"All right," said Toddy. "Say that I walk out of here and you use the phone. I know every big-time con man in the country, and con men stick together. I'd make bond eventually. I'd be around to see you. You wouldn't enjoy that, Shake. I tell you from the bottom of my heart you wouldn't."
He stared at them a moment longer, white teeth bared, eyes gray and cold. Then he broke the tension with an easy, good-natured laugh.
"Now why don't we stop the clowning?" he said. "You boys know I'm all right. I know you're all right. We're all a little upset, but we're all big men. We can forgive and forget… and do business together."
Donald's narrow shoulders straightened unconsciously. Shake emitted a ponderous wheeze. "Now that's good sense," he declared. "Mighty good. Uh-what kind of business did you have in mind, Toddy?"
"Elaine was murdered for a watch. There was just one guy who knew I had it, the man that killed her. He's got rid of the watch by now. He'll also have an airtight alibi. So I'm stuck. All I can do is skip town…"
"This watch… did it belong to this guy in the first place?"
"No," Toddy lied. "It belonged to an old lady. I fast-talked her out of it… God, Shake, I wish you and Donald could have seen the pile of stuff that woman had. Brooches, rings, necklaces. A good fourteen-fifteen grand worth or I don't know lead from platinum!"
"An' you just clipped her for the watch?"
"A two-thousand-dollar watch. I couldn't bite her any harder without raising a chatter. And, of course, I didn't dare go back for another try."
"Sure, uh-huh." Shake bobbed his jowls understandingly. "How come you hadn't turned the watch, Toddy?"
"Too hot. Milt wouldn't have touched it. I'd just about decided to take the stones out and cut it up for scrap, but I hadn't got around to it yet. I'd only had it three days."
"Mmm," said Shake. "Uh-hah!" he said briskly. "All right, Toddy, it's a deal. You just give us this old lady's address an' we'll see that you get your cut."
Toddy smiled at him.
"Now what's wrong with that?" Shake demanded. "We'll cut him in for a full half, won't we, Donald?"
"Well, it's been nice," said Toddy, rising. "I'll drop you a card from Mexico City."
"Now, wait a minute…!"
"I'll wait five minutes," said Toddy. "If I don't have two hundred bucks by that time, I'm on my way."
"Two hundred!"
"Two hundred-for almost a hundred times two hundred." Toddy's eyes flickered. "I won't say it'll be a cinch. She's about the crankiest, orneriest old bitch I ever tangled with. She lives all alone, see; doesn't have anyone she can pop off to. And she's got this game leg. I guess that makes her crankier than she would be ordinarily."
Shake licked his lips. "Game leg? An' she lives all alone?"
"Well," Toddy said conscientiously, "she does have three or four big Persian cats. I don't know whether they'd give you any trouble or not."
"I could handle 'em," said Donald grimly. "I could handle the dame. I ain't seen no dame or cats yet that I'm afraid of."
Toddy gave him an admiring look. Shake still hesitated.
"How do I know you ain't lying to us?"
"Because you've got brains," said Toddy. "Elaine was murdered. Murders aren't done for peanuts. It all adds up. Donald sees it. You're as smart as Donald, aren't you?"
"Yeah, but-but-" The words Shake searched for would not come to him. "But two hundred!"
"Two hundred as of the present moment," said Toddy, glancing at his watch. "I just thought of another party I can go to who'll give me-"
"Two hundred!" Shake scrambled hastily from his chair. "It's a deal for two hundred!"
Toddy sat in a quiet booth in the bar, sipping a Scotch and soda while he studied the classified ads in the evening paper. He was not content with what he had done. No revenge could be adequate for the brutal and hideous death Elaine had suffered. He had, however, done all he could. For the time being, at least, it would have to do. He had felt for a long time that Shake and Donald needed a lesson. Their threats tonight had done nothing to ameliorate that impression. Now they would get that lesson, one they might not live to profit by, and Elaine's murderer, the chinless man-the "old lady" they expected to rob-would get one. There'd be enough ruckus raised, perhaps, to bring in the cops. It was too bad that Chinless wouldn't know he'd been paid off, that Toddy had got back at him. But nothing was ever perfect. He'd settled two urgent accounts. He'd got a nice piece of scat money. He'd done all that he could, and no man can do more.
He took out his billfold and, under cover of the newspaper, inventoried its contents. Three-three hundred and twenty-seven dollars all together. Not very good. Not when you had to buy some kind of car out of it; and he would have to buy one. He had no way of knowing when Elaine's body would be discovered. He did know that the bus, plane and railway terminals would be watched as soon as it was. They might be looking for him already. He couldn't take any chances.
He slid out of the booth, sauntered past the bar stools and out to the walk.
It was quite dark now, and the dark and the smog condensed the glare of neon signs to a blinding intensity. Still he saw. He had to see and he did, although nothing in his manner indicated the fact.
He strolled straight to the curb, his attention seemingly fixed on the large wire trash basket which stood there. He dropped the newspaper into it and stared absently at the large black convertible. It was no more than ten feet away, parked in the street with the motor idling. The back seat was empty. The girl was at the wheel. The talking dog sat hunkered at her side, his front paws on the door.
With an effort Toddy suppressed a shudder.
He saw now that he hadn't really taken a good look at the dog that afternoon. The damned thing wasn't as big as he'd thought. It was bigger. And his imagination hadn't been playing tricks on him; it did talk.
The girl beckoned to Toddy. "Come," she called softly. The dog's jaws waggled. They yawned open. "C'm," he said. "C'm, c'm, c'm…"
Toddy looked over them and through them. He turned casually and stood staring into the bar. No way out there. The place had a kitchen, a busy one, and the rear exit lay beyond it. Up the street? Down? Pawnshops. A dime store. A butcher shop. All closed now.
He heard the softly spoken command in Spanish. He heard the scratch of the dog's claws as it leaped.
9
In one swift motion Toddy stooped, grabbed the base of the basket, and lofted it behind him. Either his luck or his aim was good. There was a surprised yelp, the rattling scrape of wire. But Toddy heard it from a distance. He rounded the corner and raced down the gloomy side street.
It was not good, this way, but no way was good. He was entering a semi-slum section, the area of flyblown beaneries, boarded-up buildings, flophouses and wine bars which lies adjacent to the Union Station. No cab would stop for him here.
So now he ran. Now for the first time he knew the real terror of running-to run without a goal, to be hunted by the upper world and his own; to run hopelessly, endlessly, because there was nothing to do but run.