“Oh, come on!”
The boy nodded his head vigorously, grinning. “Sure, that’s us. Smith and Jones. Jones and Smith,” He laughed.
“Now don’t get smart,” said Cummins heavily. “What were you doing on this property?”
“Sight-seeing.”
“I’m losing my patience,” said Cummins.
“Well, for Chris-sake, what do you want, a big fancy story? We turned in off the road to sleep last night, that’s all. Say what are you, a cop or somethin’, Mister?”
“No, I’m not a cop, I’d just like to know.”
“Hey, he’s just nosy,” said the other boy.
The spindly one cackled. “Sure, nosy. So this is what happened, nosy. We couldn’t stay dry account of the rain, so in the morning we walked in a ways looking for a better spot. We found one and settled down and all of a sudden there was this wall of water, looked about ten foot high coming down on us. Joe and me, we got to that little hill. The other guy didn’t make it.”
The silence stretched while Cummins absorbed the words. “What other guy?” he asked slowly, at last.
“The other guy, the other guy. Herb, the other buddy. The water caught him.”
“There were three of you? You’re telling me that there were three of you?”
The boy appealed to Tuttle. “Hey, has this lad got all his marbles? Ain’t I just finished tellin’ him there was another guy?”
Suddenly Cummins struck the boy a back-handed blow across the cheek that sent him sprawling. “Enough of your sass. Talk straight, now. What happened to the third boy?”
The boy who called himself Smith lay on the floor as he had fallen, his eyes growing flatter and more heavy-lidded. He did not appear otherwise angered or surprised at the blow; he appeared used to blows. He said softly, “I guess Herb got drowned. That straight enough for you? Anything else you want to know?”
This was too much, Cummins thought. After all he’d been through, to end up with a drowning on his hands was too much. “Let’s take a look around,” he said to Tuttle dully. “You boys wait. We’ll be back.”
The men walked the ridge carefully, not speaking, watching the water and the ragged water line along the ridge. After a while they came upon it, as Cummins had known they would. It was a soaked blob of denims, and when Cummins turned it over with his foot, there was the young drowned face.
“Pity,” said Tuttle.
“Yes, a pity,” said Cummins bitterly, not meaning it the same way.
After a silence, Tuttle said, “I guess this blows your million all right.”
Cummins was thinking hard. “I don’t think I’m through yet, Sam.” His mouth worked. “Suppose nobody finds out about this drowning?”
The two men stared at each other, each working out this line of thought in their own way.
“We bury the body in the muck,” Cummins went on. “It’ll never turn up. The kid was a nobody, like the other two. The chances are there’ll never be any inquiry made after the little bum. There isn’t anybody gives a damn about kids like these or knows where they are. So another drifter disappears.”
“You want me to keep quiet?”
“That’s right.”
“For a price?”
“That’s right. You got a price, Sam.”
Tuttle nodded. “Certainly I have. You know me that well, Sheldon. How much?”
“Seventy thousand.”
Tuttle whistled. “Just for keeping my mouth shut. Well, well. It’s tempting, but risky. What about the other two boys?”
“I admit that’s a weak point. I was thinking we could give them some money and a couple of tickets out of the state.”
Tuttle shook his head slowly. “Not good. They can talk wherever they are. Sooner or later those boys are going to run foul of the police. How do you know what they’ll say then? No, Sheldon, the story’s too apt to come out.”
Cummins looked at him broodingly.
“Count me out,” Tuttle said regretfully. “It’s a nice piece of change, but I don’t want to be accused of hiding a body. Besides, if the story came out it would really queer your little deal, wouldn’t it?”
“I agree with you, Sam,” Cummins said in a strained voice. “It won’t do. But there’s another way to make sure the boys won’t talk.”
Tuttle grinned. “Oh, sure, we can...” But then he saw Cummins’ eyes and the grin died.
“Yes,” said Cummins, “there’s another way.”
“Now don’t be fantastic, Sheldon.”
“Fantastic! I tell you, Sam, this means a million dollars to me. One million dollars! For that price I’ll do it.”
“Forget it, will you. You don’t think for one moment I’d go along?”
“You’ve got a price for this too, Sam.”
“Not for this.”
“Less than an hour’s work, Sam. Two lousy little bums. They’re no use to themselves or anybody else anyway. We’d be doing society a favor. We could plant the three of them so deep in the muck they might as well have vanished into thin air. Nobody’s going to bother wondering about them. Hell, they’d be dead right now if I hadn’t rescued them. So I made a mistake. I’ll just correct that mistake.”
“I wish you’d stop talking this way.”
“What’s the price, Sam? Two hundred thousand?”
“I admit I’ve pulled some shady stunts in my time,” said Tuttle, “but I stop short at murder, at any price. Now cut it out, Sheldon You’re not a murderer and you know it.”
“You’re absolutely right,” replied Cummins. “I have no desire to murder anybody. It makes me sick to think about it. But I’m telling you again, Sam, for this much money I’ll kill. How about three hundred thousand?”
“Look, Sheldon, why don’t you simmer down? Forget it, and I’ll see what I can do about squashing the story.”
Cummins shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do or you would have mentioned it before. A kid drowned in a flood in a big real estate development? That story won’t squash once it gets out. I’m convinced this is the only way. Don’t try holding me up, Sam, I’m warning you. I’ll go four hundred thousand and that’s my limit. Are you going to accept it?”
“No.”
“All right, Sam,” said Cummins softly. “I gave you your chance.” He raised his powerful hands and placed them on Tuttle’s throat. Tuttle tried to jerk back, but the hands tightened. “You’re crazy, Sheldon,” Tuttle yelled and swung his fist against Cummins’ head, but the blow seemed to make no impression.
Cummins began to squeeze, ignoring the man’s struggles, and slowly Tuttle sank to his knees and his back arched, so that Cummins had to bend over him while he squeezed. Cummins went to his own knees to ease the uncomfortable position. After a while he took his hands away and rose to his feet and Tuttle’s body collapsed on the ground.
It was the only solution, Cummins thought. It might be taking a chance, but he had chosen to go all out and he would have to accept the risk. He estimated that the odds were with him. Tuttle was a lone wolf, and since this job was on the shady side it was unlikely that he had discussed it with anyone. He had no car here; he had arrived by plane. It would simply be a case of a man disappearing, a man whose connection with himself would remain private. If ever questioned he would give the proper answers. It would occur to no one to search this property, and in any case, Tuttle’s body would never be found.
Next, the boys. Unfortunately, he had no weapon with him, but if necessary he would take care of them with his bare hands also. However, he seemed to remember something about the surveyors’ supplies. He knitted his brow, trying to visualize. Yes, he remembered. There was an axe.
He decided on his course of action. When he entered the shack he would walk casually to the storeroom and get the axe. They would be unsuspecting, so that he could kill at least one of them without a struggle. After that, the axe would make short work of the other, even if he tried to fight.