Джеймс Чейз - One Bright Summer Morning

For some seconds, Kramer stood mouthing at Moe, his face purple, his great fists clenching and unclenching. Finally, he said in a voice that shook with rage, “You imagine I’m going to be stood up by a slob like him? I’ll get some hood to kill him. I’ll...”

“Who will you get to do it?” Moe asked. “Neither of us have gunmen to call up now, Jim. I; you did find someone, you’d have to pay him, and anyway, it would be too late. Once the Feds know we are planning a snatch, we’re through.”

Kramer walked slowly and. heavily to the window. He turned his back on Moe. He felt a nagging pain under his heart. He hadn’t been so worked up in years and this pain scared him. He stood motionless, breathing heavily until he felt the blood gradually leave his face and his heartbeats return to normal.

Moe watched him uneasily, seeing the sag to the heavy shoulders and the furtive hand pressing against the bulky left side.

Kramer turned.

“You really think these slobs can do a job?” he demanded.

“I’m sure of it,” Moe said.

Kramer hesitated, drew in a long, deep breath, then suddenly shrugged.

“Well, all right, but if I have any more trouble from them, I’ll kill them myself!”

Knowing this was a face-saving boast, Moe nodded.

“That’s right, Jim, but right now, let’s talk to them again.”

They went back into the sitting room. Riff was lighting another cigarette, his face expressionless. Chita was lolling back in her chair, her eyes closed. Her cheap dress had ridden up a little: she showed the tops of her stockings. As the two men came in, she straightened and pulled down her dress, but not before Kramer had seen the length of her slim, sensual-looking legs.

“We’ve talked about this,” Moe said before Kramer could speak. “You’ll get five grand each, but for that money, you’d better, do a job.”

Riff nodded. His dark eyes lit up, but his face remained expressionless.

“We’ll do a job,” he said, looking at Kramer. He felt a surge of triumph run through him. He knew that Chita had thought he had gone crazy when he had turned down the first offer. For an uneasy minute, he thought too he had made a mistake, but he had bluffed this old square, and he had pulled it off! “You tell us what to do and we’ll do it!”

Kramer sat down. His face was blotchy and he still felt this tugging pain on his left side. He found his eyes kept going to Chita, remembering the glimpse he had had of her white thighs. The more he looked at her, the more her sensual body disturbed him.

“I warn you two,” he said, “from now on you do what I tell you. I’m not having any trouble from either of you... understand?”

Having won his victory, Riff could afford a servile nod of his head.

“You’ll have nothing to grumble about,” he said. “You can be sure of that.”

Kramer stared at him. The expressionless, scarred face, the flat snake’s eyes bothered him a little. It was quite a time since, he had had to deal with anyone quite as dangerous as this young slob.

“Okay,” he said, paused to light a cigar, then when he had it drawing to his satisfaction, he went on, “Here’s the plan. The snatch will be easy. I’ve been checking on the girl. Every Friday morning, she drives alone to San Bernadino for a hairdressing appointment. She then lunches at the Country Club before going back home. She’s done this, routine run for the past two years. She lives with her father on a big estate out near Arrowhead Lake. There is a three-mile drive from the house down the private road to the San Bernadino highway. The entrance to the private road is guarded by a five-barred gate. There’s a telephone by the gate. A caller has to telephone the house and one of the staff releases the lock on the gate and cuts off the electrified wires on the gate with a switch.

“The girl leaves the house around nine o’clock. She reaches the gate at nine-ten.” Kramer paused and looked at Chita. “This is your job, so listen carefully. You’ll be outside the gate at nine o’clock. You’ll have a car. I’ll get you one. At nine-ten, you’ll open the hood of the car as if you have had a breakdown. Don’t be too early or you’ll have some helpful guy coming to stick his nose into the car. Moe will be with you, but he’ll be out of sight. I’ve checked the place. There’s a big clump of shrubs where he can hide and not be far from where you’ll be parked. The girl has to get out of her car to open the gate. You’ll go up to her, tell her you have a breakdown and will she give you a lift to the nearest service station. She won’t refuse you. You’re a girl on your own: she won’t have anything to be suspicious about. You get in her car and she’ll drive you towards San Bernadino. Moe will come out of hiding, get in your car and come after you.” Kramer paused and stared at Chita who was sitting forward, listening intently, her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands. “This is where you begin to earn your money. On the way, you have to convince this girl that she has to do exactly what you tell her to do. You’ll be provided with the means.” He took from his jacket pocket a small flask. “This contains sulphuric acid. Touch this cap at the top of the flask and the acid is projected with considerable force. You tell her if she doesn’t do exactly what you tell her, she’ll get the acid in her face. Make a demonstration; spray some of the acid on the leatherwork of the car. Be careful how you do it. When she sees the results, she’ll behave. I guarantee that!”

Chita nodded as she reached for the flask.

“I’ll fix it,” she said. “That’s easy. I’ve handled this stuff before.”

Kramer and Moe exchanged glances. Moe lifted his eyebrows as if to say, “I told you so, didn’t I?”

“You will direct her to Mackling Square car park. This is a big public park and at that hour you won’t have any trouble in finding room for the car. Moe will be right behind you. You and the girl will then leave her car and transfer to Moe’s car, getting in at the back. You’ll have to watch her. She’s not likely to make a break for it, but don’t relax for a moment. . understand?”

Chita nodded.

Kramer looked over at Moe.

“You’ll drive them to Wastelands. You’ve seen the map and you know where it is. You should get there around midday. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Moe said.

Chita asked, “Wastelands? What’s that?”

Kramer ignored her. He was now looking at Riff.

“Now you get your ears open and listen carefully. This is going to be your end of it. The trick in this is to find a place to hide the girl where no one will think to look for her and also find someone who will arrange about the ransom. None of us is going to contact the father. I’ve found a fella to do the job. You two ever heard of Victor Dermott?”

Chita said, “There’s a guy of that name who writes plays. You don’t mean him, do you?”

“That’s him,” Kramer said. “He has a big reputation: he’s known. People think a lot of him. I’ve picked him to talk to the father. He’ll convince him to pay up and to keep the cops off our necks.”

“Why the hell should he?” Riff demanded, scowling.

“Because he happens to have a nice-looking wife and a baby,” Kramer said, smiling evilly. “You, Moe, the girl and you,” he glanced at Chita, “will be in his house. Your job is to put such a scare into this fella he’ll do what he is told.” Kramer regarded Riff’s blistered and scarred face. Okay this slob was tricky, but Moe had picked the right one. If he couldn’t throw a scare into a man with a wife and baby, then no one could.

“I don’t get it,” Riff said. “How does this guy come into it?”

“He’s writing a play,” Kramer explained. “I happen to know the fellow who has rented him a ranch house. I’ve seen the place. I went there a couple of years ago. It’s the most awful, lonely, Godforsaken spot you can imagine, but just the place for a guy who wants some peace and quiet to write a play. He’s out there now with his wife, baby, a Vietnamese servant and an Alsatian dog.” Kramer paused to stub out his cigar, then he pointed a thick finger at Riff. “Your first job is to fix the dog and the servant, then throw a hell of a scare into the Dermotts. Get it?”