AN AVON MYSTERY /451288/ 500

a.o-!Sr
-»*'
t. »** Jo

»»«** .. •«»»*«

o»jsr5>-
''AN ENTHRALLING NOVEL OF
BRILLIANT SUSPENSE"
New York Morning Telegram

"A REALISTIC SHOCKER • . i,

FULL OF SURPRISES."
Buffalo Evening News

"A SMASHEROO FINISH."

Saturday Review

"AN ACTION-PACKED FINALE."

Virginia Kirkus
 DEATH
AND
CIRCUMSTANCE
Waugh

AN AVON BOOK
All of the characters in this hoo\ are fictitious, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.

AVON BOOKS
A division of
The Hearst Corporation
959 Eighth Avenue
New York, New York 10019

Copyright ©
1963 by Hillary Waugh.
Published by arrangement with Doubleday & Company, Inc.
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 63:12312.
All rights reserved.

First Avon Printing, May, 1966

Cover illustration by Ronnie Lesser

Printed in the U.S.A.

 Prologue

Stockford Weekly Bulletin

Wednesday, May 29, 1963

KIDNAP VICTIM FOUND DEAD

Susan Partridge, nineteen-year-old daughter of Mr. and
Mrs. Kenneth R. Partridge of Cobbler's Lane, who was
kidnapped on her way home from college Monday, was
found dead in a cave south of Pittsfield yesterday after-
noon by two twelve-year-old boys, John Hopson and Billy
Gale, who use the cave as a secret meeting place. The dis-
covery of her body was made only a short time after a ran-
som note demanding $100,000 for her return was received
by the family. The body, which had apparently been
soaked in gasoline and then burned in an attempt to de-
stroy it, was identified by Mr. Partridge who collapsed and
was treated for shock at the scene.
One clue in the hunt for the kidnap murderers is a ring
the dead girl was wearing which, according to Chief of
Police Fred C. Fellows, was stolen two months ago from
Mr. and Mrs. Roger Knowles of 54 Crestwood Drive.
Partridge, in an earlier interview with Fellows, had said
Susan told him it was given to her by a boy she refused to
identify. Police opinion is that he might have been a decoy
used to lure her into the kidnapping trap.
The kidnapping occurred Monday afternoon between
4:00 and 4:30 p.m. on a lonely stretch of High Ridge
Road along which Susan had to pass on her way home
from classes at the exclusive Pittsfield College for Women.
Her empty convertible was found half off the road by Mr.
and Mrs. Edward Cass, also of Cobbler's Lane, at quarter
of five. The keys were in it but there was no trace of Susan
so Mr. Cass drove the car to the Partridge home. When
Mr. Partridge got in at half past six and learned Susan
had not arrived, he feared she'd been kidnapped and
phoned police.
A search of the area, a police dragnet, and an eight-state
alarm failed to produce any clues Monday night and the
first indication of Susan's fate was only learned early yes-
terday afternoon when police heard about the ransom
note. The note, demanding that $100,000 in small bills
be ready by noon tomorrow, warned against calling police
into the case but the order stopping police activity was
scarcely out when the accidental discovery of her body
was made.
Preliminary examination of the body at the cave failed
to reveal the cause of death though it's thought the girl
was probably slain shortly after being seized. Police do not
rule out the possibility, however, that she was burned
alive.
 PARTI

Allie Wells
 Saturday J April 6^ ^963

When the long freight slowed its way through

and picked
the Pittsfield Connecticut yards, Wells jumped to
Allie
the cinders beside the track. The momentum threw him
and, as he fell, the only thought in his mind was to roll
away from the rails. There'd been a man in prison with
him back in Indiana who'd lost a leg under the wheels of
a freight.
The cinders scraped his hands and scratched his body
through the ill-fitting suit and he came to a hard stop
against the steel stand of a small yellow signal light, but
he was clear of the train, bruised but not injured. He lay
there for a moment, getting his breath and watching the
looming cars thunder by in the darkness. Then he stirred,
lifted his head and looked around. "Tony," he called
softly."Hey, Tony."
There was an answering string of muttered oaths nearby
and Allie got to his knees. A figure was crouched twenty
yards away, his head darting as he inventoried his sur-
roundings. Allied ducked over and got down beside him.
"You O.K., Tony?"
"Coat," Tony said, swearing. "It caught on something.
The sleeve's torn."
"I damn near broke my back against that signal light."
"This suit never fit anyway. Of all the frigging ones you
had to lift!"
"Jesus, Tony, it was dark in the dry-cleaning place. I
couldn't tell size too good."
"You did all right for yourself, I notice."
"Mine don't good either. It's no better'n yours."
fit

Tony, his back to the rumbling cars, scanned the yard

with animal wariness. He could see no one. "Keep low and
9
 " —

follow me," he ordered. "See those cars there? We're going

over behind 'em."
Allie said, "O.K.," and edged a little farther from the
rolling train at his back. Its breeze was like a cold breath
on his neck and made him shiver. Too vivid was the one-
legged man in the penitentiary.
Tony ducked ahead, loping crablike across the empty
tracks towards the silent string of freight cars fifty yards
away. Allie followed close on his heels and he was panting
when they reached the cover. Tension had exhausted him
more than the run but he would never have admitted it
to Tony.
"See anybody?" Tony asked.
"Nobody."
"O.K. Now we gotta figure how to get outta here."
"Where is place? I thought we were going to ride
this
through to Boston."
"I changed my mind," Tony said abruptly. He flattened
out on his belly and looked under the cars. Allie followed
suit, stretching out on the chilled, damp ground. The ca-
boose of their freight went by and its passing exposed the
passenger platforms and, behind them, the large brick sta-
tion a hundred and fifty yards away.
Allie dismissed the platforms as too well lighted and
looked elsewhere for a way out. The tracks were in a cut,
however, and all he could see back the way the train had
come were bridges and sheer walls. They might have to
walk the rails for miles to find an escape. "It don't look too
good, Tony," he said. "We're kindda boxed."
"You think I don't know what it looks like?" Tony said.
"Let me do the planning. See the end of the nearest plat-
form? It's dark enough there. We'll go for that and then
out through the station."
Allie was startled. "Do you think with our clothes
some cop —
—
"Nuts to that. Nobody notices nothing not half as
much as you think. They're looking for us out in Indiana.
They ain't looking for us here. Straighten your clothes and
brush 'em off and then we're gonna walk to the platform.
Don't run. Don't do nothing. Wait till that guy off there
with the lantern goes away and then do like I do."
They clambered to their feet and Allie tried to make
himself appear presentable. Working at that and trying to
10
think what a presentable person might look like kept his
mind off his fear. Tony had the poise, Allie thought. Tony
was, after all, twenty-five and had been dodging cops
since he was fifteen. Tony knew the ropes, both inside and
outside of jails. Tony was the picture of confidence, stand-
ing there peering after the man with the lantern, straight-
ening his own clothes, trying to adjust the sleeve to hide
the tear. "All you gotta do," Tony had once told Allie, "is
act like you own the world and nobody'll bother you.
Look scared when you pass a cop and he'll know you got
something to hide."
"O.K.," Tony muttered out of the side of his mouth.
"Let's walk." He started off around the end of the freight
car and picked his way over the tracks towards the distant
platform. Allie fell in step and kept pace, lagging only
sHghtly behind, as a follower should when with the leader.
"Stop looking around," Tony snarled, glancing back for
a check. "Act Uke you belong here."
Allie obeyed but it made him feel as if the police were
breathing down his back and that a blue-sleeved arm
would seize him from behind at any moment. Were he not
with Tony he would have run. Tony, however, was his
hero and he could not show the white feather. Tony's
good opinion was all he had in the world and he would
die, if necessary, to keep it.

They mounted the end of the long concrete platform

and it was as if they'd reached goal. The stretch of it was
empty except for loading carts, but at least it was a place
where people belonged. Two hundred feet ahead a door-
way to the underground ramp was lighted by an "EXIT"
sign and the two youths advanced towards it. Tony walked
neither rapidly nor slowly but with purpose, but Allie still

had to fight the urge to run. They were under the platform
lights now and anyone could see them.
Now a new fear pressed down on Allie. Suppose an at-
tendant asked where they'd come from? No passenger
trains had arrived for them to have been on. "Tony," he
muttered. "Shouldn't we wait?"
"Wait for what? We're getting outta here."
Allie swallowed. He felt as conspicuous as a black cat
in the snow.
They reached the door without interruption, however,
went down the flightof steps and turned onto the under-
11
ground passage. Ahead was a climbing ramp to a row of
doors that opened into the night, and halfway up was a
turnoflf to the station waiting room. As they started for-
ward, three people from the station appeared, came down
the ramp and ascended the first pair of stairs to another
platform. Tony walked without slowing his pace and Allie
made the effort to match his nonchalance but his heart
was pounding.
Then, from another staircase, a uniformed stationman
appeared. Allie tensed and almost stopped. He forced him-
self forward as the man started to change departure signs
but he was sure the fear in his face was apparent. He kept
on, his eyes staring blindly at the swinging doors ahead,
but Tony suddenly changed pace. He slowed almost in-
dolently and then stopped beside the stationman who was
hooking a metal sign in place. "Is there a phone in the sta-
tion?" he asked boldly.
Allie went a couple of paces past and then lingered, try-
ing not to be noticed. He wasn't. The man jerked his head
at Tony. "Head of the ramp. Right in front of your eyes,
son."
"Thanks." Tony said it just right, without subservience,
but without condescension. He said it, Allie thought, just
as a normal person would.
"Up here," Tony told him, nudging Allie on again and
he led the way towards the three booths, close inside the
doors, with determined strides.
"You ain't really gonna call someone?" Allie whispered.
"The hell I ain't!" He went to the table where a phone
book with a chained cover rested and started thumbing
through the pages.
"Let's get outta here," Allie whispered urgently. "Don't
push our luck."
"I gotta make a call," Tony said deliberately.
"You know somebody in this town?"
"I will."
"We can call from somewhere else."
"What's the matter? You chicken? They're looking for
us out in Indiana, I tell ya." He found the page and ran
his finger down the column of names and stopped. He mut-
tered the number twice, fumbled in a pocket of his over-
large jacket for a dime, and stepped into the booth, clos-
ing the door.
12
 Allie shifted his feet outside. He was conscious of his
soiled clothes, of his matted hair and the need for a shave.
His shoes were dusty convict's boots that laced above the
ankle and all he had under his jacket was a soiled T-shirt.
To Allie, "escaped con" was written on him for everyone
to see. Tony, inside the booth, was protected but Allie
was exposed and alone.
He moved to the phone book and bent over the names
with the ostrich hope that if he saw no one, no one would
see him. The colunm started with the Y's and went on to
the Z's but the names meant nothing.
The booth door opened and Tony came out. "No an-
swer," he growled and bent over the book again. "Twenty
Melville Street," he said. "All right, let's go."
At last they pushed through the doors and now they
were in the cool but friendly darkness of the night where
the growth of beard and the tousled hair and the dirty
clothes were inconspicuous. For the first time since they'd
jumped from the freight Allie didn't taste his fear. He in-
haled the moist night air as were something new and
if it
strange and delicious and he was calm once more. "Who's
at twenty Melville Street?" he asked. "Whattaya got in
mind, Tony?"
Tony, for once, was communicative. "Lx)ok, boy," he
said. "We can't just run forever, right?"
"Yeah."
"We're low on dough. What you picked out of the regis-
ter in that dry-cleaning place wouldn't last a bum a week
in a breadline. We gotta do something about that."
"Yeah, but I thought we were going to Boston."
"So did I till I saw that Tittsfield' sign. That reminded
me. You remember Charlie Zeuss?"
"No."
"Maybe he got transferred before you come in. Charlie
was a real operator. He'n me had the same cell when I
first went in and we worked up the escape. Then he got
switched to San Quentin and that left him outta it but be-
fore that, when we were bunking together and planning
this break, he told me he had a sister in Pittsfield, Con-
necticut. He was figuring on getting to her when he broke
out. I forgot till I saw the sign."
"You mean you wantta see the sister?"
"I mean we can't go around in these clothes, for Christ's
13
sake. We gotta get something decent to wear and we gotta
get a stake."
"But she don't know you.'*
"No, but I know Charhe. She'll do it for a pal of Char-
lie's."
"Jesus, Tony, I wouldn't trust her. She might blow the
whisde on us."
Tony gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs. "Whattaya
think, I'm dumb or something? She ain't gonna call no
cops. She's got a record nearly as long as Charlie's herself."
Allie bit his Hp. The fear was creeping back. "But she
ain't home," he said hopefully.
"That's right. She ain't. So we're gonna sit on her door-
step till she comes home."

Saturday Night

They went back through the station waiting room to the

lavatory at the far end and Tony produced the razor he'd
bought with some of the dry-cleaning shop money their
first night out. "Gotta make ourselves pretty for the ladies,"

he said wolfishly, but Allie shared neither his confidence

nor his grin. Smooth faces would make them look less hke
vagrants but he felt uneasy under lights. He felt still more
uneasy at the prospect of approaching this strange girl. It
was the hunted's instinctive fear of traps, but he couldn't
let Tony know.
There was no soap in the dispensers and the shaving had
to be done with nothing but water. The blade was still
sharp, though, after Tony was through and Allie was able
to scrape the fine stubble from his own face successfully.
Then, when Tony had smoothed and threaded it
his hair
just right with his comb had the proper wave,
so that it

Allie wet his own mop and got some semblance of order
out of it. They were alone in the large room and Tony
preened himself before the mirror. "Not so bad," he said
to his reflection. "Only these stinking clothes you got."
Allie couldn't lose himself in the moment that success-
fully. "You know where Melville Street is?" he asked.
"HeU, no. But we'll find out."

14
 "How?"
"We'll try the station agent first." He saw Allie's instinc-
tive quiver through the glass and added with a sneer, "If
he don't know, we can always ask a cop I"
"You wouldn'tl"
Tony snorted the felon's disgust of the police. "Why
not?" Then he went out.
The station agent behind the information counter knew
nothing about Melville Street but Tony had charm when
he chose to use it and the agent tried to help. "News
counter in the hotel right over there sells city maps. Other-
wise, ask a cabby or a cop."
"Yeah, thanks. Thanks for the info." Tony led the way
outside. "Cabby," he said. "Frig him. We
ain't got more'n
two singles and some change."
"Maybe we could find a shop that wouldn't be hard to
break into," Allie suggested. He wasn't eager to run the
risk but he felt responsible for their low state of finances.
Burglary was his specialty, the field where Tony, who was
an armed robber, couldn't touch him. It was his area of
esteem, the thing that earned him Tony's respect, and he
felt he had let Tony down when his haul at the dry-clean-
ing establishment had netted only a pittance.
Tony, to his relief, wasn't interested. "Nah," he said.
"All we got to do is get to this dame's house. We'll get a
street map. It'll come maybe."
in handy,
The hotel was looming above an inter-
close at hand,
vening gas station on a triangle of road intersection. It
was, fortunately, not the best hotel in town and the two
youths were not conspicuous when they entered its lobby
and headed for the news counter off one side. Allie tried
to walk as boldly as his companion but he almost turned
and fled when he got his first look at the counter. A po-
liceman was there, leaning over the glass in close conver-
sation with the pert girl who ran it.

As for Tony, he was ever the master and his step never
lagged. He approached casually and halted a pace back
from the counter, waiting until the girl paused. The police-
man looked around. He was stocky and vigorous but his
eyes, though calculating, bespoke no great intelligence.
Tony ignored him, watching the girl. "Do you have a
street map of Pittsfield?" he asked with the right shade of
meekness at his interruption.
15
 The girl plucked one from the stand beside her. "Fifty
cents plus tax. Fifty-two cents."
Tony gave her a dollar from his pocket, accepted the
change and said, "Thank you." When he turned away the
policeman was already back in conversation with the girl.
In half a minute both would have forgotten he'd ever been
there.
With a boldness seemed reckless to Allie, Tony took
that
the map and opened it on a ra-
to a corner of the lobby
diator ledge by a window. He thumbed through the pages
for the key, then located the spot with his finger. "It's a
hell of a ways away from here," he muttered. "It's prob-
ably a bus ride into the center and transfer out Purvey
Street." He refolded the map and tucked it into his inside
jacket pocket. "I've got it now. Let's go."
Allie cast a final look back at the policeman at the news-
stand but Tony ignored the man entirely.
They caught a bus at the railroad station and rode it
nearly a mile into the center of town, which was laid out
around a large green. The Purvey Street bus was picked
up at the far comer and it was another twenty-minute
ride out through a run-down, shabby section to Melville
Street. Dingy fruit and grocery stores lined the way, broken
at one point by a housing project, and the bars were
plentiful. The one on the corner of MelvUle was called
Pat's and had a green neon shamrock on its projecting sign.
When they got off, Allie had a nostalgic pang. The neigh-
borhood was strikingly like the one he knew in the days
when he had a home. Even the smells of baking bread and
stale beer, of garlic and overripe fruit were familiar echoes
of the past. He knew without being told that the cops on
the beats here would be fat and lazy. They'd filch fruit
from helpless vendors and look into bakeshops for free
buns. They'd ogle the girls but they'd be too old and too
obese to do more. They'd sweat and they'd smell in the
summer and they'd curse the heat. In the winter they'd
curse the cold and hang out in the bars, having a quick
one on the house when no one else was around. The bar
latrines would be their site for a quick smoke and a warm
place to hide until the need to reach the next checkpoint
drove them out again. There'd be extra money for them
from the whores and sometimes from a recognized cus-
tomer, and there might be another buck or two from the
16
wiser kids for protection in their petty thefts. Allie knew
it all by He'd grown up in it.
heart.
The houses on Melville Street were two- and three-
family dwellings that sometimes housed four or five. There
was room in front for a patch of dirt and grass, and be-
tween for a walk to the rear with here and there a drive-
way. The streetlights were far apart and the cars along the
curbs left barely room for two to pass in the middle. The
beginning buds on the trees along the sidewalk promised to
make the street even darker in summer but, though some
might find it ominous, Allie felt protected and relaxed. He
was less afraid of the girl now and sure no evil would be-
fall him here.
Number twenty was halfway down the block, a double-
porched three-story house with two front doors. They
mounted the steps to peer at the number and Tony struck
a match to read the name-tags but the plates under the
three bells were vacant. He swore, made a trip back to the
sidewalk to look up at the house and returned again.
"Lights on the second floor," he said. "Black on the first
and third." He peered through the dark living-room window
of the first floor and came back again. "Son of a bitch," he
growled. "All right, let's see who's up." He found the sec-
ond-floor bell and pressed it insistently.
There was a dim light in the stairwell back of the right-
hand door but no shadow fell on the mesh curtain behind
the glass. He rang again and there followed the sound of
a door, then heavy feet on the porch overhead. A harsh
woman's voice said, "Whaddaya want?"
Tony went back down the steps and looked up. "Zeuss,"
he said.
"That's upstairs. Why'nt ya look where you're ringing?"
"There're no lights up there."
"Then she ain't home."
"Know when she'U be back?"
"Whaddaya think I am, Information Please?" The door
slammed and silence fell.

