Night My Friend

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Night My Friend Page 10

by Edward D. Hoch


  “Are you going to discuss it with your wife?”

  “How can I? She’s already barely speaking to me because I went to Rider. Am I going to tell her now that she was right all along about him being a crook?”

  “Are you asking me what you should do, Dave?”

  He wasn’t really. Until that moment he’d been convinced that he’d followed the right course of action. Now she had planted a doubt. “You’d have asked more questions.”

  “Go back and see him again, Dave. Why not?”

  “He’s gone. On his way to Canada.”

  “Maybe not. He might be looking for someone else to make the trip.”

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t be sitting in that hotel room still. How’d he know I wouldn’t come back with the police?”

  “What could you tell the police? What do you know to tell them?”

  “Nothing,” he admitted glumly.

  “Let me call the hotel for you, see if he’s still there.”

  “I don’t know. I’m getting in so deep—”

  “It’s a great deal of money, Dave. Enough to carry you over till you can find a really good job.”

  “Well, I suppose you could call. I know he won’t be there.”

  She rose from her chair. “You said it was the Ames Hotel?”

  “Yes.”

  She stepped into a phone booth near the door and he watched her dialing the number. She spoke a few words and then motioned quickly to him. When he joined her at the booth door she covered the receiver with her hand and said, “He’s still there. I’ve got him on the line. You want to go over?”

  “I—” He felt suddenly weak in the knees.

  “Mr. Green,” she said, returning to the phone. “I’m calling for Dave O’Bannion. He was up to see you this morning. Yes—Yes. Well, he’d like to reconsider your offer.”

  O’Bannion started to protest and then changed his mind. Well, why not? It was five thousand dollars, wasn’t it?

  He took the phone from her and heard the familiar voice of Green in his ear. “I’m glad you’ve reconsidered.”

  “Yes.”

  “You just caught me as I was checking out.”

  O’Bannion grunted.

  “Can we meet someplace else? How about the park behind the library?”

  “All right. What time?”

  “It’s almost six-thirty now. Make it seven o’clock.”

  “Fine. I’ll be there.”

  “Alone.”

  “All right,” O’Bannion agreed without hesitation. He hadn’t even thought about taking Shirl with him.

  He hung up and joined her back at the table. “All set, Dave?”

  “All set. But he wants me to come alone.”

  “Oh.” She seemed disappointed.

  “I could meet you back here after if you’d like.”

  His words brought a smile to her lips. “I’d like.”

  “What about that boy friend?”

  “I’ll call him.”

  He tossed a couple of bills on the table. “Get yourself something to eat. I’ll be back in an hour or so. Maybe sooner.”

  He left her and walked across the street to another bar. There he had a quick drink and phoned Kate at home, making some excuse about a possible job that sounded phoney even to his own ears. Then he started for the little park behind the library, his heart beating with growing excitement. He didn’t know whether the excitement was caused by Green or Shirl or both. He only knew that Kate had no part in it.

  The park was almost dark by seven, lit only by the random lamps in standards twined by ivy. It was a lunchtime spot for summer secretaries, a strolling place for evening couples, a clubhouse for after-dark drifters. Though he was only a hundred feet from the street O’Bannion still had a sense of fear.

  He found Green lounging on a bird-specked bench deep in shadow, his eyes caught by a necking couple across the path. “Look at that,” he said to O’Bannion. “At seven o’clock.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Cigarette?”

  “I’ve got my own, thanks.”

  “Who was the girl?”

  “My secretary.”

  “I thought you were out of a job.”

  “She used to be my secretary.”

  “Oh.”

  “Now what about this deal?”

  Green was grinning in the flare of his match. “You’re ready?”

  “I’m ready.”

  “All right. I have a plane ticket here, round trip to Toronto, leaving tomorrow night at six.”

  “That’s pretty short notice. How long will I have to be away?”

  “A day. You can fly back Wednesday night if you want.”

