Ed McBain: King's Ransom

“Don’t talk like that, Sy. I don’t…”

“Why? What are you gonna do about it?”

“I’ll—Just don’t talk like that.”

“You sound actually threatening, you know that? I got to watch my step, huh? Got to be careful. Not like little Blondie there, huh? He don’t have to be careful.” Sy paused and then looked at the radio receiver. “Eddie shoulda turned on the monster before he went out. We ain’t heard nothing for a long while.”

“There’s nothing to hear but the road blocks.”

“So? I find road blocks interesting.” He paused and studied her. “Listen, you want a little drink?”

“So early in the morning?”

“Sure. Puts hair on your chest. Come on.”

“No.”

“What’s the matter, baby? Don’t you drink?”

“I drink.”

“So, come on, have one. For Pete’s sake, we’re sitting on a fortune, you realize it? Are we supposed to mope around like a couple of corpses? What the hell is this, a graveyard? Come on, baby, loosen up.”

“If you want a drink, take one. Nobody’s stopping you.”

“Right, baby! Nobody stops me from nothing I want!” He studied her speculatively for a moment, and then walked to the dresser. Picking up a pint bottle from its top, he held it aloft, said, “Cheers,” and tilted it to his mouth. “Good stuff. Change your mind?”

“I don’t want any. Where’s Eddie?”

“You getting nervous, huh?” He held the bottle out to Jeff. “Want a slug, kid? Warm the cockles. No, huh?” He shrugged and wiped his mouth. “You worry too much, Kathy. We could be having ourselves a real ball, insteada worrying. A real ball.” He smiled and nodded, staring at her. Kathy moved toward the window again, crossing her arms over the front of her sweater. “You know what your trouble is, baby? You don’t know how to live, that’s what. You’re all tensed up because darling hubby went to the grocery store. You got to learn to relax. Look at me. Cops covering the city like a plague. Do I worry? Hell, no.”

“How can I relax when Eddie may have run into trouble?”

“You can start by forgetting all about Eddie. Come on, have a little drink.”

“Oh, Sy, don’t bother me! I don’t want a drink.”

“Excuse me, I didn’t know I was bothering you. Okay, stand around and worry if that’s what you want to do. I can think of a lot better ways to kill the time, though.” He walked closer to her, his eyes on the front of her sweater. “A dame like you should have good clothes, you know that? Where’d you get that crumby, moth-eaten sweater? Eddie should be ashamed of himself! You should be wearing fancy, lacy stuff. It ain’t every dame can fill clothes like you.”

“I’m not interested.”

“What the hell’s the matter now? For Pete’s sake, I’m complimenting you!”

“Thanks,” she said dryly.

“Boy, there sure ain’t no mutual-affection society here, is there? All the affection goes out to Blondie, don’t it? Or Eddie, depending on who’s around. But none to Sy, that’s for sure. Well, you want to know what I think? I think you’re wasting your time with a punk like Eddie, that’s what I think. Best thing could happen to you is for the bulls to pick him up.”

“Shut up,” Kathy said.

“I’m shooting you the goods. Pretty little piece like you tied down to a second-rate punk. Who needs him? I can run this job alone. Honey, you’re wasting your talents on him. What you need is somebody who knows the score, somebody who can—”

“Shut up, Sy!”

“Tell me the truth, ain’t you hoping they pick him up? You was against this job to begin with, wasn’t you? All you’re worried about is little Blondie over there, will we hurt him, will we—”

“Shut up, shut up !”

“What is it? You got a yen for a family of your own? Is that it?” He laughed bitterly and tilted the bottle to his mouth again. Kathy walked to the window and raised the shade. Sy pulled the bottle from his mouth and shouted, “Lower the goddamn shade!” She glared at him sullenly and then obeyed. “Boy, this is some cheerful party, ain’t it? Will I be glad when this gig is over. Man!” He held the bottle aloft in a toast. “Here’s to the object of the lady’s affection, the dear little kidnap victim. Cheers, Blondie.” He drank. “How about that, you little bastard? I just drank a toast to you.”

Jeff did not answer.

“I just toasted you,” Sy repeated. “What’s the matter, ain’t you got no manners? Didn’t your mother never teach you to say thanks? Or don’t you know how to talk?”

“I know how to talk,” Jeff said. He was still trembling, both from the cold and from a very real fear which had begun the moment Eddie left the farmhouse.

“Then say something,” Sy said. “The goddamn cops are chasing all over the city looking for me, and my partner is out marketing and I’m cooped up here with a frigid bitch, and on top of all that I drink a toast to your health, you little bastard. That’s pretty damn white of me, I would say. How about a thank-you.”

“Thank you.”

“Or maybe you don’t know the reason I’m cooped up here with Little Miss Cold Ass. Maybe you don’t know you’re the reason, huh? Or maybe you think I like this?” He paused. “You know you’re the cause of my misery?”

“I… Yes.”

“Oh, you know, huh?”

“Y-yes,” Jeff said, hugging the blanket to him.

“So what the hell’re you gonna do about it?”

“Stop picking on the boy, Sy. And watch your language.”

“Stop picking on the boy, Sy, and watch your language,” he mimicked. “Good to see that something gets a rise out of you, anyway. I was beginning to think maybe you had died and was already laid out.” He turned back to Jeff. “I asked you a question, Blondie.”

“I…I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Well, that’s a hell of an attitude!” He paused. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose…”

“Yes, sir !”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“One hell of an attitude, I would say. You’re the cause of all my misery, and you don’t know what to do about it. Well, how about thinking a little? A smart little bastard like you should be able to figure out something, don’t you think?”

“Sy, leave him alone!”

“Yeah, and watch my language, I know. Well, you can go straight to hell, baby.”

“Why are you picking on the boy?”

“Who’s picking on him? We’re chatting. You want me to stop?”

“Yes.”

“Make it worth my while. Convince me.” Sy laughed and turned back to Jeff. “Start thinking, kid. I’m waiting.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, sir.”

“I want you to come up with some ideas.”

“I haven’t got any ideas, sir.”

“Well, now, ain’t that a crying shame? No ideas. Teh, tch, tch. You just don’t care what happens to me, is that it?”

“I…I don’t know what to say, sir.”

“Say whatever the hell’s in your head, stupid! When somebody asks you something, say what you think!”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Okay. Would you like to see me get the electric chair?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Sir!”

“Sir,” Jeff said, beginning to get rattled. “I don’t know, sir.”

“You do know. Yes or no? Give me a yes or no answer. You want me to get the electric chair?”

“Sy, stop it!”

“Yes or no?” Sy persisted.

“Yes, sir. I…”

“What?”

“I would like to see you get…”

“What? What, you little bastard!”

“Sy, you’re scaring him half to death! Can’t you see?”

“You keep your ass out of this! Unless you’ve got some ideas!”