by Jay Bennett
“Yeah.”
Al stopped the car for a light and turned and hit him gently on the chest with the back of his hand.
“Cheer up, big guy. This is just like another fight. You’re going to win this one.”
“We’ll win.”
“Sure we will. Uncle Al is in your corner.”
He glanced back and then chuckled. “Those two guys sure look sweet. I’d like to see their faces when we’re through with them. Huh, Eddie?”
“The light’s changed,” Laura said.
Al winked and nodded. “You’re on the ball, Laura.”
“Thanks.”
He laughed and stepped on the accelerator. The car sped away from the light and down Collins Avenue, the wind ruffling their hair. Overhead the sky was blue and placid.
Eddie suddenly thought of snow, and of the way it had fallen on that gray morning in New York. The morning that he had sat in the kitchen with Al, the brief case flat on the table. The two whisky glasses flanking it like little soldiers.
Two soldiers. He thought of the two men who sat in the car behind them.
“Fate,” he said in a low, dull voice.
“What’s that, Tiger?”
“Nothing, Al. Nothing.”
“Thought I heard you say something.”
Eddie shrugged and stared ahead of him at the growing traffic. They were getting close to Lincoln Road. Al stopped for another light. The noise of traffic surrounded them.
“The satchel okay?” he asked.
Eddie touched the blue canvas satchel that rested at his feet. “Yeah, Al.”
“It’s empty now. Soon it’s going to be full. You thinking about that, Tiger?”
“I’m thinking,” Eddie said.
Al lit a cigarette and inhaled. The smoke thinned away into the sparkling air. He drove on again, the cigarette held lightly between his glistening lips. The scar on his face showed red in the sun.
The tan roadster kept steadily behind them, the two figures sitting straight and almost motionless.
Like two soldiers, Eddie thought.
“All right,” Al suddenly said, and now his voice was low and somber. “We’re starting to get close. Laura, you know what to do.”
Laura stiffened a bit, then said slowly, “I know.”
“Don’t slip up now.”
Her eyes flashed at him. “I said I know.”
“Good.”
He flipped the cigarette into the street, and let his hand close over the wheel.
“Eddie, you come in with me. Right?”
Eddie nodded, and as he did, he felt a tightening in the pit of his stomach.
“We’re here,” Al said.
He drove slowly to the curb and stopped the car. He got out and stood on the sidewalk waiting for Eddie. Eddie reached for the satchel, smiled at Laura’s taut, white face, then got out and stood close to the manager.
The tan roadster came up and stopped. The two men warily studied them. Their eyes were black and hard. They both wore white suits; their hair was dark, their faces swarthy and set.
Like twins, Eddie thought. Only one guy is older than the other. Much older. His face looks like it was through a fire. Scorched and scarred.
“Let’s go,” Al said.
Eddie followed the stocky manager into the bank. He glanced back into the sweep of sunlight and saw the two men still seated in their car.
“Wait here, Eddie.”
Eddie nodded and handed the satchel over. Then he watched Al go down the flight of stone steps and disappear into the gloom below. The bank floor was cool and quiet. There were few people around. Eddie examined each person, until his gaze stopped dead.
Mateo was leaning on one of the counters, his hand resting casually in his jacket pocket. The leathery face was drawn.
“Okay, you bastard,” Eddie muttered. “So you’re here too.”
Then he saw Juan come out of the sunshine and into the shade of the bank. The huge man went over to Mateo and stood by him.
Eddie turned and looked down the flight of steps, while a cold sweat started to break out all over him. From the street carne the murmur of the morning traffic and the sounds of people passing.
Within the vaulted room of the bank, all seemed hushed and expectant to Eddie. His eyes kept searching the empty steps. His hand went to his pocket and closed over the cold gun.
He kept his hand on the gun, gripping it tightly to stop his trembling. His palm and fingers were wet. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the bank guard approaching.
