You Can Say That Again

He wrinkled his forehead.

‘You mean you get it?’

‘I get it.’

‘Okay. The other jerk didn’t get it.’ He lost his smile and looked like a tiger regarding a prospective meal. ‘Too bad for him.’

My mouth turned dry.

‘I heard he had a car accident.’

‘Sure . . . jerks like him often have car accidents.’ He smiled at me. ‘You’re smart, palsy. You won’t have a car accident.’

I didn’t say anything. The hint was there because Larry Edwards hadn’t cooperated, he had been murdered. I couldn’t accept this, but the hint was there.

‘Now, this afternoon, palsy, we start business. Just go along with it, huh?’

I nodded.

‘A creep will come and work you over. Just sit still and let him have his way. Get it?’

Again I nodded.

He smiled.

‘You know, palsy, you and me are going to get along fine together. I saw that movie of yours: The Sheriff of X Ranch. I thought it stank.’

‘So did I,’ I said hoarsely.

He widened his smile.

‘See what I mean? We’re going to get along fine.’

‘Mrs. Harriet liked it.’

‘Sure . . . women! They like anything that moves.’

He got to his feet. ‘Whatcha want to eat for lunch, palsy? You name it, you have it.’

My stomach was churning. The thought of food made me cringe.

‘I had a fine breakfast. Nothing, thanks.’

He released a soft laugh. It sounded like someone stepping on a pair of bellows.

‘Take it easy, palsy. You have nothing to worry about. I’ll have something light fixed for you, huh?’

He moved his great body to the door, turned, smiled his rat smile and went away.

Could Larry have been murdered?

I sat there, sweating.

Something went wrong with his brakes.

No, I couldn’t believe it. I pushed the frightening thought out of my mind.

So I just sat still. I didn’t even get up to look at the paperbacks. I had this frightening thought that now I had committed myself and had accepted the first payment, I would have to do whatever these people told me to do.

He had an accident. Something wrong with his brakes. He’s dead.

I thought of Mazzo’s rat smile.

Man! I thought. What the hell have you walked into?

Can it be possible, that unless you go along with these awful people, if you don’t do just what they want you to do, you could finish up dead?

I sat there, working myself up into a monumental panic.

At 13.00, Mazzo wheeled in a trolley.

‘Take something, palsy,’ he said. ‘It’ll be a long afternoon.’ He regarded me. ‘You feeling okay?’

‘Yes, but I don’t want anything.’

‘You eat something. Get it?’ There was a sudden snarl in his soft voice. ‘You’ve work to do,’ and he stalked out.

So I ate some of the lobster soup because I was scared not to. It was so good, I finally finished it, then sat away from the trolley, fighting the inclination to throw up.

Then action began.

Mazzo came in, inspected the empty tureen, smiled at me and wheeled out the trolley. Then Harriet, minus the poodle, came in, followed by a short, fat man in a short sleeved white overall, carrying what looked like an expensive vanity box.

This man was something to see. His hair, thick and long, was dyed the color of apricots. His eyelids were tinted pale blue and his lips were shell pink. He paused as the door slid shut and gave me a half sly, half roguish smile.

‘Jerry, dear,’ Harriet said. ‘This is Charles. He knows just what to do. Do, please, be cooperative. I want to make sure you will pass as my son.’ She turned to the fat little man. ‘Charles, this is Jerry Stevens.’

‘My dear boy!’ Charles gushed, bounding forward. ‘I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to meet you. I have seen so many of your wonderful movies! What talent! The Sheriff of X Ranch! I was overwhelmed!’ He seized my hand and shook it. ‘It is my great, great pleasure to meet you!’

‘Thank you,’ I said, not believing a word of this gush.

‘Charles!’ A curt note in Harriet’s voice made him stiffen. ‘You are wasting my time!’

‘Yes, yes, of course.’ He gave her a cringing smile. ‘We mustn’t waste time.’

I saw tiny sweat beads on his forehead.

‘Then get on with it!’ She moved to the door. ‘Ring when you have finished.’

Both Charles and I watched her leave, then when the door slid back, I said, ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Sit down, please, Mr. Stevens.’

He went to the box, opened it to display a complete make-up kit. From it he took a pair of calipers, a scratch pad and pencil.

‘I have to measure your face, Mr. Stevens. Forgive me for inconveniencing you,’ he said.

I held my head still while he took measurements, noting the results on the scratch pad.

As he was taking the measurements between my eyes, I became aware that he was whispering. Between his gush and his whispering, his conversation went like this: ‘Marvelous eyes, so full of personality. I’ve been kidnapped! Who are these people? Mr. Stevens! Your features are so regular! This dreadful woman terrifies me! I have been a prisoner for more than two months. Now allow me to measure your ears. Just turn your head to the right. Who is she? Please tell me. That’s perfect. Now the left ear.’

I realized this aged queer was in the same predicament as I was. He had been kidnapped to turn me into Harriet’s son.

‘I don’t know,’ I whispered. ‘I’m supposed to impersonate her son. I ‘ve been kidnapped too.’

Then looking beyond him as he was measuring my left ear, I saw Mazzo had come in silently. The sight of him, staring at me, scared the hell out of me.

Charles, seeing my change of expression, looked over his shoulder. I felt his fat frame tremble.

‘Ah, Mazzo!’ he exclaimed in a thin, shrill voice, ‘I have finished. All will be perfect!’

Mazzo moved into the room. On his arm, he carried clothing. He gave Charles his hungry tiger look, then he showed his rat teeth at me in a smile.

‘Put these on, palsy,’ he said.

He tossed a suit onto a chair.

‘Of course,’ Charles said. ‘The clothes.’

Aware that I was now sweating, I stood up, stripped off my clothes and put on the suit Mazzo had tossed on the chair.

This was some suit: a dark grey mohair that must have cost a bomb. It fitted me like a glove. Charles, his eyes frightened, fluttered around me, patting the suit, then he drew back.

‘The clothes will be no problem.’

Mazzo smiled at me.

‘You’re lucky. They didn’t fit the other jerk.’

I took off the suit and put on my own clothes while the two of them watched me.

My mind was darting around in sick panic, Jesus! What have I walked into? I thought. I looked at the wilting,