The Jugger by Richard Stark Page A

his right. His cowboy hat was tipped back on his head, his shirt collar was open and tie loosened, his suit jacket was unbuttoned, and his trousers were hooked under his paunch. He looked like a man with nothing but time and patience. He was a lot more sure of himself now, after the session with Rayborn, and he was showing it.
     
    He walked around the room a little bit, still keeping well away from Parker, and finally he said, 'The question is, do you know where it is or don't you? That's the question.'
     
    Parker waited; nothing to say yet, nothing to respond to.
     
    'At first, I figured you did know, and all I had to do was keep you in sight, you'd lead me straight to it. But now I don't think so. It isn't here. I don't believe for a minute it's in this house, so you poking around here means you don't know any more than anybody. Is that right?'
     
    Parker couldn't tell yet whether it would be best to claim to know nothing or everything, so he went on waiting.
     
    Younger had been trying some rudimentary kind of psychology, because now he said, 'Or
is
it here? Do you know for
sure
it's here? How come you were digging in the cellar?'
     
    Parker shook his head, but didn't say anything.
     
    'All right, not you, your partner. The little bastard in the funny clothes. You were seen punching him in the face right out on the sidewalk this afternoon, what do you think of that?'
     
    'Not much.'
     
    'He's your partner, isn't he?'
     
    'No.'
     
    'He was digging down there, wasn't he?'
     
    'Maybe it was him, maybe not. The guy that hit me had a burlap bag over his head.'
     
    'Oh, stop that! You went down there
with
him! What do you think I am?'
     
    Parker said, 'I think you're a hick and a moron and a bigmouth and yellow from your head to your ass.'
     
    The captain stopped in his tracks and stared at Parker. His face got red, and his hand on the gun got white. He opened his mouth three times before he managed to say anything, and then the words came out in a strangled whisper:
     
    'I could kill you, Willis, don't you know that? I run this town, I run it, I run the police force. I could kill you, right here and now, shoot you down dead at my feet, and nobody'd ever say a word to me about it. You're surely wanted somewhere for something, an old friend of Joe Sheer's like you, you've got to be on somebody's wanted list. I caught you burglarizing the house and when I tried to arrest you, you jumped me and I shot you in self-defence. Don't you know that? I could kill you right now and not think twice about it.'
     
    'If you kill me,' Parker told him, 'you'll never know anything.'
     
    'I won't? I won't?' For some reason, that seemed to make Younger even madder than before. 'Explain that,' he said. 'Make it snappy, you, explain yourself. By God, I
will
kill you! You give me a reason not to do it, just one good reason not to shoot you down this minute.' Parker said, 'I went to see Gliffe.'
     
    Younger waited, but Parker didn't say any more. Finally, Younger said, 'So what? What's that supposed to mean?'
     
    'You figure it out.'
     
    'What the hell are you talking about?'
     
    'You don't understand what's going on, Younger. You got a theory and it doesn't work, it's full of holes. There's some little man I'm supposed to be partners with, but I'm seen hitting him on the street and he hits me with a shovel down in the cellar here. You call that partners? Does your theory tell you why I went to see Gliffe and Rayborn? Does it tell you why I went to Lynbrooke?'
     
    'To get the paper, what are you talking about? I know what you went to Lynbrooke for, to get the paper.'
     
    'Why? Why did I want the paper?'
     
    Younger was looking more and more baffled, more and more irritated, more and more impatient and enraged. He waved his arms wildly, shouting, 'What the hell do I care? I don't care what you wanted the goddam paper for, what do I care about that? I know what you came to this town for, don't give me a lot of—'
     
    The