‘ “Very well,” he said. “Come to the California & Mutual Bank at three o’clock. Ask for Mr. Sanderson.” He paused, then went on, “Describe these stamps to me.”
‘Vin described the stamps.
‘ “There are eight of them?” Radnitz asked.
‘ “Yeah.” Vin found it hard to believe that this man seemed so unconcerned about paying this enormous sum without some quibble. He wondered if he dare try to up the price, but there was something about Radnitz that scared him. After all, he told himself, sweating with excitement, a million, goddamn it! was a million!
‘ “I must warn you that if you don’t produce the stamps and you are wasting my time,” Radnitz went on in his quiet guttural voice, “I will make you wish you had never been born.”
‘This threat shook Vin.
‘ “You give me the money and I’ll give you the stamps.”
‘ “Then at three o’clock this afternoon,” Radnitz said and made a gesture of dismissal.
‘Vin took the express elevator to the ground floor. What a mug Elliot was! he thought. All this fuss! This rich punk hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t even quibbled about paying for the stamps. He was so elated that he wanted to dance a jig. As the elevator doors swished open, he glanced at his watch. The time was 12.55. He had two hours to kill. What did a man do to kill time when he was worth a million dollars? Vin asked himself and he knew the answer: a man bought himself a drink and a fancy meal, and that’s what he was going to do. He took out his billfold and checked his money. He had twenty-five dollars: all the money he owned. He would blow the lot on a slap-up meal. Why should he worry? In two hours he would be worth a million!
‘Unaware that Larry, half-hidden behind an open newspaper, was watching him, Vin strode into the bar and called for a double whisky on the rocks. While waiting, he beckoned to a waiter and told him he wanted a table in the restaurant. The waiter said this could be arranged.
‘Larry had moved to the bar entrance and had overheard the conversation. He walked briskly across the lobby and out into the sunshine where Robo was waiting.
‘ “He’s going to stuff his gut,” Larry said. “We’ve lots of time. There’s a drug store down the road. Go, buy a roll of gauze bandage and hurry it up.”
‘Robo grinned and ran off.
‘After his drink, Vin swaggered into the restaurant and was conducted to a single table. The rich clients, shovelling food into their faces, looked at him and raised their eyebrows. This brash, shabbily dressed man wasn’t in their class, but Vin couldn’t care a goddamn. He sat down and surveyed the crowded restaurant with a sneering little grin. He was as good as any of these slobs, he told himself. In two hours’ time he would be worth a million dollars! In a month or so he would have his own house and his yacht. This would be the last time he ate alone. Every dollie within a five-mile radius would be fighting for his favours once the word got around how rich he was.
‘He was a little dashed that the menu was in French, but the suave Maître d’hôtel was at his elbow to help him. He finally let the Maître d’hôtel choose the meal of smoked eel and the breast of chicken in lobster sauce.
‘While he was eating, Robo came back from the drug store and joined Larry, waiting at the hotel car park.
‘Since these two had been in hospital and had been forced to wash themselves, their long hair and their beards, they now looked as respectable as any of the kids on vacation in the City and no one paid any attention to them as they converged on Vin’s Jaguar. With Robo shielding his movements Larry removed the cap on the gas tank, quickly unwound some of the bandage and inserted one end into the tank. He then paid out a long length of bandage which he concealed under the car. All this was a work of seconds. Striking a match, he set fire to the gauze which began to smoulder, running up the length of the bandage towards the gas tank.
‘They had about two minutes to get clear which was ample time. By the time they had reached some distant clump of palm trees, the Jaguar’s gas tank, along with a million dollars’ worth of stamps, went up with a bang, shattering some of the hotel’s windows.’
‘Well now, Mr. Campbell,’ Barney said, ‘that’s about the whole story.’ He looked at his empty glass and then at the wall clock opposite him. The hands pointed to 02.15. ‘It’s getting past my bed time.’
‘There are still some loose ends to tie up,’ I said. ‘How about one for the road? I’m having a whisky. How about you?’
Barney’s little red snapper of a mouth moved into a smile.
‘I’ve never said no to a drop of Scotch,’ he said and flapped with his enormous hand in Sam’s direction.
‘First, what happened to Judy Larrimore?’ I asked.
Barney’s fat face showed his disapproval.
‘You’ll find her at the Adam & Eve club any time you look in there. She’s just the same... looking for boys with money, maybe a little fatter, maybe a little less attractive, but still in the same old groove.’
Sam came over and took the order for whiskies.
‘And Vin?’
‘I don’t have to tell you that Vin flipped his lid when the doorman came into the restaurant asking if anyone owned a blue Jaguar with New York plates. The way Vin rushed out of the restaurant lowered all records for the hundred yards sprint. The sight that met his eyes turned him to stone. The car was a complete write-off and he realized his dream of a million dollars was now just a dream. He stood there, white faced, scarcely breathing, watched from a safe distance by Larry and Robo who were squirming with joy. Then a hand on his arm made him turn. Holtz, by his side, asked quietly, “The stamps were in the car?”
‘Vin nodded dumbly.
‘ “Then I am sorry for you,” Holtz said and returned to the hotel to report to Radnitz.
‘Later, the cops picked Vin up as he was trying to hitch a ride to Jacksonville. Without money, without even his few belongings, he was in trouble. The cops had received a tip-off and I don’t have to tell you from whom the tip had come. The Miami hotel dick picked Vin out at an identity parade and Vin went away for five years: robbery with violence.’
Sam came with the whiskies. With drunken dignity, Barney leaned forward, tapping his glass against mine.
‘Your health, Mr. Campbell,’ he said. ‘Your very good health.’
‘And Elliot?’ I was wondering if the whisky would prove too much for Barney and I wouldn’t hear the end of this story, but I needn’t have worried: Barney’s capacity seemed without limit.
‘Elliot?’ Barney lifted his heavy shoulders. ‘You didn’t read about it? When Joey told him and Cindy what he had done and why, and when Elliot realized there would be no more money coming to him, he gave a wry grin, shrugged and told Joey he had done the right thing.
‘Joey wasn’t interested in what Elliot thought. He was only concerned to see how Cindy reacted. She sat there, looking at Elliot, and the expression in her eyes made Joey feel bad, but he kept reminding himself that she was young, and in another year, maybe less, she would have forgotten Elliot.
‘Elliot said he would now go to Hollywood. There was still a chance that his agent would find work for him. Neither he, Cindy nor Joey believed this, but they went along with it. Elliot shook hands with Joey and wished him luck. He said he hadn’t ever enjoyed anyone’s company as much as his. This pleased Joey because Elliot said it as if he meant it. Then Elliot turned to Cindy.
‘ “I told you, Cindy,” he said, “we’re not for each other. Forget me...” He smiled at her. “So long.”
‘He left the bungalow without touching her and Cindy, in her despair, hid her face in her hands and sobbed her heart out.
‘Joey didn’t attempt to console her. He went to the window and watched Elliot get in the Alfa and drive away. He remembered what Cindy had told him. Elliot had said to her: You’re dead without money. As the Alfa disappeared around the corner, Joey said goodbye to Elliot forever.’