  O’Bannion ground out his cigarette and lit a fresh one. The couple on the opposite bench had unclinched and she was repairing her lipstick. “What’s the catch? What do I have to do? What’s the deal?”

  “Take a box of candy to a friend of mine.”

  O’Bannion’s hands were steady. “What else?”

  “That’s all. I’ll be there myself to pay you the five thousand.”

  “If you’re going up too, why not take the candy yourself?”

  Green smiled slightly and in the dim light he looked suddenly younger—no older perhaps than O’Bannion. “We don’t need to kid each other. I’ve had trouble with the police. They might stop me at the border. I’m going up on the Thruway and crossing at Niagara Falls. I don’t want them to find anything on me.”

  “What is it?”

  Green looked vague. “That would be telling. You only get the money if the box is delivered intact.”

  It was now or never. This was the moment to back out, to go no further. But instead he simply asked, “As long as it’s not narcotics. I don’t want any part of something like that. O.K.?”

  “No narcotics. What do you take me for anyway?”

  “When do I get the box of candy?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon, four o’clock. Right here.”

  “That doesn’t give me much time to catch the plane.”

  “I don’t want you to have much time. The man will be waiting for you at the airport in Toronto. You give him the candy and then get a room for the night. I’ll probably pull in Wednesday morning and pay you off.”

  “How about part of it now?”

  Green frowned. “I don’t have it. The money’s in Toronto. And there’s no money unless you produce the box, unopened.”

  “Why don’t you just mail it to him?”

  “He’s had police trouble too. They might be watching for something in the mails.”

  “All right,” O’Bannion agreed at last. “I’ll see you here at four.”

  Green left first, walking away fast. O’Bannion watched him go, watched him as in a dream, and wondered what he was getting into. He felt, in that moment, like a man trapped in a muddy bog. There was only Kate to save him, Kate and the children, and they were a world away. Then he remembered Shirl Webster waiting back at the bar and his spirits lifted.

  “Why don’t you come with me?” O’Bannion asked after he’d finished telling Shirl about his conversation with Green.

  “What? Go with you! That’s crazy, Dave. What would people say?”

  “Who needs to know?”

  It was crazy, but he began to think it might not be too crazy. He’d always been faithful to Kate in the nine years of their marriage—always, that is, except once in Boston with a girl he met in a bar. But now something had changed, something in him, or in Kate, or just in the times.

  They talked, debated, argued for the rest of the evening, but he already knew she’d be on the plane with him.

  His excuses to Kate in the morning were vague and uncertain. He would be away overnight, up in—Boston seeing about a job, a really good one right in his line. It was a damp, almost rainy day and the hours dragged till four and he met a trenchcoated Green in the park.

  “Think the planes will be flying?” he asked.

  Green handed over the c
andy, a great flat box with a ribbon tied around it. “Of course the planes’ll be flying. A little rain never stopped them.”

  “This man will be at the airport?”

  “He’ll be there.”

  “How will I know him?”

  Green thought for a moment. “His name is Dufaus. He has a little mustache and he’s always carrying a briefcase. Looks like a government bigwig.”

  “All right. What about you?”

  “I’ll see you sometime before noon. I plan to drive all night. There’s a little motel near the airport. Wait there for me.”

  “How do I know you’ll show up?”

  Green turned away. “Don’t worry. I’m trusting you, you can trust me.”

  “Will Rider be there too?” O’Bannion asked on an impulse.

  “Don’t you worry about Rider. He takes care of himself.”

  Overhead, an unseen jet could be heard through the clouds. The planes were flying.

  They held hands all the way.

  It reminded O’Bannion of a youthful night on a hayride when he’d dated the most popular girl in the senior class for the first time. He’d held hands that night too, thinking and plotting all the way about how he’d work up to that first kiss, that first hand around her shoulders, on her knee. That night had ended disastrously, with the girl going home in a quarterback’s car while O’Bannion sat alone behind the barn and cried for the first time in years. A year later, in college, he’d met Kate and there’d never been anyone else. Not really.