Eddie took his hand out of his pocket and raised it to his head, letting it run over his hair. He took a handkerchief out of his pants pocket and wiped his brow.
The bank guard moved away.
“What the hell’s keeping Al?” he muttered. “What the hell’s keeping him so long?”
He gazed down the flight of stone steps, his eyes straining to see through the gloom and into the harsh fight of the vault room. His body stood tense and quivering.
It was then that he heard her voice.
“Eddie.”
He turned sharply and saw her standing before him. The dark, luminous eyes pleading desperately.
“Mia.” The word broke out from him, low and agonized.
“Eddie. Eddie, don’t do it. You’re going back on your word. I can see that you are. Eddie.”
He stared at the oval face, its skin now blanched. She reached her hand to his and touched it. A throb of pain spun through him.
“Eddie. Why? Why?”
He looked past her to the figures at the counter, and he said in a low toneless voice, “You’re with them.”
“No, Eddie.”
“Yes. Yes. Why did you lie to me last night, Mia? Why?”
“But I didn’t.”
“Why, Mia?”
“Eddie, I love you and I ask you to believe in me.” He shook his head grimly at her. “It’s too late for that, Mia.”
“Eddie, don’t try anything. I beg you. Please do as we agreed. I beg you.”
“Is that why you’re here, Mia? Because Ferer ordered you? How much are you getting paid? What’s your cut of the hundred grand?”
He saw the tears start in her eyes, but he went on bitterly, “How much, Mia?”
“Eddie, I’m paid nothing. Nothing. I came here with hope, with joy, and now you____”
“Yeah,” he cut in bitterly. “I know the whole pitch. Save it It won’t cut ice with me any more.”
She shook her head desperately. “Eddie . . .”
Her voice choked up and she couldn’t go on. He wanted to reach out and take her in his arms, but instead he heard himself saying savagely, “You took me for a ride, Mia. And the ride’s over.”
“No. No.”
But before he could speak again he heard Al’s crisp voice behind him.
“Let’s go.”
He turned from her and saw the satchel gripped in Al’s hand. No longer empty.
Eddie nodded curtly. “Okay.”
“You’d better stay clear, sister,” Al said to Mia. She put her hand on Eddie’s arm and stood in his way. “Eddie, don’t do it.”
“It’s done, Mia,” Eddie said.
He put her gently aside and started walking to the entrance with Al. All the time he sensed her behind him, her eyes frantically following him.
The bank guard came over quickly and stopped them, just as they were about to go out. “Just a minute, please.”
“What’s wrong?” Al said.
The guard glanced back to Mia and then to them. “That’s what I’d like to know.”
“Look,” Al said. “I had some money and valuables in a vault box. I just took them out. Anything wrong with that?”
“No,” the guard said slowly.
“The dame was bothering us. You mind if we go now?”
“It’s my job to ask questions. When I think they should be asked.”
“You’ve asked them.”
Eddie looked back at Mia. Then
he saw Mateo move away from the counter and go over to her.
“You’ve asked them,” Al repeated, his voice getting tight
“I’m sorry if I troubled you,” the guard said.
He moved out of their way and they went outside the bank and onto the sun-swept sidewalk.
“The guard did us good,” Al said. “The jokers in there saw him talking to us, so they kept away. I didn’t want them too close to us when we got outside.”
Laura sat at the wheel of the car, watching them. When Al nodded slightly, she swung the car out into the line of traffic.
“Come on, Eddie.”
“Okay.”
They started walking down the busy block. The two men got out of the tan roadster and began following them. Al quickened the pace, threading his way through the people, Eddie at his back.
“The tickets I picked up yesterday.”
“Okay, Al.”
“Be ready with ‘em. It’s going to give us the jump we need. Move faster.”
They crossed the street against the light and hurried till they came to the theater. Then they turned sharply and went in under the marquee.
“Move your ass, Eddie. Every second counts!”
