The Big Bite

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?”
“Frankly, there’s no way we could know whether you still have it or not. There are too many places you could have hidden it. But that’s not the issue at hand. What we’ve been trying to establish is that no one else has it. There’s a subtle and, very important difference. You see?”
“Look! Have you gone crazy? You heard me talking to the man I mailed it to—”
“Did I?” she asked softly. She glanced at Tallant then, and said, “Or perhaps I should ask Dan.”
I stared at one and then the other. “What in hell are you talking about?”
She smiled. “I think perhaps we are confusing Mr. Harlan, He may not be able to keep up.”
“You’ll have to judge that,” Tallant replied. “Appraising him was your job and, naturally, I haven’t had your opportunities.”
I shot a quick look at him. On the outside, he was as calm and efficient as ever, but this was the second time I’d had the impression he was being ridden hard by something he was trying to keep under control.
She caught it too. “Really, Dan.” Then she went on coolly. “Of course appraising him was my job, and I think I’ve done it. Mr. Harlan is what he himself would call a tough guy, but he’s not an utter fool. He’s almost completely insulated against every human emotion except greed, and he mistakes insensitivity for courage. He has imagination and daring of a sort, enough to conceive a plan like this and to attempt to carry it through alone, but not enough to recognize the flaws in it, and subtlety is not his dish of tea.”
He grunted. “Well, maybe we’d better bring him up to date.” He shifted the gun just slightly and went on in a level, cold voice, “You’ll recall, Harlan, you, told us we had two possible ways out. We could pay you, or, if we were convinced you were working alone, we could kill you. It was nice of you to point that out, even if a little unnecessary. So then you proceeded to prove to us that you were not working alone. The only trouble with it is we’re still not convinced you proved your point. And since neither of us is stupid enough to place himself at the mercy of a blackmailer for the rest of his life if there’s any other way out, we’re going to insist on a little more proof before we buy—”
I broke in on him. “Skip the diagram,” I said. “You think I’m bluffing, so you’re going to call me. But have you stopped to think that could be just a little dangerous? You’d never know you were wrong until the police knocked on the door.”
He nodded. “We know that. Or rather, let’s say we realize we’re supposed to be aware of it, as part of the rules. But there’s another and slightly more subtle angle to it I don’t think you’ve considered yet.
“However, let’s take all the aspects in their proper order so we’re sure we understand each other. First, if something happens to you, your accomplice is going to turn that tape and your letter over to the police.
Right?”
“Of course.”
“Very well. Now. That raises an interesting question. Just how does he know something has happened to you?”
I grinned coldly. So that was their angle, all along. Catching it back there in the hotel room that morning had saved my life.
“How does he know?” I asked. “Why, when he quits hearing from me, of course.”
He nodded. “I see. And just when was the last time he did hear fr6m you?”
I looked at her and grinned. “Tell him, honey.”
She returned my glance with an enigmatic smile, and said, “No. You tell him.”
I shrugged. “Sure, if you insist. Don’t you want him to know you were standing there at the foot of the bed, naked, while you listened to me talking to him?” I turned to Tallant. “It was around ten-fifteen yesterday morning.”
His eyebrows raised. “You’re sure of this?”
“Ask your lady friend,” I said. “That was what she was there for, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, we know you made the call, all right. The thing I’m questioning is whether the man you talked to even knew anything about this.”
I felt the little shiver go up my back again. It was unaccountable, because I knew there was no way on earth they could have checked the call. She couldn’t have heard me give the name to the operator, and I’d kept my eye on her from then on, to be sure she hadn’t tried to get it out of the hotel operator. She had never been out of my sight a minute.
“Nuts,” I said. “Now you’re beginning to talk like an idiot. Why don’t you ask her to repeat the conversation?”
He shook his head. “I don’t have to. I know who the man was you talked to, and I don’t think he’s in the blackmail business, or about to go in it. His name is George Gray. He’s vice president and second largest stockholder in the Gray Midcontinent Equipment Company of Fort Worth, son of the founder, worth around three-quarters of a million dollars, married, has two children, member of the Chamber of Commerce, and the best country club, and he’s quite active in his church, in Community Chest and hospital drives, and in several civic organizations. That sound like a blackmailer to you?”
My mouth dropped open. I could only stare at him.
“Now, Harlan,” he went on coldly, “what we’re interested in finding out from you is whether you’re going to insist Gray is your accomplice, which is ridiculous, or if not, why you called him instead of the real accomplice— if you even have one.”
I couldn’t say anything. My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.
He smiled coldly. Still holding the gun across his knees with his right hand, he reached into his jacket pocket with his left and brought something out. I stared. It was a roll of recorder tape.
“Great machine, the recorder,” he said. “Private detectives use them, too. Your telephone in that hotel room was bugged after the first day.”
Then he had both sides of the conversation.
He must have seen it in my face. “You’re so right, Harlan. Gray didn’t even know what you were talking about, as near as I can gather. He thought you were referring to the job he offered you. I don’t know what was actually in the package you sent him, but obviously it wasn’t recorder tape. So let’s hear your story, and you’d better make it good.”
