Not My Thing

Lucan was leaning forward, his eyes wide with apprehension.

‘What’s the plan, Ernie?’ he asked, his voice a little shrill.

‘It has to be perfect,’ Kling said, paused to sip his drink, enjoying keeping Lucan tense. ‘No blow-back. No cops. Not easy. This morning, Lucky, I went to Mrs Jamison’s church to case the joint. The whole setup fell into place. Now, relax and listen carefully.’ In a soft, hard clipped voice, Kling told Lucan of the plan: the assassination of O’Neil in which Jamison’s wife would be involved. The IRA claiming responsibility. Too bad Mrs Jamison was also wiped out.

Lucan listened with growing horror.

‘You can’t do that!’ he gasped, scarcely able to speak. ‘A bomb! How about the rest of the congregation? The priest?’

‘Oh, sure. I pointed that out to Jamison. A shrapnel bomb would certainly knock off the priest as well as O’Neil and Mrs Jamison. The old fuddy duddies waiting to shake hands would be knocked off too. He thought about this, then shrugged. He could see it was the perfect plan to get rid of his wife. Who cares about O’Neil? The priest? The oldies? He gave me the green light to go ahead, and is paying a hundred thousand dollars into my Swiss bank as an advance. You’ll get ten thousand of it.’

Lucan jumped to his feet, his face the colour of tallow, his eyes bugging out.

‘No! I won’t have anything to do with this! I don’t give a damn about the money! You’re out of your mind, Ernie! It’ll be mass murder! No! No!’

Kling burst out laughing. He lolled back, laughing, while Lucan stared at him in horror. When the laughing fit ceased, Kling straightened, then finished his drink and set the glass down.

‘Lucky, you have a brain even a chicken wouldn’t envy,’ he said, the expression on his face now hard. ‘Sit down and listen.’

Lucan was so shaken, he was glad to sit down.

‘I said no!’ he managed to get out. ‘I mean it!’

‘Oh, pipe down!’ Kling snarled. ‘Do you imagine for a moment I intend to kill some twenty people to get rid of a woman who stands in the way of a bastard like Jamison?’ He leaned forward. ‘But Jamison thinks so. I’ve sold him on the idea. He couldn’t give a damn so long as he is rid of his wife.’

Lucan wiped his sweating face with his handkerchief.

‘So you’re not going to do it?’

‘Of course I’m not going to do it! I’ve got a hundred thousand bucks out of him. How’s that for starters?’

Lucan finished his drink.

‘You had me scared. Jesus. I really thought…’

‘Lucky, you’re so stupid it’s not true,’ Kling said with a snarl in his voice. ‘No wonder you chase old, randy women for a living. Do you imagine I would settle for three hundred thousand to knock off the wife of a bastard worth billions? I’ve checked him out. He’s worth at least five billion and has unlimited credit. This deal, Lucky, is worth at least five million to me, and ten per cent to you works out at half a million.’

Lucan stiffened. He felt his mouth turn dry.

A half a million dollars!

‘He’ll never pay it,’ he said, his voice quavering. ‘He’ll find someone else. You’re crazy, Ernie.’

‘He’ll have to pay it,’ Kling said and grinned. ‘This is not going to be a murder job: it’s going to be a kidnap job.’

Lucan felt a tremor of fear run through him.

‘Kidnap? That’ll bring in the FBI. No, I don’t go along with that!’

‘This is a chance in a life-time, Lucky,’ Kling said. ‘I’ve got it all worked out. It’s now up to you. If you want to earn a half a million, then you’re in, but if you want to chicken out, say so. I can always find someone else for that kind of money.’

Half a million dollars! Lucan’s mind reeled at the thought.

‘How do I earn it?’ he asked, sitting forward and staring at Kling.

‘When Mrs Jamison is snatched,’ Kling said, ‘I want a safe-house somewhere in this city to hide her. Now you know the district. Can you find me a safe-house? That’s how you earn the money.’

‘I don’t have a thing to do with the snatch? I don’t have anything further to do with Jamison? All I have to do is to find a safe-house for Mrs Jamison?’ Lucas was gaining confidence.

‘You read me, Lucky,’ Kling said smoothly. ‘Maybe some odds and ends for you to help clear up, but that’s your big job.’

‘What odds and ends?’ Lucan demanded suspiciously.

‘How do I know? No one earns a half a million without working for it, but you’ll have nothing to do with the snatch nor anything to do with Jamison.’

The thought of owning half a million dollars reduced Lucan’s fears.

‘How do I get the money?’

‘As soon as I get the ransom from Jamison, I’ll fix it you get your cut. You can have it in cash.’

‘Not cash!’ Lucan shuddered. ‘That’s too easily traced. How the hell can I pay all that money into my bank without starting a stink?’

‘Have you got a Swiss banking account?’

‘No.’