My face worked itself into a grimace and I went on up. The post and the carpet was as I had expected. The door that made the steady slam was the warped one that wouldn’t close all the way.
The room where the body had lain was closed off, but not locked and I went in half expecting to see it still there, the head cradled in the arms, face down.
But it wasn’t the same. Not nearly.
Somebody had taken that room apart piece by piece and stacked all the bits in the middle. The bed, the dresser and the chair had been disassembled and a knife had made a tattered farce out of the mattress. Rayon satin ribbon from the blanket edgings were confetti unfurled on the floor.
The baseboard had been pried loose and jutted out awkwardly. I struck a match and looked in the closet. The cedar paper that lined it had been torn off and lay piled up on the floor. Dents in the plaster showed where something heavy had tapped around seeking out a hollow space.
It was a better job that I could have done. A much better job. So good that there wasn’t any place left to look.
The match burned down and I lit another one.
I cursed under my breath.
At one time the answer had been here. It hadn’t been too long ago. There was photographic evidence that would have pointed the finger straight at the one who counted and now it was gone.
I said, “damn it to hell!”
The voice standing in the doorway said, “That’s the way we felt too. Keep your hands where they are and turn around. Do it slow. Do everything slow. That is, if you wanta keep on living.”
And there was that little bastard of an Eddie Packman with a snub-nosed rod in his fist and the pimply-faced boy from the Ship ’n Shore behind him backing the play with his automatic.
The pencil beam of the flash in the kid’s hand ran up and down my body looking for bulges under my clothes. It passed close enough to Eddie’s arm to be reflected off the cast he wore.
The kid said, “He looks clean, Eddie.”
“Go see, you jerk,” Eddie snarled. “You oughta know by now. Give me the light.” He took it out of the kid’s hand and stuck it in the fingers that dangled out of the cast.
Trying to be casual didn’t come easy to the kid. He sidled crabwise over to me, ran his hands over my pockets, patted my chest and stepped back. “I told you he was clean,” he said sneeringly. The rod in his hand gouged into the small of my back. “Go ahead, tough guy, start walking.”
So I walked. Eddie drew back in the doorway and let me go by. “You can try and run for it if you like. Don’t think I won’t give it to you here or anyplace else.”
His beady eyes glowed at me. They were narrow and mean and almost praying I’d do something that was excuse enough to start shooting. He looked like a rat, his face drawn out in a thin-lipped snarl that showed the uneven edges of his teeth.
Like rats, all right. That’s why they were so damned quiet. They must have frozen the minute I came in and stayed that way until I had walked into their hands.
The kid poked me again and said, “We knew you’d be here. You’re a sucker.”
“Shaddup, you,” Eddie spit out.
Pimples was new at being tough. He didn’t like to get yelled at. “Shut your own mouth. Who the hell you think you are?”
Eddie taught him a quick lesson with the end of his rod. I heard it hit bone and the kid let out a sob that choked off in his throat. He didn’t need a second lesson. He sobbed all the way down and out to Eddie’s sedan where he got in under the wheel holding a bloody handkerchief to his face.
I got the place of honor. In the back seat with Eddie’s gun a cold spot under my ribs. He sat facing me with his leg under him, a laugh pulling the sneer off his face. He looked at me until the car got started then before I saw what he was going to do the cast came around and smashed against the side of my head with a sickening crack that almost churned my guts up in my mouth before I lost all feeling and dropped into a black well of unconsciousness.
My head pounded with every beat of my heart. It hung forward, limply ready to fall if my hands let go of what they were holding. But the hands weren’t holding anything. They were balls of meat tied together behind the back of the chair, senseless things that dangled at the end of my arms. I opened my eyes and watched the fuzzy, distorted angles under my head take shape until they were my legs. My foot twitched spasmodically and moved an inch. I was glad they weren’t tied too.
Whatever lit the room had a yellow glow to it. I made my eyes travel across the rough woodwork of the floor until they met the opposite wall, then down the side to a chair, and another chair, across again to the middle and the four legs of a table.
