Agreement to Kill

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Agreement to Kill Page 13

by Peter Rabe


  He tried not to think about Ann.

  Then he suddenly cursed under his breath and walked out the door.

  “You haven’t told me,” said Loma when Spinner got to the tree. “What happened in St. Louis?”

  Spinner sat down on the bench and crossed his legs.

  “Everything else being equal,” said Loma, “if you made your contact in St. Louis, that means I can be rid of you.”

  “What makes you think that, killer? What makes you think I want to be rid of you?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But that’s how I’m putting it I fall, you fall. Remember that.”

  Loma looked at his hands and then said, “You keep thinking I want to do you some kind of dirt Why should I?”

  “You said you want me around, remember? You said …”

  “Once it looks like I’m in the clear and they aren’t looking for me, then you don’t mean a thing.”

  “The gadget wears out, throw it away.” Spinner got up from the bench and suddenly talked with a hard rasp in his throat. “You got another guess coming, killer. This gadget’s got life in it! You’ll never know what I’m going to do next!”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” said Loma He leaned back a little, because Spinner was bending close, but aside from that he didn’t change.

  “I mean you get on my nerves and all of a sudden it comes into my mind to finger you to the cops. You can’t figure that out on your adding machine, can you, killer?” Spinner straightened up and started to laugh. He sat down and was still laughing when he said, “I forgot I keep calling you killer and I forgot what your answer is going to be. Shoot my head off, right? That’s what you’d do.”

  Loma took a deep breath and let it out with his mouth stretched so the lips disappeared. It made lines in his face, but didn’t change his eyes one way or the other.

  “I told you once before, Spinner. I don’t do that …”

  “… for no good reason,” Spinner said for him. “Or for no pay, is that right? Tell me, what else can you do?”

  “I can stop you in a hundred ways, if I have to.”

  It was the closest Loma had ever come to sounding ominous, with threat in his voice. He felt annoyed with Spinner, and with himself, and wished that Spinner would take his mean streak out on something else.

  “Like what?” Spinner kept on. “Maybe you fìnger me?”

  “It’s one way,” said Loma.

  “Boy!” Spinner laughed, forcing it out “That’s brains. That’s real, high speed, electronic brains! You think that’s going to shut me up?”

  “It’ll keep you out of my way”

  “Until I’ve sung my song to the dicks and chase them after you. Man,” said Spinner. It sounded hearty and confident “You and I don’t understand each other at all.”

  “You wouldn’t talk,” said Loma.

  “I wouldn’t what?”

  Loma moved his cast leg into the vertical and put some weight on it, testing. When he was through he said, “You’re the one that isn’t thinking this through. You have the brains, probably, but you’re not thinking this through. If you get arrested, Spinner, it’ll be for murder.”

  “Yes. Your murder, the one you did. And you know, don’t you, Loma, I wouldn’t sit on that secret”

  “You may not, but so what?”

  Spinner grinned with an evil line down the side of his face, and started counting off on his fingers. “One, your gun.”

  “Could be anyone’s.”

  “Two, your shoe and the place where you got stuck with the car.”

  Loma just shrugged.

  “And to prove you were around, there’s a few upstanding witnesses who saw us together. There’s the little girl with the torn sweater, the farmer with the big connections, the doctor who hasn’t had a patient since he came from up north, except for you.”

  Loma shook his head while he kept looking at Spinner. “Why should you bring that up?” he said. “All those people who saw you and me together think of us as being together. You helping me, you calling me buddy, you seeing to it we made out all right If you try making a stink about me killing Dixon, and if you use those witnesses to show I was in the neighborhood, then you come out an accomplice. Don’t you see that, Spinner?”

  Spinner did. But before it made him feel caught, before anything else happened, he remembered that none of this need concern him. He was in, which made him safe. He had made his switch, and what Loma was talking about could never happen. He sat quietly for a moment and then said, “You trying to scare me, Loma? What makes you think that you got to try?”