"I'd like to give it to her where she needs it most,"

Tony growled, stalking back onto the porch. He pressed
the third floor buzzer three times without response. "What
time is it?"
"I don't have a watch, Tony."
17
 "Sonuvabitch. It must be midnight. Where's that frigging
dame?"
AlHe didn't speak. He wasTony might decide to
afraid
leave and he felt comfortable. He
could almost imagine he
wasn't an escaped con. The security of being inside a house
seemed close and he dreaded the thought of hopping an-
other freight.
Tony had no intention of leaving, however. He paced
the porch and periodically went down to the sidewalk to
look up and down the street. As the time passed, his im-
patience grew and Allie tried to soothe him. "Maybe she
works nights," he suggested.
"In a whorehouse," Tony snarled. "She's probably
shacked up with some two-bit bastard this minute while we
wait.You got any smokes?"
"No. Of course not."
"Yeah. You ain't got the habit. I don't know how you
got into jail, a sissy like you.'*
Allie bit his lip. If Tony turned against him he didn't
know what he'd do.
Tony flung a broken twig he found on the porch rail
into the darkness and muttered more oaths. Then he put
out a restraining hand and said, "Hold it."
Headlights were coming down the street with that slow
crawl only police cars use. Tony pushed Allie well back
into the dark of the porch, away from the lighted door-
way, and pressed him there with his own body.
It was a police car all right. The dome light and the
green and white markings were visible as it crept by the
house towards the next streetlight. Then it was peacefully
out of the way and Allie breathed again.
Tony muttered, "Damn, I wish I had a watch so I could
time their rounds." He was getting bad again in his im-
patience.
Allie said, "Jesus,Tony, you sure are smart. You spot-
tedhim way up the block."
"Instinct," Tony snarled. "You develop a nose for those
bastards. You can smell 'em a mile away."
They waited some more and the scattering of lights in
other houses was gone. The whole street was asleep except
for the sound of an argument in the distance.
Another car came down from Purvey. It was a shiny,
cream-colored hardtop and pulled in to the curb at the
18
firstvacant spot past the house. "If that's her," Tony said
hopefully, "she's in the chips." He moved to the dark sec-
tion of the porch and stood at the rail.
A man got out of the car and went around to open the
other door. He was plump and wore a light gray coat. He
helped out a girl in a brown coat and yellow dress and she
was lean and younger. She said something and laughed
and the laugh was deep.
They came to the walk and Tony moved forward as
they started up the steps. "Hello, Zeuss," he said.
The couple stopped and peered up at the shadowy figure
and they didn't see Allie who remained well behind. The
girl was brown-haired and dark-skinned. Her face was lean
and her eyes hard. There were lines down her cheeks but
they weren't from smiling and her brows creased her fore-
head. "Who the hell are you?" she snapped.
"A friend of Charlie's," Tony purred. "Him and me were
together till he got transferred."
"What the hell do you want?"
"I got a message from him." Tony's voice was mocking.
"Who's your friend?"
Allie stepped a little closer and the movement caught
the girl's eye. The man saw it too and didn't like it. He
said uneasily, "Are they friends of yours?"
"They know my brother out West."
"Yeah," Tony said. "Charlie and me're great pals.
What's your name, bud?"
The man said to the girl, "Listen, maybe you got busi-
ness."
The girl said, "Yeah," flatly. She was still trying to make
out Tony against the light.
"You got it right, bud," Tony told him. "Business."
The man backed down a step. "I'll see you later. O.K.,
Lorraine?"
"Yeah," she said again. He retreated and she didn't
watch him go. She came up the rest of the way onto the
porch and leaned against the rail. When the door of the
car slammed and the motor started, she said to Tony,
"You're real cute aren't you?"
He laughed. "Who's the cluck? Somebody you picked up
in a bar?"
She called Tony a name and said, "All right, you're
here. What do you want?"
19
 "We want to talk to you."
"You said you had a message from Charlie. What is it?"
"He sends you his love."
"Can the crap." She opened her purse and started hunt-
ing for a key.
"You ain't awful glad to see us, Lorraine. That's no way
to be."
"Blow!" she said abruptly, jingling the key and snap-
ping her purse shut.
"We come a long way, Lx>rraine. All the way from In-
diana. Just to see you."
"So you've seen me."
"But we want to talk to you, Lorraine. We got things to
say."
She played with the key, still leaning against the rail.
"So talk."
Tony spread his hands. "I don't mean here on a porch,
Lorraine.I mean inside. Up in your place."
She snorted and said, "That's out so forget it."
"Now, Lorraine, that's no way to treat your brother's
best pals."
She straightened and her voice was scathing. "Why you
punk. My brother wouldn't be caught dead with scum like
you. And who's your friend hanging back there? What's
he afraid of, his shadow?"
The mocking gallantry left Tony's voice and a harsh
note crept in. "I ain't no punk, sister, and Charlie and me
was buddies. We had plans, him and me, only they didn't
let him stay long enough. So it's Allie and me now instead
of Charlie and Allie and me."
"Big deal. And who are you supposed to be?"
"Tony DeGennaro. That's who."
"Big pal of Charlie's, huh? How come he never men-
tioned your name in his letters? Now blow or I'll call a
cop."
Tony's voice got mocking again. "Sure you will," he said.
VYou love cops. You love 'em so much you've spent a lotta
time with 'em, ain't ya? In fact, you love 'em so much
you go see the parole officer every week, don't ya?"
"I don't have to hide from them. Big Shot, like you
and your shadow. Hey, you," she said, looking into the
gloom. "Come out into the light. Let's see what you look
like, or are you too scared?"

20
 " " " " " "

Allie obeyed and moved quietly forward beside Tony

where the dim light from the inside stairs revealed his face.
Lorraine looked him over approvingly. "Yeah," she said.
"You're a cute kid. You oughtn't to hide those looks.
What's your name? 'Allie'?"
"That's right."
" 'Allie' what?"
"Allie Wells."
"How old are you, Allie?"
"Twenty-two."
"What were you in for?"
Tony said, "Can it. Now look, Lorraine
—
"I'm talking to the kid," Lorraine told him. "So you were
in the can with Charlie, huh? Whyn't you tell them you
were sixteen, kid? They'd have stuck you in reform school."
"I wasn't with Char
—
"Shut up," Tony snapped. "I'm doing the talking —
"I'd rather hear the kid," Lorraine interrupted. "So you
two come all the way from Indiana, huh? Just to see me,
huh?"
Allie started to say, "Well, we were going — " but Tony
broke "That's right," he said. "Charlie told us you
in.
were a real princess. The last thing he said to me when he
got transferred was that if we got out and were ever in
trouble
—
Lorraine snorted. "Save it," she said. "I stopped falling
for lines like that when I was half your age." She gave her
attention to Allie again. "So you been working your way
east from Indiana, huh? You got any dough?"
"No."
"And you thought good old Lorraine would stake you,
huh?"
Allie wet his lips. "Well, Tony —
Tony said, "I you might want to know about
figured
thought we might stop off and say hello and teU
you —
Charlie. I

"You think maybe Charlie don't know how to write,

huh? You make me laugh. You're starving to death, ain't
that right?"
"Naw," said Tony.
She turned to Allie. "When'd you eat last?"
Allie swallowed. "I don't remember. We got some dough-
nuts yesterday."
21
 "

"And you hope I can feed ya, right?"

"Well we thought—"
"Not you, kid. Let the Big Shot tell me."
Tony said sarcastically, "You really think you're some-
thing, don't you, Lorraine?"
She turned on him. "You broke out, didn't you? And
you come here hoping I won't spill it to the cops
—
"We know you won't. You ain't that dumb."
"Real toughl" She snorted again. "Spill it, Big Shot. Are
you here for a handout or to tell me how Charlie got
transferred to San Quentin?"
Tony glared at her for a couple of moments. Finally he
said, "You got something to eat?"
"Yeah, Big Shot. I got something to eat. So you act real
polite and maybe you can have some." She turned and fit-
ted the key in the door.

Late Saturday 'Night

The third floor flat was a furnished apartment consisting

of living room, bedroom, kitchen and bath. The furnish-
ings were modest but clean and, though much used, serv-
iceable. Lorraine, who had distinctly thawed, went to the
kitchen and Tony, after a quick look around the living
room, punched Allie on the arm. "Good going, kid," he
said, sotto voce. "You got her eating outta your hand
like a frigging canary."
Allie that he'd made good in some way with
was pleased
Tony but he uncomfortable about the girl. "It's you,"
felt
he said lamely. "I'm nothing." He went to take a chair
but Tony pushed him away. "The couch, Dummy. Sit on
the couch."
Lorraine came back, finally, with a plate of sandwiches
and some beer. Tony, slumped in a seat, said, "This is
something like," and bit into the bread and ham with rel-
ish. "You sure can cook, Lorraine. Charlie told me you
could cook."
She ignored him, passing Allie a sandwich and setting
the plate on the floor at the youth's feet. She gave him a
22
can of beer and sat beside him on the couch. "So you
broke out," she said. "When?"
"Tuesday night," Tony answered, munching. "It was
Charlie had the idea how to do it —
through the ventilation
shaft in the shower room — but he got took away too soon.
Allie and me and two others followed it through. The
others, they got caught. They wasn't as good at hiding as
Allie and me."
She said to Allie, "So you and Tony didn't get picked up,
huh?"
Allie flushed. "I just did what Tony told me to."
"G'wan," Tony said. "You're the one copped the clothes
outta that dry-cleaning store. Allie was pretty good. He
pulled that all by himself. All I did was stand watch."
"It was a pushover," Allie said. "A kid couldda done it.
But there was hardly nothing in the cash drawer. No
more'n six bucks."
"Which you gave to Tony, I'll bet," Lorraine said.
"He keeps the money. He's good with money."
"Yeah."
"It's the two of us, right down the line," Tony said.
"Right, Allie?"
Allie nodded. He liked the sound of that.
Lorraine finally turned to Tony. "So you're a big pal of
Charlie's, huh, Big Shot? What were you in for?"
"Armed robbery, assault with a deadly weapon." Tony
sneered. "The creep had it coming. With a gun in his face
he hollers cop. I shouldda put a bullet through his fat
head insteadda through his gut. He didn't deserve to live."
She turned. "What were you in for, Allie?"
He squirmed a little at her nearness, at being called by
name. "I was doing six months for burglary."
"Six months?" She rocked back laughing and slapped her
thighs. "Why you poor dumb cluck. Six months and you'd
be out in three on good behavior. So, instead of waiting,
you let Big Shot Tony talk you into making an escape.
God, how dumb can you get?"
Allie flushed and bent for another sandwich. He couldn't
tell Lorraine about Tony, about the big man Tony really

was back in that jail. He couldn't tell about the hell Tough
Tony gave those guards and how he was admired by all
the other cons. And when Allie was new in the prison and
bunked in with Tony and the other two men, Tony was
23
 —

the ringleader who made his life miserable, bullying,

threatening, beating, and scoffing. That, as AJlie rational-
ized it was Tony's way of testing him; and when
later,
Allie didn't whimper or complain, Tony's manner towards
him changed. Of course Allie had been afraid to whimper
but Tony didn't know that. He thought it was guts and he
let Allie into the inner circle. He did more than that. He
became Allie's friend and when you have a friend for the
first time in your life, you don't let that friend down. All
of that he couldn't tell Lorraine, nor could he tell her that

life as an escaped convict with Tony was infinitely to be

preferred over life on parole all by himself. Life trying to
live up to Tony's opinion of him was better than having
nothing to live for. What would he do without Tony
burgle other stores and do time in other pens, pens where
there would be no Tony to befriend him?
"Don't call Allie dumb," Tony said, swigging his beer.
"Him and me are going places. Big places."
Lorraine snorted. "Him doing the stealing while you
stand watch where you can get away fast?"
"Don't talk like that about Tony," Allie said, flarmg.
"Don't never say things like that."
"O.K., don't get sore," Lorraine said, backing off quickly.
"O.K. He's your pal. Big deal."
Tony said, "Don't mind the kid, Lorraine. He's aces.
You gotta admit that now, right?"
"Let's hope you keep on thinking so, Big Shot."
Tony tossed his empty beer can on the floor. He said,
"It's him and me. Right, Allie?" and Allie grinned.
Lorraine went out to the kitchen for another beer for
Tony and he leaped to Allie the moment she was gone.
"What'reya trying to do?" he said, threatening a back-
hand of Allie's face and switching it to a jolt in the ribs.
"Play up to the dame. Ya want her to throw us out?"
He grabbed Allie inside his jacket and squeezed his breast
hard. "Make a play for her, for Christ's sake. That's what
she's waiting for, you ninny. Don't get her sore!"
"She was calling you names."
"Who gives a God damn what she calls me, for Christ's
sake? We got no dough. Where do you want to be, on the
street?"
Tony stalked back to his chair and Allie looked to the
doorway in dread. He was beginning to perspire.
24
 " "

Lorraine returned, handing Tony another beer, and re-

sumed her seat, close up to Allie. "So," she said to him.
"What're your plans, or do I have to ask the Big Shot?"
Allie looked pleadingly at Tony for help but all he got
were urgent signals to take over. "We need a place to stay,"
he blurted out.
"Yeah," she said. "It figures. You ain't looking up
Charlie's sister for no messages, regardless of what the Big
Shot says. You're looking for a handout. At least you got
enough brains not to try the 'message' line. Big Shot here's
so dumb he thinks I was bom yesterday."
Allie even forgot to take offense at the slur on Tony.
All he knew was that Tony expected him to make some
kind of a move and he didn't know what. Was he supposed
to grab her the way Tony had grabbed him? He went on,
hardly knowing what he said. "Well, we were on this train
and we got to Pittsfield
—
"And friend Tony said, *Let's go see Lorraine Zeuss on
accountta we ain't got no dough. Maybe she can feed us
and put us up.' Right?"
AUie wet his lips. "Something like that."
She snorted and turned to Tony. "What do you think I
run, a guesthouse?"
Tony looked properly contrite. "Just till we get our feet
on the groimd. We need
a day or two."
"Yeah," she said. "Well I got one double bed in the bed-
room. What do you think I'm gonna do, move to a hotel?"
Tony gestured from his at-ease position. "The couch
would do me fine. I could sleep like a rock on it. I could
sleep like a rock on a park bench —
if there weren't no
cops in the park!" He laughed at his joke. "Christ, you
—
should have seen the places we tried to sleep ^under that
boxcar on the rods. Christ!"
"And you expect the kid to bunk in with me, is that it?"
Tony waved again. "Well, hell, there's the floor —
"The kid ain't gonna sleep on no floor."
Allie said quickly, "I wouldn't mind
—
" but Tony cut
him off. "That's what I figured, Lorraine. You wouldn't
want him on no floor."
"Let the kid talk," she said testily. She turned on Allie.
"Well, what about it, kid? You gonna say something for
yourself for once?"
The perspiration stood out on his face. Through the
25
cx)raer of his eye he saw Tony signaling but even without
the signal he knew he stood at a crossroads. Say the wrong
thing now and they'd be out on the street with Tony
cursing him and perhaps even leaving him. He tried to
sound as if he meant it. "A bed," he said, "would be fine."
Lorraine looked him over. "Well, the kid finally comes
through. What d'ya know. He's got a mind of his own at
last."
They had more beer and Lorraine made more sand-
wiches but Allie was only aware that he wanted to get
himself tight and couldn't. Tony and Lorraine were both
relaxed but he was wound so taut it was hard to breathe.
He was aware of speaking when spoken to. He was aware
of the sweat dripping down his back. But mostly he was
aware that sometime soon they were all going to stand up
and he'd have to go into the bedroom with Lorraine.
It wasn't till half-past two that the moment finally ar-
rived but at last it was at hand. A blanket was given to
Tony and he made the proper assurances that everything
was great. Allie found himself watching Lorraine and
wondering what it would be like to kiss her, as he would
surely have to. She was muscular and masculine in manner,
lean of build and sinewy. Her face wasn't repulsive but
there was nothing of the feminine in it, either in structure
or look. Her eyes were clear, green, and cold, her hair
properly combed but coarse and little tended. She wore no
fragrance. Her figure wasn't bad but the yellow dress
bulged very little in the usual feminine places. She could,
Allie thought, almost be another man.
Ajerk of the head by Tony was his cue and Allie found
himself trailing Lorraine into the bedroom. The double
bed was carelessly made and the man's dresser, with only
a comb and brush on it, again detracted from the feminin-
ity of the girl. The only woman's touch were curtains on
the window and these had obviously come with the place.
Lorraine turned her back to Allie and said, "Unbutton
me. Handsome." He did so obediently, uncovering a
smooth brown back and clean white bra strap. She wore
no slip.
She dropped the yellow dress to the floor, stooped and
tossed it onto the bed. She kicked off her shoes and came
close. "Kiss me. Big Boy."
He did as he was bid and found the kiss not as distaste-
26
ful as he'd expected. When she was close and wearing so
littleshe definitely had appeal.
She worked his mouth over with hers and he put his
arms around her waist but didn't clutch. She felt him and
said, "Jesus, you're as limp as a wet dishrag." Then she
stepped back out of his arms and stared at him with her
hands on her hips. "Say, have you ever been with a woman
before?"
Allie bit his lip and felt hopelessly inept. He could feel
his face flushing. "I been bumming around the last five
— six years," he said lamely. "I just didn't get to meet
women."
He expected rage. He expected that he and Tony would
be put out on the street. Instead, the girl laughed. "By
Christ! I never thought I'd meet up with a virgin!" She
stepped close and caressed his cheek. "What a deal. I can
train you just the way I want. Baby doll," she said, and
there was a maternal tenderness in her tone, "you and me
are gonna have a ball. I'm gonna make you a real pro.
I'm gonna teach you good. Don't be scared, Honey. Just
relax and do what I tell you and we'll have a time."

Sunday, April y

When Alliewoke, the sun was overhead and glaring out-

side the windows. He came out of slumber slowly, savoring
the sense of rest, the softness of the bed, the clean feel of
the sheet, and the peace that lay so comfortably upon him.
He had forgotten what sheets felt like, how drugging a
sleep could be.
It was only after this that he thought of the girl. He
smiled and turned to look at her. She was lying on her
back beside him, her lips slightly parted, her face in repose.
It was not a bad face, he thought, for all its hardness.
Sleep softened the lines and left it vulnerable and more
feminine. He pushed the sheet down boldly, exposing her
breast,and he lay there studying that, memorizing its tex-
ture,shape and details. It was larger and better formed
than he had anticipated and it was the softest part about
her.

27
 He felt the stirrings and moved his body
of desire
against hers, then raised himself on an elbow to take her
face in his hand and kiss her. She snuggled instantly, as if
she'd been waiting for him. "You learn fast, Handsome,"
she whispered. "You're quite a guy."
Tony was prowling the living room when Allie and Lor-
raine finally came out. "Jesus Christ," he said irritably,
"I thought you were dead in there. Whaddaya think I'm
supposed to do, sit here and stare at the walls?"
Allie's glow faded into feelings of guilt. "Jesus, Tony,
I'm sorry."
"You oughtta be. A nice soft bed while I lay on this
lump of couch. I can't even stretch out my feet. And then
ya sleep till noon and spend another hour whoring around
before you get outta bed. Whaddaya think you are, on
vacation?"
Lorraine said, "The Big Shot's hungry. That's what's the
matter with him. I'll cook some breakfast."
Allie went over to Tony when she left. "Jesus," he said
softly. "You told me to make a play for her."
"And you sure did! I could hear those goddam bed-
springs creaking half the night. Whaddaya think this is,
recess? You think maybe nobody's looking for us? You
think the cops out in Indiana ain't got teletypes or some-
thing? You think maybe they forgot we got away?"
"Well, hell, nobody knows we're here."
"For how long? You don't never relax in this racket
You don't never take time off.'*

Breakfast mollified Tony somewhat and with Lorraine

and Alliearound he stopped his pacing and was content
to relax. Lorraine went out for the newspapers and they sat
around with those, hunting for stories of the escape. There
were none but it didn't make Tony happy. He did, how-
ever, talk less bitterly to Lorraine and any resentment he
might have felt at her preference of Allie was overridden
by the need for her hospitality. "That parole oflacer you
gotta go see —
^he ever come here?"

"No."
"What about the dame downstairs? She keep her nose
clean?"
"She don't know you're here."
"If we stay she'll find out."
28
 "

"If you stay? I like that. Zeuss's hotel. What do you

think I'm gonna do, take care of you?"
He grinned at her and the act was on. "I was figuring
we could take care of you."
"What two bucks you got?"
with, that
"There's more where that came from."
"With you standing guard while Allie swipes it?"
Tony, who'd been stretched on the couch, swung his feet
around and sat up. "The hell with Allie. Sneaking into
places ain't no way to do nothing. If you want real dough
—
you gotta go in when the joint's open before they put
away the cash."
"So you're gonna hold 'em up, huh? What with?"
"I figured maybe you could get me a gun."
"Think again."
"Hell, you know people, Lorraine. You got contacts."
"Not in this town I ain't. In this town I ain't nothing but
a dame who works in a laundromat five days a week for
fifty bucks. This is the job the parole board got me and
this is where they told me to live. They're reforming me
in case you didn't know it."
Tony laughed. "You look like you got a halo, Lorraine."
"Crap on that. So, Big Shot, you got other plans?"
"I know some guys in Boston. I was planning on Allie
and me throwing in with them, but we need dough to get
there."
"You ain't getting it offa me."
"We can get our own dough. All we need is to stay
here a couple of days. We gotta get some decent clothes.
These suits Allie swiped are dirty and just about worn out
and they fit us like a couple of flour sacks anyhow. We
gotta get equipped."
"Just because I let you stay last night, Buster
—
Tony raised a hand. "We'll pay you, Lorraine. Just a
couple of days, Lorraine, and you'U make yourself a fast
hundred fish."
"Yeah."
When Lorraine started to open cans for supper it was
tacitly accepted that they would stay another night. Tony
knew it before that, though, by the way she looked at
Allie.
He quizzed her over the meal in the kitchen about the
others in the house again. "There's only the dame below
29
and she minds her business, I mind mine," Lorraine told
him.
"Yeah, but when she tumbles that there're a couple of
men staying here, she might get nosy."
"Forget it."
—
"How about that guy brought you home last night? He
come around?"
"No."
"Who is he?"
"A guy I met."
"What were you gonna do, roll him?"
"In my own place? How dumb do you think I am?"
When it got dark, Tony became restless again. Lorraine
and Allie were already beginning to look at the bedroom
and his jaw tightened. "Hey, Allie," he said. "How about
you'n me casing the neighborhood? There oughtta be some
shops around pretty easy to get into."
Allie lowered his head. "If you want to, Tony."
"We need dough, Kid. We need it bad."
Lorraine interrupted. "You don't need nothing yet," she
said and the remark brought a smile to Tony's face. She
scowled at him. "Let it go for now."
"Yeah?" he said, still smiling. "But we can't mooch offa
you, Lorraine. We need to buy clothes and a gun a lotta —
stuff."
"You don't need ityet," she insisted. "You only been
out a few days. You wantta get picked up? Leave it go for
now. I got some dough —enough for a while."
"I don't wantta put you out, Lorraine."
"When you put me out, I'll put you out. Don't worry
about that."
Tony shrugged and relaxed. The smile was still there
and he winked at Allie, only Allie didn't see. He was
watching Lorraine, waiting for the "time-to-retire" sign.
Tony shrugged again and picked up one of the comic books
Lorraine had bought.

