Murder Money

by Jay Bennett

  Eddie’s voice suddenly snapped. “I didn’t mean to steal it. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do with it. I just didn’t take to the cabbie, that’s all. That’s the reason I hid it.”

  “Okay, if that’s the way you want it.”

  “That’s the way I want it.”

  Eddie’s voice rose and filled the narrow room and then died away. A stillness hovered about the two of them. Finally there was the scratch and flare of a match as Al lighted a cigarette. The blue smoke wavered over the brief case.

  “I figure it happened so fast the Spanish guy had no time to jot down the license number. That right?”

  Eddie started to walk up and down the gloomy room, his big shadow striding along the wall. His hands hung open and slack at his sides. Al rolled the cigarette along his lips and watched him.

  “Anything about the cab the guy would recognize?”

  Eddie stopped by the window. The sky was like lead, the snow whirling against it.

  “One of those yellow cabs. There’s thousands of them in the city.”

  “Any marks on it? Anything that would tip it off?”

  “The back fender was smashed in.”

  “No good,” Al said. “What about the driver?”

  “Name’s Frank Morse. Lives over on East Eighty-sixth Street. I saw it on the hackie license.”

  “Frank Morse. Ever seen him around before? Around the Garden?”

  Eddie shook his head. “But he seemed to know me.”

  “What?”

  “Said he saw me fight. Knew my name.”

  Al slapped the case viciously. Then he ground the cigarette into the oilcloth of the table.

  “That’s no goddam good, Eddie. No goddam good. They find him, they find you.”

  He got up and went over to the sink and turned on the water hard. It thudded into the basin, its harsh sound choking the room. Then he filled a glass and drank thirstily.

  “They didn’t find me yet,” Eddie said.

  The water drummed and stopped suddenly. Al set the glass back into place and turned sharply.

  “Because your luck’s still holding out. It’s like a dice game and you’ve hit a streak.” The wetness glistened on his lips as he spoke, his brown eyes cold and piercing. “But streaks end, Eddie.”

  “They end,” Eddie said.

  Al’s eyes flashed and his voice rose. “But we’re going to keep this one going. And the best way is to get the hell out of here.”

  “Where?”

  Al suddenly spun away from the sink and came close to Eddie. His hand gestured sharply as he spoke. “Out of the city. Any place out. South. Yeah, south. We’ll fly down to Miami and stay there. The main thing is to get out. You’ve stayed here too long already. You should’ve called me four days ago.”

  “Four days ago I didn’t know what I wanted,” Eddie said.

  “But now you do.”

  Eddie stared at the taut eager face, and then he said slowly, “Yeah, AL Now I do.”

  “That’s the way to talk. All right, I’ll get to this Frank Morse and see that he keeps his mouth shut.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Money will do it, Eddie. We got money now. But we’re not going to touch the big bundle yet. Let that stay sweet as it is. I’ll dig into some of mine. Fair enough?”

  “Think you’ll find him?”

  “I’ll find him. Come on, let’s drink on it.”

  He slapped Eddie on the chest and went over to the table and picked up the bottle. His hand shook as he poured the drinks. His eyes stared at the brown, motionless case.

  “It’s starting to get me, Eddie. I’m beginning to know what you went through, sitting here alone with all this dough.”

  They drank swiftly, and Eddie laughed as he set his glass down. “We’ll make it, Al, won’t we? It’s a find, isn’t it? A real find.”

  “You bet we’ll make it, kid. Didn’t I steer you right through the years? Didn’t I?”

  “You did, Al. You did. That’s why I’m calling you in for your cut. We split down the middle, pal. Down the middle.”

  Al laughed and tilted the bottle again. “Down the middle. Fifty grand apiece. That’s a lot of cabbage. The best purse you ever had, eh Eddie?”

  Eddie grabbed his glass and drank. A thin line of sweat broke over his forehead. His gray eyes twinkled. The scar on Al’s face began to look sharp and fiery. His eyes glistened.