  “Nothing. You brought it up.”

  Loma was right, as always, right from beginning to end. Even that didn’t bother Spinner any more, because Spinner was in and could feel the dry crackle of the bill in his pocket to prove it He laughed and looked over Loma’s head, watching a squirrel on a tree back in the woods.

  “You asked me what happened in St Louis.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m in.” He smiled the proper smile for a time like this.

  “Whom did you see?”

  “Mercado. Some kind of wheel down there.”

  “I know Mercado. He’s no wheel.”

  “Anyway, Loma, he gave me the message. I’m in.”

  “That was very fast,” said Loma.

  Spinner sat back and looked up at the foliage over their heads, a big, moving, green roof. He smiled again, and though he had meant to be no more than a murmur it was loud enough for Loma to hear: “I can’t lose,” he said. “Not after everything — ”

  “Too fast, almost,” Loma was saying.

  Spinner sat up and a sharp line cut down the side of his face. He was gnawing the inside of his lip and the sharp line came and went.

  “Why? You hate seeing me go?”

  Loma didn’t bother to answer.

  “Then what? You don’t see why they should take me? Or maybe you got an idea …”

  “What can you do?”

  “Mercado asked me the same thing, Loma. And then he hired me.”

  “I believe you. But do you know why they took you?”

  “Because they can use me. No other reason.”

  “Of course,” said Loma. “Of course they can use you.”

  “So don’t sit there like a dried-up lemon and make out that none of this makes any sense. I’m in. That’s what I came for, and that’s what I got”

  Loma shrugged but then he started up again, which surprised Spinner. “But you don’t know what for.”

  “All right, Loma. I don’t know what for. I didn’t ask because I figured one thing at a time wasn’t bad for a starter, seeing I just got what I wanted and not being worried whether I can do any damn thing they want done. What else do you want?” He added, “And why this sudden keen interest? Something wrong with you, all of a sudden?”

  “Maybe there’s something wrong with your job,” said Loma. “They don’t often hire that way.”

  “Oh. How did they hire you? With a trial period and a long look at your pedigree?”

  “By reputation,” said Loma.

  “And me, because of my good looks and because I needed a clean shirt! And if you don’t believe that, then you tell me why.”

  “All right,” said Loma, “I will.”

  Spinner wondered about the sharpness in Loma’s voice — a rare thing — and sat very still while Loma explained it.

  “You’ve got nothing. You don’t have the background and you don’t have the training. What you think you got? A sharp interest in making a change in your life — and that they don’t count That’s your interest, not theirs. But you’ve got one thing they can use. You got a hard push behind you and it’s got nothing to do with your wishes. It’s got to do with the fact that the cops are after you! They’re after you so hard, once you figure it the way St. Louis does, that you’ll bend over backwards to jump when Mercado says to. Because you think they’re giving you a good deal.” Loma pause
d to lick his lips. “And they’ve got you double, Spinner, it’s got to be that way, because what if you get caught? Did you think of that? If you get caught they’ve got to be in a position to wash their hands of you. It’s got to be that way, don’t you see?”

  “Say it, Loma. What’s on your mind?”

  “I can’t tell what the job is, but I can tell that it’s got to be dirty. The way they took you, to give you one reason, it’s got to be real dirt The only other thing I’m sure of is that once you’ve done the job it won’t matter to them if you’re caught.”

  “Why, you lousy — ”

  “You asked me. You have no value except for the thing they have in mind and you’re going to do it. After that they don’t care. It’s got to be that way, because you’re nothing to them.”

  Spinner suddenly felt exhausted. Loma’s hard talk, his hard argument, there was nothing to answer.

  “You’re the brain, Loma. What’s the job?”

  “It fits murder,” said Loma.