30
 Monday, April 8
Lorraine's workday laundromat was eight-thirty in
at the
the morning till with a half hour for lunch.
five at night
On that first Monday she kept tight rein on her own
money and Allie and Tony were limited in their explora-
tions to the dollar plus they had between them.
Their day, however, wasn't wasted. They spent part of
their funds on a couple of beers at Pat's bar on the comer
and Tony disassociated himself from Allie long enough to
make a pitch to a solitary girl there. Apparently he could
not produce a sufficient bankroll for it came to nothing
and the two youths walked out.
The rest of the afternoon was spent getting acquainted
—
with the neighborhood without getting spotted by the po-
lice. This was a factor that worried Allie more than Tony.
He knew that no matter what kind of man the beat cop
might be, he found out what was going on in his territory.
After he'd stared at the same faces day after day long
enough, dumb or smart he was going to notice a new one.
The noticing was apt to lead to questioning and if the an-
swers weren't fast and right, or a fin slipped into a surrep-
titious palm, the stranger would more than likely end up
down in headquarters on a vagrancy charge while his fin-
gerprints were checked.
It was Tony who set Allie's mind at ease. His conversa-
tion with the girl in the bar had not all been jockeying
about price and he was pleased to announce that there was
no beat cop any more. Walking, it seemed, developed flat
feet and the ailment had been eliminated by completely
motorizing the force. Patrols were now carried out by two
men touring the area in a squad car. This divorced them
from the natives for it was hard to discourse well from a
car. That meant the cops not only wouldn't recognize a
stranger but they wouldn't hear of him. They were aloof
and unaware and they could be easily avoided.
Tony and Allie, in soiled clothes but without jackets,
bore the look of laborers and conducted their studies with-
out interruption. A small grocery six blocks away struck
31
Allie as the best bet for a burglary, especially after a stroll
through the alley to the yard in back revealed nothing but
a padlock on the rear door. With a screwdriver the hinge
could be unfastened and the door opened without sound.
In fact, Allie pointed out, the hinge could be screwed back
into place afterwards and no one would know how the
burglars got in. It was a touch that tickled Tony. "The
phantom burglars! That's us," he said.
The only drawback was that the owner and his family
obviously lived on the second floor above the store. This
problem could hardly be avoided, however, for most of
the neighborhood shops were nothing more than the lower
floor of an occupied building. A
silent operation would,
nevertheless, take care of the matter. The family would
hear nothing so long as pains were taken, and Allie ob-
served that a streetlight across the way would lighten the
interior of the grocery sufficiently so that he wouldn't
stumble into things. All in all it was a cinch deal and the
only question was how much cash they'd find in the place.
It was when she got home that night that Lorraine found
out about the plan. She was too shrewd to miss the under-
current of excitement in the two men and when supper
was over she said, "All right, what are you up to?"
Tony was sure that if he feigned innocence she'd worm
it out of Allie in bed. Besides that, he was proud of their

choice and their plans. He grinned and said, "We got a

little job lined up."

"For when?"
"Tomorrow night. It won't take long and, if we're lucky,
have some dough for a change."
we'll
"What is it?"
"A store we're gonna knock over. It's a can't-miss deal."
"Yeah," Lorraine said bitterly. "That's what Charlie said,
only it turned into manslaughter."
"All right," Tony snapped, "so there's always a risk. You
think you're telling me something I don't know?"
"How're you gonna get in?"
Tony told her.
"Only you mean Allie's gonna do it, don't you? You'U
stand guard around the corner."
"Lay off the dirty cracks. If anybody's yella, it's Allie.
He's a sneak-type burglar. He does it behind people's
backs. When I do it, it's in front of their face. And I ain't
32
afraid to pull no trigger, neither. You ask a guy named
Dominic Paolella if you don't believe me."
"Who the hell's Dominic Paolella?"
"Just the guy I went to jail for on accountta he opened
his mouth and yelled 'cop' and he got himself shot through
the gut. If he hadn'tta been lucky it'd be a murder rap on
me insteadda assault so shut your frigging mouth."
"Then don't call Allie yellow."
"He ain't yellow. Allie's got guts too. I wouldn'tta let
him come along with me if he was yellow."
Lorraine said, "O.K., Big Shot. So you're gonna knock
over a grocery store. Whaddaya gonna do it with?"
"A screwdriver. It's as simple as that,"
"I mean what about gloves? I mean what about clothes?
Those filthy rags you're wearing, let anybody get a peek at
you and they'll remember you a hundred years. And how
d'ya know there ain't no locks on the inside of that door?
How d'ya know that padlock's all there is? Jesus Christ,
you go there with a screwdriver and if the guy's got noth-
ing harder than a slide bolt on the inside of that door
you're up the creek."
"You're real wise, ain't you?"
"I been around longer than you have and I got a
brother who's been around longer than that. He's forgot
more about that business than you'll ever know and I
learned it from him 'cause I used to spot for him and I
used to drive the car."
Tony said, "All right, you're so great, suppose you tell
us what to do."
She ignored the sarcasm. "First you need gloves. It don't
matter how slick you are if you leave your fingerprints
all over the place."
Tony waved, "Who gives a damn about prints? We're
being hunted whether we knock over a store or not."
"So you ride a freight all the way East to get away and
now you're gonna tell everybody you're in Pittsfield? You
call that being a 'phantom burglar'?"
"So how the hell are you gonna get money out of a
cash drawer with gloves on?"
"You take off one glove and wipe the drawer after-
wards. That means you need handkerchiefs besides gloves.
And something to go over your face. As for clothes, you
can't wear what you've got."
33
 "

"What're we supposed to wear, Ivy League suits?"

"You wear blue jeans and a dark shirt and dark sneak-
ers. You wear an outfit nobody can identify you with, one
that don't show up, and shoes you can run fast in and
keep quiet in."
"Big deal. Only it so happens we ain't got those things."
"So you buy them."
"With what? Ninety cents?"
"I got dough."
"You're gonna stake us, huh? And then cut in on the
profits?"
"You got it. If I'm running the risk of keeping you
here, I'm in it with you. I get a cut too."
"For doing nothing but leave a light burning in the win-
dow you get a cut?"
"For staking you, for sticking my neck out, for telling
you how to do it."
"Only if we get caught, you never heard of us."
"I'll send you a postcard in jail."

Tony shrugged and gestured grandiloquently. "O.K.

Figure yourself in."
"Yeah," Lorraine said flatly. "I oughtta have my head
examined. You know what I oughtta do? I oughtta throw
you bums out on your ear. I'm doing O.K. I don't need
you."
"What're ya crying about?" Tony snapped. "Didn't I
just say you were in?"
"Sure. If you get chased, you'll run here. If you get
peanuts you'll be back for another stake. If you make a
killing — get yourself four or five hundred, I'll never see
you again."
"All right then," Tony said, leering. "Throw us out.
Why don't you throw us out?"
"Go to hell." She pulled out a cigarette and lighted it
nervously. "O.K., now let's get it straight how to do this.
In the first place, you gotta have a place to hide. You
gotta be ready for an emergency."
"Hide? So you don't want us coming back, huh?
thought you was the one — I

"I don'twant you coming back with the cops on

your heels. You
hide here when nobody knows where you
are. You need a temporary hiding place in case of trou-
ble. O.K., I'll figure out a place later. Right now we'll get

34
itstraight about the rest of the deal. I'll give you some
dough and tomorrow you buy the things I tell ya. Only
you don't go in the stores together. You go in one at a
time. Now you'll need a claw in case that door's locked
from the inside — wait,I'll get paper and write it down.'*

Tuesday y April g

At nine-thirty Tuesday night Tony and Allie were ready

to go. They wore jeans, dark long-sleeved shirts, and blue
sneakers. In their jeans pockets each carried two black
handkerchiefs and a pair of cheap cotton gloves. Tony
carried a screwdriver up his shirt sleeve and Allie carried
a steel prize bar up his. These were the main objects of
their afternoon purchases, but others still lay in their
wrappings. These included a pair of slacks each and two
shirts, a bright yellow one for Tony, a more subdued
blue for Allie. In addition they now owned a pair of shoes,
a jacket, two pairs of socks and some underwear.
Lorraine saw them to the head of the stairs. "Remem-
ber," she admonished, "if you're followed, stay way the
hell away from here. And remember the route. I don't want
no bulls beating on my door."
"Don't worry," Tony said irritably. He was anxious to
go and tense at the prospect. "Come on, Allie."
"Don't put on the gloves till you get there!"
"Jesus, you sound like a mother hen. C'mon, Allie."
He headed down the stairs, moving quietly so the woman
on the second floor wouldn't hear and come out.
On the sidewalk outside they separated, Tony going to-
wards Purvey and Allie the other way. On Lorraine's in-
sistence they had paced their routes before supper so
that their timing would be right.
Allie, unable to bend his arm with the bar in his sleeve,
the curved end cradled in his hand, walked faster
than he had on the test trip. His heart was pounding and
his nerves were taut. He hadn't been this keyed up since
his first burglary. Not even when he had robbed the
dry-cleaning shop for getaway clothes after the jailbreak
had he felt this excited. That burglary had been done with
35
no thought of consequences. That had been a desperation
maneuver to shed convict's clothes and get something
else. This forthcoming job was a planned and calculated
one, an occupational pursuit. For him it was still an oc-
cupation with little experience behind it. This was
to be only the fourth burglary of his career —at least the
fourth breaking and entering.
He arrived at the proper corner too soon. Tony was
still not in sight. Allie paused and glanced across the street

at the shut and dark grocery store three doors down the
block and his nervousness increased. There were more peo-
ple around than he had anticipated and there was a
good deal more traffic.
As he stood uncertainly, two girls went by, arm in arm.
One looked him over, from the tight blue jeans to the
young, still untouched face. "Hello, Handsome," she said
as they passed and both looked back, giggling.
He wondered if they might remember him, if they could

pick him out of the police line-up. He tried to convince

himself he wasn't conspicuous, that Tony, in his position,
would probably have stopped the girls for a chat, might
even have made a date for later.
It didn't help and he decided against waiting on the
street comer. He crossed with the light to the other side
and turned down the back alley to the rear of the store.
The yard was vacant and dark. It was almost impossible
to see anything and he tried to remember where the empty
cartons had been stacked, where the garbage pail was
and what else had been there.
He looked up at the windows of the second floor and
they were dark. The back rooms would be the bed-
rooms and nobody was using them yet. He went and
stared out the alley to see if Tony had come. Someone
walked by but Tony wasn't in sight. He watched for two
minutes and then got worried about remaining. The street
comer was bad enough but it was a logical place to be.
If someone caught him in the back of the store, he had
no good answers.
He moved gingerly out the alley, glancing up and down
when he reached the front. Tony appeared from no-
where and shoved him back, following him in. "For
Christ's sake, what were you doing?" he whispered harsh-
ly. "You were supposed to be outside. And then you peek

36
around with guilt all over your frigging face! Come on!"
They went to the back again and luck was with them.
A light was on in one window overhead and its glow en-
abled the pair to pick their way through the trash to the
rear door. "Real good," Tony whispered. "Here's the
screwdriver."
Allie laid the prize bar on the ground and got to work
on the hasp screws. They were old and rusty and in the
darkness it was hard finding their slots. It took a full
fifteen minutes before Allie got them out and slipped them
into his pocket. He put on his gloves then, turned the
knob and felt the door come free. There were no other
locks.
When he slowly pulled the door open, the hinges
squeaked and the squeal sounded like a shriek in the
surrounding silence of the yard and against the distant
noises of the street. The two youths froze and held their
breaths for a long, anxious moment. Nothing hap-
pened and, shaken, they slipped inside, Allie first.
The streetlight, on which they depended for illumina-
tion, was effective up at the front of the store but there in
the back the darkness was Stygian. "I can't see a frigging
thing," Tony muttered. "What're we supposed to do now?"
"Lorraine said put on masks."
"The hell with that. Nobody can see nothing in this
place."
Faintly, from someplace upstairs, the voice of a tele-
vision set murmured and the sound was comforting. "We
have to go carefully," Allie whispered. "The cash register
willbe up at the front."
"You go and I'll stay here. I got the steel bar. I'll

stand guard."
"O.K." Allie was just as glad. He had more confidence
in his own ability through the store without
to creep
collision than Tony's. He was on his home ground now.
His eyes had grown somewhat accustomed to the lack
of light and he could make out the shadows of stocked
groceries and the aisles between. As he progressed, the
way got lighter and the silence, outside of the upstairs
mutter of TV, was total. He felt exhilarated. It was a
snap, a cinch. It couldn't miss.
The cash register was on the side counter near the door
and it was almost too light there. If anyone paused out-
37
side to look through the window, that one would be all
but certain to see him.
He crept, half stooping, behind the counter to the
machine and let his gloved hands feel it. The gloves
were too much of a handicap and he pocketed them.
Then he felt for ways to get the cash register open. It
was an old machine and there was no lock on the
drawer. That much was to the good, but pressing the
drawer, feeling for knobs and otherwise exploring proved
fruitless. The machine was obviously so simple it only
opened by ringing up a sale.
Allie shook his head. He didn't like that. He felt under
the counter but there was no strongbox. If there was any
loose cash in the store it had to be in the register. He held
his breath, waited until the sidewalk outside was clear of
people, then pressed the cash register keys.
The clang of the bell as the drawer jumped open
sounded like a prizefight gong and Allie leaped back,
froze, then looked around.Someone walked by outside
without looking in. The muted sound of the TV continued
calmly. All else was silence.
Slowly Allie's heart stopped pounding. He took a breath
and stepped forward again. His fingers lightly felt the
drawer partitions, encountered loose change but no paper
money. He made a face. Nickels and quarters, dimes
and pennies! He should have known there'd be nothing in
a shop like this. He lifted the metal drawer lining and
slid his hand underneath where the big bills would be
kept but there was nothing there either.
Almost angrily he began scooping out the small
amounts of change. He'd be lucky to get back outside with
five dollars for his trouble.
He stuffed the coins in his pocket and was just feeling
for the handkerchief when, with a flash that staggered him
with terror, all the lights in the store went on.
He mouth open and was stunned to
whirled with his
see the owner coming towards him from the stairway.
He was a short man whose stocky build had run to fat.
His hair was gray and thin, his face puffy, and he wad-
dled like a goose. As a hero he looked comical but there
was no humor in it for Allie. The man had a thirty-eight
revolver and he pointed it steadily. He knew what he was
about and he was angry enough to shoot without hesita-
38
 " "

tion. "So," the man said, scowling through his glasses, his
lower puffy cheeks flushed with anger,
lip thrust out, his
"you think you do something, huh? You think you steal
from George Panatopolis, huh?"
Allie couldn't take his eyes off the gun. He swallowed.
"Honest, mister
—
The man came up to the open side of the counter. "I
call the cops. So how you like that, huh? Come outta
there,you punk. Stick up your hands."
them to shoulder height and shuffled
Allie raised for-
ward. All he could think about was the picture of that
man at a telephone, the police arriving, a trip to the sta-
tion house, and then the interviews under garish lights.
If it were a theft that would be one thing, but
just
they'd find out in no time that he was an escaped con
and then he'd be sunk. All because of this little man.
"Please, mister," Allie said in desperation. "I wasn't
doing nothing."
"Hah!" was a snort of rage and the man backed up,
It
keeping well out of Allie's reach while holding him help-
lessly at bay. It was as if the man were used to burglars.
"You think you rob old George out of the money he
saves, huh? I show you."
Allie wanted to cry. He wanted to get down on his knees
before the old man and swear he'd never steal again in his
live if only the man would let him go. He'd mean it too.
He wouldn't ever want to risk a spot like this again if
only the man would let him off this time.
A woman's voice, around the turn of the stairs, hol-
lered, "What is it, George?"
"A punk," George called back. "I caught him with his
hands in the cashbox. Call the cops, Essie. I hold him."
"You all right, George?"
"Sure. Call the cops, Essie." He lowered his voice. "Come
on, punk, keep those hands up and don't move. I'll put a
hole through ya, ya punk."
Off at the front Allie noticed that no one was yet
peering through the window. The lights hadn't attracted
any real attention. "Mister," he pleaded, "I didn't mean to
do nothing. I
—
"Shut up, punk," the man interrupted. "You just stand
still and keep quiet."
"Won't you even listen?"
39
 "Tell it to the cops. The cops come, you tell them.
They'll listen."
Once more the awful specter of the swarm of police,
the questioning and all the rest flooded before his eyes.
If there were any chance of jumping the man he'd have
taken it. He'd risk anything to get away, but the man gave
him no leeway at all.
A movement at the rear caught his eye. It was Tony
creeping silently through the store and hope exploded in
AUie's chest. He'd completely forgotten Tony and it sur-
prised him. How could he have forgotten his buddy? Had
he, subconsciously, assumed Tony had fled? Ridiculous.
Not his buddy Tony.
He watched without appearing to watch. The man was
talking to him now,
calling him names, trying to rein-
still the fear in Allie he could sense had gone. Allie
didn't hear him. His attention was all on Tony. Tony was
close now but Allie could see he was unarmed. Why
hadn't he brought the steel prize bar? A
clout on the
old man's head and nobody would get hurt. This way it
was two against one but the one had a gun and the gun
might go off.
Tony drew close enough to pounce and Allie shifted his
feet slightly, getting himself poised.
At the last moment some
inner sense warned the old
man that something was wrong. He started to turn his
head. As he did, Tony rose and his arms leaped like
snakes. One circled the old man's neck and the other
struck his arm and wrestled for the gun.
The man wrenched but all he did was throw himself
off balance. He started to struggle, one hand clawing at the
vice around his neck while the other tried to get the gun
free.
Then was on him, both hands diving for the
Allie
thirty-eight. He
tore it from the man's hand with the
frenzy of fear. The gun clattered to the floor and Allie
hit the man as hard as he could in the stomach and side
of the head.
"Police!" hollered the man
Tony's hold slipped. Then
as
Tony swung around and him in the mouth.
hit
"Police!" the man shouted again in a blubbering tone
and there was an echoing yell from out front. Some-
40
body had looked in the window and was starting to run,
shrieking, "Police! Help, police!"
Inside the store both youths drove their fists into the old
fat man, swinging wildly in their desperation. The man
stopped shouting. "Please, please," he said, and moaned.
Blood was running from his nose and mouth and red fist
marks were stamped on his shirt. He slumped to the
floor and Tony gave him a vicious kick.
"Run," he panted, turning to Allie. He pushed him
aside and snatched up the gun. "Run for it." He bolted
for the back.
Allie took a step to follow, then checked his own
panic as a thought struck him. He bent over the semi-
conscious and groaning man, rolled him onto his side and
felt his back pocket. A
fat wallet was stuffed there and
he yanked it out.
As he did, the front door rattled and he looked up to
see a cop. "Halt," the cop yelled and tugged at his hip.
Allie turned and sprinted down the straight aisle for
the back door. There was the explosion of a shot and a
bullet whanged into the doorframe beside his head as he
went through into the blackness of the yard. Upstairs
all the Ughts were on and a woman was screaming.

At the end of the yard was a six-foot fence and Allie

went over it without breaking stride, still holding the
wallet and without any knowledge of how he man-
aged it. Ahead he could hear Tony's footsteps pounding
in the alley to the opposite street, the slap of his
sneakers on the pavement echoing against the buildings.
crashed full tilt into a refuse can and
Allie, following,
sent it rolling. A
sharp stab of pain leaped through his
leg and he stumbled to regain his balance, then Ut out full
speed again through the alley after Tony.
Tony was across the street and down the block when
Allie burst onto the sidewalk. Without slowing, Allie pur-
sued the sound of footsteps. He had always been fleet
and now he ran as he never had before in his effort
to leave pursuit behind and gain the security of his com-
panion ahead.
He drew up on Tony slowly but it wasn't till they had
covered three blocks like that that he finally caught him.
Tony was panting and his pace was hardly more than a
41
trot. "Where are they?" he gasped as Allie, nearly spent
himself, drew even.
"I don't know," Allie managed between breaths. "Back
there somewhere."
They slowed to a walk and tried to regain their wind,
glancing again and again behind them. "Watch out for
cars," Tony "Look normal."
said.
"Yeah. You gun away."
better put that
Tony seemed surprised to find he was carrying it. He
tucked it "That's right," he said, patting
quickly in his belt.
it. "Whatta we got to be afraid of with this?"

They went another block, zig-zagging a trail ever farther

away. "I heard a noise back in the store sounded like a
shot," Tony said. "What was it?"
"A shot." Allie was begirming to feel good about things.
"Who?"
"A cop. He fired through the front door at me. Grazed
my ear."
Tony grinned. "I hope that frigging grocer makes him
pay for the glass. How
did he get the jump on you
anyhow?"
"He mustta heard the cash register. He come down the
stairs so quiet I never knew a thing till he turned on
the lights."
"Anything in his frigging register?"
"A few coins."
Tony patted his gun again. "Well we got something for
our trouble anyway."
"We got more'n that. I lifted the old bastard's wallet."
Tony clapped him on the back. "What a guy. That's
real cool under fire. I always knew you were all right,
Allie."
The words were a tonic and Allie glowed inside. "Sure,"
he said. "And you tackled the old man. You saved me,
Tony."
"No frigging old bastard's gonna get my pal.Not while
Tony DeGennaro's around. You can bet your goddam life
on that!" He checked the empty street again. "Listen,
we've walked far enough. I think we can start working our
way back."
"To the hide-out?"
"Hell no, to the apartment."

42
 Tuesday Night

They got back to Lorraine's at eleven-fifteen and Lorraine

had the door open before they were half up the stairs.
"For Christ's sake," she whispered. "What the hell kept
you?"
"Just a httle trouble," Tony said, grinning. He patted the
gun.
"Where'd you get that?" she demanded, closing the
door behind them.
"Took it off a guy. The way he was waving it around I
thought somebody might get hurt."
"What guy? The store owner?"
"Yeah. He jumped Allie so I slapped him around a
httle and took his gun away."
Lorraine was as jittery as an errant husband. "What're
ya doing here? Were you followed?"
Tony waved carelessly. "Relax. You don't think we'd
lead the law to our doorstep, do you? They never got a
smell of us." He went over to where Allie was opening
the wallet under the light and now his eyes bugged. "Holy
Christ! Look at the wad!"
Lorraine came over too. The wallet contained a fistful
of bills, largely tens and twenties. "Hey," she said. "Is

that what you got?"

