by Peter Rabe
Once, on the way to the station, Jesso looked out and laughed. They were passing the intersection where the ambulance was parked near the restaurant. There were two more tickets on the windshield. Renette didn’t ask him why he laughed and he didn’t tell her. They hardly spoke in the car. Their hands lay on the seat between them and sometimes, with a turn of the car, their fingers touched.
They got out of the Mercedes in front of the station. The chauffeur helped with the luggage and they found the train. Kator had done it up brown this time; it wasn’t any tourist- or third-class ticket. They had a compartment, and when the chauffeur was gone they locked the door, pushed the suitcases out of the way, and sat down. When the train was moving they looked out of the window. At first the landscape looked flat, industrial; even the small fields had a square mechanical look. Later the fields rolled and there were more trees. Renette sat close, with her legs tucked under her. She had the rest of her twisted around so that she leaned against him. They smoked and didn’t talk. There was nothing to talk about. They looked almost indifferent, but their indifference was the certainty of knowing what they had.
She had on a wide-necked dress with a large collar. It had been made by a French designer at a time when they thought the female shape was O.K. as it was. She saw him looking at her and blew smoke in his face. He watched the pearl roll there.
“Who gave it to you?”
“Mother Nature.”
“The pearl, I mean.”
“No one. I got it myself.”
“Lucky pearl.”
“I’ll give it to you.”
She gave it to him and he held it in his hand. Then he put it away in his pocket. They kissed as if they had a lot of time.
It turned dusky outside. Renette put her feet to the floor and sat up.
“I’m hungry.”
Jesso rang for the porter. A small table came up from under the window and there was soup, something called glazed Wildhuhn, potatoes, and asparagus, and a cold pudding with sour cherries in it. She told him what wine to order and they had that too.
“Helmut really your husband?”
“Oh, yes.”
“He know about you?”
“What is there to know?”
He finished his wine and rang for the porter. “Plenty,” he said.
“Not until yesterday,” she said.
They drank coffee and brandy, and then the porter took the things away. They got up. Jesso turned her around in the middle of the small room, because the buttons were in the back. She held her breath so it was hard to get them open, and then she exhaled, laughing, and held still so he could get done. Jesso pulled down the bed and she stood by the wall grille and let the hot air blow up her bare legs. Then the dusk was almost complete and they didn’t notice for a long time that it had turned night again.
Chapter Fourteen
She was asleep. The train made the same rhythm, swaying slightly, and Jesso could glimpse the moon now and then. He got up and dressed.
The corridor outside was chilly and a dim light showed the seesaw motion where the corridor met the door of the next car. Jesso walked right and stood on the connecting platform. It was even colder there. Except for a man at the other end of the car, he might have been alone on the dim train. Jesso lit a cigarette and dragged hard. It felt raw and good.
The train started to clatter across rail junctions and then a dark station platform shot by the window. They were going like hell, straight and steady. He’d been going straight and steady. There had been bumps and a couple of falls, but now, Jesso thought, he was going like hell. And it didn’t feel like rushing and panting, not since Renette, but straight and steady with nothing in the way to make any difference. Almost too easy. Tomorrow the Munich deal and then Kator was out. Kator had been almost too easy.
Jesso left the clanking platform and crossed into the next car. This one had a corridor too. They all did. They had a corridor squeezed to one side and glass-doored compartments on the other. Everyone was asleep. When Jesso came to the club car he smelled tobacco smoke but the place was empty. He sat in an easy chair and looked to the other end. The door opened and a man came in. He sat down by the door. Jesso noticed he was smoking a pipe.
“Got a match?”
He jumped around and there was the other one. The cigarette in his mouth was lit.
“I know, I don’t need one. Just wanted you to turn around. And take your hand away from your pocket.”
Then the one with the pipe stood there too.
“Been waiting for you ever since Hannover,” said the pipe. “Been busy, huh, Jesso?”
“American?”
“Sure,” one of them said.
“But not tourists,” said the other.
“You were hanging around at the other end of my car,” Jesso said.
“Right. And the name’s George.”
“And Ralph,” said the pipe.
They sat down, George opposite and Ralph next to Jesso.
“You’re nervous, Jesso. And you got a lot to be nervous about.”
“Keep talking, Ralph boy.”
“Keep your hand away from that pocket, Jesso. We don’t carry no guns.”
Just for that, Jesso had the revolver out and was up on his feet. The two men just sat. George had his hands between his knees, big hands, and Ralph, who was small and sandy-haired, kept sucking his pipe.
“Now what, Jesso?”
“Now this,” and he waved the gun for them to get up. “You guys know my name, so I guess you know who I am.”
They got up this time and kept their hands where he could see them. He frisked one, then the other. They were clean.
“Park yourselves. And talk.”
“That’s what we’ve been waiting to do, Jesso. Christ, ever since Hannover we’ve-“
“So shut up and talk.” Jesso sat down too and looked at George, the big one.
“We’re in the same game like J. Kator,” said George, “only a different outfit.”
“Fancy that.”
