The Brass Cupcake

by John D. MacDonald

  “You’re not in any position to make conditions after what you’ve just said,” Guilfarr advised gently.

  “It’s a reasonable condition,” I said. “Listen first and see.” I quickly gave them all the instructions that Johnny had relayed to me. Powy was so slow absorbing it that I had to go through it again. When he nodded to show that he had it straight, I said, “Now, I don’t want anything childish like trying to put a couple of men in my car with me. I’m not risking my neck for this. All I want is a hundred-per-cent recovery on the stones so I can pick up my bonus. I’m getting a reward for taking a risk, but I’m not going to make the risk any greater. Powy runs a small-town police department. It isn’t big enough or smart enough for Florence City.”

  “Now, you looka here!” Powy rumbled.

  “Please shut up,” Guilfarr said. “I agree with Bartells,”

  I went on. “I want this handled in a big-time way. Let’s get a map, a detailed map of that area. That road is eight miles long. They can stop me any place along it. Let’s find out how many men Powy can make available, and see where they can be spotted to seal off the area by land and by water. Then orders have got to be clear and specific. Those men are going to have to be brought to their stations after dark, so as not to make our friends suspicious. Another thing, I’m pretty convinced in my own mind that they’ve been living right here in Florence City, masquerading as tourists, right along. I can’t be seen on the streets today with the law.”

  Guilfarr nodded. “So far you make sense.”

  “I know that area pretty well. To get out of the bay, if they use a boat, they’ll have to go through either Randolph Pass or Sandy Narrow. Two launches with spots can be moved into position after dark to block the two exits. After dark, men can be moved into the brush to block three roads. The other two will have to be a mobile affair, guys rushed in to block off the other two a reasonable time after I’ve started my little tour. Seven groups in all. Fourteen good men could handle it, but it would be risky. Twenty would be ideal. Four on the boats, the other sixteen blocking the roads.”

  “I can arrange that,” Powy said.

  “Now the dough is going to be a problem,” I said, putting a worried tone in my voice. “I get it from the bank at two o’clock. I’ve got to assume that I may be tailed, and it’s going to be damn rough arranging to mark that currency in case they slip through Powy’s hands. The split will be about this way: Fifteen hundred hundred-dollar bills, no serial sequence, all used currency; two thousand fifties; and twenty-five hundred twenties. Six thousand separate bills. On used bills you can figure they’ll stack at about a hundred to the inch. That’ll give you the size of the bundle—a rectangle of eight stacks seven or eight inches deep. Just about the size of a case for a portable typewriter. It’ll be wrapped in white cloth so that it won’t split when I throw it out. Maybe you could get a man into the bank to see about either recording serial numbers or using one of those infrared dyes or something before I have to pick it up at two o’clock.”

  Guilfarr seemed to be half asleep. He said, “Rather than take that sort of risk, Bartells, I think we’d best concentrate on sewing up that area so that there’ll be no chance of losing the money.”

  “The company will be very grateful for getting it back,” I pointed out. “You see, then there’ll be no loss at all on the policy. Even for a big company like ours it means something.”

  “Of course, of course,” Guilfarr said.

  I looked at Powy. There was a dew of perspiration on his upper lip in spite of Guilfarr’s air conditioning.

  “These people are professionals?” Guilfarr asked.

  “I’m convinced of it. Usually it’s a couple working together, sometimes one, almost never three.”

  “Odd that they should kill the old lady,” Guilfarr murmured.

  “It is out of character. They usually don’t like to make themselves that hot. And there didn’t seem to be much point in it. She couldn’t have put up much of a fight.”

  “We want to thank you, Bartells, for seeing your duty as a citizen and for being willing to forget—ah—any ill will you might feel toward the department.”

  “Thank you, Commissioner.”

  “If this goes well we may wish to reconsider your resignation of a few years ago.”

  “Thank you, Commissioner.”

  He studied me with those green eyes. “I feel that you may have learned something since you’ve been away from the department. I feel that you may be more—shall we say tolerant, Bartells.”

