The Man With the Getaway Face by Richard Stark Page B

Stubbs, so Parker had hacked away at it with an axe and cleared enough room for the Ford to just get through. He made it now on the first try and came down the grassed-over double track on the other side.
    He drove around to the back of the farmhouse, left the Ford up close against the house – he would have liked to park it in the barn, but that had already fallen in – and went down the steps into the basement. The flooring upstairs was unsafe, so they used only the basement.
    It didn't smell like a basement. The windows were all broken out, and sand had sifted in over the years. It smelled mummified. There were two cots set up along one wall, a card table and three folding chairs on the other side, and a camp stove by the ruins of the furnace so the smoke would go up the chimney.
    Parker went over to the door to the fruit cellar and hit it with his fist. "You in there?"
    Stubbs's voice came through the thick door faintly, "Go to hell."
    Parker took the bar down and went back to the card table, where the automatic lay next to the canned goods. He picked up the automatic and called, "Come on out."
    There was a pause, and the door pushed slightly open. Another pause, and the door jolted back and slammed against the wall and Stubbs came out with a grey chunk of two-by-four lifted over his head.
    Parker motioned with the automatic. He watched Stubbs decide whether or not to throw the two-by-four at him, but Stubbs decided against it. When he dropped it, Parker said, "Let's go out in the air."
    He would rather have just left Stubbs locked away in the fruit cellar for two weeks, but if he did Stubbs might get sick and die. He couldn't afford yet to have Stubbs die. He had to waste some time now getting Stubbs out in the sunlight.
    They went outside and Parker sat down on the ground, his back against the wall of the farmhouse. "Go on, walk around a little," he said.
    Stubbs stood blinking in the light. There was no window in the fruit cellar, and he'd been in pitch-dark. He looked around, blinking in the light. "I got to go."
    "Over there." Parker pointed with the automatic. "Away from the house, over by that tree there. And cover it up."
    Stubbs stood around, undecided. "I'm out of cigarettes."
    Parker tossed him his pack, and some matches. He had more in the glove compartment of the Ford. Stubbs picked them up from where they'd fallen at his feet, and slowly lit a cigarette. He stuffed the pack and the matches in his pants pocket and looked sullenly at Parker. "You can't kidnap me like this."
    Parker shrugged. It didn't need an answer.
    Stubbs screwed his face up, the way he did when he was trying to think. He wanted to tell Parker this whole thing was impossible, you just don't lock a man away in a fruit cellar for two weeks with no electricity and no plumbing. But Parker was doing it, and that didn't leave Stubbs much to say. After a minute, he turned and trudged over towards the tree.
    They stayed outside for half an hour, and then they went back into the basement and Parker let Stubbs make himself some beans and instant coffee at the camp stove. There was bread, too, but no butter, and a can of peaches for dessert. Stubbs thought about tossing a can of beans at Parker's head, but Parker told him to forget about it, so Stubbs forgot about it.
    After he'd cleaned up his dinner utensils, Parker let him go outside again for a while. Then he put him back in the fruit cellar, put the bar across the door. "I'll see you tomorrow," he called through the door.
    There wasn't any answer, so Parker shrugged and walked away. It was just about sundown, darker in the cup around the farmhouse than up along the ridge. Parker got into the Ford, started the engine, and drove carefully through the dusk back to the road. He turned right and drove back towards the motel where he was staying, stopping off at a diner for a chicken dinner.
    Handy showed up a little after ten in Alma's green Dodge. Alma didn't like him using it, but he needed it for