Authors: James Hadley Chase
He felt, rather than saw, Rico stiffen, but Baird showed no surprise.
‘Go on,’ he said, ‘what’s the rest of it?’
Kile licked his dry lips.
‘I wil pay ten thousand to anyone who can get this man out of prison and bring him to me,’ he went on. ‘That’s the proposition. It won’t be easy, and I don’t want to know how it is to be done. When the man is brought to me, I will pay the ten thousand in cash.’
Baird flicked ash on to the floor. He didn’t show his surprise, but he was surprised. This was something he hadn’t expected, and his shrewd brain looked for snags.
‘That’s a lot of dough,’ he said, studying Kile. ‘You could get the job done for a lot less than that.
What’s the idea?’
Kile touched his sweating temples with his handkerchief.
‘It’s very probable,’ he said, his voice thickening, ‘this man won’t want to leave jail, and that makes it doubly difficult. Apart from that, the prison is extremely well guarded, and the territory is bad.’
Rico was listening now, dumbfounded. He had been expecting Kile to propose a big jewel robbery.
This business about getting a man out of prison made him uneasy.
‘What you’re trying to say is you want this man kidnapped from prison?’ Baird said.
‘Call it what you like,’ Kile said sul enly. ‘He may resist. Whatever happens he must not be hurt in any way.’
Baird blew smoke to the ceiling.
‘Why do you want this man?’
‘That’s my business!’ Kile said sharply. ‘Your job is to get hold of him, not to question my motives.’
Baird’s eyes shifted to Eve. She was watching him intently. She was pale, and her breasts rose and fell quickly under the scarlet chiffon of her gown.
‘It isn’t easy,’ Kile went on, seeing Baird’s apparent hesitation. ‘In fact, it may be impossible. But if you produce this man it’l be worth ten thousand to you. If you can convince me you have made a good attempt, but have failed, I’l pay you half the money.’
‘Where is he?’ Baird asked.
‘Bellmore State Prison Farm. It is situated about three miles from Red River Falls, and is in the swamps.’
‘Who’s the man?’
‘That I’l tell you when you’ve decided if you’l do the job, and when you’ve convinced me you have a workable plan,’ Kile said. ‘I can supply you with maps, the man’s photograph and his prison number.
At present he’s working with other convicts on dredging operations at Red River basin, a mile outside the prison. The convicts arrive at the basin in trucks at eight o’clock in the morning and return to the prison at six. While they are at work there are four guards…’
‘Five,’ Eve put in quickly.
Kile frowned.
‘Four or five,’ he said. ‘There are dogs, too.’
Baird shifted lower in his chair. He looked down at his scuffed shoes, his face expressionless.
‘I’ll have to take a look at the territory,’ he said. ‘But it sounds as if it could be done.’
He saw Eve give a little start and nervously clench her hands. Kile hurriedly put down his glass and sat forward.
‘Don’t forget this man may resist,’ he said, his voice unsteady.
Baird looked up sharply.
‘So what? Don’t you want the job done?’
‘I wouldn’t be offering you ten thousand unless I did,’ Kile snapped, flushing. ‘But it’s only fair to you to know what you’re up against.’
Baird stood up.
‘You don’t have to worry about me,’ he said. ‘I can do that bet er than anyone. This time next week I’l tel you if I’l do it or not. I’l want a hundred to cover expenses, and I’l want it now.’
Rico put in smoothly as he saw Kile hesitate.
‘As I know Baird, and you don’t, Mr Kile, perhaps you would let me take care of his expenses, and if he proves satisfactory, you could settle with me direct.’
Kile nodded.
‘Very well,’ he said, getting to his feet, ‘we’l leave it like that. If you’re in no hurry, Rico, perhaps you’l remain behind. I know our friend here is anxious to get away.’
Baird smiled jeeringly.
‘If I do the job,’ he said, looking at Kile, ‘I’l expect proof that the money’s there to pay me.’
‘That’s okay,’ Rico said quickly. ‘Mr Kile and me have worked together before. You don’t have to worry about your end, Baird.’
‘Al the same I’m going to worry about it until I get it,’ Baird said. He nodded to Kile, glanced over at Eve and gave her an insolent little smile. She turned away and went back to the window. ‘Be seeing you in a week’s time,’ he went on to Kile, walked across the room, opened the door and went out.
