“That’s why I’m here, Ellen. I want to help.”
“Sure,” Malone said. “Get me that money.”
“Ask me something that’s possible, Wes. Anyway, I think there’s something we can do.”
“Without the twenty-four thousand?” Malone laughed. “Furia thinks I’ve lifted it. You figured out a way to convince him I didn’t?”
“I’ve been thinking over what you told me, I mean about what you did on your own.” Secco seemed to be picking his way through the available words and choosing only the finest. “Maybe when they rented that cabin at the Lake last summer they at the same time rented a second cabin as a backup just in case. I thought it worth a try.”
Malone raised his head. “I never thought of that.”
“Only they didn’t. I’ve spent the day so far doing another check of the real estate offices.” He added quickly, “Don’t worry. I didn’t tip the hand.”
Malone slumped back. Ellen just sat there.
“All the other possibilities were either vacated as of Labor Day or they’re rented the year round by people who are known. So wherever they’ve dug in this time it’s likely not at the Lake. It could be anywhere, out of the county even. It would take a hundred men-”
“You mustn’t do that!” Ellen cried.
“Ellen, I told you. I wouldn’t take chances with Barbara’s safety.”
“All I know is I want my baby back.”
“Isn’t that what we all want? Look. Wes, you listening?”
“I’m listening,” Malone said.
“This woman who hijacked the payroll, Goldie. She could be working with Furia against the other man, Hinch, to squeeze Hinch out. They could be both putting on an act for Hinch’s benefit.”
“Damn,” Malone said. “I never thought of that, either.”
“But I doubt it. From what you told me about the way Furia acted when they were here in your house, it’s likelier she’s doublecrossing the two of them the way you doped it.”
“Round and round we go,” Malone said.
“No, listen.” Chief Secco leaned forward in his effort to hold them, they slipped away so easily. “The way you described this Hinch, Wes, he seems to be the weak sister of the three, a dumb character.”
“He hasn’t a brain in his head.”
“The dumb ones of a gang are the ones to go after. In this case, from what you say, the groundwork with Hinch has already been laid.”
“How do you mean?”
“You told me that the first time they came here-when they first took Barbara-Furia told Hinch to meet them at the cabin and Hinch was upset, you got the impression he was worried they might run out on him.”
“So?”
“You also said that the second time they came, after you got Barbara back, when you told them the money’d been stolen from the house and Ellen accused Furia of having been the one, Hinch seemed half convinced it was true. That’s what I mean by the groundwork being laid. He doesn’t trust Furia. He’s already got his doubts. Suppose we could convince him.”
“That Furia took the money? But he didn’t, John. Goldie Vorshek took it.”
“We know that and the Vorshek woman knows it, but Hinch and Furia don’t.” There was nothing in the chief’s voice or manner to suggest that he was about to sell something, he was being very careful about that. “If we can get Hinch to believing that Furia is playing him for a sucker, even a bear of little brain like that is going to start thinking of his own hide. It’s a cinch he’s in this thing for his cut of the loot. If there’s no cut for him he’s going to want out. The only way Hinch could get out now is by making a deal with us, in his own interest and to get back at the partner taking him for a ride. He’ll make contact. He’ll tell us where they’re hiding.
He might even help us when we close in. That’s the way I figure it.”
“And that’s the way my Bibby would get killed,” Ellen said. “Absolutely no.”
“Ellen,” Secco said. “Would Barbara be in more danger than she’s in right now if they got to distrusting one another? She might even be in less, because if the plan worked out Hinch would have a personal interest in seeing she stays safe. He’d know what would happen to him if he let Furia hurt her.” Secco took out his pipe and fiddled with it. He put it back in his pocket. “Look, I’m not saying this is guaranteed. There are a lot of ifs when you’re dealing with dangerous morons like these. But as things stand, Furia won’t give up Barbara without the money, if then-I have to be frank with you, Ellen-and we don’t have the money to give them. You’ve got to accept how things are, not how you’d like them to be.”
Ellen was giving her head little stubborn shakes.
“But, of course, you’ve got to make the decision. I don’t have the right to make it for you. Even if I had, I wouldn’t.”
“The answer is no,” Ellen said.
“Ellen.” There was a hint of life in Malone’s eyes. “Maybe John has something. God knows we don’t. Maybe such a trick… “
“No.”
“Wait. John, how would you get to Hinch? What do you have in mind?”
“Wherever they’re hiding out it’s a sure thing they’ve got a radio. So that’s our channel of communication. Manufactured story, some cooked-up announcements on the air, I don’t know, I haven’t laid it out yet. But the point is, if we can get the right message through to him-”
“But Furia and this Goldie would hear it, too.”
“Let them. It would make her more jittery than she already is, a doublecross inside the gang is the last thing she wants the other two to start kicking around. And as far as Furia’s concerned, it puts him on the defensive with Hinch and that could make them go for each other’s throats. It’s a tactic that’s broken up a lot of gangs. But as I say, I can’t make the decision for you people. She’s your flesh and blood.”
“It’s up to you, Ellen,” Malone said. “What do you say?”
“Oh, God.”
Secco got up and went to the window. He took out his pipe again and sucked on it emptily. His back said he wasn’t there.
“Loney, help me, help me,” Ellen moaned.
“Do you want me to make the decision?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know.”
“You’ve got to know. There’s no time for this, Ellen. Do I decide for both of us, or do you, or what?”
“They’ll murder her, Loney.”
“They may murder her anyway.”
She stiffened as if he had struck her.
Ellen, Ellen, how else do you prepare yourself?
“Well?”
He could just hear her. “Whatever you say.”
“John,” Malone said.
Secco turned around.
“We go for broke.”
It turned out that the chief had Harvey Rudd waiting in the wagon. “I brought Harvey along in case you said yes,” Secco said. “He’ll have to be briefed, Wes. I told him nothing.”
Harvey Rudd was The Voice of Taugus Valley. He was an ex-Maine news broadcaster who had passed up a top job with a New York network to start an independent radio station, WRUD, in Tonekeneke Falls. He owned it, programed it, edited its news, sometimes took its mike, and he had been known to sweep it out. He was a fortyish Down Easter with a long Yank nose and a short Yank tongue.