David Goodis: Five Noir Novels of the 1940s and '50s (Library of America) (45 page)

H
ARBIN allowed
his head to turn slowly and he looked at the unopened suitcase. It told him what he needed to know, but it was a matter of reaching a conclusion and not being able to do anything about it. He wouldn’t have time to make the door, and the window was foolish. The closet door, partly open, now opened wider, and Charley Hacket came out of the closet with a revolver. The butt that had smashed Baylock’s head was red with Baylock’s blood.

“For Christ’s sake,” Harbin said, “don’t use that thing, keep your head. Whatever you do, keep your head.”

“Shut up.” Hacket’s voice was smooth pebbles on velvet. “Get on the bed, face down.”

Harbin put himself on the bed and let his face go into the pillow. He saw himself receiving it as Baylock had received it. His lips moved against the pillow. “This won’t gain you anything.”

“Quit bargaining,” Hacket said, “unless you have something to sell.”

Harbin had his brain focused on the unopened suitcase, the suitcase Hacket had been about to open when footsteps coming down the hall had told Hacket to slide into the closet. He wondered what Hacket was doing now. He wondered whether Hacket was looking at the suitcase.

“Where are the emeralds?”

There was a sudden hysteria in Hacket’s tone and Harbin grabbed at it as though it were a rope dangling toward him with quicksand the only other thing around.

Harbin said, “It’s got to be business.”

“You’re in no position to talk business.”

“You want the emeralds?”

“Now.”

“That’s an order I can’t fill,” Harbin said. “I can’t manufacture emeralds for you. All I can do is take you to where you’ll find the haul.”

There was a quiet. Then Hacket told him to turn around.

Harbin turned, started to sit up and Hacket said, “What I don’t like about you is you’re too scared.”

“Sure.” Harbin inclined his head toward the gun. “What have I got to be scared about?” He indicated the gun. “Just be sensible, Charley. That’s all I ask. Be sensible.”

“All right, I’ll be sensible. I’ll ask you a sensible question. Where are the emeralds?”

“If I tell you,” Harbin said, “you’ll kill me anyway. And even then you have no guarantee I was telling the truth.”

“We can’t get around that.”

“Be smart, Charley. I don’t have to give you ideas. You know how to frame ideas.”

“What are you pitching?”

“No pitch, Charley. Just trying to stack things up and get a total. There’s you, there’s me, there’s the emeralds. And—”

“And that’s all.”

“That isn’t all.” Harbin said it slowly and with great emphasis. He waited.

He saw the hysteria in Charley Hacket’s eyes and in the little jerky movement of the underlip. He knew he had to depend on the hysteria but he couldn’t depend on it too long, because it was the hysteria that had caused Hacket to go in for killing. It was hysterical impatience that had brought Hacket up to this room, pure compulsive ignition working Hacket’s arm to bring the gun butt crashing into Baylock’s skull. Harbin told himself he was dealing with a certain kind of twisted personality and at any moment the gun might go off.

He heard Hacket saying, “What else is there?”

“The girl.”

“The girl,” Hacket said, “is nowhere. Is nothing. You can’t tell me anything about the girl.” Then the lips worked up a little at the corners, the teeth showed and it was almost a smile. “You’ve known her for years and I’ve only known her for days. But I think I know her better than you.”

“You don’t even know her right name.” Harbin sat up straighter. “Her name isn’t Irma Green. Her name is Gladden. Now if you want it, I’ll let you have it.” Without waiting, he went on, “You were sucked in, Charley. She lured you in. You started the game but after that it was strictly her play. You were handed a fast hustle and don’t be too surprised now when I tell you
she has you down pat, you’re in the palm of her hand, she can do whatever she wants with you.”

The corners of Hacket’s lips came down. “She knows from zero.”

“From plenty.”

“Like what?”

“Your identity.”

“My face?” Hacket chuckled for a moment. “What’s a face?”

“I don’t mean your face, Charley. I mean your name. Not the name you gave her, not Charley Finley. I mean the other name, the real name, the name you didn’t want her to know. But she found out.”

Hacket stared. “You’re a liar.”

