Peter Rabe - Benny Muscles In

For the rest of the trip he didn’t talk. Alverato played cards with Birdie, while Pat lay in a fitful sleep, her thin body curled on the seat. Benny sat watching. She’d lost too much weight, she wasn’t well. He wondered for a moment how she’d come out of it all. She’d served her purpose, or almost, now, and it wouldn’t be long before she’d be out of the picture. For a moment he thought of her as the girl he had never got to know, never bothered to know; then he stopped there. A little later he gave her one more jolt in a glass of the raw whisky he’d bought. He hoped it would make her feel better.

After they landed, she left the field on Alverato’s arm. It was a gray, rainy day and she said she loved a gray day. She was hopped up again and didn’t even miss him.

Benny watched them leave across the flat runway, shiny with rain. Birdie was carrying a suitcase. Then Benny left the plane. Just a while back he had thought it was going to be different. He had thought about leaving the plane and feeling different. Not so tense any longer, not waiting so hard any more.

He turned up his collar and walked away. It hadn’t worked. He was going to wait again.

Pendleton sat in his gold-and-black room with the view of the city. It was mostly gray mist now, but Pendleton had not been watching the city. The large plate glass was dotted with fat little drops and every so often they gathered body and shot down the smooth surface in quick little streams. Pendleton was watching that. He sat in the large gold-and-black room and his hands made a dry sound when he rubbed his palms together.

It was an aimless sitting. Pendleton rarely was aimless. The man Turk opened a door and Pendleton turned with a sharp movement. “What is it this time?”

“The phone again, Mr. Pendleton.”

“Louisiana?”

“No, Mr. Pendleton. It’s Alverato.”

Pendleton got up. Except for the lines down the side of his mouth, he looked as controlled as ever. “Tell him again. I am not interested.”

“Mr. Pendleton, he wants to know if you’re interested in hearing about your daughter.”

Pendleton didn’t turn; only his back stiffened.

He walked to the phone then, making precise little circles around the furniture.

“This is Pendleton,” he said into the phone. “You have my daughter?”

“You want to come over and talk business?”

“Of course, Alverato. When?”

“Two at my place. In the country.” And Alverato hung up.

Pendleton’s car reached the estate at three minutes before two. Turk was driving and Pendleton sat in the back, shades drawn, and his dry hands worked on the head of his cane in small spasms. A hidden device swung the large gates open and the car entered. Then the gate clicked shut again.

The big car had hardly moved around the first bend of the drive when they were stopped again, this time by a wide-shouldered guy who carried a Tommy gun. He stood in the middle of the road and raised his arm. When Pendleton snapped the shades of his windows up, he saw two more men coming out of the woods from the left, two from the right, and one from behind. They all carried Tommy guns.

The car had slowed, but apparently not enough. With an unexpected burst one of the guns ripped loose. The car jerked a few times and came to a bumpy stop with one front wheel ripped into shreds. When they opened the doors they waved at a pale and confused Pendleton, who stumbled from his seat, speechless. He stood in a circle of Tommy guns and then his pallid face turned dark. “The effrontery-” He was hoarse.

“Sorry, Mr. Pendleton. One of the boys got nervous.”

The man who had spoken followed him all the way to the house keeping the Tommy gun trained on his back. At the door, Birdie met them both and took Pendleton straight to Alverato.

The room was long. A narrow carpet led past an empty fireplace, a library table, the kind of urn that usually stands in a garden, and up to a massive desk. Alverato was sitting there and he watched Pendleton come the whole length of the room. There was no second chair by the desk.

“Hi, Pendy. Was that your car had a blowout?”

While Alverato laughed, Pendleton found his voice. It shook at first and sounded cracked, but then it was as cold as ever.

“You called concerning my daughter. I am here now-”

“Fine, Pendy, fine. You want a cigar?”

“Alverato. Will you come to the point of this visit? I have tolerated your idiot’s pranks only-”

“Pranks?” Alverato leaned back with a broad grin. “What pranks, Pendy?”

“That scene from a gangster movie outside.”

Alverato laughed for a minute, but then he leaned forward, his eyes mean. “It wasn’t so funny, was it, Pendleton? It kinda shook you up and brought you in line, didn’t it? Outdated methods, huh? But they work, don’t they, Pendleton?”

Pendleton’s mouth twitched, but then he got it under control. “I am still assuming you have my daughter. Let’s cut the horseplay and talk about that.”

“All right.” Alverato slapped his hand on the desk. “Let’s get to it. I got what you want, you got what I want. We trade.”

“You have what, Alverato?”

Alverato reached into a drawer and drew out some photos. “Your daughter,” he said.

The first one showed Pat at a table, frowning into the camera. Then there was one of Pat in bed, sleeping. The last one had her lying on a couch with a newspaper in her hand.

“Well, Pendleton?”

“Where is she?”

“Don’t be an ass.”

Pendleton stiffened. “This proves nothing. The photos could have been taken months ago.”

“Look, Wrinkles, I’m better than that. Take a look at the newspaper she’s holding and then try arguing with me.” He gave Pendleton a magnifying glass. “Look at it, Pendleton.” The date on the paper was one day ago. “Pendleton, you’re hooked.”

In the silence that followed, neither of them moved. “What do you want, Alverato?”

“Now you’re talking.” Alverato jumped up from the desk and came around to Pendleton’s side. “Seeing how you love your daughter, I want the works. I want the contact in Italy, the delivery route, the works.”

“I refuse.” Pendleton said it blindly.

“You know, Pendy, that kid of yours has a lot of life left in her.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Just try me. Just try me, Wrinkles, and tonight I’ll send her back to you in a sack.”

Pendleton bared his long teeth for a moment and sucked the air into his lungs. When he exhaled he looked shrunken. “Very well. When do I get my daughter?”

“How do you want her?”

“For heaven’s sake, Alverato-”

“You want her alive, she’ll be delivered after we get confirmation of the order we’re going to place.”

Pendleton stared at the wall, his face a mask. “Very well. We can hear from the contact tonight.”

“That’s not all I want, Pendleton. I want the works, how it’s done-”

“One moment.” Pendleton turned his head slowly. “You don’t understand. You cannot do it alone. The contact is in Italy, but the method of entry is arranged here. Even if I told you all the details of the operation, it would do you no good. It is my presence that counts at this end.”

“Why?”

“That’s the way it’s organized. Personal arrangements are delicate things, Alverato, especially when the risk is large. The arrangements-”

“So we rearrange. I’ll put a man on it and you show him the ropes. You show him every step of the way. That’s part of the deal.”

“I agreed to give you the name of the Italian contact, Alverato. There was no mention of anything else.”

“There is now, Pendleton. That understood?”