  The weather was cooler when they landed, a clear coolness you didn’t really mind. Above them the sky was full of stars and ahead he could see the flashing red-neoned MOTEL. The letters fuzzed and flickered irregularly as if the sign were tired. There to meet them at the airport was the mustached man with the briefcase, Mr. Dufaus.

  He waited until they’d cleared customs and then he came up smiling. “Ah! O’Bannion?”

  “That’s right. You must be Dufaus.”

  “Correct. Quite correct. I have a car waiting. This way.”

  They followed him to a black foreign-built automobile with low, expensive lines. He motioned O’Bannion into the front seat with him but made no effort to start the car. Instead, he held out his hand. “The candy, please.”

  “No,” O’Bannion said, halfway into the car.

  “What?”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “No candy until I get my money.” O’Bannion hadn’t really planned it that way, but suddenly he had spoken the words and there was no recalling them.

  “You’ll get the money tomorrow. Didn’t he tell you?”

  “He told me. You’ll get the candy tomorrow.”

  Through all of this Shirl had stood behind him on the sidewalk. Now she tried to pull him from the car. “Dave, be careful.”

  O’Bannion backed out of the car, still clutching the candy box. “I’ll be at the motel,” he told Dufaus. “See you in the morning.”

  The man with the mustache was visibly upset. “The money cannot possibly be ready until I’ve had time to inspect the merchandise.”

  “Too bad. I’m sure we can work it out in the morning.”

  O’Bannion slammed the car door and walked quickly away, half pulling Shirl along with him. Dufaus made no attempt to follow.

  “Dave, why did you do that? What’s the matter with you all of a sudden?”

  “Nothing. I just realized that I haven’t decided about this thing yet, not really. I want more time to think. A few hours ago we were in New York, a few days ago I was still an honest man, and a few weeks ago I still had a job. Things are moving too fast for me. Too fast.”

  “Life is fast. We live and die before we know it, much too fast.”

  “Not by tomorrow morning. It’s not over that fast. Let Dufaus sweat about it overnight. If this thing I’m carrying is so valuable, maybe I want to keep it a while.”

  They’d reached the motel, a low, long building of concrete that seemed about to crumble. The manager gave barely a flicker when they checked into a double room.

  “What now?” she asked when they were alone.

  “First things first. I’m going to check this candy. They didn’t give me a chance before. I suppose that’s why Dufaus risked meeting me at the airport—to get the candy before I had an opportunity to exercise my curiosity.”

  He removed the garish ribbon and lifted the lid, to disclose the regular designs of foil-wrapped chocolates. “Nothing but candy,” Shirl observed over his shoulder.

  “Maybe.”

  He unwrapped a piece and studied it. He squeezed with his fingers and broke it open. Inside, darkened and coated by the butterscotch filling, was something sharp and glittering in the light. “It’s a—a jewel. Looks like a diamond. Still in its setting.” He tried another piece of candy and it yielded up the red of a ruby.

  “Dave, what is it?”

  After the third one he answered, “It looks like part of a necklace of some sort. It’s been broken at the links and separated into individual pieces so it could be hidden in the candy. Come on, help me look inside the others.”

  Ten minutes later, with all forty-eight pieces of candy broken open on the bed, they had a rainbow-colored collection of gems, each set in a glistening ring of platinum. “Who’d want to wear a thing like that?” Shirl asked, wide-eyed.

  O’Bannion half remembered something he’d heard or read. “It’s not for wearing, really. It’s a necklace called the Rainbow and its gems are supposed to be worth a quarter of a million dollars. It was stolen a week ago from an armed messenger.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He nodded. “The messenger was killed. I’m into this a little deeper than I figured.” He ran his palm across a forehead suddenly damp with sweat.