  “We’ll do it, kid,” Al said. “I’m going to call Laura and have her make the plane reservations. We’ll hit a jet down. We’ll be there in no time.” He patted the big fellow and started for the living room.

  “Al. No Laura.”

  Al stopped.

  “No Laura,” Eddie repeated.

  “We need her; don’t you understand that?”

  “We don’t need her.”

  “Are you going to let me handle this or not?”

  “I don’t like Laura in it.”

  Eddie stood, his two feet planted wide, his body swaying just a bit. But the face was cold and rigid. Al came over to him.

  “Eddie, she’ll never know about it. I swear to you. We’re the only two who’ll be in on this. That’s our deal. Wasn’t it always that way? Wasn’t it, pal?”

  “I don’t like someone, I don’t like someone. And that’s it.”

  “But you can’t do anything about it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I just can’t take off without her. I’ve lived with her too long, you damn fool. She’ll get wise that something’s up.”

  “No,” Eddie said doggedly.

  “Yes. Yes. Let me play it my way, will you, Eddie? Ill tell her we won a grand on the races and we want to go down to Miami and have a good time. Leave it to me. I know how to handle her.”

  Eddie turned away from him and sat down heavily on one of the chairs. He leaned forward, his eyes staring at the wall, his face still grim.

  “Eddie. Eddie. Eddie, I’m no good without her. I’m leveling with you. I won’t be able to think straight away from her. We’ll only end up in the soup.”

  Eddie passed his hand wearily over his clammy face and was silent. Al came closer to him, and then rubbed his brown hair tenderly. He swayed as he talked. “Let me take her along. Eddie, we’re dealing with hoods. We make wrong moves they’ll cut our guts out for us. I gotta think on target all the time. All the time. Eddie, let me take her along. She’s good luck, I tell you. She really is.”

  “Yeah. She’s luck.”

  “I tell you we need her. You’ll see how it’ll work out. You’ll thank me for bringing her along.”

  Eddie kept staring ahead of him, his eyes weary and somber.

  “Eddie.”

  “I’m beginning to hate the money,” Eddie said.

  Al suddenly moved away from him and began pounding the table. “All right, then the hell with it. I don’t want it either. If I got to ditch Laura then I don’t want it. The hell with it!” He stopped and the room was filled with silence again. Outside the snow flaked down with a steady iron rhythm.

  Eddie looked away from the drab wall to the gleaming brief case. “We’ll take Laura,” he said.

  The snow flaked down.

  It was just before the fall of night that Al returned.

  “I got to him,” he said. “I got to Morse.”

  “And?”

  “He’s in our corner.”

  “You sure?” “I’m sure.”

  “How much did it cost?”

  Al took two shots of liquor, one after another, before he replied. “Plenty,” he said.

  He sat, staring at the table, his finger tracing along the patterns of the oilcloth. There was a withdrawn air about him, as though his mind and being were concentrated elsewhere, darkly concentrated.

  “Five bills, Eddie.”

  “Five?”

  “Yeah. I told him some Spic hoods were after you. For throwing a fight. He won’t talk.”

  “What if they get to him?”<
br />
  “They won’t. He’s going upstate for a few weeks. Got a brother up there. He’s taking himself a vacation. That’s why he wanted five bills.”

  “You look a little beat, Al,” Eddie said.

  “Five bills is a lot of dough.”

  Then he looked over to the brief case and began to smile again. There was a hard glitter in his eyes. “Hundred grand,” he muttered.

  His fist closed about the narrow neck of the whisky bottle. He poured himself two quick shots. Wiped his lips. “We got a hundred grand there, huh Eddie?”

  “We got it,” Eddie said,

  “You packed?”

  “Been waiting hours for you, Al.”

  “It took time,” Al said. “Time.”

  Then, for no apparent reason, he began to laugh. A harsh, disjointed laugh. And Eddie thought the liquor was finally getting to him. The laughter suddenly stopped. “Come on,” Al said. Let’s get down to that airport and out of this murderous town.”