  “Any way that I can co-operate…”

  “Where will you be, Bartells?”

  “Mr. Myers will go to the bank with me and then he will have to stay with me until I make the transfer. I imagine he’ll insist on riding with me out to where I make the turn. He feels his responsibilities. We’ll take the money to the office from the bank, and I imagine he’ll want to keep the office open until it’s time to go.”

  “Will you need any police protection while the money is there?”

  I showed him the butt of the special. “Both Mr. Myers and I are licensed to carry these, you remember.”

  “Of course, of course,” he murmured. He placed both hands flat on the top of his desk and gave me the smile for the voters. “I really don’t think that we need arouse anyone’s suspicion by contacting you again. You go through the routine just as you have told us you would. Chief Powy and I will see that there is no slip-up. You can depend on us, Bartells.”

  They both smiled me to the door. At the door I paused with my hand on the knob. “By the way, Commissioner, Miss Chance would appreciate it if Mrs. Franklin could be released to help her with Mrs. Stegman’s personal belongings. Are there any charges?”

  Guilfarr raised a questioning eyebrow at Powy.

  “They put her in the hospital wing for observation. Far as I know, she’s O.K. She was booked on an open charge. We’ll make it disturbing the peace and let her go if you say so, Commissioner.”

  Guilfarr gave me a surprisingly brilliant smile. “Glad to co-operate, Bartells.”

  “Thank you, Commissioner.”

  When Harry Banson answered his phone, I hung up and hurried out there and parked in front of the small white frame house.

  He stared at me through the screen. “Damn it to hell, Cliff! Why are you parking right in front of—”

  I pulled the screen open. “Relax. The Commissioner and I are like this.”

  He backed away and let me in. Angela came running out of the kitchen, shrieking, “Cliff! Oh, Cliff!” She held my hand hard in both of hers. She looked wonderful, the tears spilling over her eyelids. “Cliff, Ah’m all well! Ah’m home!”

  Harry stood beaming at us, his eyes suspiciously moist.

  The phone rang and he went and got it. I talked softly to Angela, and she babbled about how wonderful it was to be back and how Harry had met her and about the plane ride. I could hear the hard note of excitement in Harry’s voice as he talked into the phone.

  He came back out into the hall. “Run along a minute, Angie.”

  She gave him a dubious look and went back into the kitchen, glancing back at us with a puzzled expression. Harry’s nails made a wiry sound against his bristly chin as he scratched and kneaded it. “Now I can figger how they love you all of a sudden.”

  “So?”

  He studied me. “It don’t sound right, somehow. It don’t sound like you.”

  “Everybody gets smart sooner or later.”

  “I heard that Bobby and Nick worked you over. They sure enjoyed it. I didn’t figure you to fold after a little workout like that.”

  He went after something caught in a back tooth with a black-rimmed fingernail, never taking his eyes off me.

  “What are they giving you?” I asked.

  “They didn’t say. I got to go down there.”

  “Harry, I came out here for one thing. And God help me if I’m wrong. I know how rough things have been. And I know how you’ve handled yourself.
I’m just saying one thing—and one thing only. This is going to be a hell of a poor time to lower your sights, Harry.”

  He looked at me and the confusion was etched deeply on his face. “I know what you’re trying to say, but I can’t figure how—”

  “Don’t try to figure it, Harry. Just do a cop’s job in a good cop’s way.”

  The slow grin came. And then he giggled, a surprising whinnying sound. “I don’t know how, but I’m too damn happy about thinking about all the things that could happen to be sore at you for thinking that I’d…”

  “Don’t go holy on me. There can always be a first time for everybody, especially if it looks very safe and very easy and everybody is getting theirs and you’re the only one left out.”

  We went out into the kitchen and talked some more and then Harry had to leave. The grouchy sister was gone, and already the towheaded kids were beginning to lose that wary look they’d acquired during the long absence of Angie.

  At a quarter of twelve I drove back into town. I thought of Melody, and of her instinct for rebellion. I cruised by the hotel, circled the block, gave up, and parked.