I tried to pull myself together and get my mind to work. They were deadly as hell, and they were closing in on me. Only one thing was clear, and that was the moment they were absolutely certain I was alone in this thing they’d kill me like erasing a mistake in a letter. Maybe I was done for now, but the only thing left was to go on bluffing. They hadn’t quite made up their minds yet, or I wouldn’t be alive now.
I leaned forward and tried to make my voice sound tough. “My story? It’s exactly the same thing I told you from the first. You know that roll of recorder tape will hang you. She saw me put it in the mail. You know I haven’t got it, because you searched the cabin and the car. Therefore, somebody else’s got it. You don’t know who, and there’s no way you can find out. Now, if you want to take a chance I’m lying about it, go ahead. There’s only one way you can lose, and that’s to lose all the way. The first time you’ll know you were wrong is when the cops knock on the door. You’re tough, but | not that tough. Nobody is.”
“Why not?” she asked innocently. “Look at it yourself. You can see what the odds are. And if you’re wrong you go to the chair. That’s a rough dose.”
She turned toward him and smiled fleetingly. “You see, Dan? Psychological fine points are not Mr. Harlan’s forte.”
“Put it away,” I said. “You’re not even making sense.”
“I think we are,” he said. “Remember, I told you there was another angle you hadn’t considered?”
“Sure. More double-talk.”
“Not at all. It’s quite real, and it has a definite bearing on the validity of the threat. We’re not in as much immediate danger as you think.”
“Bat sweat.”
“I’m serious. Just listen for a moment. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that you’re telling the truth. We grant you an accomplice.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“Let’s be very original and call him X. And now we stipulate further that you’ve come up here to do something that could be highly dangerous, and that you have vanished.”
“Go on,” I said.
“The specified time has run out with no word from you. He assumes, correctly enough, that something has happened to you. So what does he do?”
“Now, that’s a bright question. What do you think he does? He turns the tape and the letter over to the police.”
Tallant shook his head with a faint smile. “No.”
“Don’t be stupid. Of course he does.”
“I don’t think so, and right there is the point you overlooked. Your whole threat is just a threat on paper, an arbitrary rule set up in an imaginary game. He doesn’t turn it over to the police, for the simple reason that he would have everything to lose and nothing whatever to gain.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake—”
The smile became a little colder. “You don’t see it yet? What, specifically, does he stand to gain? Revenge? Don’t be stupid yourself. What the hell does he care about you, or what happened to you? He’s not a relative, because you have none. We checked.”
“He’s a friend of mine—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. In your business, friends are expendable.”
“So what does he stand to lose? Eight cents worth of stamps.”
They exchanged glances. “What does he stand to lose?” he asked. “Really, Harlan. He stands to lose a hundred thousand dollars.”
I saw what he was driving at, and I could feel the walls move a little closer around me.
He went on like a professor giving a lecture. “This tape you have is worth nothing in itself. It has only what we will call potential value, or value solely as a threat. The minute you carry out the threat, its value drops to zero. You understand that, I suppose? The police would give him nothing for it, obviously. All they’d do, if they found out who he was, would be to put him in jail for not giving it to them sooner. So there we come right to the heart of the matter.
“X has something that has a potential value of—to use your own figure—a hundred thousand dollars. That is, as long as he hangs onto it and threatens us with it. So why Would he turn it over to an ungrateful bunch of slobs like the police and have its value drop to zero when he can retain it himself and keep the value alive? Is he insane?”
I tried to say something. I couldn’t.
He continued. “So what happens? Nothing, in our opinion. Except that sometime in the future, after you have disappeared completely, friend X comes sidling up to us with the same old sad story.”
I got myself started at last. “So what have you accomplished? You have to pay him off.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps. If you do have an accomplice, we’re probably ruined, because the thing becomes an endless chain and could go on forever. You’d bleed us white, or we’d have to try to escape. But we’re almost certain now you haven’t; got one.”
He stopped, and the room was silent except for the faint humming of the air-conditioner somewhere in the house. I tried to estimate my chances of getting to him without being cut in two by that shotgun, and came up with an even zero.
He apparently read my thoughts. He shook his head “Not now. We’re going to wait you out.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re going to see if X does show up. We don’t think he will, but if he does we haven’t got any more to lose by waiting for him than we have by being suckers and paying you now. We’re going to keep you here. Nobody saw you come in. Nobody knows where you are. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you’ve already disappeared, and could be dead.”
I felt cold all over. “You can’t get away with it.”
“I think so,” he replied calmly. “Do you know what a trial balloon is?”
I just stared at him.
“It’s a political dodge. A politician deliberately lets something leak to sample public reaction before he commits himself. If he gets the wrong reaction, he can deny the whole thing. That’s your status at the moment. You’re a trial balloon.”
The room was silent. Nobody moved. “You see?” he went on. “It’s an unusual sort of thing. We’re going to find out exactly what would happen if you turned up missing. Before you actually do, that is.”