give me your twenty-five hundred in cash,” I went on to Ben. “Then I’ll put the chill on both of you—and everybody’ll be happy.”
They must have thought I meant it. Ben got rigid, and the old man cleared his throat and made a slow pass at the humidor.
I fiddled with the gun. I threw a pack of cigarettes on the table and said: “Smoke?”
The old man looked at the cigarettes and at the gun in my hand, and relaxed.
I said: “Still and all—it don’t quite square with my weakness for efficiency, yet. Maybe you boys’ll get together and make me an offer for Stokes. He’s the star—he’s been framing both of you.”
I don’t think Ben was very surprised—but the old man looked like he’d swallowed a mouse.
“He’s been in with Ben on the truck heistings,” I went on. “He’s been waiting for a good spot to dump you—working on your connections.”
The old man said: “That’s a goddamned lie.”
“Suit yourself.”
I went on to Ben: “He made the five-grand offer for your hide, in Luke’s name, tonight—and he gave me the Four-mile steer… .” I hesitated a moment. “Only you wouldn’t try three in the same spot, would you?”
Ben finally got his smile working. He started to say something but I interrupted him: “Stokes told me you rubbed the two boys on the trucks, too.”
Ben’s smile went out like a light. He said: “Stokes shot both those men himself—and there wasn’t any need for it. They were lined up alongside the road… .”
Something in the soft way he said it made it sound good.
I said: “He’ll be around your place—no?”
“He went home.”
Ben gave me the number and I called up, but there wasn’t any answer.
We sat there without saying anything for several minutes, and then the door downstairs opened and closed and somebody came up.
I said to Ben: “What’ll you bet?”
The door opened and Stokes came in. He had a long gray raincoat on and it made him look even taller and thinner than he was. He stood in the doorway looking mostly at the old man; then he came in and sat down on a corner of the table.
I said: “Now that the class is all here, you can start bidding.”
The old man laughed deep in his throat. Stokes was watching me expressionlessly, and Ben sat smiling stupidly at his hands.
“I’m auctioning off the best little town in the state, gentlemen,” I went on. “Best schools, sewage system, post office… . Best streetlighting, water supply… .”
I was having a swell time.
The old man was staring malevolently at Stokes. “I’ll give you twenty-five thousand dollars,” he said to me, “to give me that pistol and get out of here.”
If I’d thought there was any chance of collecting, I might have talked to him. Things happen that way sometimes.
I looked at my watch and put the gun down on the arm of the chair where it looked best and picked up the phone.
I asked Ben: “Where’s the business going to be pulled off tonight?”
Ben wanted to be nice. He said: “A coffee joint about six miles north of town.” He glanced at Stokes. “This bastard tried to swing it back to Four-mile when he thought you’d be there sniping for me.”
“The boys are there now?”
He nodded. “The trucks have been stopping there to eat lately.”
I asked the operator for long distance, and asked for the Bristol Hotel in Talley, the first town north. The connection went right through. I asked for Mister Cobb.
When he answered, I told him about the coffee place, and that I wasn’t sure about it; and told him he’d find the stuff that had been heisted in the sheds of the yard on Dell Street. I wasn’t sure of that either, but I watched Ben and Stokes when I said it and it looked all right. Cobb told me that he’d gotten into Talley with the convoy about midnight and had been waiting for my call since then.
I hung up. “There’ll be some swell fireworks out there,” I said. “There’s a sub-machinegun on every truck—double crews.
They must have thought I meant it. Ben got rigid, and the old man cleared his throat and made a slow pass at the humidor.
I fiddled with the gun. I threw a pack of cigarettes on the table and said: “Smoke?”
The old man looked at the cigarettes and at the gun in my hand, and relaxed.
I said: “Still and all—it don’t quite square with my weakness for efficiency, yet. Maybe you boys’ll get together and make me an offer for Stokes. He’s the star—he’s been framing both of you.”
I don’t think Ben was very surprised—but the old man looked like he’d swallowed a mouse.
“He’s been in with Ben on the truck heistings,” I went on. “He’s been waiting for a good spot to dump you—working on your connections.”
The old man said: “That’s a goddamned lie.”
“Suit yourself.”
I went on to Ben: “He made the five-grand offer for your hide, in Luke’s name, tonight—and he gave me the Four-mile steer… .” I hesitated a moment. “Only you wouldn’t try three in the same spot, would you?”
Ben finally got his smile working. He started to say something but I interrupted him: “Stokes told me you rubbed the two boys on the trucks, too.”
Ben’s smile went out like a light. He said: “Stokes shot both those men himself—and there wasn’t any need for it. They were lined up alongside the road… .”
Something in the soft way he said it made it sound good.
I said: “He’ll be around your place—no?”
“He went home.”
Ben gave me the number and I called up, but there wasn’t any answer.
We sat there without saying anything for several minutes, and then the door downstairs opened and closed and somebody came up.
I said to Ben: “What’ll you bet?”
The door opened and Stokes came in. He had a long gray raincoat on and it made him look even taller and thinner than he was. He stood in the doorway looking mostly at the old man; then he came in and sat down on a corner of the table.
I said: “Now that the class is all here, you can start bidding.”
The old man laughed deep in his throat. Stokes was watching me expressionlessly, and Ben sat smiling stupidly at his hands.
“I’m auctioning off the best little town in the state, gentlemen,” I went on. “Best schools, sewage system, post office… . Best streetlighting, water supply… .”
I was having a swell time.
The old man was staring malevolently at Stokes. “I’ll give you twenty-five thousand dollars,” he said to me, “to give me that pistol and get out of here.”
If I’d thought there was any chance of collecting, I might have talked to him. Things happen that way sometimes.
I looked at my watch and put the gun down on the arm of the chair where it looked best and picked up the phone.
I asked Ben: “Where’s the business going to be pulled off tonight?”
Ben wanted to be nice. He said: “A coffee joint about six miles north of town.” He glanced at Stokes. “This bastard tried to swing it back to Four-mile when he thought you’d be there sniping for me.”
“The boys are there now?”
He nodded. “The trucks have been stopping there to eat lately.”
I asked the operator for long distance, and asked for the Bristol Hotel in Talley, the first town north. The connection went right through. I asked for Mister Cobb.
When he answered, I told him about the coffee place, and that I wasn’t sure about it; and told him he’d find the stuff that had been heisted in the sheds of the yard on Dell Street. I wasn’t sure of that either, but I watched Ben and Stokes when I said it and it looked all right. Cobb told me that he’d gotten into Talley with the convoy about midnight and had been waiting for my call since then.
I hung up. “There’ll be some swell fireworks out there,” I said. “There’s a sub-machinegun on every truck—double crews.
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