‘Can we be friends?’ he asked anxiously. ‘I’m sure you’re as lonely as I am.’
I stared him over.
‘The price?’
‘Ten dollars. I’ll give you a wonderful time.’
‘Have you a pad?’
‘There’s a hotel up the street... they know me.’
I finished the beer and got to my feet.
‘So what are we waiting for?’
We went out into the hot darkness and started down the street. He smiled anxiously at me from time to time, keeping close to me as if he was afraid of losing me. He drew away from me as we passed a cop who stared at us and then spat in the gutter.
‘It’s not far, dear,’ the boy said, ‘just at the end of the street.’
I looked back. The cop was out of sight and there was no one to be seen. We were passing an alley lined with stinking trash bins. I caught hold of him and shoved him into the alley.
He gave a startled squeak of protest, but it was no more than a squeak. I took pleasure in hitting him because his kind wasn’t my kind. My fist thudded against his jaw and I eased him down into the muck, letting his head fall on a pile of mouldy potato peelings. Then bending over him, I took off his gold watch — probably a present from an infatuated client. With a quick look up and down the street, I walked away.
I headed back to my hotel.
Passing another stinking trash bin, I paused to drop the watch into it. I moved some litter to cover the watch and then walked on.
Now, I really felt ten feet tall.
I had broken the ice. I was a thief!
I woke the next morning from a restless sleep and I heard a voice speaking clearly in my mind. The voice was saying, ‘You must leave here this morning and go back to Paradise City. You must see Dr. Melish and tell him what is happening to you. You must tell him what you did last night and ask for his help.’
I became fully awake and looked around the room. The voice had been so loud and clear that I thought someone was in the room.
Then I realised I had been dreaming and I dropped back on the pillow.
There was no question of going back. Melish couldn’t help me because I didn’t want to be helped. I thought of Rhea and my desire for her became so bad, I had to get out of bed and stand under the cold shower until the heat of my body diminished. Then I shaved, put on the sweat shirt and jeans and went down to the restaurant to drink two cups of bad coffee.
There were several elderly salesmen eating breakfast while they consulted their notebooks. None of them paid any attention to me. I lit a cigarette and thought about last night.
What a gutless performance!
How Rhea would have sneered had she known!
How I had fumbled the operation of stealing a car! Then this stupid little pansy. Anyone could have done that! What risk had I taken? I had stolen his watch which was probably his dearest possession. That was nothing to be proud of. I remembered Spooky Jinx had called me Cheapie. On my record of last night that was exactly what I was: Cheapie.
But tonight, I told myself, would be different. Tonight, I was determined to move into the big league, but this needed planning. I sat there, smoking and thinking, and finally I came up with a plan of operation.
Leaving the hotel, I got into the Buick and drove out of town. Some hundred miles north on the freeway was a little town called Jason’s Halt. It was an orange-growing town: clean, prosperous and small. Its main street was crowded with trucks and orange brokers doing deals. I found parking space, then walked along the hot sidewalk until I found a self-service store. I shoved my way through the crowd, busy getting in the weekend groceries: a surging mass of people, and to them, I was the invisible man.
I found my way to the snack bar, ate a steak sandwich and drank a beer, then took the escalator to the toy department. There, I asked the girl for a toy revolver, mentioning a non-existent nephew. She showed me an assortment of revolvers, automatics and even a Colonel Cody Colt. I chose a Beretta, made famous by 007. It was an exact replica and looked menacing when I held it in my hand. I then went down to a lower floor and bought a sling bag with TWA stamped on its sides. From there I went to the men’s shop and after a search, I bought a dark red jacket with black patch pockets: a jacket that would be remembered. From there, I went into the gimmick department and bought a Beade wig and a pair of silvered sunglasses through which you could see, but rendered your face anonymous.
All these items I put in the sling bag.
I got back to Luceville around 16.15.
As I was driving to the hotel I passed the city hospital and I remembered I hadn’t seen Jenny and she would be wondering about me. A car pulled out from a parking bay, so I drove into the space, acting on impulse. I sat for some minutes trying to make up my mind if I wanted to see Jenny again. I was inclined not to see her, but the other part of my mind pulled. I got out of the car and walked over to the bookstall and bought a copy of Forsyth’s Day of the Jackal and Graham Greene’s great classic, The Power and the Glory.
‘I was wondering about you,’ Jenny said after thanking me for the books. ‘I wish you would go home.’
‘Don’t fuss.’ I smiled at her, thinking how different she was to Rhea. ‘I’m not yet ready for the lush and plush life of Paradise City.’
‘But what are you doing?’
I shrugged.
‘I get around. This town fascinates me.’
‘You have hurt your hand.’
My knuckles were still raw from hitting Rhea’s brother.
‘I had trouble with my car... the spanner slipped. How are you, Jenny?’
‘Mending. The ankle takes time.’
I told her about Hatchetface and the teenager.
‘She doesn’t want me.’
‘Miss Mathis is very professional.’ Jenny shook her head. ‘Do you mind?’
‘I can’t say I do.’ A pause, then I asked her what I wanted to know. ‘Tell me something, Jenny. Rhea Morgan’s brother... he seemed a tough character. What does he do for a living or don’t you know?’
‘Fel?’
‘Is that his name... Fel Morgan?’
‘Feldon... his grandfather was Feldon Morgan. He was named after him. His grandfather was shot while robbing a bank.’
‘He was? Do you know how Fel makes a living?’
‘Something to do with junk cars... selling scrap... that sort of thing. Why are you interested?’
‘That bungalow... what a place! I didn’t think anyone making any kind of a living could live there.’
‘Oh yes. Some people just don’t care where or how they live.’ She made a grimace. ‘I worry about Rhea. She could so easily get into trouble again. Her brother’s no help. She has this obsession about getting rich. She just won’t accept the fact that if you want money you must work for it... she says she won’t wait that long. I’ve talked to her so often, but I can’t get through. I’m beginning to think she’s a hopeless case. I hate saying this about anyone, but Rhea could be a hopeless case. I feel she will be in trouble again soon and then she will go back to prison for years.’
‘Well, it’s her funeral,’ I said. ‘But it does tell me what a tough job you have.’
She lifted her hand and dropped it on the sheet.
‘I’m not complaining. It’s my job.’ A pause, then she went on, ‘People have to live their own lives. Every so often, I feel I do influence them and that is rewarding.’ She smiled at me. ‘Can’t I influence you, Larry, just a little? Won’t you go home and forget this town... just to please me?’
Thoughts flashed through my mind. Jenny was a Do-gooder: a woman walking up an escalator going the other way. I had other things on my mind. This was the opportunity to con her. She would be laid up for another two weeks and couldn’t check on me.