Джеймс Чейз - You're Dead Without Money

I said nothing would induce me to touch a rattlesnake, dead or alive.

Barney pursed his lips.

‘That’s because of your artistic temperament, Mr. Campbell. These punks aren’t made like you.’

I said that was just as well for the canning factory.

‘Yeah.’ Barney ate more of the greasy hamburger. ‘Well, these two were discharged from hospital at the identical moment Vin was getting into his Jaguar to call on Radnitz. Larry had got his nose fixed, but it was still sore and Robo had stopped passing blood. Vin’s punch in his kidneys had upset his waterworks. They had only one thought in their minds and that was to get even with Vin. Not only had they had a bad time in hospital — the matron had made them wash themselves — but they had lost money because when they stopped skinning snakes they stopped earning. So they were in a pretty mean mood. They had talked it over while in hospital and they had come to the conclusion that Vin was too tough for them to try to beat up. They weren’t going to risk another spell in hospital. They decided to find out where he lived, wait until he had gone out, then break into his place and wreck it: smash everything and pour acid on all his clothes. They liked this idea because it was without risk to themselves and it would make Vin flip his lid. The first move then was to find out where he lived.

‘Now the State hospital is within a stone’s throw of the Belvedere hotel. As these two were coming down the steps of the hospital they spotted Vin’s blue Jaguar pulled into a parking bay outside the hotel. They watched Vin lock the car and walk up the steps of the hotel to the imposing entrance. They looked at each other. The same thought had occurred to them and without hesitation, they crossed the road and approached the hotel.

‘On arriving outside the hotel, Vin found that he wasn’t as confident as he should have been. He remembered Elliot had warned him about Radnitz. Elliot had said: He’s big time and dangerous. He could put you on the ball of his thumb and make a smear of you on a wall . Although Vin had scoffed at this, it had made an impression on him and now that he was about to come face to face with Radnitz he felt uneasy. He would be crazy, he told himself as he drove along Paradise Boulevard, to take the stamps into the hotel. Radnitz might have a gunman around who would take the stamps off him and then throw him out. This would have been Vin’s mode of operation had he been in Radnitz’s place. He pulled up by the kerb and taking the plastic envelope containing the stamps from his pocket, he lifted the floor mat of the car and slid the envelope out of sight. He refixed the mat, telling himself no one would think to look in that hiding place.’ Here, Barney paused to look scornful. ‘I’m sure a gentleman of your intelligence, Mr. Campbell, would never leave stamps worth a million dollars in your car. You would take in the possibility of the car being stolen, but Vin, as I have already pointed out, had little intelligence and was a slow thinker. So that’s what he did.’

‘And now,’ I said, ‘you’re going to tell me the car was stolen?’

Barney gave me a glassy stare, hitched himself forward and ignoring my interruption, went on, ‘Vin asked for Mr. Radnitz and sent up his name. He wasn’t kept waiting and this did something for his wilting confidence. Radnitz received him in his big living room.

‘As soon as Holtz had shut the door, leaving the two men alone, Radnitz said abruptly, “You have the stamps?”

‘ “I have them. You’re offering a million dollars for them... right?”

‘Radnitz nodded.

‘ “Before parting with them,” Vin said, still very unsure of himself, “I want the money credited to my bank in New York.”

‘ “That can be arranged,” Radnitz said and held out his hand. “Show me the stamps.”

‘ “You don’t imagine I have them with me,” Vin said, forcing a grin. “I don’t trust anyone. We’ll meet at your bank this afternoon. That’ll give me time to get the stamps from where I’m keeping them. Before a witness, I’ll show you the stamps, you will then instruct your bank to telex my bank in New York, crediting me with a million dollars and then you get the stamps, but not before.”

‘Radnitz regarded him and the chill in his toad like eyes made Vin shift uneasily.

‘ “Very well,” he said. “Come to the California & Mutual Bank at three o’clock. Ask for Mr. Sanderson.” He paused, then went on, “Describe these stamps to me.”

‘Vin described the stamps.

‘ “There are eight of them?” Radnitz asked.

‘ “Yeah.” Vin found it hard to believe that this man seemed so unconcerned about paying this enormous sum without some quibble. He wondered if he dare try to up the price, but there was something about Radnitz that scared him. After all, he told himself, sweating with excitement, a million, goddamn it! was a million!

‘ “I must warn you that if you don’t produce the stamps and you are wasting my time,” Radnitz went on in his quiet guttural voice, “I will make you wish you had never been born.”

‘This threat shook Vin.

‘ “You give me the money and I’ll give you the stamps.”

‘ “Then at three o’clock this afternoon,” Radnitz said and made a gesture of dismissal.

‘Vin took the express elevator to the ground floor. What a mug Elliot was! he thought. All this fuss! This rich punk hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t even quibbled about paying for the stamps. He was so elated that he wanted to dance a jig. As the elevator doors swished open, he glanced at his watch. The time was 12.55. He had two hours to kill. What did a man do to kill time when he was worth a million dollars? Vin asked himself and he knew the answer: a man bought himself a drink and a fancy meal, and that’s what he was going to do. He took out his billfold and checked his money. He had twenty-five dollars: all the money he owned. He would blow the lot on a slap-up meal. Why should he worry? In two hours he would be worth a million!

‘Unaware that Larry, half-hidden behind an open newspaper, was watching him, Vin strode into the bar and called for a double whisky on the rocks. While waiting, he beckoned to a waiter and told him he wanted a table in the restaurant. The waiter said this could be arranged.

‘Larry had moved to the bar entrance and had overheard the conversation. He walked briskly across the lobby and out into the sunshine where Robo was waiting.

‘ “He’s going to stuff his gut,” Larry said. “We’ve lots of time. There’s a drug store down the road. Go, buy a roll of gauze bandage and hurry it up.”

‘Robo grinned and ran off.

‘After his drink, Vin swaggered into the restaurant and was conducted to a single table. The rich clients, shovelling food into their faces, looked at him and raised their eyebrows. This brash, shabbily dressed man wasn’t in their class, but Vin couldn’t care a goddamn. He sat down and surveyed the crowded restaurant with a sneering little grin. He was as good as any of these slobs, he told himself. In two hours’ time he would be worth a million dollars! In a month or so he would have his own house and his yacht. This would be the last time he ate alone. Every dollie within a five-mile radius would be fighting for his favours once the word got around how rich he was.

‘He was a little dashed that the menu was in French, but the suave Maître d’hôtel was at his elbow to help him. He finally let the Maître d’hôtel choose the meal of smoked eel and the breast of chicken in lobster sauce.

‘While he was eating, Robo came back from the drug store and joined Larry, waiting at the hotel car park.

‘Since these two had been in hospital and had been forced to wash themselves, their long hair and their beards, they now looked as respectable as any of the kids on vacation in the City and no one paid any attention to them as they converged on Vin’s Jaguar. With Robo shielding his movements Larry removed the cap on the gas tank, quickly unwound some of the bandage and inserted one end into the tank. He then paid out a long length of bandage which he concealed under the car. All this was a work of seconds. Striking a match, he set fire to the gauze which began to smoulder, running up the length of the bandage towards the gas tank.