1972 - You're Dead Without Money (11 page)

Vin drove to a deserted part of the beach and he and Judy got out of the car and as soon as he had closed the car door he saw she had her pants off. He took her and she responded like she was demented. When it was over, she put her pants on and made for the car.

Vin tried chatting her up, but she told him to shut his head and take her home. He thought his so-called lovemaking had rocked her so violently she wasn’t in the mood to talk so he went along with her.

He was pleased with himself. He imagined telling Elliot all the details of how he had got to first base after meeting Judy for only ten minutes. This achievement restored his confidence in himself. He would be able to prove to Elliot he was a better man than he, but he had an unpleasant surprise when he pulled up outside the gates leading to the Larrimore home.

‘Okay, baby,’ he said, getting out of the Jaguar. ‘How’s about tomorrow night? Let’s go and take the town apart.’

‘No . . .’ She got out of the car and started for the gates.

‘Hey! Wait a minute!’

She paused and turned.

‘I said no.’

‘What’s the idea?’ Vin demanded, puzzled, and he reached for her.

‘Keep your paws off me,’ she snapped. ‘We don’t meet again . . . you’re not my thing,’ and she started again towards the gates.

For a moment Vin stood rooted, not believing what he had heard, then he got a rush of blood to his head and he grabbed her arm and swung her around. He ran into a slap in the face that made his eyes blink and she wrenched free.

Then out of the shadows came the two hippies. They had been waiting for the past hour. They had bicycle chains around their right fists and they came at Vin on either side of him.

‘Get him, boys!’ Judy screamed. ‘Mark the bastard!’

Vin had lived a life of violence. He couldn’t remember how many times he had been in a spot like this and had survived.

As Larry, the bigger of the hippies, slashed at his face with the chain, Vin ducked under the flaying steel, caught hold of Judy and flung her at Larry. They both went sprawling. The other hippie caught Vin across the neck with his chain. Weaving, Vin rushed him, grabbed his wrist, twisted him around and drove a crushing punch into the boy’s kidneys. The hippie sank on to his knees, moaning.

Larry was up and again his chain whistled towards Vin who just managed to duck under it, then Vin jumped forward and drove the top of his head into Larry’s face. Larry’s teeth gave as he was flung back. He tried to regain his balance, tripped over his own feet and fell. Stepping up to him, Vin kicked him in the side of his head and Larry went limp.

Vin touched the side of his neck. Blood was dripping from the cut inflicted by the chain. He looked at the two hippies, satisfied he would have no more trouble from them, then he turned and looked at Judy.

‘How about tomorrow night, baby?’ he asked quietly. ‘Suppose I pick you up here around nine?’

Judy was staring at him, her eyes wide, then she suddenly laughed.

‘Man! That was something! Yes . . . I’ll be here.’

He went to her and pulled her to him. The blood from the cut on his neck dripped on to her bare shoulder.

‘Be here, baby,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t want to bust into your home and drag you out . . . okay?’

‘Yes.’

He ran his hand over her body. She stood placid and let him. Then after squeezing her buttocks, he shoved her away, strolled over to his car and drove off.

On his return to the bungalow, he got Elliot aside and told him what had happened.

‘She’s a little animal, but I’ve got her fixed,’ he said. ‘I know the type. The rougher you treat them, the harder they fall for you.’

But Elliot was worried. This seemed to him to be moving too fast.

‘Suppose she isn’t there tomorrow night?’

Vin grinned.

‘She’ll be there. I’ve got what it takes, pally. I know how to handle women.’

* * *

She was there, standing outside the gates of the house when Vin drew up in the Jaguar at a minute after 21.00. Vin grinned to himself as he leaned over to open the offside door. She had on a patterned Mexican shirt, hot pants and knee-high boots. Her silky red hair fell in unruly waves to her shoulders and Vin again thought she was the sexiest dish he had seen in years.

‘Hi, Superman!’ she said as she got in and slammed the car door. ‘See? Here I am.’

‘Fine. You look good enough to eat,’ Vin said, ‘and talking about eating . . . let’s eat.’

With the car radio blaring swing, he drove fast to the Lobster and Crab restaurant at the far end of the waterfront. This was a small, expensive but ‘with it’ restaurant Elliot had told him about.