"That's right," Tony said. "Allie got the bastard's wallet
and I got his gun. We really got a going team, huh,
Allie?"
He was getting more flattery tonight than
Allie grinned.
whole previous life and he felt great. The team of
in his
Tony and Allie. There was nothing they couldn't ac-
complish.
He started to sort the money but Tony snatched it
away from him, eager to feel it in his own hands.
"Let's see what we got here," he said and began laying it

out.
The eye-popping total was $784.00 and when Allie
emptied pockets another $3.62 in change was added.
his
"How's that for an evening's work?" Tony said, beaming.
43
"Did I pick the spot or didn't I?" He gathered up the
money and peeled five twenties from the roll and held
them out to Lorraine. "Didn't I tell you a hundred
bucks? Leave it to Tony to call the shots."
Lorraine took the money and then said, "Where's the
rest of it?"
"Rest of it?" Tony's smile went away. "There ain't no
*rest'. You
got that and consider yourself lucky."
"That hundred's for rent. I'm talking about my cut."
"You don't get no cut. Whattaya mean?"
"I mean I doped the thing out for ya. I planned the
goddam job."
"The hell you did. Allie and me
you to pull
didn't need
it off. We can plan our own We
you blabber 'cause
jobs. let
you wanted to blabber but we ain't paying you for talk.
Allie and me run the risks and Allie and me get the
dough."
She said bitterly, "I ain't seen you give Allie none yet."
"I'm the treasurer. I keep the dough. Ain't that right,
Allie?"
Allie nodded.
Tony peeled off a ten-spot and tossed it on the table.
"Here, Allie. Here's some pocket dough. You need more,
you tell me."
Lorraine put her hands on her hips. "And what about
the dough I gave ya to buy the clothes and stuff with?
You ain't paid that back yet."
"What'd that come to? Seventy-eight something, wasn't
it, Allie?" He pulled off five more twenties. "Here and
don't say I ain't generous."
Lorraine was satisfied. She took the bills greedily and
Tony grinned. He stuffed the wad in his pocket and
rubbed his hands. "Well now, let's say we celebrate. I feel
like going out on the town. A
big haul like this don't come
every day!"
Alliesaid, "Hey, great," and even Lorraine smiled.
"How about Pat's on the comer?"
"The hell with that dive. I mean celebrate. I mean
something decent where there's dancing. I mean I wantta
—
go where there're some broads not a bunch of down-and-
out bums. How about it, Lorraine? You know this burg.
Name something."
The place they went to was close to the center of town,
44
a pseudo-swank cocktail bar with dim lights, a jukebox,
a small dance floor and higher-priced drinks. Tony and
Allie got into the new clothes and the three of them took
the Purvey Street bus, arriving at quarter past twelve.
There were no more than a dozen people in the lounge,
most of them men. Tony picked a table and went to the
bar for beers but his eyes were on what females were
present. One was a fat, middle-aged woman in a too
tight dress who sat on a bar stool and talked earnestly,
her face flushed, to a man who appeared not to listen. A
skinny redhead in a print dress also sat at the bar and
two other girls, a blonde and a brunette, swayed to the
jukebox music in the arms of a couple of unappealing men.
Tony came back with the beers and sat down. "The
blonde out dancing ain't bad," he said. "She ain't bad at
all."
Allie, who hadn't really paid attention to the women,
looked over at her. She wore a bright red dress and the
figure it covered was well developed and alluring. Allie
liked that and he also liked her grace. She handled her-
self well and he began to watch her. Her back was to-
wards him most of the time and he didn't get to see her
face until the number ended and the two separated
but when he did, he liked that too. He liked it very much.
She was one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen, for she
had a cute, baby-type face, merry, untroubled eyes, and
a mouth that was accustomed to smiles. She clapped her
hands lightly and happily, then went to the brunette for a
few words before the music started again.
Allie glanced at Tony but Tony's eyes were all on the
blonde. Allie didn't blame him. She was a dish, all
right, and she made him conscious of Lortaine's plain-
ness, of the fact that Lorraine didn't attract him at all
until they got into bed. Even then it was only animal
attraction and not the kind of emotion they made movies
about. The blonde was nice just to look at. She was pretty
to watch and alluring even with her clothes on.
Tony said, "Let's shove that punk outta there," and got
up to cut in. Allie watched with wistful envy as Tony
clapped the man on the shoulder and took the girl in
his own arms. He couldn't have done that for all the
money they'd stolen that night. He didn't know what to
do around girls other than the bedroom techniques Lor-
45
raine had taught him and they, somehow, didn't go with
the blonde.
When the record ended, Tony took the girl to the bar
for a drink and they leaned on it together, their heads
close. Allie glanced at Lorraine and her face was stony.
She obviously didn't approve but he didn't know why.
After all, Tony didn't have anybody. Why shouldn't he
have some fun?
Tony and the girl put a coin in the jukebox and danced
again while the man who'd been with her, a flabby-looking
individual in his thirties, watched unhappily from a table.
He had a mustache and he kept picking at it over his drink
while seeming to debate what action to take. There weren't
too many answers. Lean, muscular Tony wasn't somebody
to tackle, especially when he wasn't alone.
When that record was finished, Tony picked up the
drinks from the bar and steered the girl to Allie and Lor-
raine. "This is Valentine," he said. "Valentine May. Some
name, huh?" He introduced "Lorraine" and "My buddy,
Allie", and they sat down. "Here's your drink, Baby."
She nodded a thank you and said, "Aren't you two
dancing? You oughtta try it. It's a lotta fun. I been danc-
ing almost steady since half past nine.'*
Tony said, "You come here often?"
"Quite a lot. Me and Bemice. She's my girlfriend."
Tony jerked a thumb. "What about the guy? Is he your
boyfriend?"
"Boyfriend?" Valentine laughed. "Heck no. I only met
him tonight."
"And now you met us!"
"That's right." She lifted her glass. "Here's to us."
Tony probed her with more questions and learned she'd
been raised in Albany, she worked as a waitress in a
and shared a room with Bernice a block away
cafeteria
on Bentwood Street. Bernice worked in the cafeteria with
her.
"Only one room?" Tony said.
"Sure. Thirty-five dollars a month for the two of us."
"Whattaya do if Bemice, say, has a boyfriend who
wants to come up?"
She laughed. "We can't have anybody up. The land-
lady's very strict."
"Hell, she goes to bed don't she?"
46
 "Not till awful late. And we have to get up early, you
know."
Tony didn't like that and made a face. "Yeah," he said
bitterly.
She cocked her head at him. "You got a car?"
"No."
"You don't even have a car? I thought everybody had a
car. What do you do? I mean, what's your job?"
"I'm a promoter," Tony said.
"Promoter? What do you promote?"
"Whatever anybody wants promoted."
"Al there, the man I was dancing with before, he's a
salesman. He's here from Hartford."
"The hell with him."
"He's got a brand new Oldsmobile. He was going to
give me a ride in it."
"Well, I was thinking of buying a Cadillac myself. Con-
vertible, of course."
Valentine's eyes grew round. "You mean it?"
"Closed a little deal today. I'm thinking about it"
"Will you take me for a ride?"
"You said it. Baby. Unless you'd rather ride in an Olds."
She gestured impatiently. "Al's a drip. You're much bet-
ter looking than he is."
"I'm better all around than he is."
She eyed him and smiled. "I'll bet you are."
They got up and danced some more and Al, seeming to
make up his mind, cut in. Tony shook him off and Al tried
again. There followed a brief discussion in quiet tones at
the end of which Al stalked back to his table, finished
Valentine's drink, threw a bill beside the glass and left.
Both Tony and Valentine turned in their dancing to watch
him go.
When the number was over it was nearly closing time.
Tony and Valentine went to say something to Bemice and
came back to the table. "Valentine's coming back with us
for a drink," Tony announced. "Let's get moving."
Lorraine looked Valentine over and said sourly, "What
about your girlfriend?"
Valentine shrugged. "She can get home by herself."
"And how're you gonna get home?"
"We got a car, Bemice and me. We share it only I drive
on accountta I'm the one with the Ucense."
47
 The car was a cramped jalopy that rattled like an ice
wagon but the engine was good and Valentine took them
home in it. They climbed the stairs and if the flat wasn't
the expected quarters of a promoter contemplating a Cad-
illac, showed no disappointment.
Valentine
much," Tony said. "We'll be moving out soon.
"It ain't I
get the couch and the damned thing's too small."
Valentine laughed. "Why that's a convertible couch.
Didn't you know that?" Then she showed him how it
opened up and Tony was tickled. "What the hell do you
know about that?" he said. "That solves all our problems."
The pair was playful while drinks were being made and
even Allie grinned and felt lighthearted. Only Lorraine re-
mained stony-faced and when she came back from show-
ing Valentine the facilities, she cut loose. "You stupid,
knuckle-headed bastard," she said to Tony in a searing
voice. "What the hell are you trying to do?"
His mood was too gay to be upset and he laughed at her.
"A big girl like you oughtta know the answer to that one
without asking."
"Did you see her eyes pop at the wad you paid the bill
with? She's gonna roll you, you simple-minded son of a
bitch. What d'ya think she came up here for, your charm?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do." The amusement fled
and his voice got harsh. "So shove it. It's time you and the
kid went to bed."
Lorraine turned on her heel. "Well don't come crying to
me.
Allie trailed after her while, behind them, Tony
laughed.

Wednesday^ April lo

When the alarm went off in the morning, Allie stumbled

out of bed in a daze to push down the plunger. It was
agony getting up on so little sleep. He wasn't used to cur-
tailed rest, for in prison there had always been eight full
hours and before that he had slept when he wanted.
He forced himself across the hall to the bathroom to
rinse his face and, feeling better, padded barefoot and in
48
shorts to the living room. At the doorway he blinked and
stopped dead. The convertible couch had been opened into
a double bed and Valentine, her clothes neatly folded
across a chair, was in it with Tony. She turned her head
above the sheets in a startled glance and Tony came up
on an elbow. "You frigging bastard," he snarled. "Get the
hell outta here!"
Allie fled back to the bedroom in semi-shock. Somehow
the idea of Valentine spending the whole night hadn't oc-
curred to him. Lorraine was sitting on the edge of the
bed rubbing the sleep from her eyes and she said sourly,
"What's with you?" She was always sour in the morning.
"She's still here," Allie said and the fact in some way
seemed ominous.
Lorraine swore, got up and padded naked to the bureau
to start dressing. Allie watched the anger in her move-
ments and suddenly felt defensive towards Tony. "What's
it matter?" he said. "So she goes away."

"So she don't belong here," Lorraine growled and went

to the closet for a dress.
"What of it? Tony's entitled. We did good last night."
"So you think it's just last night?" she snorted. "You
think he's only gonna want a dame when he pulls a job?
Well if he thinks he's gonna bring every tramp in the world
up here .
." She was quick with clothes and, hitching her
.

dress in place, started for the door.

Allie said, "Hey, he don't want you disturbing him."
"That happens to be the way to the kitchen," she said,
wheeling by the bureau. "And I happen to want some cof-
fee before I go to work. If he don't like it, he can go rent
himself a pad."
A stricken look came into Allie's face. He and Tony
were a team. If dames started coming between them that
would tear it and he'd be out in the cold again. The hell
with dames if that was the case.
Lorraine paused at his expression as if reading his mind.
She came back and patted his cheek. "Don't worry about
it. Honey. Everything's gonna come out O.K."

She stalked out down the hall then and Allie could hear
Tony swear again. Lorraine's answer was a sneer. "I
thought Valentine had to go to work. Do you know what
the hell time it is?" There was a rattle of pots and pans in
49
the kitchen and the coffee pot was slapped hard on the
stove.
Allie got into his clothes slowly and unhappily and he
didn't leave the bedroom until Lorraine called him. He
found Valentine fully dressed and putting on make-up
with the aid of her compact mirror, smoothing the lip-
stick with her finger. "Hi," she said brightly and snapped
her compact shut. "I guess I gave you a start."
— —
"No, I uh " She smelled nice and she was as pretty
as a spring day, soft, warm and uncomplicated. Allie was
aware of blushing.
She gave his arm a playful slap. "Sure I did. But it was
so late and Tony said I might's well sleep here and
stop off home to change on my way to work."
"That's fine," said Allie awkwardly. He liked her playful
touching of him but he feared Tony wouldn't. "I guess
Lorraine's got coffee ready."
"I can't stay. I don't have time."
"Oh. Well, gee, it's been nice meeting you."
Tony, with pants on but his well-muscled body exposed
from the waist up, put an arm around Valentine and
drew her against him. "It ain't good-by, huh, Baby?" He
was glowing.
She looked up at him with her prettiest smile and shook
her head.
At the door they went into a long clinch before she
started down the stairs and he stood on the top landing
watching her until she was on the porch. Then he closed
the door, seized Allie around the waist and swung him in
a circle. "What a doll!" he said. "Jesus, is she ever some-
thing!"
Lorraine was standing in the kitchen doorway and her
voice was acid. "You still got your wad. Hero?"
Tony pulled it from his pocket and showed it to her.
"Take a look. Take a big, frigging look, Cat, and pull in
your frigging claws!"
"Yeah? Well if she ever comes back around here you tell
her to keep her goddam mitts off a my man!"
Tony sat down to the breakfast and leered. "Not 'if.
Cat. When! I got her just about persuaded to move in."
Both Lorraine and Allie came to a dead stop. Lorraine
turned slowly. "What?"
"You heard me. Four's company. Three's a crowd."
50
 "

"Sheain't moving in here if that's what you're thinking."

"O.K., then I'm moving out."
AlHe's heart stopped. He swallowed. "What about us,
Tony? I mean you'n me?"
"There'll be room for you, Kid. Don't worry about that.
I ain't forgetting we're a team. Where I go, you go and —
so does Valentine. I won't let you down."
Lorraine was silent for a moment. Then she snapped,
"All right. If she's fool enough to want to move in, the hell
with her. Let her move in."
Tony grinned his insolent victory smile. "Sure we
wouldn't be putting you out, Cat? Wouldn't want to in-
convenience you."
"She's gonna roll you, you bum. She ain't hanging
around you on accountta your looks. She thinks you got
dough. She thinks you're gonna buy her a Caddy con-
vertible. That's what she's in it for."
Tony came half to his feet and if Lorraine had been
close enough, he might have hit her. "Shut up about her,"
he said through his teeth. "You keep your trap shut, Cat,
or I'll smash your face."

Lorraine eased off but she didn't back away. "O.K., if

that's the way you want it. So what're ya gonna do the
next time you need dough? You gonna tell her how you
get it? You gonna tell her you ain't no promoter, you're a
common thief?"
"Youtalk!" Tony sneered, resuming his seat. "Who
planned the job? Who're you to be calling me a thief?"
"Never mind me. What about her? How long do ya
think you're gonna hide what you do? How long do you
think that wad'U last ya? And when it's gone, whaddaya
gonna do? Go to work? Or maybe you think she can sup-
port you."
Tony came up once more with his arm cocked. "If you
wasn't a girl
—
and put his arms around him. "Take it
Allie leaped
easy, Tony. There ain't no use fighting. Go easy.'*
"I gotta good mind to pull outta here anyhow," Tony
said to him. "I'm sick of her mouth. Just because her
brother was a big shot. Why the hell don't you slap her
down, you sonuvabitch! She's your girl."
"Because he ain't like you," Lorraine said.
51
 "

"You can say that again because if he was you'dda had

your goddam neck broken before now!"
Lorraine picked up her coffee cup and drained it. "I
gotta go," she said and patted Allie's cheek in passing.
"See if you can get the Big Shot to learn some sense before
he lands us all in jail."
Allie resumed his seat and played with his coffee till
she was gone. "Is that right, Tony?" he finally said. "Valen-
tine's gonna live here?"
Tony punched his arm. "You can count on it. Kid. Jesus,
one night and she's ready to move in. I guess I got it, huh,
Kid? And what a dish. That doll's really got it! Good
looks, good personality, good disposition! Not like that
bitch, Lorraine." He sucked his lip. "And hotter'n a fire-
cracker. I ain't never seen a dame get her clothes off so
fast. I swear she was bare-assed by the time you got in
the bedroom."
Allie made marks in the oilcloth tabletop with his
spoon. "Lorraine don't like the idea."
"Frig Lorraine."
Allie looked up. "What I mean is —
maybe you got the
right idea, Tony. I mean about moving outta here."
Tony looked at him sharply. "What's the matter, Kid?
That bitch giving you trouble?"
"No. I don't mean that."
"Something's eating you. Spit it out."
"You two are fighting all the time."
"So what?"
"If Valentine comes here, it's gonna get worse."
"You want out,huh? Why? Ain't she no good in bed?"
Allie flushed. "Sure she is."
"No complaints?"
"No." He hesitated. "I mean she's kindda eager. I don't
know how to explain it. I feel kindda like I'm owned or
something."
Tony relaxed. "Don't worry about it. Kid. Dames are
like that, especially dames who got trouble getting a man.
She wants to hold onto you, I know that. It sticks out all
over her. That's why I made that crack about moving out
I knew she wouldn't stand for it."
"What I mean is, if we did move out —
Tony waved a hand. "Forget it. We got it made right
52
 "

here. We got no expenses, we each got a dame, and Lor-

raine ain't no dope when it comes to figuring angles."
"But you said we'd move —
*That was talk. That was to make her eat her own crap.
I knew goddam well she wouldn't let us move. She likes
you too much." Tony laughed. "I don't know what you've
got but she sure goes for it. You got her eating outta your
hand and that ain't something to pass up. She's gonna be
a help to us, Kid. She's gonna be a big help! Only don't
you ever tell her I said so."

Wednesday Afternoon

Tony and Allie lolled around the house most of the day,
drinking beer and feeling like kings. They had money and
Tony had a girl. Her name kept cropping up and Allie
heard over and over again what a doll she was.
Towards four o'clock they went outdoors for a change
of scene and to see what the papers had to say about the
robbery. They bought the Pittsfield daily at a candy store
around the corner and opened it in a booth in Pat's bar
over a beer. The story was on the first page and Allie
gasped. The headline read, "STORE OWNER DIES IN
BURGLARY."
"It can't be,'* Allie whispered, staring at the bold let-
ters with stunned eyes.
"Shut up," Tony muttered, and even he was shaken.
"Finish the beer. We're getting outta here." He put away
the paper, tucking it in his pocket, and his poise came
back. He sipped from the glass with the nonchalance that
Allie usually admired but this time Allie strained with im-
patience. He kept staring at the protruding paper, itching
to get it, and Tony had to whisper, "For God's sake, act
natural I"
Then they were out on the street but Tony still wouldn't
and he kept the paper in his jacket
yield to Allie's curiosity
pocket till they were back in the flat once more. At last,
with the door safely locked, he spread it on the table and
both pored over the story.
George Panatopolis, according to the report, had in-

53
terrupted one or more burglars in his shop about ten
o'clock the previous night. The burglars had beaten the
sixty-three-year-old man and he succumbed in an ambu-
lance en route to the hospital. Cause of death was listed
as heart attack pending autopsy and a hunt was on for
the killer or killers.
Further down the column the article related how Patrol-
man Jacob Morris had arrived on the scene as the burglar,
a youth in his early twenties, dressed in dungarees and
dark shirt, was stealing the fallen man's wallet. He had
fired through the glass pane of the door as the robber fled
but the shot had missed. Morris described the thief as
dark-haired but that was all he could say. Entry had been
gained through the back door of the store and fingerprint
experts were going over the premises.
Allie finished reading, white and shaken. "Jesus," he
said. "We killed him!"
Tony punched him hard. "Come off it. We
didn't kill
him. He had
a heart attack. That ain't our fault!"
—
"Yeah, but if we I mean the judge would call it mur-
der."
"What judge? What the hell makes you think we're going
before any frigging judge?"
"The cop saw me."
"I read that. He says you got dark hair. What the hell
does that mean? Will you, for Christ's sake, relax? No-
body's gonna do nothing. Now forget it."
Allie licked his lips. "I wish I could. Jesus, if we
hadn'tta broke in the guy'd still be alive."
"If he hadn't stuck a gun in your face he'd be alive too.
The nosy old bastard got what was coming to him. He
shouldda stayed upstairs with his frigging TV."
"Yeah, but—"
"Yeah but what? You want me not to've jumped him?
Ya want me to have gone away and left ya? You know
where you'd be if I hadn'tta belted him one? If he was
alive now you'd be in a cell waiting transportation back
to Indiana and that frigging meathead would be the one
fingering you! You oughtta be goddam glad he kicked off.
He's the one bastard who could really identify you! He
had you memorized down to your last frigging whisker,
that's what he had, and if you ever happened just to walk
by his goddam store or happened to stick your head out
54
on the sometime when he was accidentally passing
street
by, he'd be hollering 'cop' and we'd've had it. If that
bastard was still alive we'd have to clear outta this burg.
That's what we'd have to do. You oughtta be goddam glad
he's dead 'cause he's the only witness!"
Allie shook his head. "But, Jesus, I didn't mean for him
to die."
Tony punched him again, harder this time. "What's the
matter with you? You yella or something? He'dda kicked
off in a day or two anyhow with a bad heart. So what if
he is dead? Who the hell was he? Who the hell cares? Stop
your goddam blubbering."
"That's all right for you. You actually shot a man once."
"And I'dda shot this one if I'd had the gun. If you're
gonna be yella, what're you a burglar for? You think you
can break into places and nobody's ever gonna try to
stop ya? You goddam well oughtta know it's gonna hap-
pen sooner or later and when it does it's you or him.
Whattaya want it to be, you?"
Allie shook his head. "No. I suppose you're right. It's
just that I'm kindda excited maybe." He looked up. "I
ain't yella, Tony."
"TTien show you ain't. Insteadda worrying about what
happened to some punk who didn't deserve to be living
anyhow, why don't you worry about the things that mat-
ter? Like leaving your frigging fingerprints. What'd ya
take your goddam gloves off for anyhow?"
"It was just to get into the drawer."
"Yeah, and if they get any prints and check them out,
you know what's gonna happen? They're gonna discover
there's two jailbreakers supposed to be in Indiana some-
where who're here in Pittsfield. That's gonna be just great!
All I can say is that's one hell of a goddam robbery we
pulled off! We're gonna have to lay low for a while. I
guess you know that!"
"Yeah. I know. But I didn't mean nothing, Tony."
Tony decided Allie was contrite enough. He clapped
him on the shoulder. "It's O.K., Kid. There ain't nobody
gonna touch us. The only witness is dead and they prob-
ably ain't gonna get nothing on those prints. We'll be
O.K. Now straighten up. I don't want you moping when
Valentine's here. I don't want her suspecting nothing."

