James Chase - The World in My Pocket

As the two men walked back to their car, Delaney said, ‘Up in the mountains: that’s the one spot we haven’t checked. They could be up there.’

‘No, they couldn’t,’ Cooper said. ‘If I thought they could have got up there, I’d have checked before now, but no one could get up there. The road is washed out. You could never get the truck up that bit of road.’

‘They might have been lucky,’ Delaney said. ‘There is nowhere else to look. I’m going to check.’

Cooper got into the car and started the engine.

‘Are you really going to recommend that kid for the reward?’ he asked.

Delaney settled himself beside Cooper. There was a faraway expression in his eyes as he said, ‘What is a kid of ten going to do with five thousand bucks? His father would only grab it.’ He glanced at Cooper and his smile appeared very sincere. ‘We know who is going to get the reward, don’t we? It is stated whoever finds the truck gets the reward. I guess you and me will find it so we will get the reward.’

Cooper blew out his cheeks.

‘The way you talked to that kid had me worried.’

Delaney nodded.

‘I know how to handle kids,’ he said. ‘You’ve got to be goddamn sincere with them, otherwise they don’t trust you. I’ve always been a pretty sincere man,’ and he laughed.

It was a little after nine o’clock when Kitson came back to the camp. He carried Gypo’s shovel on his shoulder and his shirt was plastered with sweat.

Ginny was sitting on a rock in the shade of a tree, her face very white and her eyes full of unshed tears.

Bleck had got the truck out of the caravan. He was leaning against the door, his ear to the lock, his right hand moving the dial very slowly and carefully while he listened.

Kitson put down the shovel, then went over to join Ginny. He sat down at her feet and lit a cigarette, his hands unsteady.

She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder.

‘What a way to die,’ Kitson said, reaching up and covering her hand with his. ‘There was nothing I could do for him. He died while that rat and I were fighting, but even at that, I could never have got him to hospital in time.’

‘Don’t talk about it, Alex.’

‘And burying him like that: the way you bury a dog. He was a good guy, Ginny. I ought to have listened to him. He didn’t want this job. He tried to talk me into quitting. I wish I had listened to him.’

‘Yes.’

‘He said nothing good would come of it. He was right. Let’s get out of here, Ginny. You and me. As soon as it’s dark, we’ll go.’

‘Yes,’ Ginny said. ‘It’s all my fault. I’ll never forgive myself. I started it. When you went down to bury him, I sat here, thinking. I can see how wrong and how bad I’ve been. Even if we open the truck right now I wouldn’t touch any of the money. I must have been out of my mind!’

‘You mean you will come with me?’ Kitson said, not looking at her. ‘We could start a new life, Ginny. Would you marry me?’

‘If that’s what you want,’ she said. ‘But you don’t really imagine we are going to get away with this, do you? Sooner or later, they’ll get onto us.’

Kitson stubbed out his cigarette and threw it away.

‘We might be lucky. It’s worth a try. We’ll take the Buick and make for the Mexican border. They haven’t got our descriptions. If we once get to Mexico.’

Bleck yelled, ‘Hey, Kitson! Come over here! What do you imagine you are doing? Come here and give me a hand!’

Kitson and Ginny exchanged glances, then Kitson got to his feet. He walked over to the truck.

‘Can you handle a flame?’ Bleck asked. His face was set and tense, his eyes wild-looking.

‘No.’

‘Well, now’s the time to learn. We’re going to burn our way into this goddamn box! Come on — give me a hand with the cylinders.’

‘Not me,’ Kitson said quietly.

Bleck glared at him.

‘What do you mean? We’ve got to get this truck open, haven’t we?’

‘I haven’t,’ Kitson said. ‘I’m through. I shouldn’t have touched this job. You open it. The money’s all yours if you can get at it. I’m quitting.’

Bleck drew in a long slow breath.

‘Listen, you creep, I can’t handle it on my own! Give me a hand with the cylinders and stop shooting off with your mouth!’

‘As soon as it gets dark,’ Kitson said, ‘Ginny and me are leaving. You can please yourself what you do, but we’re leaving.’

‘So that’s it,’ Bleck snarled. ‘You two … well, what do you know? So you finally made it, plough boy. And you’re walking out on a million dollars. You’re crazy!’

‘That’s what we’re doing,’ Kitson said quietly.

‘You’ve got a long walk ahead of you,’ Bleck sneered.

‘We’re taking the Buick.’

‘That’s what you think. I’m using the Buick and I’m not ready to go yet.’ He thumped the side of the truck. ‘I’m busting open this truck if it’s the last thing I do! Neither you, you yellow gutted monkey, nor your floozie is going to stop me! If you want to quit, then damn well quit, but you’ll quit on your flat feet. You’re not taking the car!’

Out of the corner of his eye, Bleck saw Ginny suddenly get to her feet and begin to move towards him. He realized this was two against one. He guessed Ginny had a gun.

Kitson was saying quietly, ‘We’re leaving tonight, and we’re leaving in the car. You can come with us to the highway if you want to, but after that you’re on your own. Suit yourself.’

Bleck hesitated, then he looked towards Ginny, who was still now, her right hand held out of sight by her side. If he didn’t play this right, these two would kill him, he thought.

Shrugging his shoulders, he said to Kitson, ‘Well, okay, if that’s the way you want it. We’ve got until dark to work on the truck. That’s twelve hours. In that time we could be lucky.

You’re not just going to sit around and do nothing all that time, are you? Give me a hand with the cylinders!’

Surprised by this sudden climb down, Kitson hesitated.

‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but it’s not going to get you anywhere. You’re not going to burn a hole in that truck if you try for twenty years.’

‘We’ll see.’ Bleck glanced over at Ginny. She was still watching him, but she had relaxed. ‘You talk too much, plough boy. Come on and give me a hand.’

As Kitson moved past Bleck to the caravan, Bleck pulled his gun and rammed it into Kitson’s ribs.

‘Drop that gun!’ he yelled at Ginny, ‘or I’ll blast a hole in your boyfriend!’

Ginny let go of the gun she held in her hand. It dropped onto the grass.

Bleck backed away, covering them both.

‘Get away from it,’ he snarled.

Ginny moved to Kitson.

Bleck circled them, picked up Ginny’s gun and threw it into the lake.

‘Now you two listen to me,’ he said. ‘We’re busting this truck. Don’t kid yourselves I can’t handle you both. We’re not going to move from here until we’ve opened the truck and got the dough. If you don’t want it, I do, and I’m going to have it.’ He waved his gun at Kitson. ‘Get in there and get the cylinders out.’

Shrugging, Kitson went over to the caravan and Bleck followed him.

‘I’m not going to manage this on my own,’ Kitson said. ‘Gypo and I put them up. I know what they weigh. You’d better get hold of the other end.’

Bleck grinned. He put his gun in its holster.

‘Don’t start anything funny, plough boy,’ he said. ‘I can handle you any time.’

Kitson reached up and jerked the cylinder out of its bracket.

Bleck eased his end out and got it on his shoulder. The two men slowly backed out of the caravan.