“I knew he’d be suspicious,” Ralph said. “I just knew-”
“We are,” said George. “And we’re buying.”
“Right now you’re just talking.”
“We’re buying. You got the key from Snell and we’re buying.”
“Who told you, Kator?”
“I knew-”
“Will you keep your cotton-pickin’ mouth clamped shut on your cotton-pickin’ pipe, if you please?” George sighed and turned back to Jesso. “He’s a pain.”
“Not to me.”
George stuck his long legs across the aisle and put his hands in his pockets. “Look, Jesso, we can’t prove a thing, so we won’t even try. It would take a lot of time, and time we don’t got. We got money, though.”
“So buy yourself something.”
“I’m trying to, Jesso. I’m trying to.”
“What George means,” said Ralph, “is we want the key. Snell’s dying words, if you know what I mean. Now you wonder how do we know so much? Simple. Kator wasn’t the only one after that info. To wit, Snell was going to jump off Kator’s wagon and sell elsewhere.”
“That’s us. Elsewhere,” said George. “But you know what happened. We missed the boat. So right now we’re trying to catch up is all.” George got up. “Wanna come and look at some money, Jesso?”
Jesso kept sitting. “You haven’t said a thing yet.”
“Money talks, Jesso.”
“What good’s it to you? Kator’s got the figures.”
“We don’t need ‘em. We got later ones.”
“Look, Jesso.” Ralph sounded serious now. “Let me tell you the whole thing. We got figures, Kator’s got figures. Together they’d give a much more reliable score for estimating bomb production than either of the lists alone. With your information in our hands, we can argue with Kator. We can get together, make a combine.”
“You’re giving me ideas,” Jesso said.
George made an exasperated
swing with one arm, sighed. “Jesso, you talk like an ass. There are some deals too big for one man to handle. You’d be twisted out of shape.”
“I’ve been doing all right.”
“Have you got your dough?”
“No.”
“So don’t talk.”
Jesso thought about that.
“Jesso, there are details to this deal that you as one man, or me, or Ralph over there, couldn’t handle alone. You didn’t know, for instance, that your info isn’t any good after a couple of months, did you? You didn’t know the plants change models, that they produce in periods instead of at a steady rate-all things that you never heard of, that I only know by name, and that I mention just to impress you. Then there’s the problem of getting bids for the merchandise. You don’t know under what phony company transactions these deals are handled, how the money is moved without attracting attention.”
“I’m impressed. Come to the point.”
“The point is simple. Sell to our combine and your troubles are over.”
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand.”
“I can’t even hear you.”
“Cash, Jesso. Cash in small bills, right here on the train, and we can make it seventy-five. Whaddaya say?”
“I say crap.”
“I told you,” Ralph said.
George leaned over to Jesso and sounded tired. “Look, Jesso, you know how it is. We’re supposed to argue. We’re just hired to do a job. But we’re authorized to go to one hundred grand. That’s all we got, Jesso, honest.”
“Go back where you came from. Kator pays me more.”
“Have you got it?”
Jesso thought about that.
“You don’t know Kator very well, do you, Jesso?”
They waited while Jesso just sat and they gave him all the time he wanted.
“You got it here?”
“Right on this train.”
“Show me.”
Ralph sighed around his pipe and George looked relieved.
“Honest, Jesso, you won’t regret this. Grab your swag and get out of a field you know nothing about.” They walked down the corridor. “We know your rep and everything in New York and so forth, but this is different. Christ, you don’t even know any languages, I bet, except Brooklynese.”
“He don’t sound Brooklynese,” said Ralph.
“Ralph, your mouth. You’re gonna hiccup one day, and fall in. Look, Jesso, I’m just making a figure of speech. I’m trying to show you-“
“You know what you can show me, so stop bending my ear.”
They kept still, both of them, and Jesso followed George down the corridor. Ralph was behind him.
They had a compartment too. It was just like the one where he and Renette were staying, and it made things nice and familiar. Jesso watched George unlock the door and waved Ralph to step through. He himself went in last.
“I’ll lock this door,” he said, and made a noise with the slide. His other hand pressed one of the buttons that kept the bolt from locking.
“I told you he’d be suspicious,” Ralph said, but he was grinning this time. He pulled a suitcase out from under the seat. “Come here and count it.”
“Put it on the seat. I’ll count it from here.”
George spoke up and his voice was apologetic as hell. “Jesso, look. I know how you feel, and you got every right. But let’s play it even. We got all this dough and you got a gun. Your hand’s in your pocket again. So let me get my cannon, see, right here in my coat, and I keep it in my pocket and you keep yours there. You know how it is, Jesso, so don’t misunderstand. If we knew each-“
“I get it.” He made a noise in his pocket.
“So I’ll just get my-”
“Never mind. This is crazy enough as it is. Here, take mine, and keep it till I leave.” He tossed his gun over to George, who caught it, grinned, and dropped it into his pocket.
“No hard feelings, Jesso. You know how it is.”
“So open the suitcase.”
Ralph hefted the two-suiter onto the seat and clicked the locks open. He threw back the cover, lifted the underwear off, and there were the bundles.