“Sometimes,” Harbin admitted. “But not at this point. I tell you Gladden found out. Don’t ask me how. I’ve never been able to figure the way she operates. All I know is, she thinks a hundred moves ahead of anyone she’s dealing with. That goes for me as well as you.”

Hacket threw a hand toward the back of his head and rubbed his hair up and down. “What did she tell you my name was?”

“Hacket.”

Hacket said quickly and loudly, “How did she find out? Tell me how she found out.”

“I asked her that and she told me to go get her a drink of water. So I went and got her a drink of water. You see, Charley, I work for her. You see how it is? She’s the head figure. She gives the orders. She’s in charge of everything. You see what I’m getting at?”

“Say it, God damn you. Go on and say it.”

“Gladden has the emeralds.”

Behind the gun the face became hard wax, becoming white and whiter as the lips stiffened. The aquamarine eyes looked down at the gun and then looked at Harbin. The eyes frightened Harbin and he wondered how much longer he would be alive in this room. He knew the chances were that in less than a minute from now he wouldn’t be alive. He realized he had made a good try and he had pushed it across as well as it could be gotten across. But the one thing he couldn’t handle was the fact that Hacket was very hysterical and in the mood to kill. He wondered if there was anything he could say.

He said, “Neither of us want to die.”

“I’m holding the gun.”

“The gun,” Harbin said, “is a minor item. I’m not talking about the gun. I’m talking about the rap.” He indicated Baylock on the floor. “There’s something.” He said it as though it was comparatively unimportant, and then he put the big worry out in front where they could both look at it. “Maybe you saw the papers this morning.”

“No.”

“Last night. On the Black Horse Pike. All they did was stop us for speeding. Three of them in a patrol car. One of them saw one of us with a gun. That started it. The business ended with all of them dead and one of us dead.” Again he indicated the body on the floor. “Now we have that. And don’t you think that’s enough grief for this party?”

“I want the emeralds.”

“As hot as they are?”

“I want them.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you can have them.”

“I don’t believe you,” Hacket moved in a little to aim the revolver at Harbin’s stomach. “You still want them, don’t you? Don’t you?” The teeth showed. “Don’t you?”

“No,” Harbin said, wanting to say it again, wanting to plead, knowing it wouldn’t do any good to plead. Just then he heard the sound in the hall outside near the door. He saw Hacket’s head turning and knew Hacket was hearing it.

The sound was directly outside the door and the next thing was knuckles against the door. Then they both heard her voice. Hacket opened the door, keeping the gun on Harbin.

As Della walked in, her eyes were pulled to the red on the floor and Baylock’s dead face resting against the shiny red. She turned away quickly from that. She waited until Hacket had closed the door and then she stared at him. Her voice was low and quivered just a little. “What are you, a lunatic?”

Hacket stood looking at the door. “I couldn’t help it.”

“That means you’re a lunatic.” Della glanced briefly at Harbin. Her head turned slowly, her eyes came back to Hacket. “I told you to wait in your room.”

Hacket blinked a few times. “I’ve had too much waiting. I got fed up with waiting.”

“
I’m getting fed up with you.” Della pointed to the dead body on the floor. “Look at that. Just look at it.”

“Quit giving me hell.” Hacket blinked a few more times. “I’m having enough hell.” Suddenly he frowned at her. “What made you come here?”

“I called your room.” The quivering had gone out of her voice. “There was no answer.” Her eyes were drawn back to Baylock on the floor. She moved strangely toward the body and all at once she whirled and came toward Hacket and cried, “What in God’s name is the matter with you?”

“I want to get this thing ended.”

“This is a fine way to get it ended.”

“You worried?”

“Sure I’m worried.”

“Quit worrying.” Hacket suddenly smiled widely. He seemed extremely pleased about something. “I’m glad you’re here. It’s a good thing you came. You couldn’t have come at a better time. That’s one of the nicest things about you, Della. You always know just when to arrive. As he finished it, he sent the smile toward Harbin. “Thank the lady,” he told Harbin. “If she hadn’t walked in, you’d be dead now.”

“I know that.” Harbin nodded seriously. He looked at Della, his face expressionless. “Thanks, lady.”

