Peter Rabe - Benny Muscles In

“Stop the car,” Pat said, and she sounded like a child who had just broken her toy. “I’m coming up front.”

She came up front and sat down with her legs tucked under her. Benny saw she wasn’t any too sober herself, but she just sat without talking. The line was between her brows and she stared straight ahead.

“Drive like hell, Tapkow.”

She was holding onto the bottle and the whisky in it kept getting lower.

He drove fast. Every so often he wiped his hands on the scat.

When he heard the clunk he turned his head and saw the bottle on the floor. Pat sat slouched against the door, mouth open. Her eyes were only partly closed but Benny knew she was out.

This was it.

He waited another five minutes and then he came to a gentle stop. Letting the motor idle, he edged carefully out of his seat, out of the car, and then gently tried the handle of the rear door. Both women breathed like sleepers. There were woods on his side of the highway, thick enough to hide a body that wasn’t moving. He’d dump her there and take off. He wouldn’t need much of a head start before she’d wake up wondering what in hell had happened. And if she was under enough, he could take her skirt off or something, and she might wait a while before she dared step out on the highway and flag a ride.

Benny opened the door, put one leg inside, and leaned over Miss Driscoll. She just breathed. He worked his hands under her slowly and started to tug. She didn’t weigh so much, but it was awkward. Leaning closer, with his arms solidly around her now, he could feel her breath on his face. Her eyelids fluttered a little and her mouth seemed to twitch. Suddenly the eyes were open, staring him straight in the face no more than a few inches away. She’ll scream, Benny thought. Then her arms came up, and clutched him by the neck. Her lips came full on his, pushing against him. The eyes were closed now.

With a mighty effort Benny yanked himself free and staggered backward out of the car. Still lurching, he slammed the rear door shut and jumped behind the wheel. The car took off with a jolt and a roar.

“Easy, boy. Easy there.” Pat sat up, looking around wildly. She gave a weak grin and slumped back against the door. From the way she was breathing, Benny knew she was out again.

He drove. He didn’t look in the rear-view mirror. Then came a little pat on his shoulder. “Is she asleep, Mr. Tapkow?”

“Yeah.”

Silence. Then another tap. “It seems I was asleep, too, Mr. Tapkow. I was dreaming.”

“Yeah. So was I.”

“Yeah,” she said.

He didn’t have a chance from then on. For the rest of the trip-when they stayed overnight, when they stopped to eat, while driving-the two women stuck together like glue. Pat had given up playing games and Miss Driscoll was full of small talk. So no matter how he figured it, there wasn’t a chance to pry the two of them apart. He was on schedule, he was delivering, but it also looked as if he was going to gum the works. It was a good thing they weren’t trying to talk to him. His skin prickled and there was a dry clot in his throat.

He got to St. Petersburg around noon and had to crawl through the downtown traffic.

“You’re dawdling, Tapkow.” He couldn’t see her in the back, but her voice was plain enough. There was that line between her eyes, and he knew her mouth was pulled narrow. The same kind of temper as her father’s; not hot, but cold as ice.

“Tapkow! Turn back and use the cutoff. Why do you drag us through this impossible downtown traffic?”

“Yes, miss,” he said, but he kept going straight ahead. Any minute now he’d be at the intersection, the pickup jumbled by two crazy dames. A thousand miles of watching for a chance and nothing but a blank.

“I thought I told you-”

“The light, miss. I’ll have to cross.”

Those hoods at the corner better know how to improvise. Perhaps there’d be a chance to signal them. He crawled across the intersection. Not too slow, Tapkow.

This is it.

“Miss Patricia, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to stop a minute. The drugstore. It won’t take but a minute.”

He was at the curb, the car in neutral.

“Tapkow, can’t that wait till-” But he was out already.

The convertible across the street stood by the curb as arranged. Two men were crossing over, talking. They nodded at each other, looking thoughtful and absorbed. The bastards were overdoing it. Benny tried to catch their eyes, but they never looked up. Pat’s voice came again from the window, calling his name. Let the little bitch froth at the mouth. Don’t turn, Tapkow, the drugstore now…

“Tapkow!”

He froze.

“Are you deliberately trying to ignore me?”

The shock kept him from turning.

“Never mind. I’ve come this far, I’ll get it myself.” Pat walked past him to the neat glass door of the drugstore.

He felt the cold sweat crawl over him at the sight of his failure. His breath was a pain, and his teeth clamped down on his lip so he wouldn’t scream. Only a hoarse rasp like the sound of an animal came through, hurting his throat.

It brought him back, but then it was too late anyway. The two men had opened the doors of the Cadillac, one in the front, one in the rear, and Benny heard the roar of the motor as the car shot away from the curb.

He could see Pat by the glass. She had stopped at the sound, annoyance in the fast turn of her head, and her eyes fixed on the car, which had suddenly started to move. “Hey!” She stepped to the street, bewildered. “Hey, there! Stop!”

A man turned to look, and then a woman. A girl with a child stopped near the curb. And then Benny moved.

He was at Pat’s side and his hand clamped on the arm she was raising in an angry gesture. Her mouth had opened but nothing came.

“Shut up!” he said. He said it low, but there was sharpness in his voice and it worked. “Through the door.” She turned with his push.

It wasn’t going to last. In a moment she’d find her breath, and her temper, and then…

“You-you impertinent swine! Have you completely lost your mind? Will you let go of-”

He started out fast, too fast, but then he smoothed it and it sounded like concern. “The confusion, Miss Pat, the people staring-I’m sorry, an impulse. It was a mistake. They must have made a mistake. One Cadillac looks like another, you know. They’ll be back in a minute, Miss Pat. Don’t let this upset you. In the meantime, I’ll phone the police, then your father’s place. You came here to buy something?”

She blinked at him. “Tapkow, what’s going on here?”

“The shock, Miss Patricia. For a moment I thought they were jumping the sidewalk, coming right at you. I apologize, Miss Patricia. What was it you wanted to buy?”

“Oh. Cold cream.”

“The counter is in the back, to the left. In the meantime, I’ll phone.”

He stood in the phone booth and breathed the thick air. Had it worked? She was at the cosmetics counter, buying things. And now with the snatch gone sour, with nothing to repair it… He gave his head a sharp shake. One thing was clear: He had her and he was not going to let her get away. This thing couldn’t end here, not with the girl in his hands in spite of everything.

The cosmetics counter was empty.

But when he had crashed the folding door she was there, coming toward him. “I need money. My purse is in the car.”

He reached into his pocket and gave her a bill.

“Gad, you’re sweating. Have you called?”

“Just the police. Now your father.”

She watched him close the door, then turned.

This time he took the phone off the hook and dropped his coin into the slot. He dialed a number. If only the contact was still by the phone… But it was late, maybe too late. He heard the signal and sweated. The ringing signal was repeated again and again but no one answered. He hung up. Pat was at the counter.