‘It’s just right for her,’ Elliot said as he had given Vin three hundred dollars for spending money. ‘Take it easy. Don’t rush anything.’

Judy made an impact as she strutted into the restaurant.

People stared at her and she enjoyed being stared at. Vin, following behind, realized that Elliot had made the right choice. This was away from the hippie scene and yet ‘in’ enough to appeal to Judy.

The Maître d’hôtel, dressed as a pirate even to a black patch over his eye and skull and cross bones on his Napoleon hat, took them into an alcove to a table set for two away from the rest of the diners.

There was a Negro band playing violent jazz and the trumpeter was in the class of Louis Armstrong. You had to shout to each other to be heard.

Judy sat down and looked around, her eyes sparkling.

‘Hey, Superman! This is my thing!’

‘None of your kids bring you here?’ Vin asked.

Her smokey green eyes hardened.

‘Don’t give me that. They’re not such kids and I get along with them.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Vin turned to the Maître d’hôtel who had come up for their order. ‘Let’s have crab cocktails, steaks and all the trimmings and whisky sours.’

Again Elliot had told him what to order.

‘Yes, sir.’ The Maître d’hôtel went away.

‘Don’t ask me what I want to eat,’ Judy said, glaring at him.

‘Why should I? You’re in the hamburger class, baby. You choose what you want when you’re with the kids. I’ll choose for you when you’re with me.’

‘Man! Don’t you think you’re perfect?’

‘That’s what I am.’ He grinned at her. ‘And you’re not so lousy either.’ He shoved back his chair. ‘Let’s dance.’

They danced and they ate and Vin could see Judy was enjoying herself. By the way she ate, he decided she was a strictly hamburger girl. As soon as they had finished, he paid the check, letting her see the roll of five-dollar bills he took carelessly from his pocket, then led her out into the hot night air.

‘Come on, baby, let’s kick this town apart,’ he said, getting into the Jaguar.

‘Where are we going now?’

‘The Alligator Club,’ Vin said. ‘You know it?’

Judy’s eyes popped wide open.

‘Why, no . . . that’s strictly big time. Are you a member?’

‘Why, sure. You mean none of your kids ever took you to the Alligator?’ Vin asked. He had never been there himself but again Elliot had fixed things with a telephone call to the Secretary of the Club . . . about the only club in the City where Elliot didn’t owe money.

‘Man!’ Judy said under her breath. ‘Let’s go!’

They danced, drank and finally had a swim in the vast pool before leaving the dub at 02.00.

‘Now we get laid,’ Vin said who was thoroughly enjoying himself. He found Judy an amusing companion. ‘We’ll go to the Blue Heaven motel. Okay?’

‘Why not?’

During the evening he had told her he was an account executive, working for a top advertising agency in New York and was on vacation. Elliot had given him enough background details to make his cover stand up. Judy didn’t seem interested in what he was but only became alert when he talked money. He could see that money was her only interest so he talked money.

‘That’s what I want,’ Judy said. ‘I want money. I want to get away from home, get away from my stinking father, live a life of my own.’

‘What’s the matter with your father?’ Vin asked as he drove along the highway towards the motel.

‘Matter? Don’t talk wet! Every parent is a pain in the ass and anyway, my father’s special. All he thinks about is postage stamps for God’s sake!’

‘What’s so special about postage stamps?’

‘Oh, the hell with it! Why talk about him?’

‘Tell me . . . I’m interested. Does he make money out of stamps?’

‘He spends money, the old goat! He has thousands of goddamn stamps. You know something? He’s been offered a million dollars for eight goddamn Russian stamps! A million dollars and the old ape wouldn’t deal!’

Vin nearly drove off the highway. He swung the wheel wildly, got back on to the road as a driver of a car behind him honked on his horn.

‘You drunk?’ Judy demanded. The swerve at the speed they were driving at scared her.

‘You never been drunk?’ Vin said. ‘Relax. I was listening to you and my mind strayed.’

‘Man! Don’t let it stray again.’

They drove in silence while Vin turned this sensational bit of information over in his mind.

These must be the stamps Elliot was after! he thought. Holy mackerel! Elliot was offering fifty thousand and here was this chick telling him they were worth a million!

A million!