Hacket continued to smile. He gestured
with the gun. “Say it again.”

“Thanks, lady. Thanks very much.”

“Now say it once more—” Hacket began to laugh. He let his head go far back and his body vibrated with the laughing. It was sick laughing and it was getting louder. Della waited until the laughing filled the room and then she stepped in close to Hacket and sent the back of her hand across his face. He went on laughing and Della hit him again. While she hit him he had his eyes wide open and aiming along with the gun at Harbin.

Della hit Hacket hard across the face and gradually the laughing stopped. Hacket blinked a great many times. He began to shake his head slowly as though trying to figure himself out and couldn’t do so. After some moments he gazed pleadingly at Della and stood there and waited for her to say something. When she didn’t respond to this, Hacket pulled himself away from the depth of himself, came up to the surface of himself, showed it in the
way he pushed his chest out, lifted his chin, set his feet solidly against the floor. A brightness came into the aquamarine eyes and it was surface brightness. Harbin realized Hacket was trying to re-establish himself with himself and with Della. It seemed that Hacket believed fully in his ability to do this.

Hacket’s tone was in harmony with the way he stood there. “The girl’s name is Gladden. Now I pay her a visit and when I walk in I call her Irma, Irma Green. And when I walk out I have the emeralds.” He glanced at Della. “When I come back here I have the emeralds and you’ll be waiting here for me.” He looked at Harbin. “You’ll be here, too, and once I have the emeralds I’ll be in a happy frame of mind, maybe I’ll let you walk out of here alive. Remember, I say maybe, I don’t guarantee anything.”

Harbin was thinking of Gladden. He tried hard not to believe that Hacket was going out to kill Gladden. He heard Hacket talking to Della but the words didn’t mean anything, the words were vague symbols blanketed by the realization that he was saving his own life at the expense of Gladden’s life. In order to keep from dying, he had decided to use something, and he had used Gladden. He saw Gladden dying. He saw Gladden dead. He closed his eyes and saw it and felt it. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Della. He told himself it would be all right. Soon he would be here alone in the room with Della and together they would know how to work it out, they would scheme a way to get to Gladden before Hacket got to her. They would work it out. He told himself he was sure it would all be all right.

His head came up and he saw Della. She looked deeply thoughtful. Then a different look came onto her face as Hacket offered her the gun. Hacket was moving toward the door. Della stood still with the gun in her hand, showing it to Harbin, showing him the look on her face that was a puzzling kind of look, the kind of look he had never seen on her face before. Now Hacket was at the door. The strange look stayed on Della’s face. It began to bother Harbin. He heard Hacket opening the door.

He heard Hacket saying, “This won’t take long. Just hold him here and entertain him until I get back.”

The door opened and Hacket walked out.

H
ARBIN LOOKED
at the closed door and heard the footsteps going away down the hall, then going down the stairs and fading. He felt his head turning toward the gun in Della’s hand.

It was time for her to lay the gun aside. The gun remained in her hand. The strange look remained on her face. His eyes asked her why she was pointing the gun at him and her eyes gave him no answer.

He said, “We didn’t arrange it this way. Why did you come here?”

“You heard what I told Charley. That’s it. I had a feeling. I phoned his room and he wasn’t there. I just had a feeling.”

“That isn’t enough.” For a moment he forgot about the gun. His eyes went into her. “How did you know it was this room?”

“Charley had given me the number.”

Harbin took his eyes away from her and stared at the wall behind her head. “I’m wondering how Charley knew the room number.”

“He got it when he followed you here last night. When he follows people he really follows them. He had his eyes on you from the time you left Gladden until the time you walked up here.”

“Charley’s brilliant.”

“You’re brilliant too.” Her face did not change. “What took place here? What did you sell him?”

“He came to get the emeralds and after he killed Baylock he opened two suitcases. He was about to open the third when I arrived. I had to talk him out of shooting me. He was very anxious to shoot me.”

Della looked at the unopened suitcase. “They in there?”

Harbin nodded. He made a gesture to indicate that she should put the gun aside. The gun stayed on him.

His lips pressed hard against his teeth. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you here.”