55
 Friday, April 12 through Friday, April 26

"It won't work," Lorraine said, snapping off television and

sitting down again. Her tones were measured and she
looked at the other three.
Tony laughed. "What's the matter, Lorraine? Don't you
like Allieand me staying here?"
"That- ain't the point. This place can't fit four."
"Valentine ain't complaining, are ya, Honey?"
"Uh-uh. I like it here, Lover." She patted his knee.
"Ya see, Lorraine? You're the only bitcher in the crowd.
So if you don't like it, Allie and Valentine and me can
move. The quicker the better."
"That ain't what I'm talking about. I mean the four of
us should move."
"All of us, huh?"
"Yeah. Into a house. We got money."
"Ain't you guy you go see once a
forgetting a certain
week, Lorraine? Ain't he likely to ask interesting questions
if you wantta up and move?"

"Ain't he gonna ask some questions if he finds out

there's four of us here? Besides, you miss the point. I'd
keep this place too."
"So we get a house. There'll be more questions."
"We get a house outside of town. A
place that's iso-
lated. Get me? Just the four of us."
Tony stroked his cheek thoughtfully. "Well now, that
ain't maybe too bad an idea, Whattaya think, Allie?"
"I dunno, Tony. There'd be papers to sign and things."
"I know what you mean. A lease. But Valentine could
sign that. How about it, Honey?"
"Anything you say. Lover. What you and Handsome
think, I'm all for."
Lorraine snapped, "His name is AlUe. You call him
*Allie'."
"Sure, Lorraine. Hello—Allie."
"Hello, Valentine."
Tony broke in. "Let's cut out the crap. O.K., I think the
house deal is good. Tell ya. Valentine's got a car. Her and
56
Lorraine'll go see some real estate agents tomorrow morn-
ing. We'll let 'em pick the spot. O.K., Allie?"
"Sure, Tony."
"I'll give ya some dough, Lorraine, so you can make

the payment."
They set up housekeeping on Easter Sunday in a two-
floor, eight-room furnished house on the southern fringe
of the Pittsfield city limits. It was far enough from the
neighbors to give them sufficient privacy, near enough to
the bus line to make the city accessible, and Valentine
signed a one-year lease at $130 per with a month's rent
in escrow.
"It ain't bad," Tony admitted to Allie privately. "Of
course I know what that bitch Lorraine's got up her
sleeve. She's trying to tie us down. She wants you around,
Kid."
"You want us to be tied down, Tony?"
—
"I'm all for it, Kid so long as I got my girl."
"Does she know about us yet? I mean what we do?"
"I ain't told her if that's what you mean."
"You going to?"
"I ain't sure. I don't think she's that stuck on me yet.
She might walk out and I ain't taking chances."
"But we're gonna need money. How ya gonna explain
to her about our going out nights?"
"I been thinking about that. Kid. So she'n Lorraine
work all day? So'U we."
"We can't burgle places in the daytime!"
"No, but you're forgetting something. You're forgetting
that gun I took offa the old cluck we knocked off."
"You mean you're gonna hold up places in the day-
time?"
"I mean we are. You'n me, Kid."
"But we ain't got a car for a getaway."
"We're gonna steal 'em. Steal 'em and ditch 'em. And we
can use Lorraine's flat to go to. She'n Valentine can pick
us up on their way home."
They struck for the first time in daylight on the follow-
ing Wednesday. Valentine drove them into town when she
took Lorraine to work that morning for, as Tony told her,
he had "business" appointments. The two got off near the
green and roamed the downtown area till they found a car
parked at a meter with the keys in it. They took it to the
57
north side of town and Tony walked into a liquor store
while Allie kept the motor running. It was a two-minute
operation and netted them forty-eight dollars in bills.
They hit a drugstore next, some twenty blocks away, and
collected ninety-three dollars more. Then, deciding not to
press their luck, they abandoned the car on a side street
and took a bus back to the flat where they killed the rest
of the time drinking beer and complimenting themselves on
their skill.
"A piece of cake," Tony kept saying. "Just like a piece
of cake."
The robberies got a big write-up the following day with
the papers calling them "daring daylight holdups." Tony
was pleased. "I guess they've discovered something new's
come to town," he told Allie. What also pleased him was
that the descriptions of the robber given by the liquor store
owner and the druggist were fragmentary and didn't jibe.
They hit another liquor store the following week but the
results weren't as happy. In the first place, the till only
contained eleven dollars and, in the second, the victim's
description of Tony was much more accurate. He was
characterized in the papers as tall, well built, dark wavy
hair, swarthy complexion, probably Italian, and he had a
small mole on his right cheekbone.
Tony brooded about it that evening after the papers
came out. Lorraine knew what the trouble was for she had
seen the story but Valentine, oblivious to the way "Lover"
made his money, perhaps deliberately so, kept trying vainly
to cheer things up and complained that the place was like
a morgue. Finally she gave up and went to bed.
They held a council of war then and it was decided
that Allie would pull the next holdup with Tony driving
the car. "Cross 'em up a little," Lorraine said. "The bulls'll
be falling all over their own feet trying to figure it."

was a suggestion Allie acquiesced in readily. He'd

It
watched Tony in action enough to see the advantages of
armed robbery. No sneaking through dark alleys. No forc-
ing locks in the dead of night with the dread fear of mak-
ing noise. No worry about burglar alarms, no long periods
of exposure to arrest getting in and out of places. Stick a
gun in a man's face, tell him to punch the register and
hand over the bills. One minute and it's done. One minute
58
and you've got more money than after an hour of burglar-
ing.As Tony had said, a piece of cake!
They chose the day Lorraine had to report to her parole
officer. "It givesme an aUbi," she said. "Just in case the
bulls are wondering where you two come from." These
were the days she didn't ride home with Valentine after
work and "visits to mother" were the excuse the pretty
blonde had been given.
The four of them drove in on that Friday morning and
the boys got out with the admonition that Valentine re-
member to pick them up at the flat. Her parting jest was,
"Do you really think I'd forget about you?"
The car Allie and Tony stole was parked on a side
street in a residential area some eight or ten blocks from
the center of town and they didn't just get in and drive
off. They'd spent over an hour hunting for one with the
ignition key in place and finally, in desperation, they set-
tled for one with the doors unlocked. Tony was the one
who knew how to hook the wires together to make a cir-
cuit without benefit of keys and he spent an anxious five
minutes on the job before they were able to start up and
drive off. Tony took the wheel this time and passed the
revolver to Allie. Another hquor store was the goal any —
liquor store would do as long as it was out from the center,
in one of the neighborhoods. There should only be an oc-
casional passer-by on the sidewalks and very infrequent
customers inside. Liquor stores were best in the morning
when the male population was at work, for women gen-
erally preferred to have the menfolk handle the booze
detail.
The one they picked was called Barber's and it was on
a main drag with a vacant lot on one side and three
shops to the corner on the other.
Tony let Allie off a block away, looked around carefully
and drove on, parking at the curb in front of the next store
in the row. He let the motor idle and took out a nailfile,
which he pretended to busy himself with while keeping an
eye out in front and behind.
Allie sauntered down the block like a man with no par-
ticular aim in mind but he was equally watchful. He noted
the woman with a shopping bag dragging her child out of
the delicatessen on the corner, the three people strolling
on the sidewalk across the street, the moderate traffic in
59
 "

both directions, what the cars were, which were trucks,

that none of them bore the dome hght of a poUce car.
At the door to the store he turned inside. young man A
with curly dark hair gave him a ready smile. "Yes, sir.
What'U it be?"
"What kindda beer ya got?" Allie moved to the counter.
"Ail kinds. What kind d'ya want?"
Allie showed him the gun, holding it close and shielding
it from view from the street. "Open the register and gimme

the bills and you won't get hurt."

The guy said, "What is this, a gag?" but he knew it
wasn't. He said, "Listen, mister
—
Allie thrust the gun a littie. "Ya gonna do what I tell ya
or get shot? Which is it?"
"Yeah. O.K., O.K." The young man's lips were parted
in a garish smile, drawn back hard over white teeth. His
face was ashen and his movements jerky. He punched the
register and the drawer popped wide. He fumbled inside,
thrusting handfuls of bills onto the counter. "Here, here."
He was clumsy and slow and the first two bunches were
ones. Then there were two fives. Allie was frantic. It was
going to be a fiasco. Peanuts was what the guy was hand-
ing out. When Tony robbed a store he got real money.
When Allie tried . "Pull out the goddam trayl" he
. .

snapped. "And you better have something in it!"

The man fumbled again and Allie could have slugged
him with the gun butt. He bulled his way behind the coun-
ter, shoving the dark-haired proprietor aside. The man
could have wrestled for the gun but he only backed up.
Allie yanked out the metal lining and saw the twenties
and tens. The sonuvabitch storekeeper was trying to hold
back on him.
"You bastard," he snarled at the man and made a
threatening move with the gun. Then he grabbed at the
bills. As he did, the wail of a police siren sounded close

by. It was a dying moan, a touch of the button before ar-

rival, and Allie, in instant panic, leaped back around the
counter with the bills tightly clutched, and dashed for the
door.
He got there just as Tony's car jumped from the curb
and screeched around the comer on two wheels. Squealing
to a stop at the same moment, dead in front of the store,
was a green and white squad car, its doors flying open.
60
 Allie reacted without even thinking. He fired once and
the policeman leaping from the car pitched over on his
head. He fired again for good measure at the approximate
spot where the driver should be alighting on the other side,
and then he was off, sprinting for his life across the vacant
lot, his shoulders hunched, his body tensed for the expected
shot in the back.
He rounded the bend on the side street where he was
hidden by houses and raced half the block before he looked
around. There was no squad car coming after him, no cop
giving chase on foot.
He turned at the next comer and ran for another block,
then slowed, panting, to a trot, holding his gun in the
pocket of his jacket. A
car went by the other way but no
pedestrians were on the street.
Another block brought him to a park. He crossed a
stretch of grass, still jogging, then scrambled down an em-
bankment into some woods. He followed a path, crossed a
road, then a bridge over a stream, and eventually came up
another embankment into a different residential section.
He felt fairly safe now, though in the distance he could
hear the sirens starting. Police cars would soon be cours-
ing through the whole area.
By luck a bus was coming along the first main thorough-
fare he hit and he was on board and collecting his wits in
the comfort of a seat in thirty seconds. There was one bad
moment when a poHce car went by and he feared the bus
might be stopped. It was not, however, and the rest of the
trip was routine all tlje way to Lorraine's flat.
Tony wasn't there but Allie didn't worry too much about
that. Tony had the car and the squad car driver couldn't
very well take off after him with a wounded buddy on the
sidewalk. That's what probably discouraged pursuit, he de-
cided. He felt a certain bitterness about the unkind fate
that decreed the arrival of police each time he attempted a
theft while Tony committed crimes with impunity.
The bitternesswas much assuaged, however, by the size
of the haul. Ahundred and seventy-one dollars total. It
wasn't bad for sixty seconds of work, even with the run-
ning thrown in.

61
 Friday Afternoon^ April 26

Tony telephoned the flat at quarter past five. "Hey, Kid.

Jesus, I didn't know if anybody'd answer the phone or not.
You all right?"
Relief swept over Allie. He'd been worrying more and
more about Tony. "Sure. I'm great. about you? How
Where are you?"
"The railroad station. Listen. You get anything outta
that liquor store? You got any dough?"
"A hundred and seventy-one bucks."
"Swell.Look, I'm sorry I couldn't wait for ya. I
couldn'tta done no good. I didn't have no gun. Anyhow,
get over to the station and take the next train for New
York. I'll meet you at the information booth in Grand
Central. I ain't gonna wait on accountta it's best if we
don't travel together."
"What're we going to New York for?"
"We gotta blow town for a few days."
"How come?"
"Lorraine says so and she knows this burg. I give her a
call."
"You mean just because we knocked over another liquor
store?"
Tony laughed with genuine mirth. "God, Kid, you slay
me. You're terrific! You get caught in the act, you're out-
numbered two to one, so you blow down two bulls with
one shot each and ya think nothing of it. Jesus, what a
sport!"
Allie went weak all over. "You mean I — ^you mean
they're dead?"
"Deader'n mackerels. It's all over the papers. The first
one you got in the gut and the second one, behind the
car, you got him in the neck. Where the hell did you learn
to shoot like that? Bang, bang and you pick 'em both off!
I never heard of such shooting!"
Tony's voice held new respect and it wasn't lost on
Allie. Despite the numbing horror at what he'd done, he
could feel a little glow of pride. With the chips down he
62
came through even better than he knew. "It was them or
me," he said into the phone.
"Jesus, you got poise, Kid. I mean it. I sure knew
what was doing when I let you hook up with me."
I
"Yeah, but what's this about New York?"
"Two dead cops, that's what. And that storekeeper gave
a good description. Every bull in this town is out hunting
and they got orders to shoot first. They're dragging in
every guy who's got a record. They're picking up every-
body off the street they don't like the looks of. Lorraine
says they'll probably pull her in for questions and she
don't want us nowhere around. You caused quite a stir in
this burg with those two bullets. You got it made big!"
"Yeah." Allie wasn't happy about making it big. He'd
have been more than content with the little stuff. Now they
were really after him. "Where the hell did them cops come
from anyhow?"
"They were laying for us. They were onto our pattern
and they started staking out the places they figured we'd
hit. When they spotted the car we stole, that was it. So it's
time to clear out till the heat's off. You think you can
make it to the station without getting picked up?"
"I'll make it all right, somehow. Are they watching the
station?"
"I can't tell. There may be some plainclothesmen around
but I don't fit guy give of
the description the liquor store
you and nobody's looked at me. I'd change my clothes if
I was you and whatever you do, stash the rod."
"Maybe Valentine can- drive me to another town."
"Frig that. I don't want her getting mixed up in this.
Leave her a note that we got called away on business and
take off. I'll see you in Grand Central, but watch yourself."
Allie hung up and slumped down onto the couch feeling
shghtly sick. Until this moment, somehow, it hadn't all
seemed real. Stealing was a game, a harmless game in
which the burglar matched wits with the owner. It was all
pretty much in fun and the stakes weren't high. First it
had been cigarettes and candy bars from the stores, later
small amounts of cash; but nobody got hurt. The owners
never missed what was taken. As he grew older the hauls
got bigger but Allie had dehberately bUnded himself to the
fact that now the owners were being hurt. Several hundred
dollars was a lot to him but he stiU considered it small

63
pickings to a storekeeper. They all had insurance anyway,
or they ought to.
Even when the grocery man died of a heart attack it
hadn't seemed serious. The law would say so but it was
obvious the guy was ready to go any moment. It was just
—
accident just one of those things.
Now, though, he couldn't kid himself any longer. He
had shot at and killed two men. It was no longer a game
for petty stakes. Cops were at this moment scouring the
town for him and every one of them carried a gun. It
wasn't arrest he had to fear —
capture and return to the
penitentiary in Indiana. He could be killed. He was only
twenty-two years old and he could be killed any day. He
—
might never live to be twenty-five or even twenty-three.
By the simple act of pulling the trigger that morning he
might have used up most of his life. And there was no
saying he didn't mean it. When the cops got him in their
sights they weren't going to ask about intent.
He got up to shake off the morbidity that was pressing
in on him and stalked into Lorraine's room, throwing him-
self on the bed. All right. If that was the way it was go-
ing to be . . "Big time", Tony had told him. Every cop
.

in the city was out looking for him. That was big time all
right. How many crooks ever had a whole city-wide search
going on for them at one time? Well, a big-time operator
didn't blubber around about not meaning to do anything
bad. So the cops had been staking out the neighborhood
liquor stores just lying in wait for him, had they? Well,
now they knew they weren't up against any small potatoes.
They probably thought he'd drop his gun and faint the
moment he saw the blue of their uniforms. They'd know
better next time. And as for catching him in the railroad
station or any other place, fat chance. He was no scared
kid any more. Only one thing. No matter what Tony said,
he wasn't going anywhere without that gun!
There was a click and the apartment door opened. Allie
sprang to his feet, one hand in his jacket pocket gripping
the revolver's butt, already as if from habit. Then he heard
the clack of familiar heels and he gently relaxed. He sat
down on the bed again and grinned as Valentine came to
the door.
Valentine, pert and pretty and always smiling, said, "Hi.
You and Tony ready?"
64
 Allie had to admire the way she filled out a blouse.
Physically she was stacked. Mentally, though, she was as
guileless and innocent as a child. Her face had the same
disarming frankness, the same untroubled look. Valentine
never had problems. Valentine went blithely through life
with the happiness of a tot with a toy. She was never sour
in the morning, like Lorraine; she was never cranky at
night, and she could never understand why others might
be.
Allie smiled back at her. He couldn't help it. "Tony
ain't here."
She looked around as if not believing him and advanced
a little. "How come?"
"He had to go outta town on business. I gotta go too."
"When're you coming back?"
"In a few days. We won't be gone long."
She looked around again to make sure. "And he's al-
ready gone?"
"Uh-huh."
She came closer and studied him. "What're you so pale
about? You sick or something?"
"No. I'm fine."
"Is Lorraine coming?"
"Not here. She's going home on the bus."
They looked at each other, she standing, he sitting. Sud-
denly she laughed. "You look like a little boy who's scared
of something. Are you scared of something, Allie?"
"Not a thing."
"Sure now? Honest Injun?"
He reached for her hand and drew her down beside him
on the bed. "Look in rny eyes. Look deep." He put his
hand on her knee. "Do my eyes look scared?"
She looked at them and smiled. "They look pretty."
"So do yours."
She regarded him quizzically. "You're funny."
Hepushed his hand under her skirt. "Funny? How?"
"I don't know. All kind of wild and reckless. I've never
seen you wild and reckless."
He advanced his hand but the skirt was starting to bind.
He said, "Do you like me that way? Wild and reckless?"
She laughed. "I like you any old way, so there." She
looked around again. "You're sure nobody's coming? I
mean Tony or Lorraine?"
65
 "Tony's on the train already and Lx)rraine's off visiting
her mother."
Valentine eased her skirt so it didn't bind and the sky-
rockets went off in Allie's head. He thrust her down on the
bed and kissed and pawed her uncontrollably, stirred by
emotions he had never felt with Lorraine.
She locked her arms around his neck and strained
against him. Her voice was husky, eager and frantic. "Un-
dress me."

April 26 through May 2

Tony and Allie spent four days in the big city and Allie
would have liked it to continue. They had a room in a
cheap hotel on the outskirts of Harlem and spent much of
their time with a couple of Puerto Rican girls they picked
up. The one Allie had couldn't make him forget the pic-
ture of Valentine as he had last seen her, naked and
drowsily fulfilled on the bed, but she appealed to him a
good deal more than Lorraine. Now that he was gaining
experience with other girls he was less and less satisfied
with the first.
He dreaded going back to her sharp tongue and the con-
stant conflict she generated. He resented the smothered
feeling she gave him —
as if he were some personal pos-
session she doted on —
and he longed to be free. More than
once he suggested to Tony that they never go back, raising
the arguments of the hunt, the trap, the needless risk.
Tony merely shrugged at first and seemed almost amena-
ble but as the second day turned into the third he began to
talk of Valentine and his longing for her increased with
the hours. Allie, treading carefully, tried to point up her
faults. After all, wasn't she a pushover? If she'd spend the
night with him on a two-hour acquaintanceship, wouldn't
she with others? What about the salesman from Hartford
Tony had stolen her from? What did Tony think she and
the guy would've been doing in his new Oldsmobile if he
hadn't come along?
It was a fruitless effort for Tony cared nothing about
her virtue. He just wanted to be around her. "I ain't never
66
 about a dame before," he confessed, "but she
felt like this
sure does things to me." And he even said, "Hey, Allie,
do you suppose I could be in love? Is that what love is?"
Whatever it was, Tony couldn't stay away and on the
morning of the fourth day he called Lorraine at the laun-
dromat to find how things were. The heat wasn't off, she
told him, but it had slackened and she thought it would be
safe. That was all Tony needed and he and Allie were on
the noon train back to Pittsfield.
Lorraine was back living in the flat again for appear-
ance's sake but that wasn't the real change that had taken
place during their absence. She didn't mention it on the
phone, nor when she got home from work. She waited till
Tony began to fret and then she told him. Valentine was
gone.
He neariy exploded. "Gone! Gone where?"
"Home. At least that's where she said she was going."
"Home?" He grabbed for the phone. "You mean Ber-
nice? What the hell is her number?"
Lorraine was very cool about it all. "I don't mean Ber-
nice. I mean back to her folks, wherever that is."
"Albany? She can't do that," he roared. "She wouldn'tta
done a thing like that." He was on his feet now, turning
accusingly, and his wrath was dangerous. "You left her a
note, didn't you, AUie?"
Allie nodded.
"You told her I'd be coming back, didn't you?"
Allie nodded again. ^.