There was a long pause while Kile freshened his drink, and Rico stood staring uneasily at his feet.
‘Your friend’s quite a character,’ Kile said at last as he came back to his chair. ‘I can’t say I like his manner.’
Rico laughed uneasily.
‘Baird’s a hard man,’ he said apologetical y, ‘but he’s a man who gets things done. If the job can be done, he’l do it.’ He fidgeted uneasily while he studied Kile. ‘Where exactly do I fit in in this, Mr Kile.
If you remember, you said…’
‘Once Baird agrees to do the job I’m dropping out of the picture,’ Kile said. ‘I intend to leave the whole thing in your hands. I don’t wish to know how you are going to get this man out of prison or any of the details. I don’t even wish to be consulted. You and Baird must handle the whole thing independently of me. If you think you’l need more help, that’s up to you to arrange and pay for. Do the job and hand the man over to me, and you will receive fifteen and Baird ten thousand. Now do you see where you fit in?’
Rico nodded. He also saw how he could run into a fifteen to twenty years’ sentence. He didn’t like the proposition, but the money drew him like a magnet.
‘This man’s important to you, Mr Kile?’
Kile gave him a hostile look.
‘I’d scarcely pay out twenty-five thousand unless he was,’ he said curtly. ‘I can understand you are wondering why I want him, but I have no intentions of telling you, so don’t ask.’
‘That’s all right,’ Rico said hurriedly. ‘But to kidnap a man from prison! It was something I wasn’t expecting.’
Kile didn’t seem to think that cal ed for a remark. He sipped his highbal and looked away.
After an awkward pause, Rico said, ‘It depends on Baird, then. If he says he’l do the job, I take it you’re satisfied for him to try?’
Kile glanced across at Eve, who nodded silently.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘but I don’t think I need meet him again. Frankly, I don’t like him. The less I have to do with him the better. If, after he has looked over the ground, he thinks he can succeed, then let him give you his plan, and you can pass it on to me. If I’m satisfied the plan wil succeed, I wil tell you to go ahead, and until the man is brought to me, I don’t want to hear anything more of what you are doing.
Have I made myself quite clear on that point?’
Rico nodded.
‘Before he makes the at empt, Mr Kile, I expect he’l want an advance of some kind: say three or four thousand?’ Rico smiled apologetical y. ‘That could be arranged?’
‘Yes,’ Kile said impatiently. ‘The best thing to do would be for me to give you five thousand, and for you to keep what you think for yourself, and the rest can go to Baird. Then if the job is successful, I’ll pay the balance.’
Rico relaxed.
‘That’s fine, Mr Kile. That’d suit me wel . In the meantime I will finance Baird and keep an account.’
Kile got to his feet.
‘Then this time next week?’
‘Yes,’ Rico said, bowing.
When he had gone, Kile joined Eve at the window. He stood near her, his hand resting on the sill. For some time they stood silent, looking down at the lights of the shipping, then abruptly Kile said, ‘Wel , I hope to God you’re satisfied.’
Eve didn’t say anything. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her shiver slightly.
Kile had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, and the pain under his heart nagged at his frayed nerves. He had a feeling that he was being dragged down into a nightmare situation like a swimmer helplessly caught in a whirlpool.
He felt he must get back to the quiet of his own home, where he could rest and try to forget that in a week’s time this crazy plan might materialise.
‘I’m going home now, Eve,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling tired. There’s nothing more we can do until this fella reports back. Do you think he’l do it?’
Without turning her head, she said in a quiet, flat voice, ‘Yes, he’l do it. A man like that would do anything.’
III
During his week in New York, Baird had thought a lot about Anita Jackson. Up to now he had never been interested in a girl. He had regarded women as a tiresome necessity, using them as a physical convenience and promptly forgetting them as soon as his infrequent desires were satisfied.