On the table was an old-fashioned kerosene lamp. The wick was turned too high and the smoke was making a black doughnut on the dirty cracked plaster ceiling. There was a door in the wall on the other side of the room. It was a substantial-looking door that was closed tightly against the jam.
It was still raining outside. It made a drumming noise someplace overhead, occasionally slashing in waves against the side of the building. I sat there letting my head clear, listening to the outside trying to get in and above it all heard a faint slap-slap of water licking at something that held it back. I could smell it too. The river.
Me and the river. We were both alone.
I tried my legs, starting to stand up. The chair rose with me an inch or so but no further. The rope that tied my hands tied the chair to something too. For no reason at all I wondered what time it was. Suddenly not being able to see my watch was more important than anything else. I sat down again and strained against the ropes, and when that didn’t work wiggled them enough to get the circulation started again.
That made it worse than before. They weren’t senseless chunks of meat any longer. They were raw, screaming nerve ends that pulsated with pure agony. I cursed and clamped down on my lip until the taste of blood was in my mouth. I could feel the sweat rolling down my face until it dripped off my chin. The drops made patterns between my feet.
After ten minutes or maybe thirty it passed and became a dull, throbbing ache, but at least there was some feeling in the ends of my fingers. They were wet with blood from where the ropes bit into the skin.
Every position hurt. The best I could do was lean forward like I was when I came awake and stare at the floor. I got tired of watching the floor and looked at my legs. The underside of my right thigh was pretty damn sore. I moved and it stopped hurting some.
But I moved it back where it was in case somebody came in and decided to search me again. The last time they hadn’t noticed the gun in that out-of-place pocket.
Me and the rod. We would have made a good combination if my hands weren’t useless lumps behind me. Great. Useless. Me, I was useless to. I walked head-on into it. I should have known as soon as I saw that room. I should have flattened myself on the floor with the rod cocked and waited for them to come in. I should have done a lot of things.
Now look.
So I sat and thought how nice they had me trapped. Now nobody would ever know. I’d know, but I’d be dead. A few other people would know, but they were the ones who wanted me dead.
Five years, a thousand miles. I had come a long way to wind up in a chair with my hands strapped together and the river close enough to smell. Soon they’d be coming in and they’d look at me and I’d look at them, but they’d be the ones to laugh. I’d just sit here until I was dead.
Maybe somebody would find my body and figure out how it happened. Unlikely. Very unlikely. I wished I could know the whole story before I died. I’d like that. I’d sure like to know how close I was.
I could see the angles now.
Before Lyncastle there was Lenny Servo and a girl named Gracie Harlan. She was a show girl until the breaks got rough, then she tied in with Lenny. They played tricks with the money boys and picked up an income with the con game. Con with sex thrown in. No matter how smart they are it always works. That is, always until somebody has sense enough
to squawk.
For that she served time, but it didn’t keep her from wanting to go back in business. Lenny found the heat on in the East and looked around for a spot to operate in. He was a clever character, he was. He found Lyncastle. But he was broke when he found it and didn’t have the connections that could put up big money fast.
Hell, that wasn’t any trouble for Lenny. He put the squeeze on a kid named Johnny McBride. He must have been pretty cute about it. Harlan sexed Johnny into a spot that would have ruined him, then Lenny came across with the suggestion that he lift some funds from the bank for the purpose of financing his operations.
The son of a bitch even had some insurance. He must have been big-time-Charlying Vera West in the meantime until she was on his side and when the bust came Johnny ran to save her neck, not his own!
That Bob Minnow must have been a sharp article too. With Lenny paying off the police and bribing the town into liking the whole setup he had to be. In fact, everybody was on their toes. Harlan, she played it real cute. She found out in a hurry that when Lenny got to be top dog she was deadwood. She was the weak link that could spoil his pretty chain.
