Not My Thing

‘A rich man wants to get rid of his wife,’ Lucan said. ‘She’s a strict RC and won’t give him a divorce. They can’t produce kids and that’s what he wants. He’s found a woman, and now wants to marry her, so he wants his wife knocked off. That’s the story.’

Kling lay still, slightly resembling a deadly snake, basking in the sun, then he nodded.

‘Sounds okay. So this creep will pay me three hundred thousand for getting rid of his wife?’

‘That’s it,’ Lucan said, uneasily. ‘There are conditions.’

Kling smiled evilly.

‘There always are. So…?’

‘A perfect job. No blow-back. No cops. A lethal accident.’

‘There’s never a blow-back when I do a job. Okay, tell this creep I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him how I’ll handle the job. I’ll want information about his wife.’

Lucan blotted his forehead with his handkerchief.

‘No, Ernie. He insists on dealing with only me as a go-between. That’s the last thing I want, but the deal isn’t on unless he deals with me.’

‘Why?’ Kling asked, now alert.

‘Well, he wants to remain anonymous until he is sure you come up with the perfect method.’

‘Sort of playing cagey, huh?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who is this guy, Lucky?’

‘I’ve asked around and through my connections which cost me, Ernie, I… ’

‘Cut out the crap, Lucky!’ Kling snarled. ‘Who is he?’

‘Sherman Jamison.’

Kling sat bolt upright, swinging his long legs off the settee.

‘You mean the Sherman Jamison?’

‘Is there another?’

Kling lay back, lit a cigarette and stared up at the ceiling. He remained motionless for some minutes, then he smiled.

‘So Jamison wants to get rid of his wife. Man! Is this a nice, tasty dish!’

Lucan didn’t say anything. He waited.

Kling thought, then he said, ‘You know this guy’s worth billions?’

Lucan licked his dry lips.

‘I believe so.’

‘Right. He and I are going to meet. This isn’t your thing, Lucky. This is between men. You’ve now got to fix I meet Jamison. You have to find out where he goes so I can meet him. Tell him I need information about his wife. Fix a meeting, then I’ll be there instead of you.’

‘It won’t work, Ernie. He’s too smart. He comes here, takes me in his car to a beach to talk. This guy is VIP and very dangerous.’

‘So, okay, he’s dangerous.’ Kling grinned. ‘I like dangerous guys. What’s he paying you, Lucky?’

‘I get a cut off yours,’ Lucan said uneasily. ‘He’s tight about money.’

Kling smiled again.

‘So I pay you, huh?’

‘I thought ten per cent would be fair.’

Kling burst out laughing.

‘You kill me! You’re so small-time, I’m almost sorry for you. Well, okay, you tell him I’ve got a perfect plan cooking, but I need information about his wife. Then fix another meeting. This time I’ll take over.’ He slid off the settee and walked to the table where he found paper and pencil. He wrote rapidly while Lucan, his heart thumping, watched him. Finally, Kling handed the sheet of paper to Lucan.

‘Those are the questions I want answered. Then tell him in two days’ time, you’ll tell him how I’ll get rid of his wife: a perfect job. Fix a meeting, then I’ll take over. Got it?’

‘I’d rather duck out of this, Ernie,’ Lucan said, taking the paper, folding it without reading what Kling had written and put it in his pocket. ‘Suppose you pay me off, and you handle Jamison? This isn’t my thing.’

As he got to his feet, Kling patted his shoulder.

‘Relax, Lucky. You’re now in the big league. If you want thirty thousand bucks, you’ve got to earn it. Run away, and get things fixed. There’ll be no problems.’

His hard hand still on Lucan’s shoulder, he steered him out of the cabin.

‘Bye now,’ he said, and shoved Lucan into the hot sunlight.

Ng came from the kitchen.

‘I don’t trust that man, sir,’ he said quietly.

‘That makes two of us,’ Kling said. ‘But he’s money-greedy. Let’s go take a swim.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Changed into swimming-trunks, they walked together to the sea.

‘If Lucan gets tricky, we can always fix him, can’t we, kid?’

Ng looked up at Kling with an adoring smile.

‘Yes, sir,’ he said.

The killer and the youth ran into the sea.

***

Jamison, in the rented Mercedes, pulled up outside the Star Motel at exactly 11.00. He paid no attention to the tall, lean, grey-haired man who was lying on a sun-lounge chair outside a cabin some yards from Lucan’s cabin. He was unaware that Kling was studying him behind his black sun-goggles.

Lucan hurried from his cabin and got into the Mercedes.

‘Good-morning, sir,’ he said, nervously.

Jamison was in a sour mood. He had talked to Tarnia on the telephone, telling her he wanted to drive her to the Miami airport to catch her Rome flight, but she firmly refused.

‘No, Sherry. The less we are seen together, for the moment, the better. I’m still thinking of that dreadful man, Drysdale. How I wish he hadn’t seen us together.’

‘Come on, darling,’ Jamison said impatiently. ‘Forget him. He knows he dare not print a word about you or me. Well, all right, if I can’t see you off, I’ll be thinking of you every minute. I understand. And, my darling, when you return, I feel absolutely sure, you will be Mrs Sherman Jamison in six months’ time.’