The Big Bite Read online

  “Aren’t we both,” I said. That’ll hold you for a minute, you sweet, deadly bitch. It did. She started humming in the shower.

  “All right, sir,” the operator said.

  I took my hand off the transmitter and spoke directly into it, very quietly. “Fort Worth. Person-to-person to George Gray at the Gray Midcontinent Equipment Company.”

  “Yes, sir. Will you hold on, please?”

  The humming continued from the bathroom. I breathed softly; she couldn’t possibly have heard me. All right baby, I thought; I’ve got you.

  I could hear Information in Fort Worth giving the number, and then the telephone ringing.

  The humming stopped. “Oh, John?”

  I grinned coldly. Putting my hand back over the transmitter, I said, “Stop the yakking for a minute, will you. I’m trying to make a telephone call. And turn off that shower.”

  The shower stopped abruptly. The door opened and she came out, naked, beautiful, and dripping, with a big towel in her hand. “A telephone call?” she asked with big-eyed innocence. “To whom, John?”

  I smiled. “Long distance. To a friend of mine. You may have heard me speak of him.”

  “Oh,” she said, with no surprise in her voice and no change of expression. The world lost a great actress, I thought. After six days she must have figured they about had it made, but no disappointment showed on her face at all.

  Just then George’s voice sounded in the receiver. “Hello? Gray speaking.”

  “John,” I said. “How are you, boy?”

  I held the receiver tightly against my ear. She’d be able to hear there was a voice on the other end and to recognize it as a man’s, probably, but unable to catch a word of what it said.

  “Well, you old son-of-a-gun,” George said. “It’s good to hear from you. How’s fishing?”

  I looked at her. “Fine,” I said. “It’s been very good. I just thought I’d let you know everything’s under control here, and that the trip has been very successful. We’ve made ourselves a deal, boy.”

  “Then you will go to work for us—?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Right away. Next Thursday, in fact. Oh, say, you got the package all right, I guess?”

  “Sure. Thanks a lot, John. You say—”

  “I knew you’d appreciate it.” I chuckled. “Thought they were tied up pretty neatly, myself. And hooked, what I mean. Well, I just didn’t want to let too much time go by without letting you know I was okay and that the deal was set. Here’s the scoop. I’m going down to Houston Thursday morning and I’ll be at the Rice Hotel by about eleven. I’ll get in touch with you from there about the details of the deal. I won’t take up any more of your time right now. See you, George.”

  “Fine,” he replied. “Good-by.”

  I hung up and looked at her again. She merely glanced at me questioningly and went on drying herself. Her breasts swung gently under the towel. “Then he’ll have the tape there by Thursday morning?” she asked in a matter-of-fact tone. “That was your fellow thug, wasn’t it?”

  I stared at her, partly in admiration and partly in amazement at her coolness, and then I caught on and just managed to restrain the impulse to laugh. She wasn’t acting at all. I’d just put on all that show for nothing; it had never occurred to her to doubt I was telling the truth about an accomplice.

  I grinned at her. “Honey,” I said. “You’re cute. And you’re stacked.”

  She smiled, and dropped the towel across the back of a chair as she looked down at herself. “How did you ever guess?” she asked.

  * * *

  We checked out of the hotel late Wednesday afternoon and started back. I drove. She sat rather quietly beside me for a long time. “I’ve had a wonderful time, John,” she said after a while.

  “Good,” I said. “So have I.” I felt wonderful. We were on the last lap. The whole thing had been so easy it was ridiculous and now all that remained was picking up the money.

  “After we’ve finished the business in Houston, wouldn’t you like to go down to Galveston?” she asked. “For just a few days?”

  Women never seemed to realize they defeat their own purpose. There’s nothing on earth you can need worse when you do and need less when you don’t. I was caught up. I started to open my mouth to tell her to get herself a new boy when it occurred to me there was no sense antagonizing her at this stage of the game.

  “Sure,” I said. “That would be wonderful. We’ll spend the weekend down there.” After all, as soon as I got my hands on that money I could fade and there was nothing she could do about it. I’d drive the car as far as Dallas, sell it, and take a plane to the Coast. I was already making plans.

  Mazatlan, on the west coast of Mexico, had been buzzing around in my head for a long time. A couple of years ago I’d made a trip down there with another guy on the squad after the season was over. We’d had a fine time, catching sails, and I could see the place was going to grow. They were putting a highway through all the way from the border and the tourists and fishermen were going to flock in. It might never be another Acapulco, but if an operator with a bankroll and a good eye for a buck moved in now he could get in on the ground floor. The thing to do was drift down there, shack up with some babe to learn the language, and keep an eye open all the time for the good thing.

  She was saying something again. “What?” I asked. I pulled out to pass a truck, and came back in the lane again.

  “I said I’ll have to stop at the house when we go through town and pack another bag. I’ll need beach things.”

  “Oh.” I thought about it. Well, why not? It’d be dark; nobody would see me with her if she pulled right into the garage. And while we were at the house she could use the phone to get a line on Tallant’s whereabouts before we went out to the camp to get my car started with the new battery I’d picked up. I didn’t like the idea of going out there at night without knowing where he was. He’d realize I was coming back sooner or later to get the car, and if he’d gone completely off his rocker by this time he might be waiting for me with a gun.