So Harlan took out some insurance too. She wrote Bob Minnow a letter and he filed it away. That was the catch. He wasn’t to open it until she died, but at one point in his investigation of Lenny Servo he learned that he was connected with Harlan.
Maybe he suspected the truth. He went ahead and opened the letter anyway and found out he was right. He went out and had it photostated in case something happened to the original. He wasn’t taking any chances on his safe being cracked again.
Just thinking about it put everything right out where I could see it. The insurance wasn’t any good to Harlan unless she let Lenny know what she did. That way he couldn’t afford to knock her off. He had to get the letter back first. Quick, too.
It was quick. Minnow double-checked to verify his source and when the letter came in with the verification he didn’t lose any time getting things started. He went down to his office, but somebody who knew where he’d be and knew damn well he’d have that letter along, passed the word up the line and there was a guy waiting for him.
Me, I said to myself. No, Johnny. Maybe he went there to spill the works to the D. A. and got panicky. Sure, a guy on the run wouldn’t be thinking straight, would he? Hell no! So he got a gun from somewhere in case somebody tried to pick him up and went up to see Minnow.
Panicky. It was hard to picture Johnny getting panicky. The guy was cold as ice no matter what he did.
Feet stamped outside. Metal rasped against metal and a voice swore softly. A door opened and shut and the feet pounded on the floor. Then the door across the room was pushed inward and Lenny Servo was there, his hat spilling water past his eyes. There was a scab on his lip and his face was still swollen. Eddie Packman and the kid were right behind him. Eddie carried a gun. Lenny kept his hands in his pockets while he stared at me, then tossed his hat on the table and shrugged out of his raincoat.
I knew just what was going to happen and the only thing I could do was spit right in his face before Lenny’s hand snapped my head back.
He said, “You stinking bastard!” and hit me again. He kept it up until his knuckles were bloody then he kicked me in the shins with the toe of his shoe and laughed while I vomited bile on the floor.
“You shoulda wore a glove, Lenny,” Packman said. “Now look at your mitt.”
Lenny didn’t answer him. He was looking straight at me, his breath whistling in and out through his teeth. “Where is she, damn you!”
My mouth felt like a puffball of swollen flesh. “Who?”
“Vera! Damn it, you better start talking.”
I said two words to him and they weren’t good night.
Eddie said, “He won’t talk. He’s a tough guy.”
Lenny seemed to relax. He rubbed his knuckles and backed to the table. He liked that pose, perching on the corner with one leg swinging. “That’s right. Tough. I never thought he’d be so tough.”
“He got medals for it in the army,” Eddie said. I brought my head up and it was my turn to stare. I had that creepy sensation again.
Lenny’s eyes were black beads of hate. He was hating me so hard he could hardly get the words between his teeth. “Remember what I told you five years ago? I told you to get out of town and never stop running. I told you once that I’d let Eddie work you over with a knife until there was nothing left but ribbons if you came back and you came back anyway.
“You were scared then, McBride. You knew damn well I wasn’t kidding. You forgot too much. Or did you wonder if I meant it? Now you can find out. Eddie’s got a nasty mind. He likes to see blood run. He likes to start it going with that knife of his and stand there and watch it drip. That’s why I keep Eddie around. People know what he’s like and they never go too far with me.
“Except you, McBride. You had to be one of the wise ones. You and a few others. Now you’ll see how stupid you were in ever coming back.”
Eddie grinned and tossed the gun on the table. It lay there beside the light while he reached in his pocket. The thing didn’t show in his hand until he pressed the button, then the blade jumped out between his fingers, the carefully honed blade the only bright spot in the room.
I got smart for the last time. I said, “You ought to be happy. Three times you tried and now you’re finally going to make out.”
The two of them looked at each other and Eddie shrugged. Lenny cursed silently and lit a cigarette. His hand was still bleeding. He said, “Show him.”
