.
Then she began casting about for a personal article that anyone finding might associate with her, and eventually the idea came of attaching the watch. Fortunately, it had an expansion-type bracelet. Barely moving her fingers, she slipped the watch from her wrist, her heart pounding so hard she feared it would give her away. She wet her lips, then realized that even such a small act might tip off Dan. He had an instinct for reading her thoughts.
Slowly she moved the watch across her lap, inch by slow inch, until she had it near the neck of the dozing cat. And then she hesitated. He might resent having the watch put about him; he might arouse suddenly and resist or meow, and attract the attention of the two men. If he jumped down from her lap in protest, they would see the watch.
She decided on a quick move, one of desperation. She slipped the bracelet around the cat’s neck and rose almost the same instant, holding the cat firmly. She walked swiftly to the back door, which was verboten to her, a door she must never touch under threat of death. The cat struggled violently in her grasp, about to break free, and behind her Sammy shouted her name low and sharp and threateningly, and she heard Dan’s chair being pushed out. She reached the door as Sammy grabbed her, but before he could restrain her she opened it and tossed the cat out.
She turned swiftly to face him. “He had to go out,” she said.
He struck her across the face. “I’ve told you, Jenkins, you get a shot in your guts if you ever touch a door.”
Dan pulled him back. “He had to go out,” she repeated. He held her a second before releasing her. “Okay,” he said, “Get to bed.”
She went through the bedroom, and once inside the bathroom locked the door behind her. This was the only privacy she had. The bathroom had no window and was so small she could scarcely change her clothes. The building was ancient, and this apartment little more than a rabbit hutch, with only the kitchen, living room, the one bedroom, and this inside bath. They had nailed down every window in the place, which left only the kitchen and front-room doors as possible escape avenues.
As she scrubbed her face, she heard Sammy it was always Sammy, since they had their duties divided between them winding the alarm clock, which he would set for seven. She had to be up at seven, and dressed by seven-thirty. Sammy then raised the shades, since someone might think it odd if they were always pulled. She was not allowed in the bedroom during the day,
She remembered the first night when she had sat up until dawn, afraid to go to sleep, afraid they would molest her. They had never touched her though, and the realization grew that she was too old to interest them. But still, as the days went by, she feared the age difference might grow less.
At midnight Dan rose from the straight chair in the bedroom doorway and stretched. “Okay, she’s all yours.”
Sammy glanced up in exasperation from the table where he was playing solitaire. He looked back at the cards, and with an angry scoop swept them to the floor. He kicked them as he moved to take up his post. “Let her pick ‘em up,” he said. “Do her good. She needs to squat some.”
Sammy looked in on her. The night light was on, and the air conditioner in the nearby window was blowing gently. They kept the conditioner on all night, the same as the radio in the daytime, so that if she did cry out suddenly, the cry would be muffled.
He took a long look. She was lying on her left side, half curled up. “I’m getting darn tired of her,” he said.
“So who brought her? I kept telling you to dump her out.”
“Sure, didn’t matter if the cops was about to plug us, I was to stop the car, run around and open the door, and help her out.”
“You panicked, Sammy. You plain lost your big, fat head.”
Sammy swung about, fists clenched. “Don’t try eatin’ me out. Don’t try it,” He turned away. “I’ve got the shakes tonight. Wish I had a drink.”
They had agreed at the start that neither would take anything stronger than a beer. “More guys’ve been caught that way,” Dan had said. “One drink too many and we all talk.”
And now Sammy flared up again. “And while you’ve got the sledge hammer out, who grabbed her in the first place? We could’ve shot our way out easy enough.”
It was in the open now, what they had been thinking for seven days, this one major error they had committed. Someone had set off the alarm in the bank, and outside people stopped, and a few drifted over to look in. Dan saw quickly that, as they left, a man or even a boy in the gathering crowd might jump them, since there was always one crazy fool about. To thwart such a move, Dan seized the woman and forced her at gun point ahead of them to their car. That move was brilliant, Dan thought, but then he had shouted repeatedly and angrily at Sammy to slow up so he could push her out. Grudgingly, Dan would admit only to himself that it had never occurred to him that no matter how fast Sammy was driving he could have opened the door and shoved her out. So what if she had been killed in the fall?
Now Dan said softly, “Okay, we both got the shakes. So let’s take it easy, huh? We’re stuck with her, and that’s that.”
“Not me. I’d take care of her. Right now.” He looked down at his hands, palms up, the fingers wide apart and curling slightly. “She’d never know what happened. She’d just go away in her sleep. You’ve got to know where to put the thumbs.”
Dan stared in disgust. “What about the body?”
“I got a bin spotted in an alley back of Ventura Boulevard . You know, one of those big bins the stores toss their empty cartons in.”
“So we heat up the neighborhood with cops all over the place if we don’t get caught first dumping her.” He paced about. “I’m not about to gamble two hundred grand and our necks on a long shot like that.”
Sammy took out a pack of cigarettes, offered Dan one. “Got a light?” Dan produced a match, and Sammy continued, “Look, we’ve got to do it sometime. We can’t stay here forever.” He grinned. “Maybe you’re thinking of adopting her, huh? Maybe you’re just crazy for a mother.”
Dan took his time lighting the cigarette. “It’s not easy getting rid of a body. But I’ll come up with something. Give me time, Sammy, a little time.”
5
Patti eased the Volkswagen into a space at the farthermost point from Bullock’s entrance on the second level. She watched the rearview mirror, and eventually saw him approach. He was a tall man, and in need, she thought, of some home-cooked dinners. He was younger than the maturity in his voice had led her to believe. She liked his walk, which had an easy roll and none of the exaggerated confidence affected by so many young men in business.
He came alongside her slowly, looking her over, too, and enjoying what he saw a girl with an early-morning, dew-on-the-daisies look, and yet reflecting smartness and a touch of sophistication, qualities he liked in a woman when combined with naturalness.
“Miss Randall?” he asked tentatively, and she nodded.
“I’m Zeke Kelso.” He showed her his credentials.
She barely glanced at the card, “Won’t you get in?”
She was conscious of the middle-aged woman who had parked nearby and whose body was now heading for the entrance although the head was screwed around in the opposite direction so she could stare at them, and conjecture. A girl drives up and parks, a man does the same, and the man gets in the girl’s car. An early-morning rendezvous. The head swiveled back into position only when the body collided with that of another shopper.
Zeke was saying, “Thanks for calling us right away.” He offered her a cigarette, which she refused. “I’ve got to ask you questions, a lot of them. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
He was looking her over rather thoroughly, and she said, “I’ve always thought what a break a man got being an FBI agent. He can case a girl from head to foot on the grounds he is trying to evaluate her.”