East Hotel by a man pretending to be a detective on the Miami Beach force. His name is Anthony Aiello. He gets his orders from someone named Gela who—”

  “Angelo Gela?”

  “Yes. Frank Milan’s nephew. His friends call him Pooch.”

  Brittenum said heavily: “I see.” His voice became wary. “And what do your friends call you?”

  “I’m not tied in with your local mobsters in any way, Lieutenant. And I just got a call from Gela discussing ransom terms. We’re supposed to finish the talk at a place called Dinty’s in Crosscut on Route Ninety-four. The general store out there. I’m leaving for there now, and I want you and your men to move in and grab everybody in sight right after I get there. Dinty’s. I’m driving a Jaguar coupe. You’ll know I’m there if you see the car parked by the place.”

  “Oh sure. Except for one thing, Mr. Dekker. Crosscut’s in Monroe County. That makes this Monroe’s jurisdiction. Now you call the police in Key West—”

  “Key West? That’s way to hell and gone out in the ocean. What have they got to do with this?”

  “Look, Mr. Dekker, Monroe County happens to be one great big empty hunk of swamp run from Key West. And it takes time for anything to be done from there. So don’t you go chasing right off to Crosscut. You call Key West, see how much time it’ll take them—”

  “You call them, Lieutenant,” Jake cut in explosively, “because I’m leaving right now. You call anybody you want, just as long as I’m covered when I get there.”

  59

  The cream-colored Thunderbird parked near the corner of North Bay Road was badly scraped and dented, rust patches showing through the scrapes and dents. Jake pulled up beside it and motioned Dobbs to join him in the Jaguar. Dobbs put his head out of his window and said brightly: “Kind of thought we’d be going in my car, Mr. Dekker. No reason why not. Save yourself gas that way.”

  “Get in here,” Jake said.

  Dobbs resignedly obeyed. “You know the way, Mr. Dekker?”

  “You’ll show me the way.”

  The traffic was heavy until they were past midtown Miami. On the Tamiami Trail, it was heavy until they were clear of the shabby commercial area it cut through inside city limits. After that, there were fewer and fewer cars to be seen along the way.

  The road ran straight to the horizon as if laid out with a ruler, a canal to the right, a flat green waste to the left. Dobbs, an eye on the speedometer which registered a steady fifty miles an hour, shifted restlessly in his seat now and then. Finally he said: “You can open her up now if you want, Mr. Dekker. It’s like this all the way to Ninety-four.”

  “You in any special rush?”

  “No, sir. Not if you ain’t, Mr. Dekker.” Dobbs sat for a while in silence. Then he said hopefully: “I purely wish you didn’t have such hard feelings against me, Mr. Dekker. I tell you the truth, I can’t stand anybody having hard feelings against me.”

  Jake glanced at him. “You’re all heart, aren’t you, Earl?”

  “Maybe you don’t rightly think I am, but that is the truth.”

  “If you line up with me against Gela, I’ll know it’s the truth.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far, Mr. Dekker. But look how I got lined up with him to start with. All of that come from not wanting anybody to have hard feelings against me.”

  Jake said: “Don’t hand me that. You went to him with the story about who Thoren really was. He never came to you about it.”

  “Well now, it shows how even somebody smart as you can get wrong ideas, Mr. Dekker. Fact is, he come to me. I was working the kennels at Flagler track then. Not handling or anything like that, just feeding and cleaning. And somebody pointed me out to Mr. Gela in the stands once, so he come over and asked me what dogs looked good that night, and after that he asked every night about it. So when I got that first money from
Mr. Thoren, and I showed up at Flagler with my new suit and betting twenties instead of twos, Mr. Gela thought I hit some big winners and was holding out on him about them. He had real hard feelings against me because of it. So I went and told him how I got the money, and before I was done I told him all about Mr. Thoren. About him being Stresemann. That is the truth, Mr. Dekker. You think it ain’t, you are misjudging me something awful.”

  Jake said: “Not as far as your brains are concerned. What do you think’ll happen when Gela’s phony company gets hold of the insurance money, and you ask for your share of it? He’d cut his own mother’s throat for a dollar. What do you think he’ll do to you for ten thousand?”

  “Well now, Mr. Dekker—”

  “And I’m still offering you thirty thousand. Honest money. Money you can be sure you’ll get.”

  Dobbs thought it over. Then he regretfully shook his head. “Except for one thing, Mr. Dekker. Him and them people he’s with, they run the works. And that makes his money a lot realer than yours.”

  Route 94 was a straightaway continuation of the Trail where it suddenly angled off northward. A gravel road, washed out in spots. As they passed what looked like a frontier outpost, Dobbs said: “That there’s Pinecrest. Crosscut’s only couple of miles more.”

  It was a slow couple of miles on that washboard road, even slower on the deeply rutted track that diverged from it and plunged into the depths of the swamp. The track wound through stands of cypress and pine, around thickets of underbrush, and ended in a clearing before a large shantylike structure. The building sagged at one end, and its wall there was supported by a pair of two-by-fours braced against it like flying buttresses. Broken panes of glass in its windows had been replaced by cardboard, the sign over its door, Dinty’s Gen’l Store, had been so weathered by time and riddled by buckshot that it was almost illegible.