Elmore Leonard - Cat Chaser

“In the house,” Moran said.

Yeah, something was up: Mary trying to act natural as she looked at Moran, Christ, gripping the arms of the chair. You’d have to pry her hands off. Moran walked over to the house with him and held the door open. Very polite this morning.

“It’s through the bedroom.”

“Thank you, George, I appreciate it. Be only a minute.”

Moran walked around to the kitchen side of the counter. He moved the blender and the sack of lemons aside. Squared the telephone around on the end of the counter. He got a bottle of scotch from the cupboard. Brought a bowl of ice out of the refrigerator. Found two clean glasses. He poured about an ounce and a half of scotch into one and drank it down. He heard the toilet flush. He put ice in the glasses and was pouring scotch when Jiggs came out pushing his glasses up, buttoning his seersucker jacket and then unbuttoning it to leave it open.

“There he is,” Jiggs said. “I had to take a leak, George, but I also hoped we’d get a chance to talk, just the two of us if that was possible. You understand, not get emotional about anything, right? Why do that? What I thought, let’s lay it out, look over what we have here.”

Jiggs stepped back from the counter and glanced around the room.

“You don’t have a tape going, any of that kinda stuff, do you, George? I wouldn’t think so, but somebody might’ve talked you into it.” He was looking at the hi-fi system now.

“I can put a record on,” Moran said. “You like J. Geils?”

Coming back to the counter Jiggs said, “George, I don’t know J. Geils from jaywalking, which is about the only thing I never was arrested for. That’s an exaggeration, of course, but the point I want to make-” He picked up the drink Moran set before him. “Thank you, I believe I will. Little pick-me-up. The point I want to make, I’ve been arrested, well, quite a few times, suspicion of this and that, I think on account of the people I been associating with the past few years. But I never in my life been convicted of anything. I’m cherry, George, as far as doing any time and I’m sure you can understand why. Because I’m careful. Because I don’t go walking in someplace I don’t know what’s on the other side of the door. Entrapment don’t ever work with me, George; because I don’t partake of controlled substances, I don’t fuck lady cops dressed up like hookers and I don’t deal with people I don’t know. So there you are. If you think you got me to walk into something here and you’re gonna pull the rope and the fucking net drops on me, don’t do it. Okay? Let’s just talk quietly and make sure we understand each other.”

“Fine,” Moran said. “What do you want?”

“I want the two suitcases and everything was in ’em. You can tell me something first,” Jiggs said, “cause the suspense is killing me. How much we talking about?”

“Two million two hundred thousand,” Moran said.

“I’ll tell you something. I enjoy talking to you, George, you got a nice easy style. I told you that once before. All right, how ’bout this? You keep the two hunner K, that’s yours, for your trouble. You and the widow’re gonna have more dough’n you’ll ever be able to spend anyway. And you give me the rest. How’s that sound?”

“What if we don’t give it to you?”

“Then you got a problem. I put a lot of time in this, George. See, I don’t have a pension plan, profit-sharing, anything like that. This’s gonna be my retirement and if it doesn’t come through I can’t complain to some insurance company, can I? No, I got to take my beef to you and Mary and you know what I mean by that. See, I’d rather part friends, George. Maybe stop around and see you sometime in the future-how’re things going? Shoot the shit about old times-by the way, something else I got to know. Where’d he keep it? The money.”

“Under his bed,” Moran said.

“Come on, you’re kidding me. Guys like that”-Jiggs shook his head-”they’re simpleminded, you know it? Under the fucking bed… Now where is it, under yours? I’d believe it. Jesus, I’d believe anything now. Whatta you say, George?”

“Mary says no,” Moran said. “You don’t get it.”

“Yeah, but what do you say?”

“It’s her money.”

“I bet you can talk her into it, George. Lemme show you something.” Jiggs got off the stool again and looked around the room. “What’s that down there, top of the bookcase? Looks like a vase.”

“It’s a vase,” Moran said.

“You buy that thing, George?”

“It was here when I moved in.”

“Keep looking at it,” Jiggs said. “Don’t look at me, look at the vase. I’m gonna show you a magic trick I do.” Jiggs moved back toward the front door so Moran would have to turn to face him, see what he was doing. “You looking at it?”

“I’m looking at it,” Moran said, staring at the vase that was about twelve or fourteen inches high and glazed with the portrait of an old-fashioned girl holding a bouquet of flowers.

“You ready?” Jiggs said.

“I’m ready,” Moran said.

The vase came apart, fragments of china flying outward with only the sound of it breaking, pieces hitting the floor.

Moran turned to Jiggs who was holding an automatic with a silencer attached that looked bigger than the gun.

“That’s my magic act,” Jiggs said. “Not a sound, not even that little BB-gun pop you usually get with a suppressor. Could be in a movie, out the track, you’re walking up Collins Avenue, anywhere. You fall over. Person right next to you’d never hear a thing. What’s this, a heart attack?… You understand what I’m saying? Could happen anytime, anywhere.” Jiggs came back to the counter unscrewing the silencer. He dropped it into his coat pocket as he got up on the stool. “Or, you give me the suitcases, we part friends, wish each other luck.”

Moran said, “Is that the one you used on de Boya?”

“George, you don’t gimme any credit at all, do you? You think I’m gonna walk around with a piece they can do a ballistics on? I got I think four of these left now. Regular model Thirty-nine Smith only modified. Designed originally for the Seals in Vietnam. Guys’d slip ashore in the Mekong, take out some slopes and their buddies never hear a thing. You fire a subsonic nine-millimeter round. Notice the sights’re raised so you can aim over the suppressor. Got a nice foam-rubber grip.” He held the pistol up for Moran to look at closely.

“Pretty nice.”

Jiggs slipped it into his right-hand coat pocket and picked up his drink to take a sip. “Have I made my point?”

“I believe you,” Moran said.

“See, I was to demonstrate this in front of Mrs. de Boya,” Jiggs said, “she’d be liable to come apart on me.”

“I doubt it,” Moran said.

“Well, playing it safe, I know I can talk to you, George. You got a nice even temper’ment.” He laid his arms on the edge of the counter and took another sip of his drink. “Tastes pretty good. I don’t usually drink during the day except special occasions. Last time I had a drink in fact we were at the Mutiny. Here we got another special occasion. So what do you say?”

“I just want to ask you something,” Moran said and then paused. “Well, you’ve probably answered it.”

“Go ahead, George, don’t be bashful.”

“Well, you wouldn’t want to just walk away, forget the whole thing?”

“Oh my,” Jiggs said, “I thought you were listening. What were you doing there, George, having dirty thoughts while I’m telling you my story?”

“I want to be sure I have it straight,” Moran said. “You’re saying if we don’t give you the money you’re gonna kill both of us. It’s that simple, right? It might not be right now-”