Authors: Richard Laymon
‘All he’s got is the shaft,’ Marta said.
‘Reckon he’s the
un
luckiest guy in the world.’
‘Unless,’ Neal said, ‘he can come up with another half a million before two o’clock.’
‘How would he do that?’ Marta asked.
‘How did he get the
first
?’
‘We only stole it from him a few hours ago,’ Marta pointed out. ‘He hasn’t had time to replace it. The banks would’ve all been closed . . .’
‘Maybe he has a wealthy friend with a safe full of cash. Maybe
he
has a safe full of cash. Just because he didn’t think about it while I was in his head . . .’
‘I doubt it,’ Marta said. ‘I think we’ve
got
his money. And I think there’s gonna be a very pissed off Leslie Glitt when two o’clock rolls around.’
Sue sat up. Twisting sideways, she braced herself on a stiff arm and looked over her shoulder at the clock. ‘It’s twelve after twelve,’ she announced.
‘I don’t think Vince is planning to show up before one,’ Neal said.
‘If he shows up at all,’ Marta said. ‘Which I wouldn’t, if I were in his shoes.’
‘He’ll probably show up and drop off
something
,’ Neal said.
‘An apology?’ Marta asked.
‘Maybe an I.O.U.’
‘If I was ol’ Vince,’ Sue said, ‘I’d put a bomb in a sack and blow Glitt to smithereens.’
‘I’d love to see that,’ Neal said.
‘When we gonna go?’ Sue asked. Not waiting for an answer, she said, ‘We don’t wanta miss nothing. Maybe we oughta get goin right now.’
‘It’s still pretty early,’ Neal told her.
‘I’ll take my camcorder,’ Marta said. ‘At the very least, we oughta be able to get some video of Glitt showing up to look for his money. If we’re lucky, we might get
both
of them. That’d
prove
there was a conspiracy.’
‘Prove to who?’ Sue asked.
‘The cops. A jury.’
‘I’m the jury,’ Neal said.
‘Think you’re Mike Hammer?’ Marta asked.
‘Yeah. Except he used a .45, and all I’ve got is a measly .380.’
Marta rolled onto her side. She swung a leg across his thighs. Rubbing his chest, she squirmed closer. He felt the smoothness of her body against him, the tickle of her pubic hair, the weight and heat of a breast on top of his arm. She nibbled his shoulder. ‘Let me be your Velda?’ she whispered.
Sue gave Marta’s rump a smack.
Marta flinched. ‘Ow!’
‘Time’s a-wastin, gang. We gotta move it or lose it.’ The mattress wobbled as Sue scurried off the bed. Neal watched her rush across the moonlit room. She stopped at the doorway and reached out.
The sudden brightness hurt Neal’s eyes.
Marta groaned and pushed her face against his chest.
‘Let’s go!’ Sue called out, grinning.
‘We’ve got plenty of time,’ Neal said.
‘We ain’t the first ones there, no tellin what we might miss. C’mon, let’s move it!’ She clapped her hands. ‘Let’s go, let’s go! Time’s a-wastin!’
With another groan, Marta rolled off Neal and sprawled on her back. She flung an arm across her eyes to block out the light.
By the time Neal could force himself to sit up, Sue was gone. He swung his legs off the bed. Then sat there, head drooping.
‘I don’t wanta move,’ Marta muttered from behind him.
‘Me either.’
‘Why’s
she
so damn perky?’
‘Part of her charm,’ Neal muttered.
Sue came prancing into the room.
Neal raised his head. She was grinning, naked, and had clothes clutched to her chest: her own white pleated skirt and yellow knit pullover, Marta’s T-shirt, Neal’s shorts.
‘Here ya go, got yer duds for ya.’ She tossed the shorts at Neal. They almost hit him in the face. Just in time, he shot a hand up and caught them. ‘Get up, get ’em on, we gotta get outa here.’
‘Settle down,’ Marta muttered.
Sue threw the T-shirt at her.
Neal looked over his shoulder. Marta was on her back, propped up with her elbows. She regarded Sue with narrow eyes, but made no attempt to protect herself. The T-shirt opened up in midair and fell, dropping over her head, draping her entire face, covering one shoulder and one breast.
She let it stay.
The fabric showed the general shape of her face. Neal could see the curve of her brow, slight indentations over her eyes, the rise of her nose, the slopes of her cheeks. He could see where her lips were. Her mouth seemed to be closed and unsmiling.
‘Extremely amusing,’ she said, lips and chin moving the fabric.
Neal suddenly pictured her dead, face covered by a sheet.
He turned away, stood up and stepped into his shorts. As he pulled them up, he said, ‘We don’t all have to go. Why don’t you two stay here? I’ll drive down and take care of things.’
‘Yer kiddin,’ Sue said, fastening her skirt.
‘We’re not staying behind,’ Marta said.
The T-shirt no longer shrouded her face. She was sitting up in the middle of the bed, scowling at Neal, the shirt heaped in her lap.
‘All I’m going to do is park and watch what happens,’ he explained. ‘And I’ll use the camcorder. I’ll get everything on tape. And maybe I’ll use the bracelet on Glitt to see where he goes after
he finds out he’s been stiffed. It won’t take three of us to . . .’
‘
I
wanta watch,’ Sue protested.
Seated cross-legged on the bed, Marta put her T-shirt on. When her head reappeared, she gazed at Neal and said, ‘I know what’s going on in that mind of yours.’
‘Probably,’ he admitted.
‘You’re afraid one of us’ll get hurt.’
‘That’s right, I am. You don’t know Glitt. He’s . . . the things he would do to you . . .’
‘So you think we’d be better off – safer from Glitt – if you go away in the middle of the night without us? Leaving us alone and unarmed?’