“Like Charley ordered?”

“
Charley has nothing to do with it.”

“Then why?” he asked. “What do you want?”

“It’s not what I want. It’s what I don’t want. I don’t want you to go away.”

“I’m not going away. I only want to get to Gladden before Charley gets to her. He’s out to kill her. You understand that, don’t you? You know as well as I, we’re up against a time element.”

Della spoke slowly. “I’m giving Charley all the time he needs.”

“Della—”

“I want him to kill her.”

Harbin was up and away from the bed. He was moving toward the gun.

Della pushed the gun at him. “Stand back. You try to take it from me and I’ll pull the trigger. Then I’ll pull it on myself.”

Harbin felt very weak. He leaned against the edge of the bed. “You really want me that much?”

“There’s nothing else I want.”

“Thanks.” He smiled weakly. “Thanks for loving me so much. But I can’t let Gladden die.”

“I can’t let her live.”

“You’re crazy jealous. If you saw me looking at the clouds, you’d be jealous of the clouds.”

Della said, “I can’t get rid of the clouds. I can certainly get rid of Gladden.” Her voice climbed a little. “I won’t let you hold onto Gladden.”

“Believe me, will you?” He could feel a fever in his brain. “I swear to you, there’s nothing there.”

“There’s everything.” And all at once she was smiling sadly and her voice was very sad. “You don’t realize it, my sweet, but that’s the way it is. Your entire life is Gladden. Last night in the woods you walked away from me, but you really didn’t want to walk away. It was Gladden, pulling you, dragging you away.”

He lifted his hands, bent his fingers, pushed them hard into his shut eyes. “I can’t remember. I don’t know what it was.”

“I tell you it was Gladden. I want to release you from that. I want to cure you of this sickness you have. This sickness from all the way back. Her father.”

He stared at Della and she nodded and said, “Gerald, Gerald,” and he felt as though he was being strangled.

Della said, “All you could do was tell me the story. You couldn’t figure it. I had to do the figuring for myself.”

He reached out and gripped the wood post of the bed and tried to crush the wood.

He heard Della saying, “You’re controlled by a dead man.”

“No.”

“Gerald.”

“No.”

“Gerald,” she said. “This man who picked you up and kept you alive when no one else gave a good God damn. You were a kid there, standing in the road. You were dizzy and starving, you were sick, and the cars went past, one after another. They didn’t even look at you. But Gerald looked. Gerald picked you up. And that was it, that was your wonderful luck. It had to be Gerald who picked you up, Gerald who cared for you, fed you, put clothes on you, schooled you. Everything was Gerald. His ideas became your ideas. His life became your life. Now listen carefully while I tell you that when Gerald died his daughter became your daughter.”

The room closed in on Harbin. The walls slanted and moved down on him. He could feel the nearness of the moving walls.

He heard her saying, “All these years you’ve been ruled by it. Every move you make, guided by Gerald. Always, every minute, asleep or awake, Gerald telling you what to do, how to do it—”

“Please, will you?” He shouted it. “Shut up.”

“I want you to break loose. Be free of it once and for all.”

Harbin heard something that sounded like, “Really, I can’t do that. It wouldn’t be honorable.” He wondered where the voice was coming from. He wondered whether it was coming from his own lips or whether it was some other voice that he could hear inside himself. He was looking at the door. He moved toward the door and the gun followed him. He knew it followed him and he knew it was a gun and what it could do. He went toward the door.

“I’ll shoot you,” Della said. “I’ll shoot you dead.”

He was past the edge of the bed and he heard Gerald telling him to take the haul. He walked past Della and picked up the unopened suitcase and went on toward the door. He heard Gerald telling him to hurry. The door was in front of him as he sensed
the pointed gun behind him. He heard a sob coming from behind him. The door was opening. He continued to move, feeling the heaviness of the suitcase. Then from behind him he heard the sob again, and then a sound like a thud, and he knew it was the gun hitting the floor. Now the door was closed behind him. He was in the hall. For another moment he could hear the sobbing in the room behind him but something caused him to stop hearing it and the only thing behind him was Gerald, urging him down the hall, urging him toward Gladden.