  “Sure,” I said.

  We stopped to have dinner on the way, and it was a little after nine p.m. When we came into Wayles. She was driving then. She skirted the Square, keeping to the darker streets. When we came up past the side of the Cannon house it was dark and the whole area was quiet except for the sound of a radio or television set coming from a house farther up the street. She stopped in front of the garage door, and got out to open it herself just in case one of the neighbors might be watching. She got back in and drove inside. I waited until she’d shut the door before I got out. We stood in the hot, airless garage with the headlights glaring against a white concrete wall. When she unlocked the door going into the kitchen, I cut the car lights and felt my way along after her.

  When we were inside the kitchen, I closed the door and latched it. She clicked on a light and smiled at me. “You know, we could stay here and go on down to Houston early in the morning. Nobody knows you’re in here.”

  I shook my head. “Let’s get going.”

  “All right,” she said.

  “Wait,” I told her, “Don’t turn on a light in the living-room. You can see through that drape if there’s enough light behind it.”

  “There’s nothing back of the house but a vacant lot,” she protested. Then she shrugged. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

  “That’s right. So just turn on one in the dining-room. That’ll give you enough to use the phone. I want you to call Tallant’s number.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “I want to know for sure where he is before we go out there to pick up my car.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, John. Are you still making a fuss about him?”

  “Never mind,” I said. I took her arm and shoved her through the door ahead of me. “Call him.”

  There was enough illumination in this end of the room for her to dial. I sat on the arm of the big chair on the other side of the
doorway. The air-conditioning was turned off and it was hot in the room and intensely silent. When she finished dialing I could hear the telephone ringing at the other end. No, it’s not really the phone ringing, I thought. It’s just an illusion the telephone company throws in to keep the subscribers pacified. It went on. There was no answer. She dropped the instrument back in its cradle and looked around at me.

  I didn’t like it at all. “Try his shop.”

  “He closes at six.”

  I took a cigarette from my pocket. “Never mind. Try it.”

  She shrugged. “All right, but he wouldn’t be there this time of night.”

  “Don’t give me so much static. What the hell, he does gunsmithing, doesn’t he? And keeps his books.”

  She dialed the number. “Is there any particular message you’d like me to give him?”

  “No. As soon as you hear his voice, hang up.”

  There was no answer.

  I lit the cigarette while she hung up and stood looking at me. “You know his habits. You got any idea where he could be?”

  “No.”

  “How about lodges? Pool halls? Where does he hang out when he’s not pawing up the shrubbery after somebody’s wife?”

  She shrugged. “He’s an amateur astronomer, he plays chess with a number of other men around town, and he goes away on two and three day fishing trips. He could be anywhere. What does it matter?”

  I waved a hand at her to cut out the yakking. I still didn’t like the idea of going out there at night not knowing where he was. Still, there were a lot of other places he could be. Maybe his nerve had broken and he’d left the country. Hell, I thought, it had been four days. He couldn’t have been out there waiting for us all that time. We’d take a chance on it.

  “Pack your bag,” I said. “Let’s get rolling.”

  “Are we going by to pick up your car?”

  “Sure. Shake it up, will you?”

  “I’d like to change before we go.”

  “All right, all right. Just don’t take all night.”

  “You sound nervous—”

  “Get the lead out, will you?”

  She started across the living-room toward the hallway leading to the other wing of the house. Then she stopped and turned. “You’ll have to reach down the bag for me,” she said. “It’s on a shelf in one of the bedroom closets.”

  “Okay,” I said. I followed her.

  The hallway turned at right angles. Beyond that it was very dark. I stayed close behind her, holding her arm so I wouldn’t bump into the walls. “Where’s the light?” I asked impatiently.

  We went through a doorway. I felt it brush my arm. “Here by the bed,” she said. “Just a minute.”

  She was standing close in front of me and I could tell she was groping around for the lamp. Suddenly she turned and put her hand on my arm. It slid upward, along my shoulder.

  “John,” she said softly, “let’s stay here tonight. We could go out there early in the morning and still be in Houston by noon.”

  “No.”

  “Please!” Her arms came up around my neck. She pulled my head down and her lips were against mine.

  I suppose it’s pure reflex. You’re whipped, but never completely defeated; if you were dying on your feet your reaction to that piece of business would always be the same. My arms tightened around her.

  “Don’t let me fall,” she whispered. All her weight seemed to be hanging around my neck.

  A light switch clicked and the room was full of sudden light. I whirled, taking her with me part of the way until she pushed hard against my chest, spun outward, and fell. Tallant was sitting crosswise in an overstuffed chair near the door we’d come in. His legs were hanging over the arm, and a pump shotgun was balanced across his knees.

  His eyes didn’t look crazy at all; they were just cold and very hard. He gestured slightly with one hand. “Nice work, Julia. Move to your left and stay down.”

  14

  She moved across the shaggy white rug on her hands and knees, toward the dressing table beyond the foot of the bed.

  “Sit down, Harlan,” he ordered.