  She answered the house phone immediately. “Darling!” she said.

  “You’re being good? You’re staying in there?”

  Her voice was mock humble. “I have my orders, don’t I?”

  “I could come up and steal your clothes to make sure.”

  “Fascinating idea! Hurry up here!”

  The line went dead. I went up to the room. I knocked.

  “Who is it?”

  “Cliff, of course!”

  “Sorry, but I can’t let anyone in.” I heard her laugh and then she flung the door open and catapulted into my arms, still laughing, the silvery hair tickling my face and throat.

  I made her sit down. She put on a solemn childish look.

  “Did anyone try to see you, Melody?”

  “Furny phoned. He apologized for the way he acted the other day. He said that he must have been half crazy with disappointment. He told me that he was just trying to frighten me. He said that he knows that I couldn’t have had anything to do with Aunt Elizabeth’s death. He sounded very humble. He wanted to come up here and talk to me. I told him no. Then he got very silly. He got all choked up.”

  “Don’t fall for his act. Keep him out of here.”

  She stood up quickly. “Cliff. Let me be serious. I’m going half crazy wondering about you. You can’t let anything happen to you. I’ll be corny. I lost Dave. I thought my heart would never mend. But it did, finally. But it couldn’t mend twice.”

  “It’ll be over soon.”

  She stamped her foot. “Nothing you have to do can be that important. Whatever it is, give it up! It’s me—Melody—asking my man. Asking Cliff. Saying please.”

  “I’m in too far to stop now. And for the first time I’d be glad to stop.”

  “Money will buy you out of anything. And I have money. Or I soon will have. I talked to Rainey on the phone. He’s leaving this afternoon. He’ll have that codicil set aside. I have to use a different law firm to do that. He says that it’s only a matter of a few months. Can’t we buy you out of this trouble, whatever it is?”

  I took her hands. “No, honey.”

  She snatched her hands away. “Then get out of here! Go on out and play tin soldier. Go on out and beat yourself on the chest.”

  I shrugged and went to the door. She caught me at the door. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it, Cliff.”

  “Just keep your fingers crossed. Everything will be fine.”

  She kissed me, hard. “Be careful. For me.”

  “I’m indestructible.”

  I pulled the door shut and waited until I heard the clatter of the cross chain. I tried to shake her out of my mind. It was no good. She was stuck there. Tightly. Forever. Half brat and half angel. Domineering, lusty, sensitive, eager, imaginative. Life with her was going to be an emotional roller coaster. And I knew that I wanted a long fast ride.

  And if the little men with the horseshoes decided to cross me up, the only part of her I would take out of life would be the ever vivid memory of one Sunday. And how many people ever carry even that much away with them?

  Rainey was in the grillroom. He nodded to me and motioned me over. He was just ordering. I sat down in the booth opposite him.

  He coughed and squirmed, intensely embarrassed. “Mr.—uh—Bartells, I’ve been talking with Miss Chance.”

  I wanted to help the guy. All I could do was wait, with an attentive expression.

  “She told me the glad news. I mean—you and she—”

  “If you’re congratulating me, thanks.”

  He pulled at his collar and swallowed. “She has no one, you know. I felt it my duty to act as a—as an adviser. You’ll forgive me, I’m sure. Emotional upset. Uh—time to acquire stability. Very important, you know. I told her it would be wiser to wait a few months to be sure, rather than to rush—ah—into a hasty marriage with someone we… have just met.” He was gasping like a fish out of water and his eyes were agonized. “With the money, it’s hard to tell what…”

  I wanted to pat his hand and comfort him.

  “Mr. Rainey, you are a very nice guy. Melody and I are fond of you. I know what you’re going to do as soon as you get back. You’re going to feel it your duty to get a complete agency report on me. Five pages of single-spaced typewritten dirt. I’ll tell you right now. That report will give you plenty of ammunition to go to work on Melody with. It’ll be a nice effort and you’ll feel better for having made it. And it’s going to be O.K. with me for you to try. Now I’ve got a request for you. Can you stay over a couple of days?”