He stepped over and cut a notch out of my right ear. Then the left ear. Pimples got sick to his stomach and Eddie laughed his head off. He said, “Now we’ll have some fun,” and started to unbuckle my belt.
Everybody heard the car brake to a stop outside. The door slammed and a guy came in dripping rain all over the place. He was tall and skinny and wore a gun belt over his raincoat. He looked at the kid who was still sick and over to me. The sight didn’t bother him a bit.
“I got the dame outside,” he said.
Lenny came off the table. “Where was she?”
“Trying to hitch a ride along the highway about eight miles out. She must have been in town all this time.”
“Bring her in.” He waved his thumb at the kid. “You go help him.”
They forgot about me. Even Bloody Eddie. The two of them stood in the doorway waiting for the others to come back. The car doors slammed again and the tall guy came in carrying a woman in a torn gray trench coat. He threw her in a chair and the bandanna came off her head.
Lenny had found Troy Avalard.
There wasn’t much beautiful about her now. Her hair was a soggy mess that was plastered to the sides of her face. She has two long scratches along one cheek and her top lip was a nasty blue color. Her eyes were a dull gaze that reflected the terror she felt, coming to life only when they saw Lenny.
He smacked her across the jaw with his open palm and knocked her right out of the chair. “Isn’t this nice? Isn’t this just plain lovely?” He laughed through his words and hauled her back on the chair. “Now we’re almost finished, It’s too bad Harlan had to do the Dutch or we could have made a real party out of it.”
“Lenny ...”
“Shut up, you lousy little tart. I’ve been just waiting for this chance. You don’t think I would have let you get away, do you? You don’t think I’d let you take me for a pile then let you slip out of my fingers. You could do those things when Harlan was alive and get away with it. Not now.” His hand caught her again, this time in the mouth. The chair rocked over backward and she lay there on the floor, her arm up in front of her face.
She tried to scream. He bent down, pulled her arm away and smashed her again. “Lenny! Don’t ... oh mother ... don’t!” She cowed against the wall without being able to get away from his hand. She was screaming and sobbing, scrambling on her hands and knees, only to be tripped up by the chair.
It was Lenny who k
nocked her free. She rolled, her dress up to her waist, clawing at the floor as she pulled herself over to me. Her arms grabbed the legs of the chair frantically while the curses poured out of her mouth. They subsided into a long, broken sob that racked her body.
Lenny was smiling. He was happy. He walked to the table, picked up the gun and checked the chamber. His eyes met mine and the smile drew up into a sneer. “You won’t die without company, Johnny. You know why she’s going to die with you?”
I knew, but I sooner hear him tell it.
Lenny saw the knowledge in my face. “You have a brain, kid, Sure, she knew Harlan. They were in the same act once. She knew why Harlan was sent up and figured the play was the same here as back East. She put the bite on me.” He leered evilly. “Sometimes I got my money’s worth back. Sometimes,” he said.
He took a short step forward, sighted the barrel of the rod at her head and his hand tightened on the trigger.
I said, “All her dough’s going to her next of kin, Servo. Your dough. It’s in the bank and some aunt or uncle will get it. Maybe fifty grand.”
All the eyes were turned on me. It got so quiet I could hear Pimples trying to keep his stomach in place. A flush seeped into Lenny’s face while a vein on the side of his neck bulged against his collar.
The knife blade in Eddie’s hand flicked open and shut a couple of times. “The hell with it. Let it stay there.”
“No!” He showed his teeth to me. “I said the tough boy has a brain, Eddie. You should be so smart. Somebody will be looking for Troy one of these days. If she cleared out on her own it wouldn’t be likely that she’d leave all that dough in the bank.” He half turned his head over his shoulder. “Eddie ... you know where the bankbooks are in the apartment. Go get them. Bring a withdrawal slip too.”
“How the hell am I gonna drive with this wing?”
“Lobin can drive.”
The tall guy grunted his assent.
Pimples said, “I’d just as soon go too. I don’t feel so good.”
The Long Wait Page 23