He got to St. Petersburg around noon and had to crawl through the downtown traffic.
“You’re dawdling, Tapkow.” He couldn’t see her in the back, but her voice was plain enough. There was that line between her eyes, and he knew her mouth was pulled narrow. The same kind of temper as her father’s; not hot, but cold as ice.
“Tapkow! Turn back and use the cutoff. Why do you drag us through this impossible downtown traffic?”
“Yes, miss,” he said, but he kept going straight ahead. Any minute now he’d be at the intersection, the pickup jumbled by two crazy dames. A thousand miles of watching for a chance and nothing but a blank.
“I thought I told you-”
“The light, miss. I’ll have to cross.”
Those hoods at the corner better know how to improvise. Perhaps there’d be a chance to signal them. He crawled across the intersection. Not too slow, Tapkow.
This is it.
“Miss Patricia, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to stop a minute. The drugstore. It won’t take but a minute.”
He was at the curb, the car in neutral.
“Tapkow, can’t that wait till-” But he was out already.
The convertible across the street stood by the curb as arranged. Two men were crossing over, talking. They nodded at each other, looking thoughtful and absorbed. The bastards were overdoing it. Benny tried to catch their eyes, but they never looked up. Pat’s voice came again from the window, calling his name. Let the little bitch froth at the mouth. Don’t turn, Tapkow, the drugstore now…
“Tapkow!”
He froze.
“Are you deliberately trying to ignore me?”
The shock kept him from turning.
“Never mind. I’ve come this far, I’ll get it myself.” Pat walked past him to the neat glass door of the drugstore.
He felt the cold sweat crawl over him at the sight of his failure. His breath was a pain, and his teeth clamped down on his lip so he wouldn’t scream. Only a hoarse rasp like the sound of an animal came through, hurting his throat.
It brought him back, but then it was too late anyway. The two men had opened the doors of the Cadillac, one in the front, one in the rear, and Benny heard the roar of the motor as the car shot away from the curb.
He could see Pat by the glass. She had stopped at the sound, annoyance in the fast turn of her head, and her eyes fixed on the car, which had suddenly started to move. “Hey!” She stepped to the street, bewildered. “Hey, there! Stop!”
A man turned to look, and then a woman. A girl with a child stopped near the curb. And then Benny moved.
He was at Pat’s side and his hand clamped on the arm she was raising in an angry gesture. Her mouth had opened but nothing came.
“Shut up!” he said. He said it low, but there was sharpness in his voice and it worked. “Through the door.” She turned with his push.
It wasn’t going to last. In a moment she’d find her breath, and her temper, and then…
“You-you impertinent swine! Have you completely lost your mind? Will you let go of-”
He started out fast, too fast, but then he smoothed it and it sounded like concern. “The confusion, Miss Pat, the people staring-I’m sorry, an impulse. It was a mistake. They must have made a mistake. One Cadillac looks like another, you know. They’ll be back in a minute, Miss Pat. Don’t let this upset you. In the meantime, I’ll phone the police, then your father’s place. You came here to buy something?”
She blinked at him. “Tapkow, what’s going on here?”
“The shock, Miss Patricia. For a moment I thought they were jumping the sidewalk, coming right at you. I apologize, Miss Patricia. What was it you wanted to buy?”
“Oh. Cold cream.”
“The counter is in the back, to the left. In the meantime, I’ll phone.”
He stood in the phone booth and breathed the thick air. Had it worked? She was at the cosmetics counter, buying things. And now with the snatch gone sour, with nothing to repair it… He gave his head a sharp shake. One thing was clear: He had her and he was not going to let her get away. This thing couldn’t end here, not with the girl in his hands in spite of everything.
The cosmetics counter was empty.
But when he had crashed the folding door she was there, coming toward him. “I need money. My purse is in the car.”
He reached into his pocket and gave her a bill.
“Gad, you’re sweating. Have you called?”
“Just the police. Now your father.”
She watched him close the door, then turned.
This time he took the phone off the hook and dropped his coin into the slot. He dialed a number. If only the contact was still by the phone… But it was late, maybe too late. He heard the signal and sweated. The ringing signal was repeated again and again but no one answered. He hung up. Pat was at the counter.
Perhaps the harbormaster. The yacht must still be there. He dialed again.
“Harbormaster’s Office. Rubin speaking.”
“Hello. Is there a way you can get in touch with a yacht in your harbor? Right away?”
“If they got a ship-to-shore phone. Or if they got short wave you can try the Coast Guard. Which ship is it?”
“No short wave. They don’t have short wave.” All he needed was the Coast Guard. “They got a phone setup, I think. Try and get them, will you? There’s a message.”
“What ship?”
“The Paloma. Are you trying?”
“Hold on. I’ve got to check.”
“Check what? They’re out there, aren’t they? Ring the damn phone.”
“One moment.”
Benny wiped his face and waited.
“I’m sorry, they don’t answer. I can try-Hey! She’s cast off. She’s moving. You still want me to-”
“Yes, for chrissakes, keep it up!”
“Won’t be any good much longer. They’re moving out of range. I’d say your best bet is the Coast Guard. The number is-” Benny slammed the receiver down.
Pat was at the milk bar, waiting for him. He was stuck with her.
Chapter Ten
Alverato’s men never gave Miss Driscoll a chance to explain their mistake. First she was speechless, then they didn’t listen to her, and finally the one who sat in the back with her clapped his big hand over her mouth because she was starting to get too noisy. At the pier she was first clunked over the head and then led out like a drunken woman. The onlookers only laughed.
Afterward she didn’t remember the motorboat ride too well, for during most of it she was feeling dizzy and sick, but when they started to push her up the companionway of the yacht she suddenly jerked to get free and fell into the water.
It cleared her head. They pulled her out and up the companionway again, and once inside the cabin she was glad to be alone. Perhaps she was dreaming. No. She was awake and wet. She pulled at her seersucker suit, which was clinging in a disturbing way, then she huddled down into the sofa. None of this made sense. A kidnapping? What could they want with her? Not money, because whoever owned this yacht must have plenty of that. But then, no respectable millionaire would have ordered this kind of frightful abduction. Respectable! It must be-”Goodness,” she said aloud. “A gangster! A rich gangster!”
Benny’s talk came back to her in a rush. Not until then had she felt frightened. Miss Driscoll jumped up, fluttering with panic, when the door opened.
The big man walked in alone, his red face the image of a lecher. He took quick, energetic steps and with each one the little curls on his head made springy jumps. He stopped in front of the shivering woman and said, “I’m Alverato,” and he looked her up and down. Then he stepped back, reached for a glass and bottle, and poured himself a drink. “Want one?” He waved the bottle at her.