The Bind

by Stanley Ellin

  Jake said: “A police badge? The real thing?”

  “That’s what he told me, and this boy is no shmendrik, Dekker. Believe me, he knows from the real thing. What wasn’t real maybe was the guy with the badge. It could have been some hood got hold of it, one way another.”

  Jake said: “Does your man know Holuby? Maybe one of those guys was Holuby.”

  “No, because that was what I asked him first thing. He don’t know Holuby, but he says it wasn’t any wrestler built like a tank. He says both of them looked like plain ordinary people.”

  “That’s a helpful description. Where the hell did this genius learn his business? From a correspondence school?”

  “Now listen to me, sonny—”

  “Don’t bother to cook up excuses for him, Magnes. All you have to do is clean up the mess he made. Meaning, find that woman for me quick. The last I saw of her she was all alone in the Mercedes, driving north on Alton at six A.M. Now you take it from there.”

  “Take it where? You want me to check the airlines and railroad? A waste of time. If she was alone in the car, odds are she wasn’t taking any plane or train, she was probably heading somewhere upstate. Or she’s already there by now.”

  Jake said: “All right, you’ve got the car’s license number, and you told me you’ve got contacts all over the state. Now how about peeling off some of that ten grand I paid you and turning them loose on this?”

  “Dekker, be reasonable. There are anyhow a million motels and hotels along the way, even figuring only as far as Palm Beach. To check them, I would need the whole FBI put together. The smart thing is to concentrate on this end. Somebody here has to know where she went. Like those kids of hers. That’s who to work on.”

  “Which makes it my job, doesn’t it?” Jake thought it over. Then he said sourly: “Nice how it works out. Your boy drops the dish, and I sweep it up. All right, I’ll do what I can. Meanwhile, you go over to Bayside Spa and find out who that rubber is and where we might locate him. That way, I’ll be getting at least a dime’s worth out of my ten grand.”

  “I’ll drive over there as soon as I make arrangements with the doctors here about my boy. As for that ten grand, sonny, you already got plenty of value from it and you’ll get plenty more yet. Rest assured.”

  Jake said: “We’ll see. One thing, Magnes. If you happen to meet up with Frank Milan, and he tells you he’s on the police force, don’t believe him. Not even if he shows you a badge.”

  He slammed down the phone before Magnes could answer that. When he turned he saw Elinor standing in the doorway, her face clouded with concern. “What the hell are you supposed to be posing for?” he demanded. “Living statues? You should have been dressed by now.”

  “Jake, that’s not fair. It’s not my fault if somebody else fouls up, is it?”

  “And will you can the chatter for once and just do as you’re told?” He moved toward the doorway, and Elinor hastily backed away from it, hand outstretched to fend him off. He stopped in his tracks and stared at her unbelievingly. “You must be kidding,” he said at last. “Do you really think I meant to belt you?”

  “I don’t know. You don’t see how you look right now. You scare me when you look like that.”

  “Then unscare yourself. All I want to do is get into the bathroom and shave. And you’re out of character anyhow. From what I heard, Polack women liked to get belted now and then.”

  “Well, they don’t. Not the ones I know. Just try being nice to them. You’ll do a lot better.”

  “I see,” Jake said. This time she stood her ground warily as he approached her. When he cupped a hand under each plump breast and hefted it as if calculating its weight, she remained rigidly unmoving, her arms at her sides. “You mean like this?” he said.

  “No.” She angrily struck his hands away. “I don’t mean like a doctor. Or a butcher. I mean like people. I guess that leaves you out, doesn’t it?”

  “Does it? When Kermit invited us to supper tonight, what did you tell him?”

  She looked bewildered at this abrupt change of subject. “Kermit? I said it was up to you. Do you want to go over there tonight?”

  “You heard what I told Magnes about loosening up Kermit and Joanna about where their mama is. The sooner we get to work on it, the better.”

