“Drink.”
“I’ll drink. Here’s to a good idea, if I say so myself, neatly handled — even if unfortunately delayed by a few years in quod. And here’s to an end to a lack of trust, too. Here’s to—”
“Drink!”
McNeil was beginning to come to his feet unsteadily. Tommy frowned in uncertainty and hurriedly drank. There had been precious little left in the bottle, was all he could say. He started to toss it away, empty, and then thought of the noise. Instead, he bent and placed it carefully on the porch.
“Good-o,” he said, straightening up. “Enough of celebration, eh, Billy? The coppers are thick as fleas tonight. Let’s split the stuff and be on our way, eh, mon?” His voice tried to remain calm but could not conceal his anxiety. “Where are the stones? Let’s see them.”
“I don’t have them.”
There was a moment’s silence. When the standing man spoke again, his voice was quiet but deadly. One hand had gone surreptitiously to his pocket.
“Don’t joke with me, Billy.”
“I’m not joking, mon.” The rum was hot in his blood, wild in his brain. For one moment he wondered if the disease also reduced one’s ability to drink, but put the thought aside in favor of the more delectable one: Tommy had just told him not to joke, and here he had just played the best joke of his life. On Tommy. He couldn’t help himself; he began to laugh. “I’m not joking, mon. My word!”
“You’re drunk, you sot! Where is the package?”
McNeil brayed with laughter. Drunk, was he? Well, that he was, and he’d be the last to argue.
“The package is where it always was and where it’ll stay until doomsday, mon. The truth!”
“I said, don’t joke with me, Billy.” Tommy stared down coldly. “D’you think I hadn’t figured you’d try to pull a trick like this? Mon, don’t be daft! But you’ll cough up my share, fair and square, don’t worry, because I took out a bit of insurance, you might say. Either you forgot the nonsense or you can kiss the girl good-bye.” Tommy stepped back a step, his hand tight in his pocket. “Only you’ll never see her to kiss her good-bye, hear? And this is a gun I’ve got here, Billy boy, so don’t be thinking of tricks.”
“Girl?” McNeil shook his head, the rum fumes fogging his brain. “What girl?”
“Your precious barmaid, that’s who!”
“Mon, what are you talking about?”
“You are drunk, you sot! I’m talking about your girlfriend, your Miss Diana Cogswell, ex-barmaid at the Badger Inn. That’s who I’m talking about. Now do you know what I’m talking about?”
“Diana? What about her?”
“Try to listen and try to understand, Billy boy. I said I’ve got your precious Miss Diana Cogswell stashed where you’ll never find her, and you’ll split those stones, or you’ll never—”
He would never have imagined that McNeil in his drunken state could ever have moved so quickly. One moment the big man was slumped on the top step of the porch, arms dangling almost idiotically, and the next he was up and on him long before he could begin to untangle the revolver in his pocket. A large hand clamped itself over the gun, squeezing viciously. Tommy screamed.
“Billy! You’re breaking my hand! Let go! Let go!”
“Ease your hand out, mon.” The drunkenness seemed to have disappeared as quickly and mysteriously as it had come. McNeil swung behind the smaller man, one thick arm locked about the scraggly neck, the other hand still squeezing the pocket with the pistol. “Ease your hand out without the gun or I’ll tear it off. My word!”
“I can’t with you squeezing my hand! You’re breaking it, Billy! Let go!”
“One trick and your neck snaps. Believe me.” McNeil eased the pressure slightly; the empty hand of the smaller man emerged from the pocket, crushed and bleeding, already beginning to swell. McNeil reached into the pocket, taking the gun, tucking it into the waistband of his swimming trunks. He swung the other man about, grasping him by the shoulders, shaking him like a toy doll. “All right, now, Tommy. Let’s talk. What were you saying about the girl?”
A bit of bravery — or it may have been desperation — hardened Tommy’s voice. He grasped the wrist above his wounded hand, pressing tightly, trying to abate the pain.
“I have her where you won’t find her. And pushing me around won’t help...”
“Now, won’t it though!” McNeil said viciously. “Let’s try!”
He took the small man and began to shake him, then shook him harder and harder again. Tommy’s neck snapped back and forth, his teeth chattered, smashing against each other. He tried to clamp his jaw; it did no good. His wounded hand bounced painfully, snapping with each shake. He tried to speak.
“Billy, for God’s sake!”
“Where’s the girl?”
“I’ll tell you! I’ll talk!” The shaking stopped abruptly; Tommy shook his head, his ears ringing, trying to clear his brain. Despite his pain and his fear a touch of malice came into his voice. “And I’ll tell you something else. She’s no barmaid. Anyone with half an eye could have seen that. She’s a copper, Billy — a lousy plant. Put there in the Badger just for you to fall for and spill the beans to.”
The big hands tightened on the smaller man’s shoulders, preparatory to resuming their punishment. Tommy spoke hurriedly.
“She’s in the barn. But she’s still a police plant, Billy. She is, you know.”
“You’re daft!” McNeil dismissed the statement without discussion. “If you harmed her in any way, I’ll kill you, you know. My word! If they hang me for it.”
“I didn’t touch her. She’s perfectly all right.” His head was feeling better, but his hand still pained him considerably. There was pleading in his voice. “Billy, won’t you listen? She’s a copper, mon! Use your skull — wouldn’t it be a perfect place to spot one? And a woman, at that? And you with fifteen years without a woman? Besides,” he added, suddenly remembering, “she knew about me, and I’m sure you never mentioned me to her.”
McNeil paid no attention to the statement; his grip on the other’s shoulders tightened again.
“Is that why you said the place is swarming with coppers tonight? Because she’s missing?” He flung the other from him in disgust; there was a grunt in the darkness as the smaller man slammed against the wall. McNeil glowered at him. “You bloody fool! And with them sure to be knowing I’m gone, you’ve put me in a fine bloody mess! They’ll think I had a hand in it!” He frowned. “Where did you pick her up?”
“At the foot of the hill before her place. Last night. She didn’t see me, not a glimpse of my face.” The note of pleading intensified. “Billy, for God’s sake, listen to me. She’s a copper, I tell you. Why else would they put it on the radio, and why else would the coppers be out like mosquitoes, eh?”
“She’s no copper.”
“I tell you she is! She—”
“Shut up. I’m thinking.” There were several minutes silence. “All right. You take her back to where you found her. Drop her off near her house. And I’ll know tomorrow if you hurt her. If you did, there’s no place on earth you’ll be able to hide.”
A horrible thought suddenly came to him: He had leprosy and like a fool had passed it on to Tommy! Now how could the other even free the girl without infecting her himself?
“And don’t touch her, do you hear? Let her get into the auto herself. Don’t put a finger on her, even to lend a hand. Do you hear?”
“But why?”
“Because I say so.”
“And when I come back?” Cupidity had returned to Tommy’s voice. “Do we split the stones then?”
McNeil looked at him and shook his head in disbelief.
“Mon, Tommy, but you’re a fool! I told you I don’t have the stones and don’t know how to get them. Are you hard of hearing? If I had the bloody things and wanted to cheat you, would I be coming here? Not even knowing you had the girl, or anything? Use your noodle!”