  CHAPTER 23

  Keel drove Spinner almost all the way back to town, and then cut off on a road that went down to the river. A few times, with the turns of the road, the Mississippi showed flat and shiny, but after a while the view got dark where a deep stand of old trees grew down to the river. It smelled moist under the trees, and nothing was moving. Then they came to the estate, with lawns in the sun like big clearings and the old trees making a frame. When the car stopped at the house they could see the river again. It lay in back, and, like the lawns, was there to give the big house a setting. White paint made the house look new, except for two-story stone columns on which green stains showed in streaks.

  “Come on,” said Keel. “I don’t like to keep Talbot waiting.”

  Spinner got out of the car and hitched his jacket so that less of the shirt would show. The night before he had washed the shirt, and stretching it in the right way the wrinkles didn’t show very much, except at the collar. The tips curled up and the white cloth had wavy shadows. But the shirt was clean. He hadn’t rinsed it enough and every time he moved Spinner smelled soap.

  They stood at the front door and Keel pressed a button that seemed to make no sound anywhere, but a few moments later a butler opened the door, unless the uniform meant something else. Except for his clothes and manner, the man had nothing to remember him by.

  “This way, Mr. Keel,” he said, but Keel was already ahead of him.

  Spinner came last He studied the ballroom staircase, the big vase with wisteria, and smelled the wax that seemed to be on the woodwork everywhere.

  “Come on, Spinner. I hate to keep Talbot waiting.”

  The setting distracted him and Spinner walked slowly, to keep his bearings and to remember what this place was like.

  “Jesus,” Keel hissed at him. “You trying to louse yourself up? They’re waiting. Make an impression!”

  The door was open and in the back of the long room, against curtains that looked like tapestry, stood a short man.

  “Come on in. Close that door.”

  “Sure, sure.” After closing the door Keel led the way across the long room.

  Spinner saw that the man’s tie was pulled down, that the shoulders of his suit hung back without finding support, and that his thick hands weren’t clean. The man sucked his teeth once and when Spinner stopped, he said, “Let’s go into the next room.”

  They all went into the next room because the long one didn’t have any chairs. The next room had chairs, a table, and a portable bar. Mercado was there, putting down a drink.

  They sat down, except for the short man, who put his foot on a chair. Now it was real. Now, Spinner thought, in spite of the queer meeting with Mercado the day before, and in spite of Loma and all he had said, this was real. Spinner plucked at the collar of his shirt, then put his hands under the table. They were all looking at him and Spinner felt a twinge in his shoulder. Waiting for him — he was through waiting.

  “Where’s Talbot?” he said.

  “I’m Talbot,” the short man answered.

  “All right. What’s the job?”

  “A hit,” said Talbot. Talbot sat down, looked at his nails for a moment, and then said, “You’re the man for it, Spinner. Glad to meet you.”

  “A hit Who gets murdered?”

  “You’re the man for it because for you it’s a setup.” Talbot got up again, put his foot on the chair, and picked at his nails.

  “Who?” said Spinner.

  “Loma.”

  • • •

  Spinner felt very hot but when he wiped his hand over his face it came away dry. He looked at Keel and Mercado and Talbot and then he looked to the back, at the bar.

  “Give him a drink,” said Talbot, and Mercado got there first He came back with the drink and said, “What’s the matter, you got an attachment to Loma?”

  Spinner swallowed the drink. The whisky was good, but Spinner wished it weren’t so smooth.

  “No,” he said.

  He held his lip in his teeth, not knowing what next Keel was looking at him, not understanding what all the hesitating was for. Mercado pushed at his glasses impatiently, and Talbot leaned on his knee.

  “What are you staring at?”

  Spinner felt like something for sale. It stiffened his back and his eyes got narrow.

  “I don’t see this thing yet. I’m confused because I don’t do this kind of thing every day.”

  “We know that,” said Mercado. “We got your record.”

  Talbot shifted his legs and made a grin.

  “Sure, Spinner. Just take it easy. Give him another,” he said to Mercado.

  “I don’t want another. I want to know why.”

  “You get paid five thousand,” said Mercado.

  “Are you in?” asked Talbot.