  The snow lashed like rain against the windows of the little apartment.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It was while he was waiting for the plane that Eddie began reading the newspaper. The brief case lay flat on his knees. Al sat by him talking quietly to Laura. Outside, the snow was still falling.

  He flipped the pages mechanically, his mind on the snow and whether it would lock them in, keep them pinned in New York till it let up. He was about to turn another page, when something within him told him to stop where he was.

  Stop and chuck the paper away.

  He moved his hand, as if some outer force was now in control. He turned the page.

  And it was then that he saw the little notice. His face tensed as he read it.

  “Lost. A brown leather brief case. In cab. Four nights ago. Near Eighth Avenue and Twentieth Street. Big reward. GE 6-7152.”

  Eddie sat reading the words over and over, till they began to blur before him.

  Then he heard Al’s voice. “What’s the matter, Eddie?”

  “Matter?”

  “You look white around the gills.”

  “Oh.”

  “What is it?”

  “Maybe . . . maybe I had a little too much to drink. It’s starting to hit me. Yeah, that’s what it is.” But he saw Al’s alert eyes fixed upon the newspaper, and he knew that he wasn’t fooling him.

  “Let’s go and get you a bromo. That’ll fix you up.”

  “Okay.”

  He slowly folded the newspaper, tucked it under his arm and got up. He looked past Al to Laura.

  “Al and I had a drinking day.”

  “So I hear,” she said.

  Her face was small, with fine-shaped features. She was young looking, with a clear and fresh complexion. Her hair had an auburn tint to it. Her brow was small and smooth and very white.

  “Come on, Eddie. Let’s go.”

  “Sure.”

  Al turned and patted Laura gently. “You don’t want a drink, do you?”

  Her body was tall and lithe. She sat relaxed and sensuously graceful. Her breasts swelled hard against the tight dress.

  “You don’t want me to have one, do you?”

  “You got the message,” he said.

  Laura laughed, and Eddie noted with a twinge of loneliness how appealing her voice was. Then he saw her green, cynical eyes and the twinge left him.

  When they got to the doorway of the bar, out of her sight, the two stopped.

  “What’s the trouble?”

  “Take a look at this,” Eddie said.

  Al took the newspaper and opened it.

  “The Lost and Found column. Third item.”

  Eddie studied Al’s face as he read the notice. There was no change of expression. He saw the cold and deliberate way Al folded the newspaper. Al handed the paper back to Eddie.

  “What do you make of it?” Eddie asked.

  “That they’ve come up with nothing. A dead end.”

  “Think so, Al?”‘

  “Well, what the hell do you think?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Eddie. Eddie, these guys run from newspapers like from a fire. Even to put a thing like this in means they’re desperate. They want that money bad.”

  Eddie’s hand tightened over the handle of the brief case, then slowly relaxed again.

  “Yeah, they want it bad,” he breathed.

  “So let’s keep away from them and get the hell out of here. That plane’s got me worried. Come on, we’ll go back to Laura before she starts thinking things.”

  “I’m just wondering if I shouldn’t call the number,” Eddie said. Al stared at him.

  “Are you out of your mind? Let it alone.”

  “I’m just wondering, Al.”

  “I said, let it alone. What’s with you, Eddie?”

  “I don’t know,” Eddie said slowly. “Maybe I’ll sleep a little better if I make the call. Maybe it’s the last bit of conscience I got left.”

  “Eddie, you’ll sleep better if you don’t make that call. I got a feeling against it. Stay away from it.”

  “Maybe they’re not numbers at all. Some guys who lost money.”

  “And you’re losing your goddam head!”

  “Maybe I am. But I just got to make the call. I got to see what’s on the other end.”

  “No.”

  Eddie pushed him aside and went over to the bank of phone booths. Al swiftly followed.

  “Eddie, it’s a sucker move. Don’t do it!”

  Eddie grimly handed the brief case to him and closed the door of the booth. Al pressed close against the glass panel.

