The Soft Centre

‘What’s the matter with you?’ Gina shrilled. ‘You’re not letting this fat slob dictate to you, are you?’

‘Get out!’ Jacko said and heaved himself out of his chair.

As Hardy made no move to protect her, she turned and ran into her bedroom, slamming the door. Hardy walked over to the cocktail cabinet and poured himself a large Scotch.

‘Have you gone nuts, Jacko?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. ‘Put that goddamn gun away!’

Jacko lowered his bulk into the chair. He laid the gun on the broad arm of the chair as he watched Hardy take a drink.

‘The cops know we knocked off Henekey,’ he said. ‘They’ve got a witness.’?‘Damn you!’ Hardy exclaimed, his face flushing with rage. ‘Why weren’t you more careful?

Who’s the witness?’?‘A kid. Moe went out to the Motel to take care of her, but the cops beat him to it. Toey Marsh saw her fingering me, so Moe slit him. Now we are right in the crap to our necks.’

Hardy wiped the cold sweat off his face. He struggled to fight down a rising panic. He said, ‘Now look, Jacko, you get out of here. From now on, you and Moe are on your own. You’re not dragging me into this. You get out!’

Jacko fanned himself with his dirty handkerchief.?‘They catch us… they catch you. Moe’s coming here. We’ll sit and wait for him.’

Hardy remembered the gun he had in his desk drawer. If he could kill this fat queer, he could tell the police it was in self-defence. He was sure Gina would back him up and the cops could never hang anything on him with Jacko… and Moe, of course, out of the way.

‘Well, if you feel that way about it,’ he said and wandered casually towards his desk. ‘We’ll wait for Moe.’ He began to open a drawer in his desk when Jacko said, ‘You want to die, baby? What’s it to me to kill a second time? Get away from that desk!’

Hardy looked at the .38 pointing at him, then shrugged and moved away from the desk and sat down.

Moe got off the bus at the Miami terminal. He was now worried. If he couldn’t find this kid and knock her off, Jacko and he would be for the gas box. But how to find her? Where had the cops taken her?

He moved quickly through the crowd milling around the terminal and approached the taxi rank. The driver of the first cab was a Jamaican. He nodded to Moe as he opened the cab door. Moe told him to drop him at the beginning of Bay Shore Drive. As the cab moved away, Moe lit a cigarette and tried to relax. He had a ten minute drive ahead of him and he concentrated his thoughts on what his next move should be.

The driver switched on the radio to dance music. As he was approaching Bay Shore Drive, the music faded and the announcer said, ‘We interrupt this programme for a police message. The police are anxious to question Moe Lincoln, a Jamaican, who they believe can help them with their inquiries concerning the murder of Toey Marsh who was stabbed to death half an hour ago after answering a mysterious telephone call. Lincoln, twenty-three, is tall and thin with a scar from his right ear to his chin. When last seen, he was wearing white and blue sweat shirt and dark blue jeans. Anyone see this man should contact Police Headquarters. Lincoln is known to be dangerous. In no circumstances should anyone attempt to apprehend him. We now return to Pete Jackson and his Music, playing for you from the Florida Club.’

The driver snapped off his radio.?‘Cops!’ he sneered. ‘They live to make trouble.’

Moe slid his knife from its sheath. His heart was hammering. How had the police got on to him so fast? Had someone seen him? He stared intently at the back of the driver’s head. He had seen the man stiffen. He was sure he had ecognized him from the radio description. So what would he do now?

The driver said scornfully, ‘Toey Marsh … well out of the way! He got me into trouble last month. The guy who slit him did a public service.’

Moe relaxed a little.?‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I knew him too.’?‘You want to change your mind about where you want to go?’ the driver asked without looking around. ‘I could run you out of town … to Key West. You might fancy getting on a boat. Key West is good for boats.’

Moe put his knife away.?‘No … drop me off here, pal,’ he said. ‘This will do fine.’

The driver swung to the kerb and Moe paused to look up and dawn the long road before getting out. He shoved a ten dollar bill at the driver who still didn’t look at him, then he walked fast to the nearest alley and disappeared into the darkness.

The driver wiped sweat from his face, then engaging gear, he sent the cab shooting down the road. It took him three minutes to find a patrol officer. Pulling up, he reported where he had dropped Moe.

You sure it was Lincoln?’ the cop demanded.?‘I know Lincoln,’ the driver said, his eyes glittering. ‘He cut my father once. Man I thought he was going to cut me but I played it smart.’

The cop climbed into the cab.?‘Get me to a telephone.’