They were tens, twenties, and a row of fifties, some dog-eared and held by a rubber band, some stiff and clean, still with the bank wrappers around them. It was a sight.
“Count them out on the seat,” Jesso said.
“In bills?”
“In bundles is good enough.”
Ralph did, and there was one hundred thousand. Jesso grinned and shook his head. “I never saw such a bunch,” he said. “Believe me, fellers, I never saw such a bunch.”
They grinned and nodded too. Ralph put the bills back in the suitcase.
“So whaddaya say, Jesso?” George folded his arms over his chest.
“My, my,” said Jesso. “Myomy”
Ralph made a laugh. “Guess I can close it, huh?” He closed it.
“You’ll take it, huh?” George was laughing.
“I guess I will,” laughed Jesso.
“So pick it up,” said Ralph, and they all laughed at each other.
When they stopped, it was almost as if on cue.
Jesso said, “Push it over here,” and his voice was different.
Ralph looked at George. He was refolding his arms, “You forgot to tell us your story, Jesso.”
“So I did.”
They waited.
“Push it over here.”
“Your story, Jesso.”
There was the silence again, except that they all heard the singing and clacking of the train. It hadn’t occurred to Jesso before, but this train made a constant clack on the tracks. American trains didn’t clack like that. They must join the rails differently.
“The story,” he said. “Do you know the story I told Kator? The wrong one?”
“No.”
“If I told you the same one, you’d never know.”
“Not until later. We’d find you and you’d end up dead.”
“I can see that.”
They heard the clacking again and the wind rushing by the window.
“The right story, then,” and he told them the one he had fed to Kator. “The upper left half and the lower right half of the two columns of figures give the production of the thing they make at Honeywell.”
And they did nothing. Ralph didn’t kick the suitcase over because he knew Jesso was lying. George kept his arms folded because to shoot Jesso would keep them from ever knowing. They couldn’t have figured any of this, except that Kator had told them.
“I was kidding, fellows.” Jesso looked at his shoe. He lifted his foot and rubbed the shoe against his pants leg. Then he looked at the shine he’d made. “You know how it is, fellows.” He laughed, looked at the shoe again. “If you’ll kick the suitcase over, like security, sort of-”
Ralph pushed it up to Jesso’s feet and George unfolded his arms.
“We understand, Jesso. I’ll even toss your gun over there.” He took it out, threw it on the seat.
“You understand,” said Jesso, and he looked apologetic. He held it on his face for fear he’d break up and laugh. He still looked that way when he told them, “The upper halves of both columns make up the figures you want. Honeywell.”
He bent down then, slowly, and picked up the suitcase. It wasn’t heavy. He still moved slowly when he straightened up and caught Ralph reaching over for the gun. When it came around, pointed, he couldn’t hold it any longer and burst out laughing. Then the gun went click and click and click. Jesso was still laughing when he threw the suitcase at Ralph, and even though it was light there was force behind it and Ralph stumbled back so that George had to catch him. The door was open and they heard Jesso laughing down the corridor.
But he didn’t keep it up. By the time he was racing through the next car there was only the fast clack of the wheels and his own breathing. You don’t know Kator much, George had said. He should know and he had been right. Kator had figured
there’d be these two jovial fellows, countrymen, all ready with the pile of real live money. And that’s one thing Americans can’t resist, Kator must have figured. And then when he’d told them the right story they’d shoot. Kator had tried that one before and figured wrong, but he wasn’t going to be wrong about the part with the money.
There’s one thing about those German trains, they all have a catwalk along the side, so when George came clattering through the platform between the cars he didn’t see Jesso because Jesso hung outside the door. Then Ralph came by. They went the way Jesso had gone, down the long end of the train. Jesso got back in and walked to the stateroom where the dough was. He didn’t even run. The suitcase was there, and they had left his gun because without bullets there wasn’t much point to it. Jesso took the bullets out of his pocket and reloaded the cylinder. Before he picked up the suitcase he thought about leaving a note, something like “You know how it is. The right combination is tick-tack-toe diagonally across the list, honest,” but then he let it go because it came to him where they’d be headed first. He went out into the corridor.
He held the revolver in one hand and the valise in the other, and kicked the door to his stateroom open.
“Drop it,” Jesso said, and they did.
“Honest-” George said, but he saw Jesso didn’t look conversational.
“I got a proposition.” Ralph’s voice was squeaky.
“Shut up. You’ll wake up the girl.”
Renette hadn’t even opened an eye. She’d got to be a heavy sleeper. They all turned to look at her in the bed and she looked sexy as hell.
“Turn around.”
They did.
“To the other wall, you bastards.”
They turned.
“Now lean.”
They knew what he meant, and they leaned against the wall with their hands out. Jesso kicked the door shut, put the case down, and started to wake Renette. It took a while. She didn’t ask any questions because she was still half asleep, but then her clothes weren’t handy.
“George,” Jesso said.
George started to turn.
“Face front, you sonofabitch, or you’ve taken your last look.”