“I don’t want it.”
“Half for us, half for Sy.”
“Not any part of it! I wouldn’t touch it!”
“It’ll take us to Mexico.”
“The hell with you and Mexico!”
“I don’t understand you,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “You said you wanted to go to Mexico.”
“And you said this was the last time,” she shouted, whirling from the window. “The last one, you said, that’s what you said. A bank. A simple bank. Just to set us up in—”
“All right!” Eddie said triumphantly. All right, it is the last one. Now how about that? Five hundred thousand dollars! An express train right to Acapulco!”
“On a kidnaping! Couldn’t you think of a filthier, more rotten…”
“A kidnaping, so what? Did we hurt the kid? Did we touch him? He’s fine, ain’t he?”
Remembering the boy, Kathy turned toward the bedroom door. “What’s Sy doing to him in there?” she said, and she began walking toward the door instantly.
Eddie caught her arm. “He’s all right. Sy promised him a real gun. That’s how we got him here. Look, honey, try to understand this, will you?”
“I don’t want to understand anything about it. Damnit, don’t you draw the line anyplace? What gave you this crazy idea to begin with? What the hell possibly gave you… ?”
“I just got it, that’s all. We worked it out.”
“Who worked it out? You?” She paused. “Or Sy?”
“We worked it out together.” He studied her face for a moment and then said, “Well, look, what’s the sense risking our necks on a stickup, huh? This is safer, ain’t it? We borrow a kid, and when we return him we get five hundred grand. Now ain’t that safer?”
“Borrow? Who said that? Sy?”
“No, no, for Pete’s sake, I told you we worked this out together.”
“Did you, Eddie?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“You’re lying, Eddie. It was Sy’s idea, wasn’t it?”
“Well…”
“Wasn’t it?”
“Well, it was.” Then hastily, he said, “But it’s a good idea, Kathy, can’t you see that? We can really quit after this one, I mean it, honey. Now look, honey, I mean it—this is the last one. Look, I can… I can maybe really get to be something in Mexico. Hey now, wouldn’t that be great, huh? Eddie Folsom, huh? Me. Something, you know?”
“Eddie, Eddie,” she said, “don’t you even realize what you’ve done?”
“Honey, look, believe me, this is gonna be all right. I promise you, Kathy. Now, have I ever let you down, huh? Just stick with me, honey, willya? Please?”
She did not answer.
“Honey?”
She still did not answer.
“Aw, honey, please try to…”
“Bang!” Jeff shouted, and he ran into the room carrying a shotgun, Sy grinning behind him. “Wow, what a gun!”
“The kid likes guns,” Sy said, laughing. “Play with the gun, kid. Get to know it.”
“Sy, is that loaded?” Kathy said, alarmed.
“Now would I give a loaded gun to a mere child?” Sy asked. He clucked his tongue in imitation of an old lady.
“It sure is loaded, lady,” Jeff said. He aimed the gun and yelled, “Bang! Right between the eyes!”
“Okay, kid, knock it off,” Sy said. “Slow down a little.” He frowned momentarily and then said, “How about tuning in the monster, Eddie?”
Eddie looked at Kathy helplessly, as if begging her with his eyes to understand. But she would not understand, and he read that on her face, and despondently he said, “Sure, Sy,” and walked to the far wall of the parlor and immediately pulled a tarpaulin covering from a mass of radio equipment which was stacked against the wall.
“Kid,” Sy said to Jeff, “this is Dr. Frankenstein. Watch him bring that monster to life.”
The equipment did not, in truth, resemble a monster. There was, however, some validity to Sy’s illusion, in that the dials and switches, the needles and knobs would not have seemed inappropriate in a scientist’s laboratory. Eddie walked to the setup and threw a switch.
“Go ahead, show off for the kid,” Sy said. “Tell him what frequency the police calls are on.”
Absorbed with tuning the receiver, Eddie replied, “Thirty-seven point fourteen megacycles.”
“Oh, the brain on that doctor,” Sy said. “Kathy, you hooked yourself a prize, a real prize.”
“Why’d you drag my husband into this?” Kathy said tightly. “Why didn’t you leave him alone?”
“Drag? Who, me? He come in willingly, sweetheart.” A high piercing shriek erupted from the receiver. “There she goes, kid,” Sy said. “The monster’s beginnin’ to speak.”
“Hey, that’s really something,” Jeff said. “Where’d you get it?”
“I built it,” Eddie answered.
“No kidding? Boy, that musta been hard.”
“Well, it…” Struggling with his pleasure, reluctant to sound too proud, Eddie said, “It wasn’t too hard.”
“Nothing’s hard for a mastermind, huh, Kathy?” Sy said. “You’re a real electronic wizard, ain’t you, Eddie? That’s why the little woman loves you. Learned it all in reform school, too, didn’t you?”
“Cut it out,” Kathy said.
“What’s the matter? I’m complimenting your husband. Someday, kid, Eddie’s gonna go to a real school, be a regular schoolboy and learn radio inside out and backwards. Ain’t that right, Eddie. Tell the kid here.”
Embarrassed, Eddie said, “Yeah, that’s right.”
“Thomas Alva Frankenstein, that’s who he is, sonny. You want to learn how to build a set like that and have all the dames fall for you, kid?”
“I’ll say I do!” Jeff said.
“Okay, then here’s how. When you’re fifteen years old, hold up a grocery store.”
“Sy, what are you telling him?” Kathy snapped.
“What’s the matter?” Sy asked innocently. “You don’t even need a gun, kid. Just stick your hand in your pocket like Eddie did. When they catch you, they’ll send you over to Youth House, and then to Children’s Court, and then to reform school. Am I right, Eddie?”
More embarrassed now, twisting the radio dial intently, Eddie said, “Yeah, that’s right. Sure.”
“In reform school,” Sy concluded, “they’ll teach you how to make radios. Am I right, Eddie?”
“Only how to fix them.”
“I don’t see anything funny about this, Sy,” Kathy said.
“Who’s being funny? I’m teaching the kid a trade. Shall I tell him all the other things you learned in reform school, Eddie? The other trades?”
“Aw, tell him whatever the hell you want to.”