  Maybe it is wrong, Eddie said to himself. Maybe the whole damn thing is wrong.

  He dropped the coin into the slot and dialed. Soon he heard a man’s voice. Hard and metallic.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m calling about your ad.”

  “You found the case?”

  The voice had a slight accent to it.

  “Maybe I did.”

  “Then you know what’s inside.”

  “I know.”

  It was a Spanish accent. Eddie tried to picture the speaker. But all he could see was the face of the little man. The dark, wary eyes were now hard and bitterly accusing.

  “Why didn’t you report it to the police?” Eddie asked.

  Why didn’t you?” the voice asked curtly.

  “I’m asking the questions,” Eddie said. “I got the case.”

  “You have it. And we want it back.”

  “We?”

  “Yes.”

  Eddie looked at Al’s tense face and said, “How much are you giving?”

  “When you bring the case we’ll talk about it.” “How much?”

  There was a pause. Al tried to open the door of the booth, but Eddie kept his foot jammed against it. He spoke sharply into the phone. “I’m waiting.”

  “Five thousand dollars.”

  Eddie held up his hand, the fingers spread wide. Al spat viciously on the floor and tried again to open the door. Eddie kept his foot tight against it.

  “No dice,” he said into the phone.

  “We have a description of you. You’re a fighter.”

  “Come higher,” Eddie said, and the sweat started to break out over his forehead.

  “We didn’t know until last night what happened to the money. The man who lost it was in a coma. He tried to kill himself.”

  “Are you numbers?”

  “He tried to kill himself,” the voice went on relentlessly, “because he knew that we would.”

  “Five is no deal.”

  “And your life? How much is that worth?”

  “Five is no deal,” Eddie repeated.

  “I see.”

  The voice faded away from the phone. Eddie jammed the receiver closer to his ear and tried to listen in on the conversation that started in the dim background. He heard the word “cinco”, but he could make out none of the other Spanish words. The speech was too hurried and strange.
Then the talk died out.

  He heard the voice again.

  “Ten.”

  “No.”

  “We’re looking for you now. We’re searching the city for you. We’ll find you, we’ll kill you.”

  “When you find me.”

  “Twenty.”

  The sweat was now pouring down Eddie’s face. And he began to curse himself for ever making the call. It was like Al said, a bad move. He let the receiver dangle and held up both hands to Al. Then he dropped them and brought them up again. His lips formed the word “twenty” Al shook his head fiercely.

  Eddie picked up the receiver again.

  “Higher.”

  “What?”

  “Higher.”

  “We’ll find you,” the voice seethed. “Well find you and when we do we’ll take the money out of your blood.”

  “You got to find me first,” Eddie said.

  “We will. By the time we’re finished with you, you’ll wish you were never born.”

  “Luck.”

  Eddie slammed the receiver onto its hook. When he got out of the booth, the sweat was running down his blanched face.

  “They scared the guts outa you,” Al said.

  “They don’t like being turned down.”

  “We’d better get that damned plane.”

  “They’re after us. All the way.”

  “The snow’s coming down too hard. Maybe that plane will never go out.”

  Eddie leaned against the booth. “I don’t know if they’re numbers. I don’t know what to make of them.”

  “The money’s not clean. They’re numbers, all right, and we’d better get the hell out of town. You were a damn fool to make the call.”

  “I know that now. They know I’m a fighter.”

  “The guy told them that. Took one look at you and knew you were a pug.”

  Eddie wiped his big hand across his face and didn’t say anything.

  “You started it off wrong, Eddie. That goddam call is like a whammy.”

  “They’re searching all over town for me.” “Lots of fighters look like you. A pug’s a pug.” “They’re searching,” Eddie said.

  “So the hell with them,” Al burst out. “Better start worrying about that plane. We get out of here, we’re in the clear.”

  He shoved the brief case into Eddie’s hands. “Hold on to this. I told Laura you got your scrapbook and all your clippings in here. I’m going to try to pick up a fight for you in Miami. So let’s keep her thinking that.”