But this girl was different. He had spent thirteen days in her room, living in the closest contact with her, watching her prepare meals, seeing her dress and undress, go out to work at half-past seven in the morning and come in again late at night. He had watched her mend and iron her shabby wardrobe. He had lain in bed while she had shampooed her hair or cleaned her teeth or washed her stockings in the small toilet basin, seeing all the small activities that go on in hundreds of rooms rented by hundreds of girls like Anita Jackson, and which no other man was likely to see. It was this intimacy that created in him an interest he had never known with other women. It puzzled him that even though they had lived like this for thirteen days, he hadn’t thought of her in the way he thought of other women. What she had done for him and was doing for him protected her from the brutal urge he felt sometimes towards women. There was something about her that he couldn’t understand that made her untouchable to him.
She had saved his life by letting that fat Wop maul her on the bed. That was something he just couldn’t get over. She had changed the dressings on his wound day and night, and it was due to her care and attention that he was able to get on his feet ten days after the shooting. She wouldn’t explain why she had given him sanctuary, and when he pressed her she had turned on him angrily, saying, ‘Oh, do stop talking about it! I’m doing this to please myself. I don’t want your gratitude or your thanks. I’m not going to discuss it any more!’
It had worried Baird. He couldn’t understand anyone doing what she had done for a stranger. By letting him stay in the room, she was also risking a prison sentence. It baffled him. When he was well enough to think of leaving he had put three hundred dollars on the table, saying, ‘I guess I owe you something. Take this: I’ve got enough for myself. I’m not going to forget what you did for me. Go on, take it. You’ve earned it.’
He wasn’t used to expressing himself, and this speech had embarrassed him. At the back of his mind he thought he must be crazy to give her so much, and yet there was something in him that drove him to be generous: something he had never known before.
And when she had refused the money it was like a slap in the face to him. She had refused it curtly, as if money meant nothing to her, and his savage temper got the better of his intentions.
‘Then don’t have it!’ he snarled, put ing the money back in his pocket. ‘To hel with you! I’m not going to beg you to take it. If you’re going to be such a goddamn sucker you deserve what you get. I must be going soft in the head even to offer you anything!’
She had gone on preparing supper while he talked, and he had an uncomfortable feeling that she wasn’t even listening. This had so enraged him he had caught hold of her and jerked her around, pulling her close to him.
‘Do you hear what I’m saying?’ he demanded, glaring down at her. ‘Three hundred bucks!’ He gave her a little shake. ‘Why, you stupid bitch, it’s a fortune to you! What do you think you’re playing at –turning it down?’
‘Take your hands off me!’ she had said, with a fury that matched his own. ‘I don’t want your money!
Do you imagine kindness can be bought like something out of a grocery store? I helped you because I was sorry for you, as I would help anyone who was one against many. Let go of me!’
For a moment they had stood staring at each other, then he had released her and had moved away to sit on the bed. No other girl he had known had ever dared look at him the way she had looked at him. He hadn’t frightened her as he had meant to frighten her. He might have been just any other man, instead of a killer who was mauling her, and the discovery that she wasn’t afraid of him had given him a strange and intense pleasure.
Ever since he could remember people had been afraid of him. Even his mother had been afraid of him when he was in one of his savage tempers. His brother and sister seemed to know instinctively that he was dangerous, for they didn’t kid him as they kidded each other, and they were never at ease when they played with him. The children at school had been wary of him, and as he grew older, he came to recognise the quick fear that jumped into people’s eyes when they met him. Even Rico was afraid of him, although he fawned over him. Kile had been afraid of him, and that doll-faced blonde. They all seemed to sense the savage killer instinct that was in him.
This knowledge forced him into a dark, savage loneliness, making him callously self-reliant, bred in him suspicion and distrust, and to find someone who wasn’t afraid of him was like a light shining in the darkness.
The following morning, after Anita had gone to work as usual, he decided to quit. Every day he stayed in this room made it more dangerous for her. If she wouldn’t take his money, the least he could do was to get out. He left as it was growing dark, an hour or so before she was due back. He went through the skylight and across the roofs, following the same route as he had come.
He had left without telling her he was going, or without leaving a note for her to find on her return.
During the week in New York, while he had been fixing an alibi, he had thought continually of her.
Although they had spent so much time together, he knew nothing about her. He knew only that she had a job as a waitress in a steak joint, but he didn’t know where the joint was. He had tried to find out her background. It was beyond his powers to ask anything but direct questions, and she quickly blocked off the questions by curtly saying she didn’t wish to talk about herself.