Peter Rabe - Benny Muscles In

“Come on, come on, what’s up there?”

“It’s a safe, Al. I know where it’s hidden. No money in it-just papers and a notebook with a lock. I’ve seen it from the door. I’ve seen him hold the thing when he made his phone calls, some of them abroad, and everybody had to leave the room when he made-”

“All right, all right” Alverato walked to a porthole and looked out Then he turned.

“It’s a deal; you go up there. See me tomorrow at nine. One of the boys will pick you up at the pier.”

They started for the mountains at ten in the morning. Smiley drove and Benny sat in back. He had his arms folded and wasn’t talking.

“Mr. Tapkow?”

“Call me Benny.”

“Sure thing, Benny. You got any idea what kind of a safe it is?”

“That’s your department. All I know, it’s in the wall.”

“Sure thing, Benny.”

They drove a while.

“Benny, is it round or square? You remember?”

“Round.”

“Oh. I guess that means-”

“Say, Smiley, how about thinking to yourself? This isn’t the wrong kind of job for you, is it?”

“Oh, no, Benny. I’ve studied with the best.”

“So drive.”

“Sure thing, Benny.”

They drove for two hours and turned into the mountains. After that came a gravel road that wound through the woods.

The big gate came without warning. Benny got out, stopped at the left gatepost, and felt the mortared crevices between the big stones. One of them swung out and showed a telephone.

Benny talked, and then the gates swung open. They drove through, up the winding road, and stopped at the porch of the lodge. There was an old man on the steps and he was carrying a shotgun.

“Come on out and show yourselves,” he called.

They did.

“Mr. Benny! I sure am glad to see you again. And who might that be by your side?”

“That’s Smiley, Mr. Huston. A new man.”

“Mr. Pendleton never said nothin’ about him comin’ out.”

“That’s why he’s with me. It’s O.K., Huston, you can put that pepper-grinder down.”

“Well, come on up, then, but Mr. Pendleton never said nothin’ about no Smiley comin’ out here. In fact, Mr. Pendleton never said nothin’ about comin’ out this month at all, except maybe.”

Benny walked up to the old man. He sounded casual. “He said maybe, huh? He didn’t say any more than that, did he?”

“He said maybe, young feller. Don’t you know what he’s planning to do? Don’t you-Hey, what’s that Smiley feller fixin’ to do there?”

Huston took a step down from the porch, watching Smiley pull a long black satchel and a small oxygen tank out of the car. “I think I better-” and that’s as far as he got. Benny had stepped behind the old man and with a swift, efficient swing sapped him on the back of the head. Huston sank into himself and rolled down the wooden stairs.

Benny led the way through the big living room, through the kitchen, and into a pantry. He opened two cabinet doors-one on the bottom, one to the left-and then he pushed against the molding of the doorframe.

One of the pantry shelves started to hum and move, and there was the safe; small, round, flush in the wall.

Smiley took one look, dropped his tools, and went to work with his fingers.

First Benny watched. Then he went outside, came back. “You getting anywhere, Smiley?”

“Yeah.”

“How much longer?”

“Not much.”

Benny stood by. He was tapping his foot.

“Benny, for chrissakes, stand someplace else. You’re making me nervous.”

“Keep working.”

Smiley straightened up and turned. “I don’t know if you know anything about this business, Tapkow, but I need to concentrate. So stop tapping your foot, huh?”

Smiley worked again. Benny was fidgeting his hat around, pushing it deep over his eyes.

“Look, Smiley…”

“You can stop twitching. Here she comes.” He yanked the safe open.

“O.K. Everything.” Benny’s voice came like a hiss. “Stuff ‘em in your pocket. You dropped some. The notebook-give it to me. O.K., now let’s blow. The hell with the tools. Leave ‘em.”

“I don’t leave my tools, Tapkow.”

“You damn well-” He stopped. First they heard it and then they both saw it. The pantry shelf was sliding, slowly creeping back into place, pushing the open safe door until the lugs hit the steel rim of the safe and everything stopped.

“You brought a helpmate, Tapkow,” said the polite voice.

They turned quickly and saw the gaunt man in the dark suit. He stood by the pantry door, one hand in the pocket of his narrow-shouldered coat, the other on the molding of the door.

“Pendleton!” Benny’s voice was pure hate.

The man’s face started to smile, as if it pained him, but his close-set eyes never changed.

With a sudden movement Benny tossed the satchel at Pendleton and broke into a run. He dashed to the door leading into the kitchen, Smiley following close behind. They circled around the long table, ran through another door, down a hall, and into a study with tall French doors that gave onto the terrace.

Pendleton hadn’t moved. He didn’t have to. Before the two men were halfway across the study, they saw the short guy with the. 45, and it was between them and the terrace outside. When they turned back there was another one. They stopped.

Nobody moved while the slow, precise sound of creaking shoes came down the hall. The door opened and Pendleton came in.

“Tapkow,” he said, “will you step into the hall, please?”

Benny moved when the gun jabbed into his back. The man with the gun followed.

Pendleton stepped aside to let them pass.

“Go halfway down the hall, Tapkow, and there you will find one of the papers. You dropped it in your haste. Pick it up, bring it back, and put it on the piano.”

Benny did.

“Your friend’s name is Smiley, I believe? Smiley, step over to the piano, empty your pockets of everything you stole from the safe, and put it with the paper already there. And you, Tapkow, do the same.”

They did. Again Benny wasn’t afraid of Pendleton, afraid for his life, scared of the crazy vengeance that Pendleton might take, but he could see another chance run out. And that, to Benny, was like death.

Smiley stood close by, fumbling in his pockets. There was sweat on his upper lip, and he licked it.

“Is this it?” he whispered close to Benny’s face.

“You needn’t whisper.” Pendleton’s voice came clear and close. He was standing behind them. “To answer your question, this is not it. Finish what you are doing and I will allow you to return to Alverato. Alive, in case you are worried. You will return to Alverato and tell him that I resent his crude attempts at forcing this issue. You will tell him that I am not interested in the least in any further business dealings with him. And now that you are finished, turn around and head out of that door.”

Pendleton stepped aside and the two men turned. Smiley was still licking the sweat off his lip and Benny’s face was drawn with a stubborn hope. Perhaps-His sleeve caught in the frame of a small picture that stood on the piano. With an irritated gesture he pulled his arm and the thing flew to the floor. In the confusion, his heel came down on the glass, breaking it and grinding the splinters into the portrait.

Pendleton had not said a word.

The gunmen filed after Tapkow and Smiley, and Pendleton followed last, closing the doors as he went. They walked out of the study, through the solarium, into a dining room, then through the big living room and out on the porch.

“Stop.” Pendleton’s voice was precise. “Go to the car, Smiley. Tapkow, you stand where you are.”