  “Look—”

  “This is a twelve-gauge, loaded with fours. It’ll cut you in two.”

  I sat down on the side of the bed. It was a big king-sized affair with a blond oak headboard and green chenille spread. There were three windows in the room, their drapes all tightly closed.

  It had all happened a little too suddenly for me. One thing was obvious, though. He wasn’t crazy; the whole thing had been planned by both of them, and that business out at the cabin was an act.

  I was careful not to make any abrupt moves. “Listen, Tallant, I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but haven’t you forgotten something?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so.” His gaze shifted just slightly toward her, still keeping me in his field of vision. “We’re all right, I’m pretty sure,” he told her. “Checks out fine, so far.”

  She got off the rug and sat down on the upholstered bench before the dressing table. She sighed as she reached around for a pack of cigarettes lying among the cosmetics, and shook her head. “Believe me. I was glad to get your message.”

  I stared at her.. Message? For a moment I even forgot him and his gun.

  She glanced at him and smiled. “Mr. Harlan appears to be a little at sea about it all.”

  He shrugged. “He’ll catch on pretty soon.”

  “What the hell is all this?” I asked roughly.

  She lit the cigarette and regarded me coolly. “A simple enough message, Mr. Harlan. Merely a lone coffee cup sitting on the drainboard of the sink, out I in the kitchen. Would you care for a translation?”

  “Look,” I said. “I’m getting a little tired of this—”

  “It said, quite simply: bring the gentleman on back to the bedroom; everything is as planned.”

  “So we’re here,” I said. “So what of it?”

  I reached in my pocket for a cigarette, not remembering until I’d already started the movement that it could be a dangerous thing to do if he was at all trigger-happy with that shotgun. He merely watched me boredly. So she’d already given him the high-sign I didn’t have the gun with me. They were cute. They were just full of cloak-and-dagger routines.

  “You ought to be on television,” I said.

  They merely stared at me, saying nothing.

  I lit the cigarette. None of this business made any sense, but I wasn’t scared, even as deadly as he looked with that shotgun. Nothing could change the fact I still had them where I wanted them and they couldn’t touch me. I’d only been afraid of him when I thought he was about to flip his lid.

  “You were with him every minute he was out of the hotel room?” Tallant asked her.

  “Every second,” she replied. “He was never out of my sight. But he made one call from the room.”

  “Two,” he said.

  She nodded. “That’s what I meant. One beside the call to Harley and Bryson.” She paused, and then went on, “I gather, from the fact we’re all here, that you think it’s all right.”

  “I think so,” he said.

  “What’s all this flap about telephone calls?” I asked.

  “We’re trying to find out something,” Tallant replied coolly.

  “What? Or is it any of my business?” I asked. Then a little feeling of uneasiness took hold of me. How had he known I’d made two calls from the room?

  “We’ll get to it in a minute,” Tallant replied. “You came here to sell us a story. We’re just looking it over before we buy it. You don’t mind?”

  “No. It’s all right with me,” I said. “But suppose you fill me in. I gather that cuddly routine of hers and that punchy act of yours was supposed to get me out of there so you could shake down the cabin?”

  He nodded. “Partly.”

  I didn’t catch exactly what he meant by that, but I let it pass. “So what were you looking for? Maybe I could help you.�
��

  “A roll of recorder tape.”

  I glanced across at her. “Maybe you’d better tell him again.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Apparently he didn’t get the word. You saw me drop it in the mailbox.”

  She shrugged. “I saw you drop something in the box. Let’s put it that way.”

  “Are you crazy—?”

  Tallant broke in on me. He shifted a little in his chair, and said, “It’s hot in here, Julia. How about turning on the air-conditioner?”

  “Excuse me,” she said, and went out the doorway into the hall. In a moment I heard the unit begin humming. She came back.

  “I don’t know but what I’ve acquired an aversion to air-conditioned bedrooms that may stay with me for the rest of my life,” she said calmly as she sat down. “Four days and nights of Mr. Harlan’s lordly condescension could leave their mark on any girl.”

  There was a passing shadow of expression on Tallant’s face for the first time. His mouth grew hard, but he said nothing.

  “Look, what the hell is this?” I asked. “You saw me mail that roll of tape—”

  She leaned forward a little with her chin in the palm of her hand. “Of course you mailed something. I saw you, as you so obviously intended. It might or might not have been the roll of tape. My impression of it afterward was that when it fell into the box it didn’t sound heavy enough to be the real package. That’s just an impression, of course, and I’ll admit I could be wrong. However, whether you mailed it or not still isn’t the major consideration. You could very easily have put it in the mail addressed to yourself somewhere, or addressed to nowhere in particular. Illusion was your object, naturally, and it was quite effective, at least from a short range point of view. In football I believe you call it a fake handoff—” She broke off and studied me thoughtfully. “You’re still with me, Mr. Harlan?”

  I was with her, all right. I felt the uneasiness again. I was sunk, though, if I let them see it. “Cut it out,” I said curtly. “You mean you think I’ve still got it?”

  She smiled. “You’re following the wrong rabbit, Mr. Harlan.” “What do you mean?”