“Al, listen.” Benny leaned over to where Alverato sat, across the isle. “There’s something else about this deal that’s come up.” He glanced back at Pat, who was drowsing in her seat.
“I’ll handle everything just so, Benny. I got it all worked out.”
“You don’t get it, Al. There’s a new wrinkle in this. When you didn’t show up and I had to keep stalling her-”
“You made it, didn’t you?” Alverato was hardly listening. “Leave it to me, boy. Your worries are over. You take your ten grand and have yourself a ball someplace. In fact,” Alverato lowered his voice a little, “I guess you know Pendleton’s after your skin. Take my advice, boy, and use that stake you got to keep out of the way for a while. Later, come around some time and maybe I’ll have something else for you. Will you do that, Benny?” Alverato looked almost paternal. Then Benny caught on. His pocket was full with the payoff; he had been up, and he was out Alverato was through with him.
For a second he held his breath as if he were afraid to let go, afraid he’d sink into a small, crumbly ball once he let go.
“I’m through?” he managed to say.
Alverato gave him a look, seeing Benny for the first time.
“You’re sending me packing? You paid me off for a job and that’s it?” Benny’s voice didn’t get louder, but it had turned insistent and hard.
Alverato stopped sucking his smoke. “Something eating you kid? Ten grand isn’t enough, maybe?”
“Sure. It’s bigger than-”
“So what’s your beef?” Alverato wasn’t laughing any more.
Benny clamped his teeth on his lip and kept still. He was out on his ear and there was no bucking Big Al. Not now, anyway. Let the big ape find out for himself. Benny could wait. For once he would wait his turn, because there was one more ace in the hole that nobody knew about but him. And Pat.
“No beef, Al. Just trying to help.”
“When I need help, I’ll let you know, O.K.? When Big Al needs your help-”
“I’ll be around,” Benny said. “I’ll let you know where to find me.” He got up, not waiting for Alverato to answer, and sat in the back with Pat.
For the rest of the trip he didn’t talk. Alverato played cards with Birdie, while Pat lay in a fitful sleep, her thin body curled on the seat. Benny sat watching. She’d lost too much weight, she wasn’t well. He wondered for a moment how she’d come out of it all. She’d served her purpose, or almost, now, and it wouldn’t be long before she’d be out of the picture. For a moment he thought of her as the girl he had never got to know, never bothered to know; then he stopped there. A little later he gave her one more jolt in a glass of the raw whisky he’d bought. He hoped it would make her feel better.
After they landed, she left the field on Alverato’s arm. It was a gray, rainy day and she said she loved a gray day. She was hopped up again and didn’t even miss him.
Benny watched them leave across the flat runway, shiny with rain. Birdie was carrying a suitcase. Then Benny left the plane. Just a while back he had thought it was going to be different. He had thought about leaving the plane and feeling different. Not so tense any longer, not waiting so hard any more.
He turned up his collar and walked away. It hadn’t worked. He was going to wait again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Pendleton sat in his gold-and-black room with the view of the city. It was mostly gray mist now, but Pendleton had not been watching the city. The large plate glass was dotted with fat little drops and every so often they gathered body and shot down the smooth surface in quick little streams. Pendleton was watching that. He sat in the large gold-and-black room and his hands made a dry sound when he rubbed his palms together.
It was an aimless sitting. Pendleton rarely was aimless. The man Turk opened a door and Pendleton turned with a sharp movement. “What is it this time?”
“The phone again, Mr. Pendleton.”
“Louisiana?”
“No, Mr. Pendleton. It’s Alverato.”
Pendleton got up. Except for the lines down the side of his mouth, he looked as controlled as ever. “Tell him again. I am not interested.”
“Mr. Pendleton, he wants to know if you’re interested in hearing about your daughter.”
Pendleton didn’t turn; only his back stiffened.
He walked to the phone then, making precise little circles around the furniture.
“This is Pendleton,” he said into the phone. “You have my daughter?”
“You want to come over and talk business?”
“Of course, Alverato. When?”
“Two at my place. In the country.” And Alverato hung up.
Pendleton’s car reached the estate at three minutes before two. Turk was driving and Pendleton sat in the back, shades drawn, and his dry hands worked on the head of his cane in small spasms. A hidden device swung the large gates open and the car entered. Then the gate clicked shut again.
The big car had hardly moved around the first bend of the drive when they were stopped again, this time by a wide-shouldered guy who carried a Tommy gun. He stood in the middle of the road and raised his arm. When Pendleton snapped the shades of his windows up, he saw two more men coming out of the woods from the left, two from the right, and one from behind. They all carried Tommy guns.
The car had slowed, but apparently not enough. With an unexpected burst one of the guns ripped loose. The car jerked a few times and came to a bumpy stop with one front wheel ripped into shreds. When they opened the doors they waved at a pale and confused Pendleton, who stumbled from his seat, speechless. He stood in a circle of Tommy guns and then his pallid face turned dark. “The effrontery-” He was hoarse.
“Sorry, Mr. Pendleton. One of the boys got nervous.”
The man who had spoken followed him all the way to the house keeping the Tommy gun trained on his back. At the door, Birdie met them both and took Pendleton straight to Alverato.
The room was long. A narrow carpet led past an empty fireplace, a library table, the kind of urn that usually stands in a garden, and up to a massive desk. Alverato was sitting there and he watched Pendleton come the whole length of the room. There was no second chair by the desk.
“Hi, Pendy. Was that your car had a blowout?”
While Alverato laughed, Pendleton found his voice. It shook at first and sounded cracked, but then it was as cold as ever.
“You called concerning my daughter. I am here now-”
“Fine, Pendy, fine. You want a cigar?”
“Alverato. Will you come to the point of this visit? I have tolerated your idiot’s pranks only-”
“Pranks?” Alverato leaned back with a broad grin. “What pranks, Pendy?”
“That scene from a gangster movie outside.”
Alverato laughed for a minute, but then he leaned forward, his eyes mean. “It wasn’t so funny, was it, Pendleton? It kinda shook you up and brought you in line, didn’t it? Outdated methods, huh? But they work, don’t they, Pendleton?”
Pendleton’s mouth twitched, but then he got it under control. “I am still assuming you have my daughter. Let’s cut the horseplay and talk about that.”
“All right.” Alverato slapped his hand on the desk. “Let’s get to it. I got what you want, you got what I want. We trade.”
“You have what, Alverato?”
Alverato reached into a drawer and drew out some photos. “Your daughter,” he said.
The first one showed Pat at a table, frowning into the camera. Then there was one of Pat in bed, sleeping. The last one had her lying on a couch with a newspaper in her hand.
“Well, Pendleton?”
