Richard Stark - The Jugger

She nodded. “Just what I said.”

“All right. So what did you tell him the second time?”

“That you weren’t the guy. When I first saw you in that office there, I figured you’d done it, and I did like that guy whether you believe it or not, so that’s why I fingered you like I did. But then I got to thinking, and you come up with the alibi and the buddy-buddy with the cop, so when I saw Regan again I told him I made a mistake, you weren’t the guy after all.”

“You told him I wasn’t the guy Tiftus saw in the lobby.”

“Right.”

Parker thought it over. He’d already told Regan that Tiftus had gone to see him that morning, and that he’d seen Tiftus on the street a while later. He had to include that, plus what the woman had already told Regan, and make it all work out to a story that pointed off in some brand new direction.

While he thought, she just sat there in the other chair, smoked her cigarette, and watched him. She seemed a little puzzled, and hesitated.

After a while he said, “All right, we got a new story to tell Regan. We don’t change the old story, we just add to it. You and Tiftus got here, saw a guy in the lobby, Tiftus said he knew him, went away, came back, and said the guy beat him up and threatened to kill him. When you saw me you thought I was the guy, but you were wrong. The guy was tall and built like me, but younger, and he had blond hair. And what you remember is, Tiftus told you his name. When he saw the guy in the lobby he said, ‘Why, there’s Jimmy Chambers.’ You got that? He said, ‘Why, there’s Jimmy Chambers.’ ”

She nodded. “Why, there’s Jimmy Chambers,” she said. “But I don’t get the point.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get something else going on Jimmy Chambers from the other side, through Younger.”

“But who is this Jimmy Chambers? Is that just a name you made up?”

“No. It’s a guy with a record, Regan won’t have any trouble finding out there’s a real Jimmy Chambers, and Jimmy Chambers did know Tiftus, so everything’s going to check.”

She said, “He wasn’t really in town, was he?”

“No. Now, after...”

She said, “I can’t do that.”

“You can’t do what?”

“I can’t get this fella Chambers in trouble. Why don’t we just make up some name, it’d be the same.”

“No, it wouldn’t. Chambers is a name Regan can check. And Chambers got killed in an explosion a few months ago and nobody official knows about it, so don’t worry about getting him in trouble.”

“Is that the truth?”

“Happened on a job we were both on. I don’t sic the law on my own kind.”

“All right,” she said. “When do you want me to do this?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“They’re burying him tomorrow morning.”

He had to think for a second, and then he realized she meant Tiftus. He said, “Then Regan will be with you at the funeral. Tell him then.”

“It just occurs to me, like that?”

“No. You remembered it tonight, and you weren’t going to say anything because you didn’t think Regan trusted you. But you want to see your man avenged, so you’re going to tell him anyway.”

“I hope he’ll believe me,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Sure.” But then she brightened and said, “I can do a real scene, a whole graveside bit. Cry and carry on and throw myself on the coffin, the whole thing. I never done anything like that before.”

He said, “Don’t overdo it, that’s all.”

“Don’t you worry about me,” she told him. “You may not have realized it, but I am by profession an actress.”

“Good.” He got to his feet in a hurry to be gone.

She said, “You got to go already? Stick around awhile.”

“Some other time.”

She gave him an actress smile. “You want a rain check?”

“Yeah.”

It was nearly midnight before Younger called back. Parker had been sitting in the dark in the living room of Joe’s house, waiting. He’d come back from seeing Rhonda a little before ten, and called police headquarters to leave a message for Younger to call him. Then two hours went by, and Parker just sat and waited, not thinking about anything in particular, not planning, not being impatient or irritable. It worked that way with him sometimes, when he knew where he stood and how the play should go from there on; he could sit alone in the dark and wait, as silent and patient as a stone.

Until finally the phone rang and it was Younger. The first thing he said was, “You found it?”

“No. I want to talk to you.”

“What about?”

“The money, and something else. Come on over here.”

“It’s late, Willis.”

“We’ve got to get this done tonight. You’re going to Tiftus’ funeral tomorrow?”

“Regan wants me to go. Him, too, he’s coming along.”

“Good. Come over here now, it won’t take long.”

Younger grumbled, but after a while he said he’d be right there. Parker hung up and got to his feet and went around the house turning on lights. He knew other people thought it strange when he sat in the dark, and he didn’t want Younger geechy about anything. He made himself a cup of coffee and went back to the living room to wait, and ten minutes later the doorbell rang.

When Parker opened the door, Younger came in complaining. “You know it’s after midnight? This better be worth it.”

“Sit down, Younger, this won’t take long.”

They both sat down in the living room, and Parker said, “I want you to think about something. You’re looking for the guy killed Tiftus. But Regan’s looking for him, too. What if Regan comes up with him first?”

“I take him right away from him. I’m still in charge, Willis, I already told you that.”

Parker shook his head. “No. You take him away after Regan tells you he’s got him. Is Regan going to tell you right away?”

“He sure as hell better.” Younger was insulted at the idea.

“Why?” Parker asked him. “What if he holds the guy an hour, six hours, questions him a little, and doesn’t say anything to you till he’s done with the guy. What do you do about it?”

“I could put in a complaint against him, God damn it!”

“What would that mean to Regan? What would it mean to his bosses? Some hick little town police chief teed off because Regan didn’t hold his hand and keep calling him on the phone.”

It was true, and Younger had to know it. He tried to bluster, but it didn’t work. He said, finally, “What’s the point? What difference does it make?”

“If Regan gets him first,” Parker told him, “Regan will make him spill. You know he will. He thinks there’s something going between you and me anyway. He’s suspicious. He won’t turn the guy over to you until he finds out what’s going on, and then it’s too late, the whole thing’s out in the open, and we don’t stand a chance to get the money.”

Younger took out a cigar and fooled with it in his hands but didn’t unwrap or open it. He said, “So what can we do?”

“Get the case closed. Turn up a killer, so it gets Regan out of the picture.”

“How do we do that? You mean frame somebody? We couldn’t get away with it, not even me, I couldn’t get away with it.”

“We don’t have to have a body,” Parker told him, “just a name. What you got to do, you got to go straight down to headquarters and send off a teletype request to Washington, you want any information on a man named Jimmy Chambers, known to be an associate of a man named Adolph Tiftus.”

“Jimmy Chambers? What the hell for?”

“Shut up and listen to me.” Younger looked insulted again, but he didn’t say any more, and Parker went right on, not noticing any looks Younger gave him. “Today, this afternoon, I told you something I’d been holding back. I told you something Tiftus said to me when I saw him in the street before he got killed. Remember my story with Regan? I saw Tiftus twice, the first time when he came to my hotel room and a little while later on the street.”