  Elinor’s face darkened again. “And what does that mean? Look, if you think I’m crawling into bed with Kermit so he’ll start telling secrets—”

  “Baby, you’ve got a lot to learn. It’s the ladies who dig the pillow talk afterward. It makes them feel they haven’t been used, they’ve been sharing something beautiful. With the gentlemen, the warm-up time is when they talk too much. They can be real gabby while they’re figuring their chances of getting your zipper down. Afterward, they’d just as soon watch the Late Late Show on TV.”

  Elinor’s lip curled. “So the only reason I don’t have to go to bed with Kermit is because he might not be in a talky mood afterward. Thanks a lot.”

  “Save your thanks. You know goddam well I’d never try to shove you into bed with Kermit or anybody else for any reason.”

  “You’re all heart, Mr. Dekker,” Elinor said.

  31

  During the drive to the Miami causeway she maintained a stony silence. Then, as it seemed to dawn on her that he was driving with an eye always on the rear-view mirror, she suddenly said: “What do you keep looking in the mirror for? You think somebody is following us?”

  “That Chevy with the six-foot aerial, a couple of cars back. He picked us up as soon as we got off Daystar.”

  She turned to look through the rear window, and Jake said sharply: “Stop that. Get around here and keep your eyes front. I’m the one they’re worried about. You show you know what’s going on, and they’ll start worrying about you, too.”

  “What do you mean, start worrying? It was me Holuby tried to drown, wasn’t it? Look, do you have to leave me alone all day when they’re after us like that?”

  “There’s only one guy in that car. I leave it to you which of us he’s after. And when I drop you off at a store to do some shopping, that’ll settle all questions in his mind about it.”

  Elinor said: “But what about you? After what you did to Holuby—”

  “Nothing’ll happen to me. And if it does, there’s an account book along with the rest of my stuff in that closet back in the house. There’s an entry in it about the three thousand dollars coming to you for professional services. That’ll hold up as good as contract when my estate is settled.”

  Elinor said angrily: “That’s very funny, but you know I wasn’t thinking about the money.” She narrowed her eyes. “And if you’re so sure nothing’ll happen to you, why’d you mark it down before you even paid me?”

  “Because income-tax time is coming. When my accountant figures up my estimate for the year, he likes to know all my business expenses. That’s the way he is. A walking computer, just like me.”

  Whatever she had in mind to say to that she sullenly kept to herself.

  Jake pulled the car up to the curb near Burdine’s department store on Flagler Street. The Chevy with the tall aerial, he observed, passed him by, but then double-parked half a block ahead of him. Its driver remained behind the wheel.

  Jake pointed past it. “See that white building down there, right on the bay front?”

  Elinor, her eyes on the Chevy, said: “I guess so.”

  “Don’t guess. And quit worrying about that guy. When I take off he’ll follow me. I’m trying to show you where the library is. That white building.”

  “I see it.”

  “Good. And what’s your job there?”

  Elinor closed her eyes. She made a slow circling motion with her forefinger as if zeroing in on the answer. “Going through the 1942 newspapers. Start in September and go backward to May. Anything about a ship captain who disappeared off his boat down here.”

  “A ship’s officer. It doesn’t have to be a captain. If you find anything that fits, phon
e me right away. If not, I’ll pick you up here at six.”

  “That’s a long time, Jake.”

  “You’re not getting paid by the hour.” He took her hand, pressed an amphetamine tablet into its palm, and closed her fingers around it. “Comes lunchtime, have something at a counter around there and then take this. It’ll keep you going in high gear.”

  “I’m already in high gear from the last one.”

  “When it wears off you’ll slow down to a crawl. Take this one before that happens.” He counted off twenty dollars from his money clip. “This is shopping money. Kill half an hour in the store here. Buy something while you’re doing it.”

  “Twenty dollars’ worth?”

  “As long as it’s something you can carry with you. Don’t arrange for anything to be delivered. I don’t want somebody ringing the doorbell and claiming to be a delivery man even if he is. Got it straight? And for chrissake, don’t look down the block at that car. Just walk right into the store.”

