Peter Jenkins - Drugged into sin

"Well, it doesn't sound all that bad, and I do need the money if I want to stay in New York and be with Christine," he said. "It was nice of you to offer me something." He had actually been ready to consider something much worse and by comparison this didn't sound too bad at all. All he had to do was drive a car, and that was easy enough.

Price got out of his chair for the first time and came over and shook Jimmy's hand again. "You've got a good little girl there," looking over at Chris. "The money will help you keep her entertained. She deserves the best. I have a fiercely paternal attitude towards my girls and want to make sure they are kept happy," he said, laughing menacingly.

Price introduced him around the room and then got up as if to leave.

"George will drive you wherever you want to go," he said. "We'll get in touch with you in a couple of days."

He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small wad of bills.

"Here's a little something on account," he said peeling off several hundreds, "and don't be a stranger at the house, always glad to see you."

Jimmy moved to a hotel not far from the house where Christine was staying and waited for Price to get in touch with him. He had seen Chris in the afternoons and they had made love in his room or in hers, but he had not seen Price since that one afternoon. Finally, Price sent one of his men to see him and he was told that his first job was for the next night and that George would pick him up and take him back to the "hideout".

He felt a certain apprehension at his first venture into crime, but it seemed such an ordinary sort of crime that aside from its degree, he tried to look on it as simply as smuggling an extra quart of liquor through customs as he had done when he had returned from the Bahamas on vacation one Spring Vacation at school. He was just going to transport some whiskey to be sold at an under-retail price, and it really didn't seem to be too big of a thing.

At the hideout everyone was waiting, only none of the girls were there, and he wondered where Christine was at that moment.

He had no way of knowing that at that very moment she was being madly screwed by some of Price's preferred clientele at a very private party and as a result of the drugs, was enjoying every minute of it!

"Okay," Price said. "You other two can take the wagon, just in case we get more than we bargained for."

Jimmy wondered what could possibly go wrong. Wasn't this supposed to be easy, nothing to it. Wasn't that what Price had said? Anyway, it was too late now for him to back out.

It was just after midnight when they started through the dark streets, each car taking a different route. In the back of the wagon, there were a few pieces of furniture as a disguise.

He drove easily, following Price's instructions and wound his way through some of the back alleys of Harlem.

"All right," Price said. "That'll do, pull over to that corner." They had been driving for about a half an hour.

He pulled up just beyond the corner, away from the street light, which yellowed the sooty walls of the last row of tenement houses. They sat there for awhile and waited, but Jimmy didn't have enough nerve to ask why. He was content to let things take their course.

In a few minutes, the occupants of the van skidded round a corner at the opposite end of the street, saw them and turned down an alleyway, going up on the narrow pavement at one side and pulled in front of them, barely missing the side of the car.

"Okay, follow them," Price commanded sharply.

He slipped the car into gear and the car sped down the dim street and turned the corner after the van. They crossed a broader street still following the large truck in front of them until he saw the iron gates of the dock area.

"What about the man at the gate," he asked.

"That's okay," Price growled, "he's a friend of ours."

They swept through the gate and Jimmy glanced at the little sentry box at the entrance to the dock. There was no guard!

He followed the van, feeling suddenly apprehensive and on edge. They dodged among a number of long heavy wooden buildings and then along a concrete runway. He pulled into the shadow of one of the buildings just behind the van. Price opened the door of the car and jumped out.

"Just hang on a moment," he called to Jimmy, "we'll see if the coast is clear."

He disappeared behind the building with George and other two men, each in their respective cars.

He waited impatiently, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel nervously, and was surprised at the difference in his nerve between now and when he felt he had smuggled the booze out of the Bahamas. He stared round at the little rear window and saw another one of Price's men standing there, grinning back at him.

After several minutes, Price reappeared and motioned to them as he climbed into the van that he had been following.

The caravan of automobiles moved around to the back of the dock warehouse, where the broad doors had already been opened and the rest of Price's men were hauling crates to the outside and loading them into the car and into the van.

"Hurry up, you guys," Price barked, standing beside the cab of the van. "The narks are at the other end now, but they'll be down this way before too long!" As he spoke, he looked at Jimmy.

"When we're ready to go," he said quietly, "just turn round this warehouse and go back the way we came."

"Okay," Jimmy heard himself answering. He felt some admiration for Price's cool and organizational manner. It was just a matter of habit, he surmised.

The men worked rapidly and smoothly for about another ten minutes and by that time all the crates had been loaded into the van and the car, with the blind of furniture covering them.

Jimmy was surprised that there wasn't a night watchman or some sort of guard watching the place, but he didn't know anything about this sort of thing, and obviously Price had had it all planned.

The loading was finished and George was pushing the last crate straight and the rest were moving back to the van when Price saw two figures in the distance coming up the long concrete lane between the warehouses.

"Christ," he snapped. "Get out of here fast, the narks!"

As he spoke, the van shot forward and disappeared around the building. Jimmy could feel a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead and his palms. Now was the time to be cool, he told himself, trying to regain his composure. He slipped the car into gear once again and drove towards the two figures which had now broken into a fast run and were flashing powerful flash lights down the dimly lit walk, and then, he too, turned quickly around in back of the warehouse and skidded into the direction from which he had come.

"Speed it up," Price snapped, "or they'll get us at the gate."

He put his foot down to the floor, swerving dangerously round the building, missing the corners by inches and caught the van just as they, too, reached the gate and screeched through the narrow opening.

"Nice going," Price complimented him, and he began to unwind somewhat after their close call.

Behind them somewhere he heard a police siren as they raced at breakneck speed through the narrow, deserted alleyways and into the streets.

They had managed to shake the police and they slowed down as they neared the respectable east side street of the hideout, swerved into the garage and the doors closed behind them.

All the men were waiting inside the house when they walked in through an entrance which he had never seen before.

"A nice clean job," he said. "It was the driving that did it. We were almost in a spot when the narks showed up!"

"Well, we have enough stuff to last for awhile," one of the men chuckled.

"Yes indeed, we're in the chips again," another added.