  Later, sometime in the hours between midnight and dawn, when the only sound to be heard was the gentle buzz of the electric clock on the far wall, Shirl said, “Do you think they’ll come for us or something? Because you didn’t give them the candy?”

  He laughed and tried to sound amused. “You’ve been seeing too many movies, gal, Nothing’s going to happen.”

  “They killed one man. You said so.”

  “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe these jewels are something else.”

  “You’re not wrong, Dave. If you don’t think anything’s going to happen, why don’t you come to bed?”

  He laughed and lit a cigarette. “I don’t know, maybe I’m shy.” Then, after a moment’s silence, “Tell me about this boy friend of yours, Shirl.”

  “He’s just a guy.”

  “You like him? Well enough to marry him?”

  “Would I be here with you if I did?”

  “I don’t know.” He blew smoke in the direction of the window, watching it as it crossed the single bar of dimly filtered light from outside. “What are you going to tell him when you get back?”

  “I’ll think of something,” she said. “More to the point, what are you going to tell Green and Dufaus in the morning?”

  He thought about it for a long time before answering. “I think I’ll go to the police, Shirl,” he said finally.

  “The police! But—but why?”

  “This is murder. If I don’t get out of it now, it may be too late.”

  “But what about us? What about your wife? Do you want it spread all over the newspapers that we were up here together?”

  “No, of course not. But what else can I do?”

  “Give them their foolish jewels and be done with it. Take the money and just forget about it. That’s what you planned to do originally, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose so, but things have changed.” Suddenly he ground out his cigarette. “All right, let’s get out of here then. We’ll get the jewels to the police somehow without implicating ourselves and be back in the States by noon.”

  But she held him back with her hand. “No, Dave. I’m afraid to go out there. I’m afraid they’ll be waiting for us.”

/>   “I’ll take a look around,” he said and slipped into his jacket.

  Outside, the world was a pale dark landscape sleeping in the full moon’s glow. A car was parked at the head of the driveway. A cigarette-tip glowed like a far-off star. O’Bannion sighed and went back inside.

  “What is it, Dave?”

  “You were right. He’s got somebody watching the place.” He looked out the back window, but decided against risking it with Shirl. There was a twenty-foot drop to the highway. They could hardly make it without a twisted ankle or worse.

  “So?”

  “So we stay till morning and see what happens.”

  The sun was back in the morning, already high in the sky by the time the car drew up outside. O’Bannion had been watching out the window. He saw Dufaus and Green join the man who had been watching the motel throughout the night.

  “Here they come,” he told Shirl without looking at her. “Green’s with them.”

  She came up to the window and stood just behind O’Bannion, watching. “Give them the jewels, Dave. We don’t want trouble.”

  Then they were at the door, knocking. He opened it and looked into Green’s expectant eyes. “Well! I was worried when Mr. Dufaus told me about his troubles. Let’s get this settled now.”

  The two of them crowded into the small room, leaving the third man to wait outside. Green said, “The candy. Where’s the candy?”

  “We were hungry. We ate it,” O’Bannion told them.

  Green’s mouth twisted into an odd sort of grin. “Look, cut out the wise talk. You’ll get your money as soon as Dufaus inspects the candy and gives me the O.K.”

  “I didn’t know I was getting involved in a murder,” O’Bannion said. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

  Dufaus was suddenly agitated. “He knows too much!”

  Green’s hand dropped to his pocket. “All right, we’re finished fooling, O’Bannion. I didn’t let you bring this stuff five hundred miles across the border just so you could double-cross me.”

  His hand was coming out of the pocket when O’Bannion hit him, a glancing blow to the side to the head that tumbled him onto the bed.

  Against the wall, Dufaus uttered a gasp of dismay. “No violence—please! I only want to purchase the gems!”

  O’Bannion moved again, but this time Green was faster. The gun—a small .32—was out of his pocket, pointed at O’Bannion’s middle. “We’re through fooling,” he growled. “Shirl, where did he hide the stuff?”

 

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