Elmore Leonard - Out of Sight

Out in the hall again Buddy said to Foley, "They're gonna gang-bang her. What're we supposed to do, watch?"

Moselle was on the sofa, cigarette in one hand, holding her robe closed with the other. Her gaze moved from the detective waiting in the foyer with his phone to Karen Sisco standing over her. More white people in the house these days than when white people lived in the house.

"I tell him it's none of my business. See, but he likes to brag on what he's doing. He knows I ain't gonna tell on him. But now this time he wants me to tell something. And if I do, I know it will mess me up good. See, there's two white men with him…"

"Tonight?" Karen said.

Moselle nodded and drew on her cigarette, wanting to tell it right, but not tell too much.

"Right now, this minute. They left with Maurice." Moselle paused, her gaze going to the foyer, then raising to Karen Sisco again.

"But they not coming back with him." She watched Karen ease down to sit on the edge of the sofa, close to her.

"He's leaving them there."

She understood.

"You could say that."

"You know their names?"

Moselle shook her head.

"Never was introduced."

This Karen said, "Are you playing with me?" Sounding irritated, not the nice person anymore.

"What's your game?

What're you telling me?" Getting a fierce look in her eyes.

Moselle leaned away from her.

"I don't know the man's name till Maurice tells me. See, then I'm suppose to tell the police who this person is and where to find him, out at this rich man's house. Okay, if I do, it's gonna mess up my life good and I'll prob'ly go to jail. But if I don't, then I'm gonna be gone from this world, honey. That's what I'm telling you."

Karen seemed to ease back saying, "But why give up this particular guy?"

"

"Cause Maurice wants the reward you get for turning him in. Hoping, you understand, they pay off if the man's dead."

Moselle stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray she held on the arm of the sofa, feeling Karen Sisco staring at her.

"See, the man's an escaped convict from Florida."

Feeling her staring and then feeling her get up and when Moselle looked, Karen in her long coat was across the room already, leaving.

They had their masks off and had torn up Ripley's bedroom: drawers pulled out and dumped, pictures off the walls, bed covers stripped, the mattress slashed.

Foley and Buddy, back from checking rooms, stood in the hall looking in. Foley said, "Would you hide walking-around money in a mattress?"

"I leave mine on the dresser," Buddy said.

"This is a bunch of shit. These assholes are gonna end up with TV sets."

"You want to leave?"

"I'm ready anytime," Buddy said, "but what about the maid, and the kid?"

"I don't know," Foley said, looking at them now, on the sofa in the sitting room area. He did know, but didn't want to say.

They seemed rigid, holding each other's hands, afraid to move.

Kenneth, near them, was taking bottles of wine and booze from a cabinet and lining them up on the wet bar.

Buddy said, "I can see you don't have your heart in this."

"I never did."

"Before we go," Buddy said, "I think we're gonna have to settle with these assholes."

Foley nodded.

"Yeah, I guess." He turned to Buddy then.

"Listen, why don't you leave and I'll clean up."

"What're you talking about?" Buddy frowning.

Foley didn't answer because there was no way to explain what he felt, that these were the final scenes of his life playing out, that pretty soon it would be over and he was resigned to it happening. Here, not against the fence in some penitentiary. It was like if Clyde Barrow, driving along that county road in '34, knew he was going to run into all those Texas Rangers and there was nothing he could do about it. How did you explain that kind of feeling to anybody? Even to Buddy. Buddy was confused enough already and it made him appear restless. Foley said, "Take the truck and get out of here."

Buddy, still frowning, said, "I don't know what you're thinking, but we're going together, once I get the keys off a Kenneth."

They heard Maurice then, in there trying on clothes, say to Kenneth,

"Put some music on," and saw Kenneth at the wet bar going through a rack of CDs.

"All he's got's Frank Sinatra," Kenneth said, "some others, little Sammy Davis, all ofay jive."

"Put Frank Sinatra on," Maurice said, looking at himself in a full-length mirror.

"I can go Frank Sinatra."

"Hey, shit, the man's got Esther Phillips."

"Now you talking. Put Esther on."

"

"Confessin' the Blues."

" "See has it got "Long John Blues' on it."

Foley and Buddy, by the doorway, looked from Maurice to Kenneth.

"Yeah, number ten."

"Play it, man. Woman goes to see Long John, this seven foot-tall dentist," Maurice said, looking at himself turning this way and that in the mirror, like the suitcoat might fit him if he caught it at a certain angle, not hang on him like a sack, the tips of his fingers showing.

"Yeah, that's it, Long John telling the woman her cavity needs filling," Maurice watching himself, head bobbing slow motion, barely moving but on the beat. He caught Foley and Buddy in the mirror watching him from the doorway.

"How y'all doing? You find anything?"

Foley held up empty hands. Then turned as White Boy brushed past them into the room, White Boy holding up a wad of bills in a rubber band.

"Six hundred, found it in the kitchen."

"That's a start," Maurice said, as Alexander came off the sofa.

"It's mine. Mr. Ripley gave it to me."

Alexander made a grab for the money and White Boy held it at arm's length above his head.

"Come on-I need it for school."

White Boy said, "Oh, okay, here," offering the wad of bills; but when Alexander tried to take it, White Boy raised his arm straight up in the air again, grinning at him, holding him off with his other hand.

"You rob kids?" Buddy said.

"How about old women?"

"Anybody we can," Kenneth said, his head bobbing to Esther Phillips.

"You a robber, it's what you do, man. You rob people."

Buddy started into the room and Foley took hold of his arm to stop him.

They watched White Boy play with Alexander, waving the money at him, then raising it out of reach when he made a grab for it. They watched Midge get up to help Alexander and Kenneth right away step in front of her holding up his hands, feinting with them at her breasts. They watched White Boy drag Alexander by the hair to a closet, throw him inside and lock the door.

Buddy pulled his arm free and Foley said, "Stay out of it."

"I can't."

"Let's go see the Snoop."

They walked through to where he stood looking at himself in the mirror.

"There's no safe," Foley said.

"There's no cash or stones hidden anywhere."

Maurice studied his profile.

"You look good?"

"Glenn was dreaming."

"Fucking Glenn," Maurice said.

"Yeah, well, you take what you can get. You want a suit? You want a sport coat? The ones on the floor there, you can have any of those, I can't use 'em.

You want shoes? The man has, must be twenty pair of shoes in the closet. Too big for me." He looked past their reflections and yelled,

"White Boy! They's some cardboard boxes in the truck? Dump out the shit's in 'em and bring the boxes up here.

We'll take the wine and the booze… Hey, and look in the kitchen, the freezer. See what looks good to you."

They saw White Boy in the mirror start out and then stop and look back.

"How about somebody helping me?" Maurice said, "Y'all want to give him a hand?"

"We're leaving," Foley said.

"We all are, pretty soon now." Maurice turned and yelled at White Boy,

"Get Kenneth!"