  He waited until she was lost in the throng entering the store, then drove home. The reflection of the Chevy was in his rear-view mirror all the way. It disappeared only when he had crossed the bridge to Daystar Island Number 1.

  32

  He had stored Thoren’s envelope and scrap paper in glassine packets and locked them in the closet of the study. As soon as he was in the house he took them out and went to work on them again. The packet of cellophane wads was easily disposed of. The wads, when opened and flattened out, turned out to be a collection of cigar wrappers. He held each one up to the light and went over it with the reading glass, but the only thing imprinted on them was the manufacturer’s name.

  He was about to empty the packet of notepaper scraps on the desk when he heard a knocking at the back door of the house. He swept the packets into a drawer of the desk and went to the door. The outline of the figure showing through the glass curtains was flagrantly female. Nera Ortega.

  He opened the door. “Howdy, neighbor,” he said, but remained in the doorway, blocking it.

  Nera gave him a quick, artificial smile, the ripe lips turning up at the corners for an instant and immediately turning down again. “My turn to ask for an invitation to visit?”

  “You picked a bad time, ma’am. I’m working now.”

  “Writing a book?”

  “At least trying to.”

  Nera said: “You know, it’s marvelous how convincing you make that sound. Only you may as well get used to the idea that none of it convinces me. Not one little bit. I catch on slow, Mr. Dekker, but sooner or later I do catch on.”

  “What?” Jake said blankly. “What’s this about?”

  “You. And what’s going on behind that honest face. But I’d rather talk about it inside. You owe me a drink anyhow.”

  Jake glanced over his shoulder. “If my wife—”

  Nera flashed him that brief, tooth-baring smile again. “Your wife was with you when you drove away about an hour ago. She wasn’t with you when you came back. So she isn’t here to worry about it one way or the other.”

  “That your hobby? Peeking from behind the window curtains?”

  “Sometimes,” Nera said. “Well?”

  He shrugged in resignation and led the way into the living room. When he took out the bottle of Scotch from the bar cabinet Nera said: “No, not this early in the day. For high noon, a martini. I’ll bet you mix a great martini.”

  “Sorry, but martinis are a slow, sociable drink. You can see I’m not in a slow, sociable mood right now. Whether you believe it or not, lady, I’ve still got a day’s work ahead of me.”

  “Ah, but what kind of work?”

  Jake looked at her quizzically. “You seem to have your own ideas about that. Suppose you let me in on them.”

  “Corta eso, tiger. I’m your friend. There’s no need to play games with me.” She took her Scotch and water and settled back on the couch. She emptied half the glass without drawing breath, then waved it slowly from side to side at him like a metronome. “Walter Thoren had a big insurance policy. About half a million dollars, from what I heard. Now Charlotte is having a lot of trouble trying to collect from the insurance company. They even sent down a man a few weeks ago—some fat little Italian snoop from New York—to prove it wasn’t an accident at all. When he went away Fons said to me: ‘Don’t worry, they’re not giving up that easy if they really think there’s something queer about Walter’s death and they can save themselves half a million dollars by proving it.’ What do you think of that, tiger?”

  Jake said. “What am I supposed to think of it?” He frowned at her. “Wait a second.” His voice was unbelieving. “Is it your bright idea I’m some kind of mystery man sent here to replace your fat little Italian snoop?”

  “My very bright idea.” Nera closed one eye tight and aimed a beautifully manicured forefinger at him. “You might as well know right now, sweetheart, that I have police blood in me. Papa didn’t make his million the easy way, from sugar plantations back in Cuba. He was a cop. Started from the bottom and worked his way up until he was Machado’s biggest and best cop. And in case you don’t know it, next to Machado, Batista was nothing. And I am Papa’s girl. I have a head for these things.”

  “And a beautiful one. But mixed up. Too much Walter Thoren on the brain, I’m afraid.”