They moved rapidly past the cashier’s window and into the lobby to the ticket taker. Eddie handed the tickets over and they went inside into the darkness.
The orchestra was empty at that hour. There were only a few shadowy heads.
“Up here.”
They ran up the dim-lit steps to the balcony. The building had a hollow, cavernous feel to it. The voices from the screen echoed against the walls.
“Quick.”
They crossed over to the red light that hung over the exit door. It threw its lurid rays down upon them.
“Okay so far,” Al panted. He pushed hard against the door and it swung open, bringing in a shaft of daylight. They went out onto the iron fire escape and looked down into an empty alley. The blind wall of an office building and that of the theater loomed up about them.
Al closed the door partly, letting only a sliver of light filter into the theater.
“Bait.”
Then he and Eddie leaned against the railing of the fire «fcape and waited.
“They’re searching the orchestra now,” Al said.
“They’ll be coming up soon.”
“Uh-huh.”
“They’ll see the door open and they’ll know we beat it out this way.”
“That’s the plan, Tiger.”
Al pointed ahead of him. There, between the break of the two walls, Eddie could see the sunlight falling on the small parking lot that belonged to the theater. There were no cars in it.
Beyond the parking lot, across a narrow side street, was a grove of orange trees. At its far end stood an old wooden building which had been Capirani Restaurant. It was now closed and out of use.
“After we take care of these jokers we go through the lot. Then cross the street and into the grove. Got it?”
Eddie nodded.
“Laura will be waiting for us in the Capirani driveway.”
“What if she’s tailed?”
“Sure she’ll be tailed. That’s step two. But first we take care of this. Quiet. I can smell the bastards.”
They tensed and waited. “Now,” Al whispered.
A drop of sweat trickled down his lean jaw and fell.
The door suddenly opened and they came out with a rush. Al hit the first one a smashing blow on the side of the head. The hard butt of his gun struck again. The man spun, then toppled back and down the iron steps, his body making a crunching sound, till it lay still at the bottom.
Eddie leaned against the door, slamming it shut, then hit hard with his fists. The man with the scorched face let out a cry and staggered back. There was a flash of fire. The bark of a gun. A bullet ripped through Eddie’s sleeve, grazing his arm.
He lashed out again, knocking the gun out of the hand of the staggering man. Jamming his fist into the scarred face, he heard the sickening sound of the jawbone as it broke.
The man slid down before him.
Eddie stood staring at him. Till he heard Al’s voice from below.
“Come on, you big bastard. Come on!” #
He ran down the steps of the fire escape, making them ring. Then he stepped across the fallen body at the bottom and rushed across the lot.
They sped over the silent side street and plunged into the orange grove. As they went through the trees, Eddie remembered, with a pang, the old restaurant and the white-haired man who ran it. And how he loved and tended those trees.
Eddie saw a lone wrinkled orange on one of the trees and he wanted to pause and put his hand to the glowing, forlorn fruit.
“Eddie.”
Al had stopped ahead of him. Through a break in the trees they could see the dilapidated building. Then the glint of Laura’s hair as she sat in the car. The car was parked in the gravel roadway, it’s motor running.
“Keep still,” Al whispered. “They’re around here.”
Eddie crouched, his body tense. He gripped the satchel in one hand, the gun in the other.
“Wait here,” Al whispered. “Maybe I can get behind them.”
Eddie watched him move off and disappear behind the leaves. All was still. Only the sound of the car motor remained.
Like the heavy breathing of a feral animal.
Ready to pounce.
Suddenly Eddie swung around. But it was too late. A gun barrel smashed into his face. He reeled backwards. Another slashing blow and he dropped to his knees.
Juan threw his huge bulk forward and clubbed Eddie again. Eddie sprawled on the ground.
Then he felt the muzzle of Juan’s gun against his head. “I promised you this,” Juan said.
Eddie heard the cylinders click. He lay there, senses swirling, waiting for the bullet.
