Fast Buck

With ten grand in his pocket, he would be on easy street for months. But what was behind all this? If he was worth ten grand to him, this man must be worth considerably more to Kile.

The job appealed to Baird: it was dangerous, difficult and well paid. It would mean a change of scenery. He felt in the mood to tackle some impossible task: it would be an outlet for his pent-up mood of savage, aimless anger that had been slowly welling up inside him for the past two weeks.

He had heard about the Bellmore State Prison Farm. It was one of the toughest prisons in the country.

Abe Golheim had been there, and Abe had told him about the place. It was surrounded by a belt of swamp land, thirty miles long and ten miles broad. Up to now no prisoner had ever got through the swamp, although a number had tried. They had either been caught by the dogs or had drowned. There had been lurid rumours that several had been eaten alive by alligators.

To get a man out of that swamp would be a hell of a job, Baird thought, as he walked quickly along the sidewalk towards the garage where he kept his car and, if the man resisted, it could be impossible.

But difficulties never worried Baird. He never considered defeat. He would try, and if it didn’t come off it would be just too bad. If it did the prize of ten thousand was worth having.

But he would have to make certain the money was there. He didn’t trust Kile. He knew instinctively that Kile wasn’t the top man. Someone was using Kile as a front. Baird was sure Kile didn’t want the job to come off. Even before the final arrangements had been made, Kile was jumpy and scared. Someone bigger than Kile was pushing him into the job either by threats or by the inducement of money.

What was the doll-faced blonde doing mixing herself up in this? Where did she fit in? She was scared, too. When he had said the job wasn’t impossible, she had flinched as if he’d hit her. Before he committed himself he would have to find out something about these two, and if he could, find out who the top man was and why he wanted this man in jail kidnapped.

There might be even more than ten grand to pick up if he kept his ears and eyes open. The job seemed full of possibilities.

He reached the garage, got into the battered Ford and drove over to the walk-up apartment house where Anita rented her room.

He left the car a hundred yards or so beyond the entrance to the house, walked back and paused to look up at the top window. It was in darkness, and he grimaced, sure now she was asleep.

There were still a number of people in the street and sitting at open windows, and he felt their eyes on him. Two men sat on the doorstep to the apartment house, smoking, and as he came up the steps they looked curiously at him. One of them was Toni, and Baird gave him a hard, menacing stare.

Toni shifted quickly to one side to give Baird room to pass. Baird saw the scared look that came into Toni’s eyes, and he felt like taking Toni by his mop of black hair and banging his head against the wall until his brains spilled out.

But he kept on, walking into the smelly, dimly lit lobby, and began to mount the stairs, aware that Toni and his companion were staring after him.

He walked up the five flights of stairs until he came to Anita’s landing. He paused outside the door, listening. Then he went back to the banister rail and looked down to make sure no one was coming up or watching him. He saw no one, and he returned to the door and rapped softly.

‘Who is it?’

The sound of her voice sent a little prickle up his spine, surprising him.

‘Baird,’ he said, his mouth close to the door. ‘I want to talk to you.’

He leaned against the doorway and waited. He heard the light click on, the pad of bare feet on the floor, then the door opened.

She stood looking up at him, her dark eyes unafraid and enquiring. She had pulled on her shabby overcoat. Beneath it he caught a glimpse of her plain white nightdress he had seen her in so often.

‘What do you want?’ she said sharply. ‘I was asleep.’

He experienced a pang of disappointment that she wasn’t pleased to see him, but he wasn’t going to be put off.

‘I guessed you would be,’ he said. ‘I’ve just got in from New York. I thought I’d see how you were getting on.’ He moved forward, riding her back into the room.

‘I don’t want you in here,’ she said, stepping away from him. ‘Not at this hour.’

‘Take it easy,’ he said, moving around her to the sagging armchair. ‘You’re not scared of me, are you?’

‘Why should I be? I just don’t want you here so late.’

He sat down, his eyes searching her face. No, she wasn’t afraid of him. He could tel that by looking at her.

‘Get into bed,’ he said. ‘I won’t keep you long.’

‘No.’ She sat on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through her hair. She looked tired and pale, and he noticed her lips were whitish without the lipstick camouflage. ‘I’m dead beat. I wish you’d go. I don’t want you here.’

He felt a wave of irritation run through him, but he controlled it.