“Yes, Jackie.”
“And nobody coming out there?”
“It’s closed. Daddy is in-”
“I’m two blocks away. Get your car out, roll by the drugstore, and I’ll meet you on the curb. And keep the motor going.”
“Right now, Jackie?”
“Who’s in the apartment?”
“Winnie, but you don’t know him. He’s just somebody I know and when I heard about you-“
“Never mind. Can you leave?”
“Of course, Jackie.”
“Ten minutes. And bring the keys for that house.”
He hung up, waited five minutes, and Lynn’s convertible pulled up. She had the top down. She looked anxious and beautiful.
“Lynn. Now don’t talk. Let’s have those house keys and get out of the seat. In two days you can come out to the place and pick up your car. I’ve-“
“I’m coming along,” she said, and she looked at him as if she weren’t ever going to let go again.
He bent over the door, talked fast.
“This is trouble. Lynn. Stay away and I’m sorry I had to call you. Thanks for the car. I’ll-“
He didn’t have to finish. There wasn’t any point to it unless he was going to toss her out of the car and leave her lying in the street. She had moved over, wanting him to drive, but that’s as far as she was going.
Jesso jumped in and slammed the door. They sat like that while he made the top come up, and when he pinched his finger putting the catch on the top he swore as if nobody were listening. Then he drove. Once she tried to ask him questions, but it didn’t work. He took the Queensboro Bridge and headed out Northern Boulevard.
They weren’t far from La Guardia. Why sit around in Oyster Bay when he could take off for California, three thousand miles away from Gluck, pick up the rest of his dough, and then head back for Germany? The only trouble was he didn’t know about the flight, had no reservation. Better yet, forget about that loot in L.A., head back for Europe, leave Gluck and Lynn and all of it behind.
He made a sharp turn south and headed for Idlewild. His ticket back to Frankfurt was good any day, there was a good chance of getting a reservation at short notice, and it was seven-thirty. The Stratoliner was due to leave the same time every day, nine P.M.
“Darling, Oyster Bay is the other way. You shouldn’t have turned off.”
“I changed my mind. We’re going to Idlewild.”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t know where he was going from Idlewild, but she thought she was going along.
“It’s better that way all around. You won’t get involved any more.”
“Jackie-”
“Give up, Lynn. I’m just using your car.”
Then they both kept still. When he approached the airport he could recognize it by the lights. It was dark by now. The traffic tower glowed with a bluish light and the building below had a long bright line of windows that looked like teeth. Almost by instinct he swung away from the drive leading to the gates and cruised the parking lot first. Take it slow, check how it looks, because maybe Gluck has notions about airports and railway stations and maybe not.
He didn’t see a thing. He cruised the entrance once, didn’t dare try it twice. Park a while, maybe? And let the reservations get used up. Or maybe do some necking in the front seat just so time would pass and he wouldn’t have to risk it out there, risk the trip, the dough, Renette, and his life.
“I’m getting out.” He braked the car past the entrance. He gave it one more look, picked up his brief case from the floor. “Lynn, now hear me good. I’m going out there and maybe nothing happens.” He paused, reached to his belt. “See this?” She saw the gun. “And this?” She watched him cock the hammer. “I’m going out there with this thing in my hand. Here, in my pocket. And maybe you’ll hear about it from where you’re sitting. So sit, don’t move, and if I’m not back ten minutes later, take off and be glad you’re rid of it all. So long.” He got out of the car.
And then he was by the bright entrance. There were cars parked along the curb, one was empty, one had an old couple in it, the other one a G.I. and his mother. Nobody looked like a gorilla or like Gluck.
When Jesso had his hand on the glass door he didn’t freeze, he almost died. The man’s voice said, “Wait, Jackie!”
Chapter Twenty-one
He snapped around like a spring and would have had the gun out if the couple hadn’t come through the door and bumped his arm.
“Jackie, your left,” and then he saw Murph. He ambled toward the door, past Jesso, and while he passed he said without moving his mouth, “There’s a nest of ‘em inside. Blow fast.”
Jesso was off. He sprinted to the convertible down by the curve. Lynn had the door open and he almost jumped into her lap.
“Hold on,” he said, and the car tore off
He almost went crazy at the Cross Boulevard intersection, but then he was twisting the car through the clover leaf and along the freeway that went across Jamaica Bay.
“Darling, are they chasing us?”
“Shut up a minute.”
He looked back, but all the cars looked alike. He was cursing under his breath till the lit highway stopped swimming and then he felt better. He was at the toll gate before he knew it and Lynn was ready with the money. Good, smart Lynn. And when he twisted down the ramp to Channel Drive, going out the length of Long Island he felt for a second the way he and Lynn had felt a long time ago. But then only Lynn felt that way any more.
“Jackie? Can I talk now?”
“Sorry about this thing, Lynn.”
“I’m glad I helped you, Jackie.”
“Yeah. It’s not over yet.”
“Bad, Jackie?”
“No. Just business.”
She slid closer to him. “It’s the first time you’ve taken me on one of your business trips.”
“Hope it’s the last, kid. Just hope that.”
“But I remember another one,” she went on. “That was business, too, you said. And I waited for you at Lake Tahoe and then you came back from Reno and joined me. Remember, Jackie?”
He sat up and made it hard for her to lean up against him. “I told you to lay off that stuff, Lynn. I told you it’s no good.”
She sat up too. He caught her profile and the line of her suit where the dashlight showed it, and even though she wasn’t like Renette, she reminded him of her. She wasn’t built like Renette, she was slimmer, but there was an expression about her face that reminded him. Lynn, too, used to look much colder.
“You told me,” she said. “You told me, you told me. You think it’s as easy as that?” But she didn’t sound mean about it; her voice was pleading.
He didn’t answer.
“You think you can ever hurt me enough so I’ll let go?”
“I’ve never tried to hurt you.”
“I know,” she said. “Perhaps you should.”
“Perhaps I should,” he said.
They came to Cedarhurst and Jesso slowed down. He pulled the car up, put it in neutral, and turned toward her.
“Listen to me, Lynn. You know what I’ve got to say about you and me, so I won’t say it again. But here’s something new. This time you hang around and I think you might get killed.”
She looked at him, but only her eyes moved.
“So get out.”
She sat still.
“Get out of the car. Give me two days and report it stolen.”
“I won’t,” she said.
“Or I’ll clip you and throw you out.”
“Clip me,” she said, and it sounded funny in her finishing-school diction.
He almost hauled out, but when he saw how she closed her eyes and put up her chin, he couldn’t do it. At first he thought he wanted to laugh, but that wasn’t it. He thought that if she meant something to him she wouldn’t look pitiful sitting there like that.
Her eyes were still closed and she started to tremble.
“For God’s sake, open up and relax,” he yelled at her. He felt like an idiot, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“You could have done it, Jackie.” Jesso put the car into gear, held it.
“If this kills you, Lynn, I won’t give a damn.”
“I won’t either,” she said, and he knew she meant it more than he did. He turned the car toward the North Shore of Long Island and didn’t talk the rest of the way.