‘He doesn’t know where you are,’ Neal said.
‘How do you know?’
‘I don’t know for sure,’ he admitted, ‘but . . .’
‘Wasn’t Glitt planning to visit your apartment again tonight?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Over in your apartment, is my address written down anywhere?’
‘Yeah, but . . .’
‘And you still want to leave us here for a couple of hours, all by ourselves, without the gun?’
Neal grimaced at her.
‘If you go,’ Marta said, ‘we all go.’
‘Fair’s fair,’ Sue added.
‘Everything else aside,’ Marta said, ‘you might need us. If you
do
go on a bracelet trip, we should be in the car to keep an eye on your body.’
‘We’ll be yer bodyguards,’ Sue said. She stood by the bed in her white, pleated skirt, casually twirling her knit blouse by the side of her leg. Her hips shifted slightly from side to side. Her skirt swayed, its front brushing across her thighs.
She looked like a cheerleader who’d decided to go native.
And Neal suddenly knew that he didn’t want to go anywhere without her.
Without her
or
Marta.
‘We’ll make sure you’re safe and sound,’ Marta said, ‘while you’re riding Glitt to God-knows-where.’
‘Who’ll guard
you
?’ Neal asked.
‘Any sign of trouble,’ Marta said, ‘and we’ll drive off.’
‘Sides,’ Sue said, ‘we’ll have yer gun. It ain’t . . .
isn’t
a thing ya can take with ya on a bracelet trip.’
‘We’ll be fine in the car,’ Marta told him.
Neal glanced from Sue to Marta. They both had their eyebrows high, impish looks on their faces. They knew that they’d won.
He supposed they would
always
win.
Two against one.
The Two-she versus me
.
Could be worse, he decided.
Just, please, God, don’t let anything happen to them
.
Neal knew that he should’ve made them stay behind. But he was glad they were with him. It was very good to be in the back seat of the Jeep, both of them in front of him, close enough to touch, their hair blowing.
Marta drove. She and Sue sometimes turned their heads and said things that Neal couldn’t hear.
If anything happens to them
. . .
He wondered if he was risking them, allowing them to come. Or would they have been in more danger left behind?
This way, he thought, at least we’re together. I’ll be here to protect them.
Which, he suspected, was more an excuse than a reason. The real reasons were probably more selfish than that: he
wanted
them to be with him. Partly because he was afraid, deep down, to go out by himself at this hour of night, on this sort of mission. But mostly because, at least for now, he felt as if parting with either of them would be too painful.
But I’m taking them to Glitt. He might’ve never found us, and here we are, GOING to him
.
Suddenly, the insanity of it seemed so vast that Neal imagined himself leaning forward between the seatbacks and saying, ‘Turn it around. We’re going home.’
He wanted to do that.
But he couldn’t.
Tonight, and only tonight, Glitt would be making a rendezvous with a paper sack in a garbage container in front of Video City.
Miss him, and he’ll still be out there. But we won’t know where. Sooner or later, he’ll find us. But we won’t know when
.
Back out now, he’ll nail us for sure
.
They had started their trip at Marta’s apartment. From there, any of several routes would’ve led them to Video City. But Neal soon noticed that they were traveling on the very same backroad that he always took to the video store.
The same road that he’d used Sunday night.
They would soon be coming to the freeway underpass.
They stopped for a traffic signal at National Boulevard. Turning in her seat, Sue looked back at Neal. ‘How ya doin?’ she asked.
‘Okay.’
‘Sure you are,’ Marta said. He could never fool her.
‘I’ve been better,’ he admitted. ‘Just scared. I wish we were back in bed.’
‘Well, it’ll all be over in a couple of hours.’
‘That’s what he’s scared of,’ Sue said.
‘I know we have to do this,’ Neal explained. ‘But I don’t like it.’
‘I sorta do,’ Sue said.
‘You
what
?’
‘Like it. I feel like when we was about to climb aboard that rollycoaster at the Fort. The Pony Express? All sorta trembly and excited.’
‘Wish I’d been there,’ Marta said. The traffic signal turned green, and she drove through the intersection.
‘The dang thing busted on us,’ Sue told her. ‘We was stuck way up there at the tippy-top. Scared the squeamin jimmies outa me. But it turned out fine. This here, it’s gonna turn out fine, too.’
Listening, Neal had half expected Sue to tell Marta what they’d
done
while stuck at the summit of the rollercoaster. He was a little surprised that she left it out.
‘After this is all over,’ Marta said, ‘we should go to Disneyland.’
‘Yeah!’
‘Now that we’ve got half a million bucks,’ Neal said, ‘we might be able to afford it.’
Marta turned her head slightly, and Neal saw the side of her face smiling. ‘The baby’s gonna
love
Disneyland. After it’s born, we’ll have to go two or three times a year.’
‘And we’ll
all
go, right?’ Sue asked. She sounded as if she wanted to make very sure that she wasn’t being eliminated from Marta’s visions of the future.
‘We’ll make you push the pram,’ Marta told her.
Neal realized that they had already gone through the freeway underpass. He hadn’t noticed it at all, hadn’t given a moment of thought to the gangster threats scribbled on its walls, hadn’t felt its menace.
They’d left it behind while talking of Disneyland.
‘Can I name it?’ Sue asked.
‘The baby?’ Marta asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘No!’ Marta blurted, and laughed.
The Jeep jolted as she drove across the old railroad tracks. Then she turned left.
‘I suppose we might listen to your suggestions,’ she relented. ‘But Neal and I will have the final say.’
‘Well, sure. Fair’s fair.’
Head turned, Neal gazed out across the field. The wasteland. In the gray of the moonlight, he saw bare dirt, gravel and scruffy bushes, scabs of pale litter, vague shapes of discarded junk.