"Sure he did," Lorraine said. "And he left her fifty

bucks. Ain't that right?"
Allie nodded once more.
"He took care of her fine."
*Then was you," Tony said, turning on the girl. "You
it

chased her home. You never did like her. You made her
go!"
He advanced threateningly but Lorraine came to her
feet and met him halfway. "It wasn't me, you slob. You
want to know who made her go? You really want to know?
It was you. That's who it was. You!"
"You're a liar, you frigging bitch!"
"Am I?" She whirled and snatched a four-day-old paper
from the table. "Look at that. Read that." She held it in
front of his face and slapped it. "Two cops murdered. Read
67
 ""

the description of Allie. There it is, right there in the

paper as big as life, what he looks like, what he was wear-
ing. And read about Allie's accomplice, the guy in the car
who fled. They didn't get your description but even Valen-
tine wasn't so stupid she couldn't guess who that was!"
Tony recoiled as if he'd been bludgeoned. He sank onto
the couch. "Oh, Jesus, Jesus," he moaned, running his
hands through his hair. "What'm I gonna do?"
"Do? You're gonna forget the tramp. She walked out on
you and you're gonna forget her. You ain't gonna take
that lying down!"
"Maybe she didn't really go home. Maybe she went back
to Bernice. If I called Bemice —
"You're wasting your time," Lorraine said bitteriy. "I'm
telling ya she packed everything she had and threw it in
the car and said she was going back to her home town
and start over."
"Maybe I can find out where she is. I'll make it up to
her."
"You can't. How're ya gonna make up murder to some
dame? She knows what you are now and she wants no part
of you. That's what she told me. She was bawling and she
said she wished she'd never met you."
Tony shook his head in despair. "What'm I gonna do,
Allie?"
Allie didn't tell him then. He waited till the next day
when Lorraine was off at work. "Boston," he said. "Re-
member? You got friends in Boston."
It didn't take right then. Tony had no interest in any-
thing but Valentine and that day and the next he moped
around the flat, his conversation primarily limited to, "If
we'd only played it different —
Allie watched him carefully, waiting for the pinch of
funds or the passage of time to turn Tony's thought to
other things and he didn't mention Boston again. In time
they'd go there, preferably without announcement to Lor-
raine. Some morning they'd up and take off while she was
at work and then he'd be free. He might leave a good-by
message, possibly, but nothing would be said to her in
person lest she try to keep them there.
Lorraine, however, was watching Tony too and her tim-
ing was better. The third night after their return Tony be-
gan to get restless, to pace, to grumble and to^ swear. That
68
 "

was when she looked away from the television and said,
"How much dough ya got, Tony?"
"I dunno. Who the hell cares?"
"Pretty soon you gotta think about getting some. You
think about that?"
"Why don't you shut your ugly face?"
Allie had stopped watching television the moment the
firstwords were spoken. "That's one thing," he said. "We
can't do nothing in this town no more."
"You can't stick up liquor stores," Lorraine agreed. "But
that's chicken feed. It's about time you graduated into the
big time —
made some real dough."
"Yeah," Tony said. "There're some guys I know in Bos-
ton know how to operate. When I get ready
—
"They operate?" Lorraine interrupted. "And what do you
do, get paid off in loose change?"
"They pay off in centuries. Don't give me that 'loose
change' crap! They're big time."
"Sure, big time, only you gotta split and, 'cause you're
new, you get the leavings. I ain't talking centuries. I'm talk-
ing grands. Twenty-five grand, maybe more."
"You're talking through your frigging hat."
"The hell I am. I know how the three of us could clear
a cool hundred grand. Tax free."
A appeared in Tony's eye and Allie's heart sank.
flicker
He didn't need a third share of a hundred thousand dol-
lars, not if he had to stay with Lorraine for it. "What're ya
talking about?" Tony said.
"A hundred thousand fish. I'm talking^ about something
big."
"Which bank do we rob, you'n me and Allie?"
"We don't steal it. We get A hundred
it given to us.
thousand in unmarked bills."
She had his attention now and Tony stopped pacing.
"By who?"
"The rich father of some kid."
"Kidnapping?" He took up the pacing again. "You're
outta your mind."
"It's a quick easy way to make money."
"Easy is it?" Tony's voice came up."With the Feds on
your neck? God, if you ain't the dumbest goddam
bitch I ever saw."
69
 Lorraine was unmoved. "That's the trouble with you
small-time operators," she said. "You think the FBI is
Superman or something. Just whisper 'J. Edgar Hoover'
to you and you turn to water."
Tony raised his arm. "I oughtta belt your ugly face in."
"If you'd listen insteadda talking you might learn some-
thing, Big Shot."
"Yeah? All right, talk, if you know so much."
"Sure I'll talk. You're wanted for murder, ain't you?
If you get caught anywhere, any time, it's the chair.
Right?"
"Nobody's gonna catch me."
"No? So how'reya gonna live? You gonna hide out here
for the next fifty years? You gotta get dough, don't ya?
How'reya gonna do it? Go to work? What at? Who with?
How long d'ya think you'd last before the cops found
you on the job?"
"Who says I'm gonna go to work?"
"All right, so you go on knocking off liquor stores,
town to town across the country. What's that gonna get
ya? Every time you hold up a place you increase the
chances of getting caught. And what'reya running all this

risk for?The few measly bucks in some guy's till? It's

only a question of time till you get it. was damn

It
near the time last week. So a smart guy would figure a
one-shot operation that pays off big is best all around.
There's less chance of getting caught and the dough is

worth the risk. If you're gonna gamble your life you

might as well make it pay. You make a big killing and
you're set up. Then it's Mexico or South America and
you're home free."
"You make it sound so easy, don'tcha? It's so easy
everybody's doing it."
"It ain't easy. Like holding up liquor stores it's a risk.
But your neck's in a noose anyhow so what've ya got to
lose? That's the difference between you and the next guy.
For him, a liquor store is jail but kidnapping is death.
For you, everything's death! You'd be a cluck to put that
big a stake in the pot for what you can get outta some
punk's cash register."
Tony sat down on the couch. The scowl hadn't left
his face but he was listening. "So, ya gotsomebody in
70
mind happens own a hundred thousand smackers and
to
has a kid worth that much to him to get back?"
it's

"Yeah. It just so happens I do. Wait a second." She

went into the bedroom and returned with the week-old
newspaper that reported the cop murders. "It just so hap-
pens."
Tony grinned. It was wry, but it was the first grin since
Valentine's departure. "It just so happens, huh? It just so
happens you didn't just get this idea out of the blue sky."
"That's right. While you're living it up in New York,
or moping over some bleached blonde tramp, I been
think—"
Tony came off the couch and backhanded Lorraine
across the face. "Listen, you bitch," he said in fury, "if
you ever say a word against Valentine again, I'll break
you in two!"
Lorraine staggered back two steps and regained her
balance. A red welt began forming along her jaw. She
swallowed and said, "O.K., I didn't mean nothing." She
went on in a subdued voice, "I mean I just been think-
ing. You come home here and you gotta do something.
You can't just grieve all day. And you gotta get dough.
So take a look here on the front page. See this? 'Partridge
Named Chairman of MacAllister Products'?"
Tony looked. "Yeah? So? That kindda stuff's in the
paper all the time."
"That's right. Now read down here. *. . . annual salary
of $100,000 a year.'"
"O.K., O.K. So?" /
"So see the first sentence? 'Kenneth R. Partridge of Cob-
bler's Lane, Stockford', and so forth?"
"Yeah, yeah. What about it?"
Lorraine turned to an inside page and put her finger on
a one-column cut of a pretty blonde girl under the heading,
"Named Prom Queen". Beneath the picture the caption
read, "Susan Partridge, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Kenneth
R. Partridge of Cobbler's Lane, Stockford, has been elected
Queen of the forthcoming Pittsfield College for Women
Junior Prom next Friday. Miss Partridge, an honor student
and a Junior Phi Beta Kappa, was selected from a field
of five contestants in voting held yesterday."
Lorraine slapped her hand on the picture. "There's the
71
child," she said and flipped the paper back to slap the
front page. "And there's where the money's coming from.
There's the rich fatherl"

Friday J May 5

Nothing more was said about Lorraine's idea until the fol-
lowing day and then it was Allie who brought up the sub-
ject. Tony was lost in thought a good part of the after-
noon and Allie was disturbed. "You ain't taking that
dame seriously, are you?" he finally asked.
Tony looked up. "What? What about?"
"That stupid kidnapping idea. Can't you tell she's only
dreaming it up to try to keep us here? Why don't we
hght out for Boston like we should?"
"A hundred grand ain't to be sneezed at. Kid."
"You ain't gonna get a hundred grand and you know it.
We can't pull no job like that. How would you do it,

huh? Y'ever thought about that?"

"Sure thought about it," Tony snapped. "I know it
I
can't go, same
as you, but it won't hurt none to hang
around a couple more days and see if Lorraine's got an
idea or is just making noise with her mouth."
The matter didn't come up again until after supper when
the three were sitting around the living room. For once
no one turned on the TV and it was apparent to all that
something was in the air. Tony broached it first. "We
ain't here for our health," he said. "When're ya gonna tell
us all about this great kidnapping you got planned?"
Lorraine was cool. "When you get around to asking."
"All right. Tm asking."
"The plan is to snatch the girl and hold up her old man
for a hundred grand."
"Just like that, huh?"
"Not quite. That's just the basic idea."
"O.K., so that's the basic idea. You thought about
how you're gonna make it work?"
"Sure. We find out the girl's habits, pick the spot to
make the grab, and make it."
"You make me laugh."
72
 "So laugh."
"Hah, hah. Listen, cluck, there are about ten million
little details you're overlooking. What do we pick her up

in? Where do we hide her? How do we contact her folks?

How do we pick up the dough when it's ready? Or maybe
you ain't thought about those little items."
Lorraine drew herself up. "All right, Big Shot, if you
want to consider the matter seriously, we can go into
Otherwise, forget it."
it.

"Seriously?" Tony snorted. "How'm I supposed to take

some crackpot scheme seriously until you show me I
should?"
"What's so crackpot about pulling a snatch? A lotta
people've made a lotta dough doing it."
"Yeah, but they had something to work with —a car
for instance."
"A truck is better, especially if it has to be done in
broad daylight."
"All right, a truck. So whatta we do about that, steal
one?"
"Rent one."
"Who's gonna rent it? Allie or me? And what do we
do for driver's licenses, huh? You gotta show a driver's
license when you rent something. What're we supposed to
do, forge them?'*
"I've got a driver's license."
"You?"
tell you I used to drive for my brother?
"Sure. Didn't I
I'lldo the renting when the time comes."
Tony mulled that over while he shook out a cigarette.
When he spoke his voice was less leering. "We'd have
to get a line on the girl. We gotta have a plan, you know."
"That's right. She lives on Cobbler's Lane in Stockford.
A street map will show us where that is. And we know she
goes to the Pittsfield College for Women. That's right in
town here. All we have to do is look that place up in
the phone book."
"So how do we get hold of her if she's on a campus
somewheres?"
"We've got her picture from the paper, right? We know
what she looks like. We start watching places and pretty
soon we'll begin to learn things about her. We'll see
73
 "

her. We'll follow her. We'll find out where she goes and
when —
"And pretty soon," Tony said sourly, "she discovers she's
being watched and she whistles 'police' and Allie and me
get picked up."
"We do it in relays," Lorraine said. "If you're good,
she ain't gonna tumble."
"Remember," Tony said, "every cop in this damned
burg is looking for us. If a cop even just sees us, or
if she just mentions being suspicious or something, you

know what happens to us? We're up for murder."

"So," sneered Lorraine. "What'reya gonna do, hide the
rest of your life? You don't pick a hundred grand off
trees. Ya gotta take some risks for it. If you're any
good, the risk is pretty little. So whattaya wantta do?"
"All right. Brain. You're doing the talking. Then what?"
"We start off with a car. We gotta have a car to get
around. Once we find out who she is and begin to get a line
on her, then we can follow her pretty good. When we got
her habits pinpointed enough, then we decide the time and
the spot to make the grab. That's when I rent a truck.
It'll be just a panel truck. I'll drive and you'n Allie
will be in the back. You two grab the girl when it's time
and off we go. If we do it right, nobody knows any-
thing'shappened."
"So we got her. Then what?"
"We send a message to her old man."
"Who writes the message?"
"We do. We cut the words out of a newspaper and
paste them on a blank sheet of paper —
and we wear gloves,
Then we mail him the message with a piece of the girl's
clothing to show we ain't kidding about having her. What
we've got on the message is a fancy symbol we make up so
he'll know all messages that have that symbol come
from us. And the message tells him to call off the cops
and to get up a hundred grand and we give him maybe
three days. Then we send him another message with the
same symbol and this tells him how he's gonna get the
dough to us."
"Yeah. Just how're we gonna work that?"
"I ain't figuring that till we know what we're up
against. That's always the danger point in a kidnapping
74
 "

because we gotta show ourselves to pick up the bundle and

I'm gonna do that part real careful."
"O.K., so we figure a way to get the ransom dough,
but what about that panel truck? Suppose we get seen
pulHng the snatch. Suppose the cops are looking for the
truck? Then they'll find out it was rented to you."
Lorraine said wearily, "Relax, will ya? That's my de-
partment and you can bet nobody's gonna trace it to us.
When the hell do you think I was born, anyhow?"
"And what about the dame? We're gonna have to feed
her and keep her someplace and we sure as hell can't
keep her here. Of course there's the house we got rented
and we could maybe use that but that ain't the only prob-
lem. You got it figured how we're gonna keep her three or
four days or however long it's gonna take without her get-
ting a look at us?"
"Yes."
"Masks, huh? But suppose it turns out we gotta make the
snatch in daylight. What then? You gonna have us all
wear masks when we grab her? And what about our
voices? Even if she didn't see us she'd know our voices.
Or maybe we're just supposed to use sign language, huh?"
"It don't matter whether she sees us or not."
"Not much it don't. The second she gets home she's
goima tell the cops. That is, if the cops ain't in it from
the start."
"Maybe she don't tell the cops."
Tony's voice grew sneering again. "Whattaya gonna
do, make her promise?"
Lorraine matched his tone. "She can't spill her guts to
the cops till she gets home, can she?"
"So?"
"So who says she's going home?"
*They pay the ransom —
"That's right, but they don't get no girl back."
"How come?"
"Jesus Christ! Because there ain't no girl, Stupid. Be-
cause she's deadl"

75
 "

Friday Night

There was complete silence in the room for a number of

seconds following Lorraine's bombshell. Allie stared at
Tony and Tony stared at Lorraine. Finally he said, "Well,
Jesus, if you ain't something!"

"Something?" Lorraine snapped irritably. "Whattaya

talking about?"
"You're just gonna kill her in cold blood? Is that what
you're figuring?"
"That's right."
"Jesus Christ!" He turned and said almost questioningly,
"How about that, Allie?"
Allie shifted uncomfortably. "I think we oughtta for-
get the whole thing. I think
—
Lorraine glared at him angrily. "What're you chickening
out for? You're the one who blew down two cops with
two shots. And what about the old guy with the bad
heart? You're a triple-murderer, God damn it. Both of you
are! You been knocking off guys right and left and
now, all a sudden, you're getting squeamish."
of
Allie said, "Yeah, but that was accidental. I mean I
wasn't trying to kill anybody."
"You weren't trying, huh? What were you pointing the
gun at them cops for? What did you pull the trigger for?
Maybe you goddam gun was loaded, huh?"
didn't think the
Allie bit his lip. He
found it difficult to express him-
self. "I hardly knew what I was doing," he said.
Tony laughed. He clapped his knee. "Jesus," he said to
Lorraine. "You sure are one cold-blooded bitch. You're
all right, and then some!"
Charlie's sister
"Aah," sneered Lorraine. "I shouldda known you didn't
have the guts. A couple of punks. You ain't gonna shoot
nobody lessen it's for peanuts. Put a big job in your lap
and your guts turn to water. You ain't never gonna go
no place, neither of you. You ain't got what it takes.
Those pals of yours up in Boston, they'll laugh at you
wanting to join up with them. They'd keep you just long
76
enough to have you fold up the minute they say some-
body needs to be rubbed out."
Allie said, "Listen, it's one thing to kill somebody when
they're trying to do something to you. That ain't so bad.
That ain't like picking up some young kid and deliberately
putting her to death."
"You try to tell 'em in court there's a difference. You do
that when they catch you and stick you up in that wit-
ness chair for being a cop-killer. See what it'll get ya."
Tony said, "Nuts to that. There gonna be no wit-
ain't
ness chair for either of us. Ever."
Lorraine sneered. "That's a typical punk talking. You
ain't never gonna get caught. You're too smart! Half the
jobs you've pulled you've got caught at. It wasn't brains,
it was just luck you got away. Even with your jailbreak.
It was my brother planned that one or you'd still be
sitting there, rotting in your cell. Don't try to kid me.
Big Shot. You ain't backing away from the kidnapping idea
on accountta you got a soft heart. Nobody's got a hun-
dred thousand bucks' worth of soft heart only soft head. —
You're backing away 'cause you figure it's too big to
handle. You ain't got enough brains to manage it."
Tony's eyes grew cold. "You run off at the mouth too
much, Bitch. You're nothing but talk and I don't like the
talk."
"That's right. Sure you don't. It's not that you ain't got
the stomach. It's that you ain't got the brains and you
don't like me being wise to you."
"I got brains," Tony snarled. He waved a finger. "And
don't go telling me was Charlie's plan for breaking out-
it

ta jail. He had the idea but it was me who carried it

through. And when I got out, I stayed out. Them other
two, they were picked up lessen twenty-four hours later.
But Allie and me, we made it good. That's brains, you
bitch, brains and guts together."
"Brains and guts together? But when you got a chance
for something really big you ain't got neither. Where'd all
your brains and guts go to, huh? Tell me that. Big Shot."
Tony nearly came to his feet, his face livid. "Any more
cracks about my and I'll cram your teeth
brains. Bitch,
down into your frigging stomach."
"That would take a lotta brains, that would."
77
 " .

"Aah," Tony said, letting himself back in his seat.

"You ain't worth the trouble."
"Neither is the hundred grand. That right?"
"Aah. You and your hundred grand. You talk big
but you ain't said nothing."
"I told you how to get it."
"You ain't begun to tell us."
"Yeah? Whattaya want to know? You ask me and I'll
tell you."
"All right, go ahead. Spill your guts. Let's hear the whole
thing. Let's hear all about this big plan of yours, the
Crime of the Century!"
Lorraine sat up. "O.K.," she said and there was a glitter
in her eyes. "First you dye your hair. You and the kid
dye your hair blond. Next I buy a cheap secondhand car,
see? Then we start exploring. We find out where this
Cobbler's Lane is where the twist lives. Then we see what
the place looks like —
how big, how many cars they got,
how many people are around. And we go look up this
Pittsfield College for Women and find out where that is
and how much of it there is. We find out whether this
dame lives there or commutes or what the hell she
does. We get her spotted and then we watch her. We
watch everything she does. If she goes to the movies, one
of us goes to the movies and sits behind her. If she goes to
a bar, one of us is in the next booth. As much as pos-
sible we don't let her see us, as much as possible we
switch around. And as much as possible we keep an eye
on her.
"So, pretty soon we know a lot about her. We know her
habits. We know her Everybody behaves by
patterns.
pattern. That's one of the first things you gotta know to
be successful. That's how Charlie and me used to work.
We study the guy's pattern and then we know when to
make our move.
"Once we have her pattern down, then we can start
planning where and when we're gonna interrupt it. When
we're ready, we put the car away and hire a panel truck.
We use that for the snatch, me driving, you two in back
with her where nobody can see. We drive to a pre-
determined spot and dump her and I return the truck
—
"Hold it, Bright Girl. Go back to the dumping. You
gonna have me or Allie shoot her? Which one?"
78
 "If you're chicken, I'll do it. I ain't afraid."
"I ain't afraid either. Don't go suggesting I'm scared of
something 'cause I'm not."
Lorraine barely hid a sneer. "Then we dump her. We
dump her where she ain't gonna be found and we take
back the truck and we come back here and send out the
first note. That's the one that's got a piece of her dress in

it and once that's in the mail we got nothing of hers

around us atall. We're back here and the cops could

comb the place and they wouldn't find nothing to tie us in
with the kidnapping. Not so much as a hair of the girl's
head. That's why we get rid of her. Now do you get it?
We're in the clear. We don't even have the ransom
notes on accountta we only paste them together when we're
ready to send them out. So all we gotta do is wait a
couple of days for the old man to get the dough to-
gether, pick it up and clear out"
"Clear out where?"
"Clear outta the country is best."
"Outta the country, huh? How're we gonna do that
without passports?"
"Ain't you got no connections? Never mind. I can get
passports made to order for all of us. Then we ship out
to a place where they ain't got no extradition and live like
kings for the rest of our Uves."
"How much are them passports gonna cost?"
"Depends on how much the guy thinks we need 'em and
how much dough he thinks we got. With a good sob story
I can probably get 'em for five C's. If he thinks we're
loaded it might be five G's."
"And we all end up with thirty-three G's apiece, huh?
That ain't gonna last no lifetime."
"It'llgo a long way in them South American countries."
"Yeah? Well I think we oughtta demand two hundred
G's. If he can raise one hundred he can raise two."
Lorraine smiled faintly. She threw him a crumb. "May-
be he could. His house is probably worth a hundred
grand."
"That's right. If you're gonna do something, do it

big! I don't go for no penny-ante stuff. Ain't that right,

Allie?"
Allie, who didn't look particularly happy about things,
nodded. "Yeah, Tony."
79
 Lorraine stood up. "Well, are we in? Are we gonna make
ourselves a bundle? Are we gonna get rich or not?"
Tony said, "Well, it won't hurt to look around a lit-
tle —see what the chances are."
"You'd better get your mind pretty well made up on
accountta we're gonna have to get me a car."
"We?"
"We're in it together. Everything gets split. One third,
one third, one third. And that means expenses too.
Agreed?"
—
Tony said, "Agreed at least to looking the situation
over."
"How about you, Allie?"
and Lorraine gave him a nudge. "Re-
Allie bit his lip
member there's a price on your head. If you ever hope
to get away it's gonna take dough."
"I don't see why we have to kill the girl," he blurted out.
"It's her or you, Allie. Can't you see that? If you get a
big haul you got a chance to live. If you don't, you're
deader'n a mackerel. It's gotta be done or there ain't
gonna be no Allie much longer and you're too cute to
die."
Allie said, "Whatever Tony wants is O.K. with me, I
guess."
Tony beamed. "That's the way, Kid. It's you'n me. All
the way."
"And me," said Lorraine with finaUty. "We'll shake on
it"

