Then they heard Brown call from the bottom of the stairs.
“Chuck’s up! Come and get it!”
“We had better go,” Perry said. “We must not antagonize him.”
She sneered. “You go, spineless. I wouldn’t eat anything that ape has touched. You go and keep your loony pal company.” She turned and went to the window, looking out at the growing darkness.
Perry hesitated, then shrugged. He knew it was essential to keep Brown on an even keel. Maybe there would be only a few hours before he left. He walked down the stairs into the living room.
Brown, whistling tunelessly, was setting the table for three.
“Not my wife, Jim,” Perry said. “Excuse her. This has been a shock to her. She’s gone to bed.”
“Sure, I’ve always said the best place for a woman is in a bed.” Brown grinned. “So okay, all the more for us, huh?”
Perry sat at the table. At all costs, he thought, he must keep this man on an even keel. He had no appetite, but he must force himself to eat.
Brown returned with a steaming platter of rice in a curried sauce and big king-sized prawns laid on top.
“Looks good, huh?” he said, and helped himself generously, then pushed the platter towards Perry.
“I never told you, did I?” He began to eat savagely. “One time, I was a short-order cook in a greasy spoon. I was a kid then. There was this black chef. He was gay, and he took a liking to me. When I first got there, I washed dishes, then he tried the old razzmatazz. So what did I have to lose? We had a few nights together. It paid off.”
Brown munched while he stared in space. “My old man was always saying crappy things, but one thing did stick in my mind. He was always saying, ‘What you put in, you take out.’” Brown gave a barking laugh. “He wasn’t talking about gays. He meant something different.” Brown laughed again. “Well, it paid off. This fag taught me how to cook. Pretty good, huh?”
Toying with the food, Perry said, “Couldn’t be better.”
“Yeah.” Brown had finished his portion of prawns. “You ain’t eating.”
“I’m fine.” Perry made an effort and swallowed some rice.
Brown stared at him.
“You worried about something?”
“I wish to God my wife hadn’t come!” Perry said quietly. “She’s a complication, but I promise you, Jim, she won’t be a nuisance.”
Brown helped himself from the platter. “Right. I thought you might be worried about that opossum up in that tree.”
Perry felt a cold chill run through him. Had Brown seen through his lie? He forked a prawn and began to eat it.
“Opossum? Oh, that? Why should I worry about a tree animal? No, I’m worried about my wife.”
“Yeah, that’s natural.” Brown was silent, eating steadily. When he finished, he eyed the prawns and rice. “You want that, Perry?”
“No, thanks. I’ve had all I want.”
“Another of my old man’s crappy sayings was never waste a thing.” Brown shoved the remaining food onto his plate. “I bet you were never hungry. I know what real hunger is. There was a time when I hadn’t a nickel. I used to walk the streets and pick through the trash bins, that’s how hungry I was. I used to walk along the streets where the restaurants were and peer through the windows, watching rich fat slobs stuffing their guts. I remember watching a slob who ate enough to last me a week. He had the lot: soup, fish, a big steak, two shots of apple pie. I remember him well. I can see him now. I watched him take out a wallet stuffed with money. That was my first mugging. I hit him. It was a pleasure. From then on, Perry, I never starved.”
“You’ve had a rough life, Jim,” Perry said quietly, pushing aside his plate.
Brown finished his meal.
“Not any more. With ten thousand dollars, I’m going to have a ball.” He looked up and grinned at Perry. “You finished?”
“Yes, thanks. It was very good.”
“I’ll clear the dishes. I like leaving things ship shape. That’s another of my old man’s crappy sayings. Ship shape, huh?” Brown gave his barking laugh. He gathered up the dishes and went into the kitchen.
Perry stood up, lit a cigarette and went to the window. He parted the curtains and looked out — it was dark. All he could see was his own reflection in the window glass. Replacing the curtains, he walked to a lounging chair and sat down.
How much longer? he thought, listening to Brown’s tuneless whistling and to the clatter of dishes as he washed up. So far, he seemed to be keeping this man on an even keel, but the strain was beginning to tell on him. His hands were clammy, and his heart was beating unnaturally fast. Then the sound of the telephone bell startled him.
Brown appeared in the doorway, his hand on his gun. “Answer it, Perry,” he said. “Careful. No tricks.”
Perry got to his feet and lifted the receiver.
“Yes?”
“That you, Boy?” He recognized the voice of Silas S. Hart.
“Hello there, Mr Hart.”
“How’s it coming, Boy? You settled in nice? I guess you have had some tough weather your way.”
“Yes, but it’s cleared now.”
“Good. Got an idea yet?”
“I’m working on something. Early days.”
“Sure. I’m not pressing you. You’ll come up with something good. I’m relying on you. Done any fishing?”
“Not yet.”
There was a pause, then Hart went on, “Had a call from Franklin. He wanted this contract fixed.”
“There’s time. It’s okay, Mr Hart, don’t worry about the contract. I’ll sign it, but I don’t want Franklin around for the moment.”
“Sure.” Again a pause. “Your wife’s joined you.” It wasn’t a question, it was a flat statement.
“Yes.”
“That wise?”
Perry felt a surge of irritation. “That’s my affair, isn’t it, Mr Hart?”
“I sure hope it is, Boy,” Hart said, his voice cold. “Well, okay. Let me know what you’ve come up with. So long,” and he hung up.
Perry replaced the receiver.
Brown, still in the doorway, was watching him.
“Your boss?”
“Yes.”
“You know something? I wouldn’t work for anyone, now. It’s a sucker’s game.”
“Most people have to work for someone, Jim.”
“Oh, sure. Suckers! Know something? If I worked for a jerk, and he told me what to do, I’d ram his teeth down his throat.”
“Then the jerk would be lucky not to employ you, wouldn’t he?”
Brown grinned.
“You sure said something. Okay, in an hour or so, I’ll be taking off. I reckon I’ve got a good chance. Once I get to Jacksonville, I’ll get lost. No cop is going to catch me,” and he patted the gun in the holster. “With all that money, I’ll leave them standing.”
“For your sake, I hope so.”
Brown regarded Perry. “Yeah. Okay, go up and join your wife. I’m going to lock you in. When I’m ready, I’ll let you know. Come on! I’ve got things to do.”
As Perry walked from the living room and up the stairs, he hoped if he showed no resistance, if he didn’t antagonize this man, he would go without harming either Sheila or him. Brown followed him.
As Perry walked into the bedroom where Sheila was lying on the bed, her chin in her hands, staring down at the floor, Brown slammed the door, and Perry heard the key turn in the lock.
Chapter 12