  “Sure. Because you put him there. The first time you and your wife came over to the house, who was it started asking me questions about Walter? And the other night in bed of all places, who was it asking me about him again? I never talk about him to anybody—especially about what happened between us—and suddenly there I am, telling you all about it.” Nera slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Ya eso es mäs de la cuenta. That’s when I should have started wondering what you were up to. But it wasn’t until last night that I did.”

  “Last night?”

  “A swimming party in the bay all alone, hey? In that filthy water which could poison you?” Her eyes widened with mock apprehension. Her voice fell to a whisper. “First we sneak out of the house and look all around to make sure no one is watching. Then a nice swim in the dark all the way to the Thorens’ for some quiet snooping. Only it’s not completely dark since that idiot Webb lit it up. Where I sit by my pool it is, but not where you swim in the bay. And it wasn’t the first time you were on that kind of swimming party. Another time was when Milt scared somebody away by shooting at him. He thought it was a robber, but I could tell him different now, couldn’t I? When I was looking out of the window because of the shooting I saw you sneak back into your house, not go out of it.”

  “Through binoculars?” Jake said.

  “No. But I do use a pair sometimes for bird-watching. Especially for watching chicken hawks done up in pigeon feathers.” Her face became mournful. She dramatically pressed her hand to her breast. “Forgive me, chino. But can you blame me for wanting to watch your every move, knowing how passionate you are about me?”

  “So that’s it?” Jake nodded wisely. “That’s what’s behind all this nonsense. You’re sore because I haven’t kept in touch with you. You’ve been steaming about it until there’s blisters showing.”

  “Look, mister—”

  “Oh yes, you have. You’ve been wondering what happened between us that night to cool me off so fast. Had it been that much of a letdown for me? No, it couldn’t have been. So now you come up with some crazy reason for it which at least soothes your pride. I’m a secret agent, God help me. All I wanted from you was information about Walter Thoren, not an affair. So I couldn’t have cooled off on you, because I was never heated up in the first place.” Jake planted his hand on his chest, mimicking her gesture. “Of course,” he said with broad sarcasm, “the fact that I have a full-time writing job to work at and a full-time wife keeping an eye on me wouldn’t have anything to do with it, would it?”

  Nera sat staring at him in awe. “My God, listen to him,” she said. Then she gulped down the remainder of her drink and thrust the empty glass
at him. “You’d better fix me another one of these, pal. Paluchero. After that song and dance, I really need it.”

  “Why? Because it’ll be easier to stay sore at me if you get stoned?” But he refilled the glass and handed it to her. “Let’s face the facts, beautiful. I’m not your problem. You are.”

  “Sure I am.”

  “Yes, you are. It’s a problem all right when a woman like you can underrate herself the way you’re doing. When she can’t appreciate the impact she has on a man. It can lead her to cook up some pretty wild theories about why he doesn’t send flowers every day, instead of letting her be logical about it.”

  “Uh-huh. But I don’t underrate you, tiger. Not for a minute. And I don’t think Charlotte Thoren does either.”

  “Charlotte Thoren. I can see this gets better as it goes along. I suppose she was up there at your window taking turns with those binoculars.”

  Nera said venomously: “I wouldn’t let that smug, self-righteous bitch put a foot in my house, and you know it. But it so happens Patty Tucker was over a little while ago, and she was full of Charlotte’s latest.”

  “And now it’s Patty Tucker too? Jesus, this is beginning to sound like one of those mass delusions they had in the Middle Ages.”

  Nera said tiredly: “Oh, why don’t you quit playing dumb? It’s starting to bore me. And why aren’t you drinking? I’m being sociable about this. You might as well be sociable about it too.”

  “I am not drinking, dear, because I’m on little pink pills which I took to keep awake so I could finish a writing job I contracted to do. And if I sound dumb about your delusions, maybe it’s because I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t you? Well, I’m talking about some interesting things Patty had to tell me this morning. One was that when she stopped off at the Thorens’ on the way over, she found out Charlotte just went off on a trip by herself and doesn’t want anybody to know where.”