There wasn’t anything to do but drive to the nearest bar. We went inside and ordered beers and he picked up a nickel from the change and walked back toward the telephone booth.
I sat there wondering what the hell to do and how I could have figured everything so wrong. Everything had worked perfectly up to where he had just taken a good long look and done nothing.
He came back after a while. When I saw his face I stopped worrying about the plan not working. I’ve seen guys throw all their money on a horse and steal more to throw after it, and when they lose I’ve seen how they react. I’ve seen guys when they find out they double-crossed the wrong people and the heat is on, and I know how they react. Desperate, wild, ready to blow apart any minute.
That’s the way Frank looked.
He sat down and pushed away the beer and ordered a straight rye. All the time he was waiting for it his big hands were twisting around like they had hold of something they hated and were trying to rip it to pieces.
“I talked to her,” he said softly. He drank his drink and his hands started working again. “She said she was alone. Said she got out of bed to answer the phone.” He looked straight at me and his face began to twist as if something was hurting him inside. “She lied, Johnny. You saw that guy go up to her apartment. You saw her when she pulled the shades down.” His voice went up a little. “You saw that, didn’t you Johnny?”
“Yeah, I saw it.”
He stood up and closed his hands once or twice before he said, “I got to go, Johnny.” I don’t think he saw me. His eyes were like marble. What he was thinking made them cold and glassy.
He went out the door and I waited about twenty seconds then followed him out to the street. It was dark by this time but I could see him walking fast toward her place. He only had a block and a half to go.
My car was on the other side of the street and I started for it but right then something made me change my mind. Everything was set to blow wide open, just like we’d planned, and I should have gotten the hell out of the way.
But I didn’t. Don’t ask me why. It was crazy and dangerous but I started after him, using the other side of the street.
I had to be there and know for sure it would work.
There weren’t many people on the streets. I passed a young couple but they were too busy with each other to notice me. The street was pretty dark but I could see him whenever he passed a street light. His shoulders were hunched up and he was hurrying.
I stopped across the street from her building. The lights were on in her apartment and the shades were still drawn. I saw Frank go up to the entrance and fumble in his pocket for the keys. He opened the door in the vestibule and I saw his thick back disappear up the stairs.
My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. This was the last step. Everything else had worked perfectly and now this last thing had to work out my way.
I was pulled up tight inside. My stomach, my muscles, my nerves all seemed to be straining, and I knew that every part of me was waiting for the sound of a shot.
When that shot sounded I was going back to my car and get back to the blonde in my room.
A minute or two passed. Maybe it was more. Time gets confused when you’re waiting for something to explode and there’s no clock in the world that can measure it.
Then I saw Frank again. I saw his legs coming down the inner stairs, then the light in the hall shining on his red head. He came down the walk, his big shoulders hunched queerly, and he seemed to be staring at the ground. He turned right and went up the street, walking stiff-legged.
I stayed where I was for a minute, then went across to the street door of the building and stopped inside the small, tile-floored vestibule. There wasn’t a sound anywhere. All I could hear was my heart. This wasn’t part of my plan. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I was supposed to be with my blonde. But Alice and Lesser were upstairs and there hadn’t been any shot. I was going to blow wide open unless I knew what had happened up there.
I rang her bell twice but there was no answer. I rang it again, holding my finger against the button. From above I could hear the bell ringing faintly, but there was no answering buzz at the door. I kept pushing the button while the sweat gathered under my arms and ran down my sides.
I made up my mind fast. I jabbed the first floor button, and when the buzzer sounded, I jerked the door open and went up the steps three at a time.
I was part way up the second flight when a door opened in the hall below. I froze.
A woman’s voice said, “Who is it?” There was a minute of silence and then she said angrily. “Must be them kids,” and then I heard the door slam.
I waited a few seconds more, then went on up the steps. The door of her apartment was open, the light shining through onto the landing.
I went inside and walked into the living room. Lesser was flat on the floor, groaning a little, and there was blood on his lips and a blue bruise under his right eye.
Alice was sitting on the floor, her back propped against the sofa. She was out cold. There was a red mark along her jaw, the kind of a mark that follows a slap in the face.
One of her slippers had fallen off and the house coat had opened up the middle and her right leg was doubled back under her. The other was stretched out straight. Her hair was hanging over her forehead and when he’d hit her the lipstick had smeared over her chin. She looked like hell.
He was just as bad. He was a little guy, with fancy clothes, and his lips were broken and puffy and the mouse under his eye would be king-sized in an hour or so.
I looked around. His coat was hanging over the back of a chair and there were a couple of drinks on the coffee table.
There wasn’t any mystery about what had happened. Frank had walked in on them, just as Alice and I had planned. But instead of going for the gun, he’d taken a swing at both of them and walked out.
The thing we’d planned had gone to pieces and all the worry and fear and hope was for nothing.
And right then it hit me. All at once I had it. I didn’t have to think about it, or figure out details.
I went over and closed the front door very quietly; then I went into the bedroom and started rummaging through the drawers. I scattered his shirts and socks around and dug through her stuff but I didn’t find what I wanted.
I went on looking anyway, starting to sweat by this time. This had to be done right away or it couldn’t be done at all. I went through the closet and a little desk next to the dresser before I tried the small table next to the bed. I pulled out the drawer and there was the gun, shining and compact.
It was of German make. Alice had mentioned it, saying he had brought it back as a souvenir. I checked the clip and saw that it was loaded. I slipped off the safety and went back into the front room.
The clock on the mantel said eight-twenty-nine. Frank hadn’t been gone more than two minutes. That was close enough to fix him.
Lesser was moaning a little now and starting to roll his head back and forth. Alice was still out, the smeared lipstick like blood against the whiteness of her skin.
There wasn’t any time to think about what I was going to do. Maybe that was a good thing.
I raised the gun, pointed it at Lesser’s head and pulled the trigger twice. The gun made a lot of noise in the room. He started kicking when the bullet hit him, but that didn’t last long.
I took a handkerchief from my breast pocket and wiped the gun carefully. Then I tossed it on the floor and went quickly toward the back door.
There was a little porch outside the kitchen door with stairs leading to the back yard. I went down them as fast as I could. I wasn’t feeling anything right then. I just wanted to get away.
The yard was dark and I had to go slow in finding my way to the alley, but when I got there I ran the whole length of the block and came out on a cross street not far from where I’d parked the car.