Monday, May 6-Saturday, May ii

The car was an eight-year-old sedan that burned a quart

of with each tank of gas but it ran well on that
oil
diet and the tires still had a lot of tread. Lorraine kept it
parked on the street and she continued to use the public
transportation system to and from work. The car was,
they all agreed, strictly a tool in the proposed kidnap-
ping.
They took it out for a test ride the second night she
bad it and, though it hadn't been their goal, the town of
80
Stockford, a dozen miles to the south, drew them like a
magnet. They got their first look at it just before dusk
and when Lorraine bought a street map and they picked out
Cobbler's Lane, they went up there. It was south of the
down Meadow Street past
center, the factory district until
Meadow became Lake Avenue. A fork to the left brought
them onto High Ridge Road, which wound and cHmbed
through woods to the crest of a ridge near the southern
boundary of the town. The road ended at the summit in a
large graveled parking area with pubHc picnic grounds
and a view all the way to the Sound. On the left,
protected by "private road" and "dead end" signs, lay
Cobbler's Lane.
Allie had misgivings about going further when he saw
the signs. An invasion of the road might bring police, he
feared, but Lorraine and Tony only laughed and went
ahead. Cobbler's Lane separated the homes from the ridge
and they rode the length of it to the turnaround at the
end. The Partridge mansion was fifth in the row, marked
by a name sign at the driveway, and they looked it over
carefully in the gathering darkness. There were well-
trimmed hedges and a vast, sloping lawn. The house was
long and low with a three-car garage on the left and it
was a fair guess a swimming pool lay behind for other
pools were visible at the rear of other homes. It was an
estate that looked worth rather more than a hundred thou-
sand dollars and Tony said, "He could raise a lot of
dough on that pad."
On their return, since they were still in the mood, they
drove around Pittsfield and out to the Pittsfield College
for Women on Duncan Street. So far as they could make
out, the college consisted of two buildings that had been
wealthy homes in the latter part of the last century. That
left them puzzled and slightly bewildered. "Where do they
sleep?" Tony wondered and Lorraine found herself ponder-
ing the number of girls in the school. Colleges, she'd
thought, were inhabited by thousands. "Maybe there's more
of it. Maybe these are just offices or something," she
guessed. Of one thing they were sure. A lot of ground-
work would have to be done.
A start was made by setting up a watch on the college.
While Lorraine was at work, Tony, whose hair was now
bleached, and Allie, wearing windowpane glasses and a
81
 blond crewcut, took turns walking by the place. The col-
lege was in a high-class residential district and they
roamed through it in varied routes, circling different
blocks, but always returning to the two large buildings.
Both had memorized the newspaper photo of Susan Par-
tridge and both kept looking for signs of her.
Allie did the chore with a certain reluctance but Tony
was starting to get excited. The hundred thousand dollars
was developing reality to him and he could begin imag-
ining how it would be to have a third share in such a
sum.
The patrols failed to produce any view of the girl
they were after but they did reveal that classes were
held in the two buildings and that the number of students
was small. The Pittsfield College for Women was for a
select number of the intelligent and elite.
Two days of watching produced no sign of Susan, and
Tony was becoming impatient. When a ride around the
area with Lorraine Saturday morning was equally fruit-
less, he started cursing. Lorraine was undisturbed. "Let's
try that lookout point just off Cobbler's Lane," she sug-
gested. "We can spend a couple of hours there watching
the scenery —
meaning who goes in and out of the place."
"Christ," Tony growled. "I want action and she wants
to sit."

There was nothing else to do and it was better than

going home. Lorraine bought sandwiches and drinks at a
delicatessen for a picnic and they made the run down to
Stockford and its Summit Park at noon. Cobbler's Lane
was still forbidding behind its signs but Lorraine swung
into it. "Might's well see if there's a car in the drive."
Daylight made Allie more nervous than ever. "This
jalopy don't look right on this road," he pleaded. "What
if somebody reports us?"
Tony muttered an oath. "You gotta understand peo-
ple. Kid. Act like you belong and there ain't nobody gonna
say boo. Even if they did they wouldn't do more'n tell us
to get out."
They cruised slowly and craned their necks when they
reached the Partridge mansion. A
low green convertible
stood in the drive and Lorraine nodded in satisfaction.
"That's an easy one," she said. "From now on I'll know
82
that car anyw'here. Probably belongs to the girl. You get
the license, Tony?"
"Whattaya think I got, a telescope?"
"See if up on the way back."
you can pick it

"Maybe you want me and go on in there."

to get out
Allie peered too on their return but the car was too far
away. In any event, like Lx)iTaine, he was sure he'd know
it anywhere. That was something at least —
if it did belong

to the girl.

They ate their sandwiches in the parking area across the

road from Cobbler's Lane. Three other cars and half a
dozen people were around but no one paid attention to
the trio who pretended to enjoy the view while directing
surreptitious glances up the empty road.
When the sandwiches were gone, the three wandered a
little for appearance's sake, going to the wall that fronted

the cliff. They peered down its sheer face to the lower
ground some three hundred feet beneath, and stared off to
the south where, on clearer days, one could see sunlight
gUstening on the Sound. They smoked, they tossed pebbles
and they pointed out the sights, but always they had one
eye on Cobbler's Lane.
By half pasttwo there were ten cars around and at
least twenty-five people. Three carshad entered or left
Cobbler's Lane but none were green convertibles and none
were driven by pretty young college girls with blonde hair.
Tony flicked away still another cigarette and swore. He
scufifed his feet and shook himself. An ice cream truck
swung in from High Ridge Road and he struck his fore-
head. "What the hell kind of a deal is this?" he snapped.
"What the hell are we doing here?"
Lorraine was getting edgy too with all the people
around. "We're setting up a watch," she muttered through
clenched teeth. "What kind of an operator are you sup-
posed to be? Ain't you got no finesse?"
"Either you do something or you don't do it. I don't like
this frigging waiting."
"Two-bit punk," Lorraine muttered, but she didn't let
him hear her.
Then Allie whispered, "Here she comes!" and the others
turned quickly. The green convertible was approaching
fast.
"That's her," Lorraine said and went for the car with-
83
out waiting to see who was behind the wheel. Tony and
Aliie moved with equal speed.- They scrambled into the
back seat and craned.
The green convertible took the comer no more than
fifty feet away. The tires squealed and the rear wheels
slued as the car shot off. Agirl was driving all right. She
had a red and white polka-dot bandanna around her head
but the hair that showed was honey-colored and there was
no doubt in the minds of the three who she was.
Lorraine already had the motor started and she
screeched the brakes backing out and turning around.
"Why don't you yell it out to the world?" Tony snapped
as they took off in pursuit with a shower of kicking peb-
bles and a spin of wheels. "Why don't you tell everybody
we're chasing that car? Christ, you're as subtle as a frig-
ging hammer."
"You want us to lose her? Is that what you want?"
"I don't want to broadcast we're interested."
The convertible was long gone from sight and they went
careening down the hill and around the curves after
it, narrowly missing one oncoming car, having to brake

hard for another. There was one thing about Lorraine. She
could handle a car. When Charlie picked her as his driver
he knew what he was doing.
Despite their speed, they didn't even catch a glimpse of
their quarry until a straight stretch opened briefly and
then it was only as she flashed out of sight around the
farther bend. The girl in the convertible could handle a car
too and she was in an equal hurry.
They didn't pick her up again until they broke out onto
Lake Avenue and then she was two hundred yards ahead
and opening the distance. Lorraine rammed down the ac-
celerator and when they rounded the next bend and got
her in sight again they were holding their own but not
gaining.
The brake lights of the convertible flared red and the
car slowed behind another, then shot out and around when
the way was clear. Lorraine was less fortunate. She got
trapped behind the slow car by oncoming traffic and on the
next straight stretch they could see the rear of the green
car receding in the distance. Lorraine and Tony swore
blue obscenities and Allie sat on the edge of his seat.
He was tense but he didn't know whether he hoped they'd
84
lose the car or catch it. He decided inwardly that he
wanted the latter for he found himself urging the car
forward when Lorraine finally pulled out and squeezed
quickly between the car in front and a honking oncomer.
They opened up again but the convertible was already
around the next bend and it was still a distant blob of
color when they caught their next sight of it.

"What's she got, ants in her goddam pants?" Lorraine

snarled in frustration.
"Push her down to the floor," Tony snapped.
"Ya want this damned thing to fall apart? You want a
police siren in your ears? We can't take that dame's
chances. We got our names on police blotters."
By the time they rounded the curve where Lake Avenue
became Meadow Street the girl had put two cars between
them but she was slowed behind a third. They were getting
into the town now and traffic was thicker.
A black poUce car came upon them from the opposite
direction. It was cruising along, just circulating, but its
sudden appearance made Tony and Allie gasp. Lorraine
braked the sedan gently and said, "See? Suppose I'd been
doing sixty 1"
Neither of the other two answered. They didn't stop
staring and craning till the police car was out of sight.
Lorraine caught the girl at the traffic light at Center
Street. Only the two cars were between them and there
was no trouble following the girl around the comer and
to a side street not far from the green. She cruised slowly,
looking for a parking spot, and Lorraine's jalopy was right
behind. The girl found one and Lorraine went around her
as she backed. "Tony, see where she's going while I park
the heap."
Tony leaped out when they rounded the next comer
and Lorraine and AlHe found a place to leave the car in
the next block. They walked back together and Allie
found himself having to push a little to keep up with Lor-
raine's strides. Her face was hewn and there was a bright-
ness in her eyes which was almost frightening. It made
him wish once more that Tony would quit her and get
them both away.
They rounded the corner onto the street where the girl
had parked and Lorraine's eyes roved narrowly, taking in
the surroundings. It was a shabby location of run-down

85
houses and poor shops, all of them a quick block from
Center Street, the main and well-kept thoroughfare
through town.
Tony was standing on the next corner. When he saw
them, he gave no sign but turned and walked away, disap-
pearing into a bar that bore the name "Pete and Dick's."
"We don't know him," Lorraine muttered to Allie. "Re-
member that. We're just going in for a drink."
When they opened the door they found the bar dim
and nearly empty. The counter was on the left and Tony
was at it, waiting for a beer beside a shabby, scrawny
man with a boozer's complexion. In a booth on the right,
sitting where she could watch the door, was the girl.

Saturday Afternoon

Tony took his beer to the booth behind the girl, sliding
in against the common back, and Lorraine took the booth
that flanked her in front while Allie ordered two beers
from the beefy man behind the counter. The scrawny,
half-sodden lush on the bar stool swayed towards him,
a stubby end of cigarette between his lips, and said, "Got
a match?" Allie didn't, but he made a point of searching as
it gave him the chance to look around. He dug in his

pockets and let his gaze wander past the girl.

Her hair was blonde as in the newspaper photo but the
picture hadn't begun to record her beauty. She was the
loveliest thing Allie had ever seen, even prettier than
Valentine May. There was something about her face that
recalled Valentine but the easy, bubbling personahty
wasn't there. In its place was class. She didn't belong in a
place like Pete and Dick's as Valentine would. Never-
theless, she was like Valentine — a high-grade Valentine,
—
perhaps and if she laughed it might have the same sound
to it. Just then, though, the girl wasn't in a laughing mood.
She kept glancing at her watch and looking at the door
and she was oblivious of the untouched glass of beer be-
fore her, of Allie, Lorraine and Tony, and of the frail
drunk with the dirty cap and torn coat.
Allie told the drunk he had no matches, paid for the
86
beers and carried them to Lorraine. The girl didn't even
see him when he crossed her line of vision and he had
the sudden melancholy thought that whatever her prob-
lem, it mattered not one whit. What really mattered to her
were the three people occupying the booths on either side
because, one day soon, they would kill her. Yet these were
the people she never saw at all.
The boy she was waiting for finally came in. He wore
jeans and a soiled T-shirt and his cheeks bore a day's
growth of beard. His hair was too long, his moccasins
were coming out at the seams and his posture had a bel-
ligerent slouch to it that suggested he'd been told to stand
up straight too often. A cigarette from the pack that
bulged his shirt around the belt line dangled from his lips
and everything about him displayed a "hell with you" air.
It was an air he could afford for he was darkly handsome
with the kind of face that spelled trouble to women, yet
was irresistible to them.
He pushed open the door negligently, sauntered over
and sat down with the girl almost as if by accident. She
said, "Jamie, I've been waiting so long!"
He gave her no greeting at all but snapped his fingers
imperatively at the bartender. "Hey, a beer over here."
"What kept you?" she whispered in urgent tones.
"I had things to do."
"I almost broke my neck getting here. It's a wonder I
wasn't arrested. And
then you're late!"
"If you're going to get snotty about it, I'll leave."
She said desperately, "No. Don't go. I didn't mean any-
thing. It's that Mom
and Dad had me on the carpet. I've
got a cousin coming to visit and they wanted to know
what all this big rush to get away was about. I didn't
know what to tell them."
—
"Why didn't you tell them the truth that you were
meeting some guy they'd drop dead if they knew about?"
"Be sensible."
"You and your God damned rich parents," he said in
sudden bitterness, "and their holier-than-thou airs. What
makes them think they're so hot? Their God damned
bankbooks?"
"They're nice, Jamie. Really they are. If you'd only meet
them—"
87
 want to meet them. They're nothing but stuck-
"I don't
up anyway."
slobs
"They're not. Honest. I Hke them. Even if they weren't
my parents I'd like them."
"Go ahead and stick up for them. You're cut out of the
same piece of cloth. I don't know why I bother."
"I'm not. I can't help what am. Please, Jamie,
let's not
I

argue. Why is it we always

argue? Can't you take that
chip off your shoulder just for a little while?"
"What're you trying to do, psychoanalyze me? That's
the trouble with you. You're always talking and you never
know what you're talking about. I swear I don't know why
I bother with you."
"Sometimes I wonder too."
"Then why don't you find some man who'll let you
push him around?"
"I don't want some man. I don't want just any man.
You know that."
"I know what you tell me, but you sure as hell don't
act Hke it."

"What do you mean, Jamie? I had to lie to my folks. I

had to lie to get out of the house to see
I don't you and
ever lie. That ought to prove it."
"That's not how you prove it and you know it."
There was a long silence and the beer was brought to
the table before the low-toned conversation resumed. The
girl said, "What did you mean by that?"
"You know what I mean."
"I don't know. Honest."
"Don't try that innocent-eyed line with me. You aren't
that stupid. Imean what we were talking about the other
night"
—
"About you mean about '* —
"Yeah. That's exactly what I mean."
"But, Jamie, I told you!"
me again."
"Tell
Her
voice was almost too low to overhear. "I just said
we should wait till we're married."
Jamie was less reticent. His voice was distinctly audible
and bitter. "Now there's a nice childish attitude if I ever
heard of one."
"But what's wrong with waiting?"
"What's wrong with it? Everything's wrong with iti You
88
grab what you can when you can. You don't put off till
tomorrow because you might be dead! Christ, if you aren't
a perfect example of upper middle-class morality!"
She said quietly, "Maybe it's because of morality that
the upper middle-class got to be upper middle-class."
"Oh, so now you're turning preacher on me. Miss Sal-
vation Army! I notice you're pretty free and easy, short of
what really counts!"
She whispered in a stricken voice, "Don't. Please don't."
"What would those morality-bound, virtuous parents
of yours say if they knew what you do with me and God —
knows how many other men?"
"Don't say that! You know I've never done anything
with anybody Anything!"
else.
"You go with me, I suppose except
just let yourself —
that you always wake up in time to keep from going too
far. That's just coincidence, I suppose."
"I told you what I'm afraid of."
"You don't have to be afraid of that. I know what I'm
doing."
"I don't mean that."
"Then what are you afraid of? You don't mean it's that
old wives' fairy tale that men don't marry their mis-
tresses?"
"I know I sound silly. But you won't let me introduce
you to my folks or anything. What else am I supposed to
think?"
"I don't want to meet your folks. So why should I let
you introduce me?"
"You'd have to meet them sooner or later if we were —
going to get married."
"The later the better. They got nothing I want."
"That's what you always say, so what am I supposed to
think?"
"If in love as much as you claim you are,
you were
you'd knowyou're not supposed to think!"
"I can't help thinking. Love isn't just meeting in beer
parlors or going out in the woods."
"It isn't hanging around some dame's stuffy parents,
either. If you want to call it quits, O.K. If you don't, then
talk sense."
There was silence, with only the click of the boy's glass
on the table after a drink. Then the girl started haltingly.
89
"I don't know just what to say. I want to believe you. I
want to do what you want. I just — I just want to be sure,
that's all."
"In other words, you don't believe what I tell you. Is
that it?"
She was almost in tears. "I want to. Honest, Jamie. You
don'tknow how I want to. I lie in bed at night, pray-
ing—"
"To what? The Great Unconscious?"
"To God — for guidance."
"Christ, what a jerk. And does this God appear to you
and tell about Jamie Hendel and whether he's a saint or
a sinner?"
She said desperately, "Oh, please, let's not fight about
that again. I don't know if there's a God. Maybe I am
Church-dominated. All I know is it helps me to pray."
"So you're helped. You haven't said where that leaves
me."
"I just don't know what the answer is."
"That's a great God you pray to. You know that, don't
you?"
"I don't know what to do."
"I'll tell you what to do. Stop sniveling. If there's one
thing I hate, it's girls who cry. Jesus Christ, women who
cry are as deadly as people who are sick. If you're going
to bawl, I'm bugging out." ,

"I'm not crying. I'm just upset and miserable.**

"You're miserable? What do you think I am? Only I
don't cry about it."
"I'm not either. Honest, I'm not." There was a sniff and
then she said, "Would you like another beer?"
"I don't know. If I'm going to have to go through much
more of this I won't be around long enough to drink it."
"I don't want more of this either, Jamie. I don't want to
fight. Honest. Can't we discuss it intelligently?"
"If this discussion is going to be about my meeting
your folks, no."
"I didn't suggest that. I know you don't want to. I
accept that. What I want to discuss is Us."
"There's only one thing about Us to talk about. Do we
wait or don't we? Do I knuckle under to you or don't I?"
"That's not the way to put it, Jamie. We're not sup-
90
 " " " "

posed to be fighting each other. We're supposed to be

working together."
"Only in different directions. Is that it?"
"The same direction. What we have to work out is
what direction it's going to be."
"You keep talking in circles. The answer is either yes
or no. There's no halfway."
"The answer is yes, Jamie. You know it's yes if ——
"If! There's that big Httle word. // I meet your folks,
// I marry you first
—
"Not necessarily first. That's where you don't under-
stand me. We don't have to wait for marriage as long as
the marriage is going to come."
"And you think maybe it won't!"
"You have to admit you don't act much like a man
wanting to get married. You don't have a job. You aren't
trying to get one. You don't
—
There was a "That does it. Now comes the re-
clatter.
form campaign. Go
reform somebody else!"
She pleaded with him. "Don't go. Jamie, please don't
leave me. Please sit down. I didn't mean it. Honest I
didn't."
There was the sound of Jamie slipping back into his
seat.He said, "If I had any sense, I'd walk right out that
door and never come back."
Her voice was hasty and frightened. "I wasn't I didn't —
mean to hurt you. I didn't mean that. I know you're a
sensitiveperson and I didn't mean to cast aspersions.
Don't you see, what I was trying to say is that the normal
boy who's thinking about marriage —
"I'm no normal boy. That's one thing you can bet your
life on."
"Iknow that. That's part of your charm. What I meant
was, you don't give me any sign at all about wanting to
marry me."
"Maybe you think what I did to you in the car the
other night did because I didn't like you."
I

She said softly, "Oh, Darling, I know you want me. I

know that. And I want you. But that's not the same thing
as getting married."
There was a tinkling ring of metal on the table and
she said, "What's that?"
"It's a ring. What do you think it is?"

91
 "

"You mean it's for me?'*

"I mean if it was for the bartender I'd give it to the
bartender."
"It's beautiful! Those are real emeralds. Jamie, it must
have cost a fortune!"
"It did. All for you and maybe that ought to prove
something, since you won't believe what I tell you."
" 'Evelyn: All my love, Roger. May 16, 1954.' Then
you didn't buy it for me?"
"Let me see. Yeah. I forgot that was in it."
"Well, is it all right for me to wear it?"
"I didn't give it to you to pawn, you know."
"I mean does Evelyn — is it all right with her?"
"She's dead, for Christ's sake. She's a deceased relative
and it came to me by inheritance. I've been saving it for
the right girl."
"Oh, Jamie!"
"If you're going to blubber again —
"I'm not. Just a little bit. You've never given me any-
thing before. I —— I see, look. It fits just perfectly."
"You going to wear it?"
"I'm never going to take it off. Not till I die."
"Your nosy folks'll be wanting to know where you got
it."
"I don't care. I'll wave it in their faces and I don't care.
I don't care about anything!"
"Well, I do. I don't want them knowing about us."
"Please, Jamie. Let me wear it."
"Only if you swear you'll never say who gave it to you."
"I promise. Look at it sparkle. I'm so proud. I don't
think I've ever been this happy in my life."
"O.K. Enjoy it. Now let's get back to cases."
"You mean—?"
"That's exactly what I mean. Do we have to beat around
the bush some more? You wanted proof of how I feel.
There it is."

"And—and?"
"What do you want, a diagram?"
"But—but I'm not ready."
"You don't have to be. I am."
"I mean I want to think about it a little."
"If that's the way you feel, give me back the ring."
"No, Jamie. No, please. Can't you understand? It's just

92
that—not My
today. cousin's coming and I've got to get
back and—and— need I a little time. Please try to under-
stand, Jamie. I've got to get adjusted. I've been brought up
a certain way and you can't go against all your whole

upbringing just like that."