  They were rushing him. They wanted to buy because Loma had figured it right He, Spinner, had the qualifications. Spinner felt the hate rise inside him because of the pushing around they were giving him. He didn’t like it He got up from the table and walked to the windows that looked over a lawn running down to the river. Who looked out of this window, he thought, and enjoyed that sight? He turned back to the room and the three men at the table tried to see his face against the light from outside. When he came closer they saw how hard it had gotten. That could mean he was good for the job or maybe he was going to be trouble.

  “Why me?” said Spinner. “How come Keel doesn’t get this? I bet Keel could …”

  “There’s no setup for Keel, don’t you get it? You know Loma, you live with Loma, you and him might even be buddies. Christ, Spinner, all your work should be a setup like that.”

  “Setup. You know damn well Loma’s ready to blow. All that’s holding him …”

  “We’re holding him. He’s waiting to hear if he’s clean. He’s clean all right, but he won’t hear about it” Talbot sat down at the table and suddenly slapped his hand down. “All right, Spinner, you want this five G’s or don’t you?”

  That hadn’t been the right way either, because it rushed Spinner and he wasn’t through thinking, The whole thing was a shock, so strange and foreign that it had taken till now to really reach him. But that mustn’t happen, that wasn’t the way you talk about business no matter what the merchandise was, so Spinner cut it all up into small details and questions. He had many questions: He might have to ask them all before he was sure of his grip and knew how to hang on. That’s how he had to do it.

  “Why Loma?” he said. “I don’t get …”

  “You don’t have to get nothing,” said Talbot. “You just …”

  “I don’t like a job, I don’t do it Not any more. You open up and tell me about this or I might kill the wrong guy, I’m that dumb.”

  “Not that dumb,” said Mercado and his ill temper made him sound as if he had another appointment somewhere, something important “You’re not so dumb that you think we can’t make you …”

  “Shut up,” said Talbot He said it off-hand and it
wasn’t clear if his tone had done it or the look he gave Mercado. But when he turned back to Spinner, Talbot looked almost friendly. Impatient, but friendly. “It’s Loma because he fouled us up. We don’t go for that Simple.”

  “Fouled up what? I don’t get it He made his mark; I saw him do it!”

  “Look, you’re new,” said Talbot “But you’re here to do a big job for the outfit so I’ll lay the whole thing out for you. A professional like Loma gets paid for a clean job. If it ain’t clean the dirt comes off on the employer, get it? If …”

  “Don’t gimme that double talk,” said Spinner. “He made his mark and got away.”

  “He run into you, didn’t he?” said Talbot.

  “And how come he didn’t drop you and get away clean?” said Mercado. “We pay for a clean job. We expect …”

  “Shut up,” said Talbot and then, with his patient look, he turned back to Spinner. “The thing is, fellow, Loma knows a hell of a lot; maybe you know that.” Talbot watched Spinner until Spinner realized he was supposed to answer.

  “He’s a clam. I don’t know what he knows.”

  Talbot nodded and went on.

  “He knows why he had to do the job, he does the job, and he remembers who paid his bill. Then he gets maybe picked up and they twist him a little …”

  “You son of a bitch,” said Spinner and the low voice, very intense, made all of them sit up and listen. “You just said a mouthful. And when I get done with Loma, who’s gonna do it to me?”

  “What are you talking about, Spinner? This ain’t no mountain feud, damn it”

  “You just said …”

  “I said he knows stuff. You don’t know nothing!”

  “You can walk out of this when you’re done,” Keel put in, “and you don’t even have to stick around here. You can blow. Nobody cares. You can talk, but what can you say?”

  “Or I can get shot to make sure,” said Spinner.

  “Hell, why?” There was real puzzlement in Talbot’s voice. He rubbed his nose and then he said, “Damn it all, I’ve never gone through anything like this before. Maybe you don’t know business, but in business you don’t do more than you have to. With you we don’t have to, with Loma we do. And for an easy mark and five whole G’s I can’t figure why …”

 

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