  “Why, I don’t know, I…”

  “Suppose I tell you Melody might need a helping hand, badly, in the next forty-eight hours.”

  “Then of course I’ll stay,” he said firmly.

  “Now let’s eat.”

  Arthur was tap dancing by the vice-president’s desk behind the low oak fence when I went into the bank. His complexion was like fresh window putty.

  I pushed the gate open and went back. The VP pressed a button on his desk and nodded to me. He pushed the form over to Arthur, saying, “Now if you’ll please sign that, Mr. Myers.”

  Arthur made his flowing signature as the guard came from the back of the bank with the canvas sack. I put the suitcase Arthur had brought on the edge of the desk and opened it. The sack of money was dumped in and we pressed the cover down until it clicked. Arthur looped the chain around the handles, and then his hand was shaking so badly he couldn’t lock it around his wrist, and I had to do it.

  “We can supply a guard,” the VP said.

  “Not necessary,” I told him, and shushed Arthur. Already the front doors of the bank were locked, with the guard standing by to let the last customers out.

  It was three blocks from the bank to the office. Arthur walked in the middle of the sidewalk, his eyes darting nervously from side to side. It was a respectable piece of change.

  15

  KATHY and Andrew Hope Maybree stayed with Arthur and me after office hours. The money had been counted, wrapped in white sheeting, and stowed in Arthur’s safe.

  It was painfully obvious that Kathy was not speaking to Maybree. Her face had settled into sullen lines that looked habitual. Her little body seemed to be sagging with a weariness that was more of the soul than of the muscles.

  The four of us sat around, and whenever the big clock on the wall made an electric one-minute jump, we all started.

  Kathy sighed and went to her desk and dug out some papers and began typing. Her brown fingers flew over the keys with machine-gun speed. I hitched my chair over next to Maybree’s. He gave me a look of quiet disgust.

  “Go on,” I said in a low tone to him, “keep being a doormat. Keep begging and pleading. I like to see it. She’ll keep brushing you off forever.”

  “It was you all the time,” he said in a low tone. “You, you! Not me.”


  Arthur stared at us, his little mouth open.

  “Go get a drink of water, Arthur,” I told him. He got up obediently and went over to the inverted bottle in the corner.

  “Not me either, Maybree. Use your head. With her it was just time going by too fast. We’ve been good pals, she and I. But not the way you’re thinking. Now she’s got to be pushed around a little. What are you going to do? Take a stab at it for luck, or let her go out of the picture for keeps?”

  It worked on him like one of those sagging little wooden dogs where you push the button on the bottom of the pedestal. Slowly his shoulders straightened and his chin came up. His chest swelled and his eyes narrowed.

  “Right now,” I said. “Go to it.”

  He stood up and stalked over to Kathy. Arthur came back and sat down. “What’s going on here in my office?”

  “Don’t interfere, Arthur.”

  She wouldn’t look up at him. She kept typing. “Kathy!” he roared at her, so loudly that Arthur nearly fell off his chair. Kathy stared up at him.

  “I want to talk to you!” he said, grabbing her by the wrist.

  He dragged her out of the chair and she squealed and tried to bite the back of his hand. He cuffed her upright and yanked her into my office. The door slammed behind them but the light didn’t go on.

  Her voice came to us, shrill and excited, then abruptly interrupted. Once Arthur winced at the ringing impact of open palm on flesh. His voice was loud at first and then it slowly grew so quiet that we couldn’t hear it any more.

  The silence lasted. Then the office door opened and they came out. Maybree had his chin up and he wore the conqueror’s smile. He tugged Kathy along behind him. The sullen look was all gone from her face. Her dark eyes were aglow.

  Maybree marched over to us. “Arthur,” he said, “Kathy and I are going to have to have time off for a honeymoon. Ten days will be enough, starting a week from today.”

  Kathy looked up at Maybree, her eyes adoring.

  “Why—ah—sure!” Arthur said.