Each split second was a frozen eternity.
Then, as though from a great distance he heard a shot.
The muzzle dropped away from Eddie’s head.
Juan stiffened, then toppled to the ground, like a stone man. A gaping hole in his forehead
“Eddie. Eddie.”
Eddie looked up into Al’s tense face.
“Get up, you bastard. Come on.”
He got to his feet and followed Al through the trees.
“The other Spic is nowhere around,” Al said.
Al stopped suddenly and held him back. They were at the fringe of the trees. The car stood in the open before them. They could see Laura’s eyes, wild with fright.
“I can’t figure out where the other bastard is,” Al whispered.
“Maybe he beat it.”
“Maybe not.”
“We’d better get the hell out of here fast.”
“Don’t I know that?”
Al still held him back. He searched about frantically, his eyes trying to pierce the foliage of the trees. Then he said desperately, “We can’t stay here any longer. Run for the car.”
They rushed into the open and were about to reach the car when they heard the sharp voice.
“Stay. You stay.”
Mateo came from the back side of the building. His gun pointed at them.
Eddie saw Al about to raise his hand and he said quickly, “No use, Al. You haven’t a chance.”
Al dropped his gun to the ground. Eddie’s was back among the trees.
“Sonofabitch,” Al said in a low, toneless voice. “Sonofabitch.”
“Stay,” Mateo repeated.
He pointed to the bag in Eddie’s hand. He began to approach, slowly.
It’s all over, Eddie said to himself.
Mateo kept coming, his dark eyes fixed on the bag, the gun held sharply on them.
As he crossed in front of the car to get to them the motor suddenly roared like a wild beast.
He screamed once as the car hit him, pinning him against the wall of the house.
Laura backed the car away from the crushed, lifeless figur
e. Eddie and Al stood still as statues. Then Al stirred himself. “Come on.”
Eddie didn’t move.
Al hit him sharply across his face. “Eddie!” He pulled
Al hit him sharply across his face. “Eddie!” He pulled Eddie to the car. Pushing Laura over. Al got into the driver’s seat. Laura’s eyes had a dead, glassy look.
The car backed out of the driveway and roared away. Al reached down and patted the bag.
“We got the money,” he said.
“We got the money,” Eddie said.
No one spoke again.
When they hit the highway, they swung south and headed for the Keys.
CHAPTER TWENTY
When they got to Key Largo, Al swung the car off the highway and down a narrow, isolated road that led to the Gulf. The sky had blackened, and now the rain began to come down hard.
“This is good,” Al said. “It’s going to help us.”
The rain slashed at the car. The trees around them swayed in the wind. Al put the lights on.
“This is the end of the world,” he said. “No one ever goes here. We’ll be okay.”
Laura sat hunched between them, her green eyes staring ahead into the wall of rain. Her face was pale, her lips partly open. No one had spoken much during the past hours. Each seemed centered in his own thoughts.
All around them, hemming them in, was a thickness of trees and wild growth. The muddy road cut its way through, winding and turning, till it ended abruptly.
They saw the lashing waters of the Gulf directly in front of them. Al drove the car along the water’s edge a short distance, then brought it to a halt.
“Last stop. All out.”
Ahead of them loomed a paint-peeled, clapboard house, its wet roof sagging. The glass of the broken windows gleamed hollowly.
“Used to belong to a fisherman I once knew,” Al said. “He used to fish for whisky in Prohibition days.”
“Looks pretty beat,” Laura said.
“Couldn’t buy it for a million dollars. It’s just what we need to hole up in. We’ll stay here till it’s dark and then go on to Marathon. I’ll pick up a boat there and then I’ll show you a little island that nobody but God and me knows about.”
He chuckled and patted Eddie on the arm. “Uncle Al taking care of you aU right?” Eddie nodded.
“Give me the satchel, Eddie.”
“The satchel?”
“Uh-huh.”