The Postman Always Rings Twice - James M. Cain [36]
"You mean that hop dream she called a confession?"
"That's it. Of course, I know there wasn't anything to it, but I thought you might like to get it back."
"How much do you want for it?"
"Well, how much would you pay?"
"Oh, I don't know. As you say, there's nothing to it, but I might give a hundred for it. Sure. I'd pay that."
"I was thinking it was worth more."
"Yeah?"
"I figured on twenty-five grand."
"Are you crazy?"
"No, I ain't crazy. You got ten grand from Katz. The place has been making money, I figure about five grand. Then on the property, you could get ten grand from the bank. Papadakis gave fourteen for it, so it looked like you could get ten. Well, that makes twenty-five."
"You would strip me clean, just for that?"
"It's worth it."
I didn't move, but I must have had a flicker in my eye, because he jerked an automatic out of his pocket and leveled it at me. "Don't start anything, Chambers. In the first place, I haven't got it with me. In the second place, if you start anything I let you have it."
"I'm not starting anything."
"Well, see you don't."
He kept the gun pointed at me, and I kept looking at him. "I guess you got me."
"I don't guess it. I know it."
"But you're figuring too high."
"Keep talking, Chambers."
"We got ten from Katz, that's right. And we've still got it. We made five off the place, but we spent a grand in the last couple weeks. She took a trip to bury her mother, and I took one. That's why we been closed up."
"Go on, keep talking."
"And we can't get ten on the property. With things like they are now, we couldn't even get five. Maybe we could get four."
"Keep talking."
"All right, ten, four, and four. That makes eighteen."
He grinned down the gun barrel a while, and then he got up. "All right. Eighteen. I'll phone you tomorrow, to see if you've got it. If you've got it, I'll tell you what to do. If you haven't got it, that thing goes to Sackett."
"It's tough, but you got me."
"Tomorrow at twelve, then, I phone you. That'll give you time to go to the bank and get back."
"O.K."
He backed to the door and still held the gun on me. It was late afternoon, just beginning to get dark. While he was backing away, I leaned up against the wall, like I was pretty down in the mouth. When he was half out the door I cut the juice in the sign, and it blazed down in his eyes. He wheeled, and I let him have it. He went down and I was on him. I twisted the gun out of his hand, threw it in the lunchroom, and socked him again. Then I dragged him inside and kicked the door shut. She was standing there. She had been at the door, listening, all the time.
"Get the gun."
She picked it up and stood there. I pulled him to his feet, threw him over one of the tables, and bent him back. Then I beat him up. When he passed out, I got a glass of water and poured it on him. Soon as he came to, I beat him up again. When his face looked like raw beef, and he was blubbering like a kid in the last quarter of a football game, I quit.
"Snap out of it, Kennedy. You're talking to your friends over the telephone."
"I got no friends, Chambers. I swear, I'm the only one that knows about--"
I let him have it, and we did it all over again. He kept saying he didn't have any friends, so I threw an arm lock on him and shoved up on it. "All right, Kennedy. If you've got no friends, then I break it."
He stood it longer than I thought he could. He stood it till I was straining on his arm with all I had, wondering if I really could break it. My left arm was still weak where it had been broke. If you ever tried to break the second joint of a tough turkey, maybe you know how hard it is to break a guy's arm with a hammerlock. But all of a sudden he said he would call. I let him loose and told him what he was to say. Then I put him