James Chase - Knock, Knock! Who's There?

Waiting meant nothing to these men. They spent a third of their lives waiting.

Andy tapped Toni on his shoulder.

“When he shows, you have to nail him. Fluff this one and you get the treatment.”

Toni patted the target rifle. “A kid of six…”

The big, airy room with its double bed, its two armchairs and its T.V. set seemed to have shrunk. The traffic sounds coming through the open window seemed to have increased. Tension hung in the room like a black canopy.

In bra and panties, Freda lay on the bed, her arm across her eyes. Johnny sat by the telephone, his eyes on his strap watch.

“Can’t you call him now?” Freda asked, lifting her arm to look at Johnny. “For God’s sake! We’ve been waiting hours!”

“I warned you, baby,” Johnny said gently, “this is a waiting game.” Sweat was trickling down his face. “It’s only five to five.”

“I’ll go crazy if we have to wait much longer. All my goddamn life, I’ve had to wait for something!”

“Who hasn’t?” Johnny wiped his face with his handkerchief.

“Everyone is waiting for something. Take it easy, baby. Think of the boat, the sea, the sun and you and me. Think of that.”

Her arm went back across her eyes.

“Sorry, Johnny. I’m on edge.”

On edge? Johnny suppressed a sigh. He looked at her, lying there, so desirable and to him, beautiful. On edge? He felt now the chill of fear. In spite of his warnings, she didn’t seem to realize what kind of jungle they were heading for.

They waited, listening to the traffic, hearing a police whistle and in the distance, an ambulance siren. The tension in the room built up. The minute hand of Johnny’s watch crawled on. Could a minute last so long?

“Johnny!” Freda sat up. “Please call him now.”

“Okay, baby.”

He picked up the receiver and dialled Sammy’s number.

Listening to the burr-burr-burr on the line, he thought of the moment when he unlocked the locker and pulled the two heavy bags out and he closed his eyes. All that money!.

Then Sammy’s voice came on the line.

“Who’s that?”

“Sammy? Johnny. You checked the bus station?”

“I checked it, Mr. Johnny. There’s no one there.”

Johnny leaned forward, his heart beginning to thump.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I went all over it. The boys have gone.”

“Where’s Toni?” Johnny knew Capello was the danger man.

“I don’t reckon he’s back yet, Mr. Johnny. The boss sent him to Florida. I haven’t seen him.”

“Okay.” Johnny thought for a moment. The way south and out of town would take him past Sammy’s place. “Around midnight, I’ll look in with the money. Be there.”

“Six thousand, Mr. Johnny?”

“That’s it. Be there,” and Johnny hung up. He looked at Freda who had got off the bed and was watching him. “It’s okay. They really think we’re in Havana. We’ll leave here at seven-thirty. Let’s pack. I’ll fix a Hertz car.”

“You really mean it’s safe… you’ll get the money?”

Johnny put his fingers into his shirt to feel his St. Christopher medal: it was a reflex action, but when his fingers felt nothing but the sweat-coated hairs of his chest, he again heard his mother’s words: as long as you wear it nothing really bad can happen to you.

“We’re going to try, baby. Nothing in this life is safe, but we’re going to try.”

He picked up the phone book, found the number of Hertz-rent-acar and called them. They said they would deliver a car to the hotel at 19.00.

Freda pulled on her green trouser suit and she was doing her hair as Johnny hung up.

“The car’s fixed,” he said, then going to his suitcase, he took out his gun and harness.

Watching him, her eyes opened wide.

“What are you doing?”

“Just being careful, baby.” He smiled at her. “I don’t think we’ll need it, but one never knows.”

“You’re frightening me, Johnny.”

“Go on packing. This isn’t the time to be frightened… this is the time to look ahead… to the future. This time tomorrow, you and me will be worth one hundred and eighty-six thousand dollars!”

“Yes.”

While she was carefully folding her new clothes into the suitcase, Johnny looked out of the window at the blue sky and the white clouds. His fingers went to his shirt, then dropped away.

He saw the little plop of water as the medal had hit the lake. He knew he could be walking into a trap. Sammy might be betraying him. He knew that, but what else was there to live for? If he didn’t try to get the money, sooner or later, they would find him. So he had to try. He just might be lucky. He just might have the boat for a few months, but this he was sure of… they would never take him alive. He looked over at Freda as she shut the lid of the suitcase. She and he, he decided, must share this destiny. They could have luck. Again he thought of the boat. He thought of the medal. That was superstition. There was still luck left.

In less than four hours, he would know if luck meant anything.

The hours crawled by. The lights over the bus station were on. The crowds were thinning out. The big clock above the bus station read 23.00.

“I’ve got to take a pee,” Toni said. “My back teeth are floating.”

“Hurry it up!” Andy snapped and eased his aching muscles.

Toni put down the target rifle and went fast to Massino’s toilet.

As he laid down the rifle, Johnny drove into the parking lot of the bus station.

“Here we are baby,” he said, his heart thumping. “You take over. Now listen, if anything bad happens, drive away fast. You understand? Don’t wait… just go.” He took from his hip pocket the last of Sammy’s money and dropped the bills in her lap. “It’ll be all right, but I want to be sure. Go back to the Welcome hotel. You understand?”

Freda shivered.

“Yes… It will be all right, Johnny?”

He put his hand on hers.

“Don’t be scared. I’ll get the money and come right back. You take off as soon as I’m in. Head up street. It’s easy. At the traffic lights you turn left. Don’t drive too fast.”

“Oh, Johnny!”

He pulled her to him and kissed her.

“It’s going to work out.”

“I love you.”

“Those are the best words. I love you too,” then he walked into the bright lights and towards the luggage lockers.

Andy spotted him. He wasn’t fooled by his shaven head. He recognized Johnny’s walk, his square shoulders, his short, thick-set body.

“Toni!!”

Freda shifted across the seat and under the steering wheel. She stared through the dusty windshield, seeing Johnny disappear into the station. She sensed he and she were in danger. Her mind raced. Could she live on a boat? She hated the sea. Maybe once they had all this money, she could persuade him to give up this boat idea. Her dream was a luxury villa somewhere in the sun and to meet interesting people. With all that money, people would converge on them. There would be a swimming pool, a Cadillac and servants. Once a year they would go to Paris where she would buy clothes. That would be life! A boat! Who the hell but Johnny wanted a boat!

Her fingers gripped the steering wheel.

There was time… first the money. If he really loved her she could talk him out of this stupid idea of buying a boat.

Johnny reached the locker. He paused, looking right and left. The locker aisle was deserted. A voice boomed over the tannoy system: “Last bus for Miami. No. 15.” He sank the key into the lock, opened the door and dragged out the two heavy bags.

As he dumped them on the floor, his mind moved triumphantly to his dream: A forty-five-footer with shining brass work and he at the helm, steering out to sea with the spray against his face and the sun beating down on him. And in this image which flooded his mind, Freda took no part. It was he and the forty-five- footer and the rise and fall of the deck.