He felt his mouth turn dry. Here was the Big Take! The real Big Take! His mind worked swiftly. If he handled this carefully and used his head there would be no need to split the take four ways. Elliot, Cindy and Joey could go to hell. After all he (Vin) was the front man. All he had to do was to get information from this stupid chick and he could cash in for a million! The thought brought him out into a sweat.

‘What’s the matter with you all of a sudden?’ Judy asked crossly. ‘Have you gone dumb on me?’

With an effort, he switched his attention back on her.

‘You wait, baby,’ he said, aware his voice sounded husky. ‘Let’s get to the motel . . . I’ll show you if I’m dumb or not.’

In another five minutes driving, he turned off the highway and drove up a long twisty road that led to the motel.

He slid out of the car, saying, ‘I’ll go fix it. You wait here.’

Minutes later he returned to the car, opened the offside door so Judy could get out and together they walked across to one of the cabins.

Elliot’s warning not to rush things hammered in Vin’s mind.

They had the rest of the night. He must play this cool. A million dollars! Who could be the nut to offer all that bread for eight stamps? This, he told himself, he had to find out.

He unlocked the door of the cabin and they went in. The Blue Heaven motel, again recommended by Elliot, had
de luxe
cabins. A big room, furnished with modern lounging chairs, a settee, a colour TV set and a fully stocked bar, greeted them. There was a bedroom with a king’s size bed to their left and a bathroom to their right.

‘Fancy,’ Judy said approvingly as she looked around.

Vin shut and locked the door.

The bed was prepared and inviting.

‘Strip off, baby,’ he said, ‘and take a shower. I want to catch the late news.’ He went over to the TV set and turned it on.

‘What’s so important about the news?’ Judy asked as she slid out of her clothes.

‘Never mind . . . hurry it up,’ Vin said curtly. He wanted her out of the way so he could think.

Now naked, Judy went into the bathroom and shut the door.

A million dollars!

This was the only thought in Vin’s head.

He stared at the lighted screen without registering what was going on while he thought. This chick wanted money. She had said so. If he handled her right, she and he could get the stamps and with her know-how sell them for this lump of money. Maybe she could find out who had made the offer. She could for sure tell him how to get the stamps. A million! Sweet Judas! The thought made Vin’s pulse rate bound.

Once he had the money he could deal with Judy. She wasn’t his style. She was too tricky and tricky chicks weren’t for him. Once they had the money, he would lose her. But he must be careful, he warned himself. He mustn’t rush it. So okay, he would play this cool. He turned off the TV as Judy came out of the bathroom.

He got to his feet and grinned at her.

‘Come and get it,’ she said and going to the bed, she lay down, swung up her long legs and beckoned to him.

Five

I
t was while they were eating breakfast on the patio, the morning sun shining on them, that Vin began his probe.

‘If I’m going to make it a regular thing to go around with you, Superman,’ Judy was saying, ‘I’m going to get fat.’

She was engaged in eating a breakfast of grapefruit, eggs and grilled ham, toast and coffee, and she was eating as if she hadn’t had a meal in days.

Vin had settled for orange juice, coffee and a cigarette. He grinned.

‘This is what comes of going around with kids, baby,’ he said. They can’t afford to feed a girl like you. Don’t worry about getting fat. I’ll give you enough exercise to keep your weight down.’

Judy giggled.

‘You’ve got something . . . hang on to it.’

‘Tell me about your old man,’ Vin said casually. ‘You two don’t get along together?’

‘That’s the understatement of the year,’ Judy said, buttering toast. ‘I don’t want to talk about him. He gives me a pain in my ass.’

‘But these stamps you were telling me about.’ Vin reached for another cigarette. ‘You said someone offered him a million for eight stamps. Were you putting me on?’

‘No. I saw the letter on his desk.’ She heaped marmalade on the toast. ‘You could have knocked me down with a whisky bottle.’

‘You mean some crackpot actually offered your old man all that bread for eight goddamn stamps?’

‘That’s it. It made me sick to my stomach. All that money! What I could do with it! The stupid old bastard just threw the letter in the trash basket.’

‘Just what are these stamps?’

She shrugged.

‘Oh, something he got hold of. People are always sending him stamps. I don’t know. Look, Superman, let’s skip my old man. Let’s talk about something else.’

Vin poured himself another cup of coffee.