"Jesus, women!"
"I can't help the way I was brought up. Jamie, please.
Oh, damn. Life is so utterly complicated."
"Here come the tears again."
"Please. I'm trying, Jamie."
"I told you I can't stand crying women. Go on home to
your cousin."
"When will I see you again?"
**When do you think you can get your mind untracked?"
"How about Monday?"
"I'm busy Monday."
"Is—it—with a girl?"
"You sure are nosy today, aren't you?"
"I'm sorry. It just slipped out. Tuesday?"
"Maybe. I'll see."
"Where shall I pick you up?"
"Here's all right."
"Nine o'clock?"
"I guess so." He stalked to the door and left without
a backward glance.
Allie went to the bar for another beer. The girl was
fixing her face. Then she rose and came up beside him to
pay the man. Allie watched her as she left. Pretty as a
picture, but she moved like a sleepwalker. She'd been two
feet away from him when she put down her money but
she hadn't seen him at all.

Saturday, May ii -Sunday, May 12

"Butwhy do we have to kill her?"

To protect ourselves."
"I told you.
"But why can't we just keep her and give her back? I
mean we can use the house Valentine rented. We could
keep her there."
Lorraine said in exasperation, "Jesus, Allie, what's the

93
matter with you? Can't you get it through your head that
if —
we get caught it's the electric chair and that's whether
she's alive or dead?" She looked up as Tony returned
from the kitchen with another can of beer. "Tell him, will
ya, Tony?"
Tony said, "Get rid of her. That's the thing."
Allie, sitting straighter, gestured. "But she looks like
up
a nice kid. I mean why kill her if we don't have to? She
ain't done nothing to us."
Lorraine snapped, "For Christ's sake, that ain't the
point. The point is she could do something to us. It's like
those two cops you shot. They hadn't done nothing to
you, had they? Why'd you kill 'em then? Because they
would have, that's why. You killed 'em first. That's what
we're gonna do with her."
Allie had no argument against that. He chewed his lip.
Lorraine eyed him narrowly. "You going soft on that
twist, Allie?"
"No," he answered hastily. "Of course not." He looked
at Tony hopefully. "She kind of looks a little like Valen-
tine is all."

Tony's face turned sour. "All the more reason for get-
ting rid of the bitch. People looking like that tramp
oughtta get knocked off."
Lorraine said, "The next thing we gotta do is find some-
place to ditch her. We gotta make sure she ain't found
before we collect and blow. So what I propose is tomorrow
we make ourselves a little picnic. We go out in the woods
to have a little picnic only we ain't just having a picnic.
We're looking around for a place to get rid of the twist."
"You mean bury her someplace?"
"Naw. Burying takes too long. Hide her's better."
Allie said, "We could have the hole already dug."
"And have somebody stumble on it? Wouldn't that be
nice."
Tony said, "So where's there some woods?"
Lorraine leaned over the chair arm. "You know where
we got the house? There're a lotta woods around there.
It's right out in the wilds. I figure we'll drive out there
and look."
Allie cringed a little. "Ain't that kindda close?"
"Close to what?"
"Our house."
94
 "It ain't our house. Valentine rented it. And she's gone.
Besides, that's the best place.It's south of the city down

towards Stockford. We may be making the snatch in Stock-

ford for all we know. The closer the place we dump her
the better."
Tony agreed. "There ain*t no connection, Allie. No-
body knows we got the keys to the house and, besides,
we won't be using the house for nothing."
"It's an alternate spot," Lorraine said. "We got it as a
hide-out if we ever need one.'*
"Yeah," Tony said. He swirled the beer in his can. "A
hundred thousand smackers. We'll do all right, Kid."
Allie said, "Wouldn't it be better to keep the girl as a
hostage? We could use the house for a hide-out and keep
her there and then, if things got hot, nobody could touch
us because we got the giri."
Lorraine looked up at the ceiling. "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus I

Look, Allie. If we ain't got any girl around at all, who's to

say we kidnapped anyone, huh? We're just three people
minding our own business. Nobody's got nothing on us.
Not one single thing. Can't you get that through your
head? It's curtains if we get caught no matter what we do
so we might's well get hung for a wolf as a sheep. Get
your mind on the business at hand and stop being so
goddam sentimental. There's only one thing we're inter-
ested in, right? We want a hundred thousand bucks.
We're gonna get it from a guy named Partridge and he's
gonna give it to us to get his daughter back. All that
matters to us is that he come across. It don't matter to us
whether he gets the kid back or not, does it? That ain't
what we're here for. We're here for a hundred grand and
nothing else. We're in business to get that dough and get
away. That's all that counts. Get it and get out."
She leaned towards him and spoke sternly. "It's as
simple as this. Anything that's going to promote getting
the dough and getting away is good. Everything else is
bad. Everything! Having a live dame on our hands is bad.
That's just about as bad as you can get. That would
complicate the whole thing so much I don't know we
could work it. And for what reason would we have her
around? So we can give her back when we get the dough?
That ain't gonna promote getting away is it? That's gonna
make it that much harder. Your pal Tony agrees. What
•95
do you wantta do, rock the boat? You want us to get
caught? Or maybe you're scared to take the chance. May-
be you want to pull out. Is that it?"
Allie looked at Tony but Tony's face was set. "I don't
want out," Allie said. "Not if Tony don't."
"Tony don't. Ain't I right, Tony?"
Tony said, "If you think I'm gonna walk away from a
hundred grand you're off your nut. I think we can pull it.

If we find out we can't, we can always call it off. But I

sure ain'tgonna stop now."
"And," added Lorraine, "we ain't gonna quit just 'cause
we don't wantta knock off one of the idle rich. One of
them ain't no loss at all."
"O.K., O.K.," Allie said. "I ain't backing out. And I
ain't being sentimental. Knock her off if you want. I'm
just figuring the angles, that's all."
me do the figuring. I got the experience," Lorraine
"Let
said. She got up. "Now I'll go make some sandwiches for
that picnic tomorrow."
They went off at eleven Sunday morning driving south to
the turnoff to their rented house. Tony said, "What're you
going here for?"
Home base. This is so we'll know where
"Orientation.
we and won't get lost."
are
She went past it and took the first left onto a back
road which left all houses behind. She drove slowly and
shrubs, trees and woods grew thicker around them.
"Looks good," Tony said. "Somebody own all this prop-
erty?"
They came suddenly upon a rutted road ^two tire —
tracks in sandy soil with grass sprouting in the ridge be-
—
tween that struck off to the right, and Lorraine turned
in. "Let's try
here," she said.
"Says 'no trespassing'," Allie pointed out, indicating a
weathered sign nailed to a tree.
"So what?"
The narrow lane followed a nearly straight line through
the underbrush and Lorraine proceeded about a hundred
yards to where they were well shielded from the road
and stopped. There was a tiny clearing just large enough
for a picnic and she said, "This looks good."
"Good for what?" Tony asked. "This ain't no place to
hide."
96
 "Good to get out and look around."
"Go on to the end of the road. Let's see where it comes
out."
Lorraine demurred. "You go far enough and you'll get
back to houses again."
"That's what I want. I want to know just how far it is
back to houses again. Maybe we're practically in some-
body's back yard right now."
"Let's eat first and then explore on foot. We ain't gonna
find nothing riding in a car."
"OK., you can set up the lunch. Allie and me'll go on
ahead."
"Nuts. We'll stick together. Grab a sandwich and we'll
explore."
They got out and Lorraine pointed out a tiny trail off
the clearing that disappeared into the woods. Tony, how-
ever, was determined to follow the road. "I ain't gonna
feel comfortable till I know where it goes," he said. "Do

what you want. I'm going that way."

"OK.," Lorraine said sourly. "We'll go see where the
road leads if it'll make you feel better."
They went on down it and it was a short hike. The road
burst suddenly into the middle of an abandoned quarry.
Around were the stripped shelves of rock cut into a tow-
ering hillside, the dust and stone and rusted rails. Ahead,
over the sand and rock, lay a wide, deep, water-filled pit,
the quiet surface of the large pool reflecting the gray of
the clouded sky. Tony moved to the edge of the precip-
itous drop and kicked a scattering of loose stones over
the side. They fell away, down twenty feet, splashed and
rippled the water. "Whattaya know," he said. "Here's a
built-in answer. This is just the thing we want."
Lorraine snorted. "What's so great about this?"
"You tie a rock to her," Tony said. "How dumb can
you get? Splash and down she goes. Not a trace."
"If you know how deep it is."

be deep enough."
"It'll
"Yeah? Well let's look around some more. Let's not go
overboard on the first thing we see."
"We ain't gonna see nothing better than this."
"We'll look," Lorraine told him. "One thing I learned
from Charlie. You don't quit just 'cause something looks
good. You don't quit till you know there's nothing better."
97
 "Yeah? So where's Charlie? In San Quentin. That's
where."
"Yeah? And where would you be if he didn't make the
plans? You'd be sitting in the pen yourself."
Allie, who suffered at the almost constant bickering,
said, "Oh, come on. We'll look. What's the difference?"
"We won't find nothing better'n that anyhow," Tony
growled. "But O.K. You wantta walk in the woods, we'll
walk in the friggmg woods."
to the car, armed themselves with an-
They returned
other sandwich, and Lorraine pointed to the narrow path-
way again. Tony shrugged and finally said to Allie, "All
right.We gotta keep the bitch happy."
"Big Shot," she retorted. "You can't even rob a till with-
out getting caught at it. You think you can pull a snatch
without help? You do it my way and we'll make it. Your
way and you're in the soup."
"Some day I'm gonna forget you're Charlie's sister, Sis-
ter. All right. You're so smart. Go on and lead."
They plunged off up the trail in single file, Lorraine in
front, Tony bringing up the rear. It was uphill, which
didn't lighten Tony's mood, but Lorraine walked with pur-
pose, pushing through the branches, treading on rotted
limbs, going over the mossy rocks of the hillside.
After fifty yards of the close, dank trail, they came
alongside a face of rock that, between two seams, gaped
to form a three-foot niche at the base which disappeared
into darkness.
Lorraine waited till Allie and Tony drew even. "What
about this?" she said, gesturing.
Tony said, "What about it?"
"It looks like a cave."
"It looks like a little hole in the rocks, that's what it

looks like."
might go deeper than you think.'*
"It
"Crawl in if you're so goddam anxious."
Lorraine, who was wearing dungarees and a plaid shirt,
got down on her knees and crawled through the mouth
without a word. She disappeared and the two men could
hear her movements but she was lost in the depths. "Hey,"
she echoed hollowly after a bit. "Come on in. Take a
look."
"Jesus," Tony said.
"Come on. I'm telling ya. This is it."

98
 Allie ducked through on hands and knees and Tony,
making a face, finally followed. Once through the mouth,
he discovered to his surprise that the roof of the cave rose
and it was far from cramped. As he went in deeper, it
reached the point where he could stand.
"Got a match?" Lorraine said.
Tony flicked his lighter. The three were in a small
chamber that extended a short distance around a corner
and was bounded by rocks and crevices. "Now whattaya
think of this?" Lorraine said in triumph. "Here's the per-
fect spot."
Tony looked around and snapped the lighter shut. He
stillfavored the quarry. "It's all right," he said grudgingly.
"It's better than all right," Lorraine insisted eagerly.
"This is it. Nobody'd find her here for a hundred years.'*
"They wouldn't find her in the quarry either."
"Like hell. Bodies don't stay down, you know. They
break loose and come up. There's always the danger of a
body floating up again and if it ever happened before we
got the hundred grand, that would be it."
Tony didn't like the closeness and the pressing velvet
black that surrounded them out of sight of the entrance.
He got down again and started crawling for the slot of
light and the outside air. He'd never been in solitary but
if that was what it was like, he was sure he'd go raving
mad in less than an hour. It gave him a pang of terror he
didn't want to admit.
The others followed more slowly and he was brushing
his trousers when they rejoined him. "Naw," he said. "I
think the quarry's the place."
"I told you the quarry's dangerous. The road leads
right to it. People would be going there. And if the cops
thought we'd killed the girl, that's the first place they'd
look. They'd drag it right off. They'd never find the cave.
Never in a million years. Probably nobody even knows
about it."
"How do you know nobody knows about it? Suppose
somebody does find it. Then where are we? There's the
girl, And when she starts to
right there out in the open.
rot and then what?"
stink,
"By then we'll be over the border."
"You can't be sure. You don't know how long it'll take
to collect the dough."
"Listen, dumbbell, you think I ain't thought all this
99
out? We put her in the cave, see? But we don't just leave
her. What we do is pour gasoline on her and set her on
fire. She burns up way back in the cave and nobody knows

it and nobody finds her and if somebody did find her

nobody'd know who she was. We do it that way and she's

unidentifiable even if she's found. In the quarry, if she
came up they'd know who she was right away."
Tony lighted a cigarette. "Come on. Let's go back to
town. I'm sick of these woods."
"What do you think, Allie?" Lorraine asked. "You agree,
don't you?"
"I don't know that it matters," Allie said. His stomach
was turning slightly at both the picture of a bloated body
floating in the quarry pool and a burning body crackling
deep in the cave. "Whatever the rest of you want."
"It's gotta be the cave," Lorraine said. "There's no tell-
ing. On a clear day you could probably see pretty deep
into that quarry pond. We can't take no chances."
"O.K.," Tony said. "The cave, the cave. Anything to shut
you up and get us the hell back to town. But if we ain't
gonna drown her, you can do the killing."

Week of May 13 through ig

By Tuesday evening Lorraine, Tony and Allie had learned

a few things about Miss Susan Partridge. Now that they
knew her car her comings and goings to the college were
easy to spot and it had been found that she arrived for
class before eight in the morning and left at three-thirty.
On Monday she and three other girls stopped for a soda
at a drugstore hangout for the college crowd but on Tues-
day she drove directly home and there was purpose and
preoccupation in her manner. It was obvious she was
thinking of her date that night and it was also obvious that
the chances of kidnapping her in Pittsfield were very slim.
The route she took was down through town and out the
main highway south to Stockford. Nowhere along that road
was there a chance of stopping her without being public
about it. There were always cars.
Other things had to be done in preparation for the kid-
napping and Lorraine wasn't wasting time. She bought a
100
five-gallon can of gasoline which she stored in the trunk of
her car. She bought a large hunting knife and a length of
clothesline. She started saving newspapers to cut the mes-
sages from.
At eight o'clock Tuesday night, the three climbed into
the jalopy and rode down to Stockford and Pete and Dick's
Bar. Tony went in first with Lorraine and Allie following
five minutes later and they stationed themselves to set up
the best chance of flanking Susan and Jamie when they
appeared.
Susan was first on the scene, arriving a good fifteen min-
utes ahead of time, and she moved directly to the booth
behind Allie and Lorraine where she sat down facing the
door and ordered a beer. There she stayed for an hour and
a half but Jamie Hendel didn't come.
Allie, refilling glasses frequently at the bar, used the
opportunity to watch her and, as before, she was oblivious
of his presence. She sat in silence, twisting the beer glass,
smoking cigarettes, feeling and turning the ring on her
finger. He thought she looked pale and nervous and he
found himself wondering what her decision was going to
be. Would she yield to the boy or would she stall?
By quarter past ten it was apparent there would be no
decision that night. Jamie, with a beautiful doll waiting for
him in a shabby dive, had chosen to stay away. Did he
have another date? Was he twisting the knife? Allie felt
both angry at the youth and envious. The only girl who'd
ever paid attention to him was the lean and masculine
Lorraine with her plain face and oppressive personality.
No lovely damsel would demean herself to sit in a bar
like this one and wait interminably for him to show up.
No girl who was really pretty had ever given him the eye.
Of course there was Valentine. She'd thrown herself at
him that one time but she hardly counted. He was certain
that Valentine would happily go to any man anywhere,
any time. She was probably, for that matter, with one at
that moment back in her home town.
Susan Partridge finally gave up. She paid the bartender,
tossed her head and stalked out. There was no question
about it. She was mad.
The rest of the week was routine. Susan went to class
and home again and on Friday went away for the week-
end. Through it all she stayed away from Pete and Dick's
101
and, so far as the trio could leam, she had no contact with
Jamie.
Meanwhile, Lorraine had been working out the plot.
*'We have the first ransom note with us when we make the
grab," she said. "Since it looks like we're gonna make the
grab in Stockford, we'll mail it in Stockford. Let 'em think
we're from Stockford."
"Who's gonna make the phone call?" Tony wanted to
know.
"What phone call?"
"The one telling 'em we've kidnapped their kid."
"There ain't gonna be no phone call. We ain't gonna
have no direct contact with that family at all."
"Whattaya mean no phone call? Why the hell not?"
"Phones have a way of getting tapped and out-of-town
calls get recorded. We ain't leaving no trails."
"Tapped? Jesus, they wouldn't even know the dame's
gone."
"Maybe they wouldn't but we can't be sure. We're play-
ing it like the cops are after us from the second we grab
her."
"They frigging well will be if the family don't get no
ransom note till the day after we make the snatch. The
cops'U be out looking for her from the moment she don't
get home. They ain't gonna wait till the next day."
"So what? In almost any kidnapping the cops get called
in right off. Let 'em come in. As soon as that ransom note
arrives, they're gonna get right out again. That's the
one thing about kidnappings. So long as the girl is being
held them cops don't do nothing. They hold back till the
ransom's been paid and the kid is returned. They don't
unlimber the heavy artillery till the dame comes back.
Only in this case, she won't be coming back and that's
gonna give us still more time because they won't move till
they're absolutely positive she ain't. We'll be in Mexico
before they start after us."
"I still don't like inviting 'em in when a phone call
would keep them out."
"Who says it would keep them out? We'd have to figure
they're in it secretly no matter what happens. It might as
well be out in the open. So no phone calls."
The major problem, as she hardly needed to point out,
lay in the transfer of the money. "That's the one time we
actually have to be at a certain spot. That's the one time
102
we're exposed. The rest of the time we can sit here in the
room and nobody could prove nothing on us if the whole
FBI was to walk in. Our only danger is being caught with
the dough on us. Till we actually get the dough, we're
safe. From that time on we're in danger and especially at
the moment we pick it up."
"Well, we're gonna make sure they give us unmarked
bills, ain't we?"
"That's what we're gonna say, sure. We're gonna tell
them 'old bills'. One hundred grand and nothing bigger
than a twenty in the lot. But just 'cause we tell 'em not
to mark 'em don't mean they won't."
Tony said sourly, "So what good's the dough if it's all

marked?"
"God, if you ain't a chicken! It's perfectly good dough,
especially in some country like Mexico."
"If we ever get to Mexico."
you think I ain't thought all
"Listen, Lamebrain, don't
this out? We demand the ransom get paid in unmarked
bills with nothing bigger than a twenty. Unmarked bills.
That means old bills. Get it? You get what this means?'*
"No, Bitch. What does it mean?"
"It means that a hundred thousand bucks in twenties
or less comes thousand bills. Five thousand
to at least five
old twenty-dollar bills. 'em copy the serial numbers
So let
of five thousand old twenty-dollar bills. Let 'em stay up all
night doing it. Them serial numbers will be all jumbled.
There'll be lots of difi'erent starting letters and all kinds of
different numbers. So they send out notices. Who the hell,
outside of a bank, is gonna thumb through sheets and
sheets of serial numbers every time he comes across a
twenty, huh? If they was new bills, that's a different thing.
In the first place, new bills would stand out and in the
second, they'd all have the same letter and starting num-
bers and they'd follow in sequence. It'd be easy for mer-
chants and everybody to pick out one of them bills. But
old twenties? Never.
"That's the first thing. The second thing is, nobody's
gonna give any publicity till long after we get the
this
dough, till long after we're in Mexico." She looked over at
Allie. "What's the matter with you?"
AUie said slowly, "I was thinking about Mexico. I mean,
what are we going there for?"
103
 "Because from there we can take off to any country we
please."
"Don't we have to have passports?"
"Not to Mexico, but we will to other places. So our first
stop is New Orleans on accountta that's where I know a
guy can get us passports. Then it's into Mexico and we
can play it from there."
"Well, if nobody's gonna trace the bills, why do we
have to go? We could hide out here."
"Yeah," put in Tony. "Who the hell wants to go to
Mexico?"
"I do, and you would too if you was smarter. Thirty-
three thousand bucks wUl last a long time down there. It
could last the rest of your life."
Tony's eyes leered. "I know what's eating her, AUie.
She wants us to go to Mexico because she wants to go
there. She wants to jump her parole, that's what she wants
to do. She don't want to sit around Pittsfield reporting to
her parole officer every week, not when the kid's dead
and the cops are canvassing the whole frigging state and
she's sitting on a lotta dough she can't explain where she
got it. She wants out, only she wants us to go too."
Lorraine bit her lip. She lighted a cigarette, took a
puff and glared at it. "We'll talk about that later. Right
now we got to discuss how we do the job, not what
we're gonna do when it's over." She looked at Tony. "Or
maybe you're chickening out. Maybe you'd rather go back
to robbing liquor stores and shooting cops."
Tony grinned maliciously. "I want the thirty-three grand
all right," he said. "I just don't like foreign dames. Buy
American. That's my motto. Now I think it's a great idea
you going to Mexico. That's just what you oughtta do.
Allie and me'll stick around here. Right, Allie?"
Allie looked from one to the other and swallowed.
"Right," he murmured.
Lorraine got up. "All right. We'll chuck the whole thing.
I shouldda known better than to think you two clucks
could pull off a job like this. You wasn't cut out for
nothing but penny-ante stuff to begin with. So go out
and shove your big gun in the face of some liquor store
guy and see how long it is before you catch enough lead
to sink you."
Tony glared up at her. "Sit down and shut up," he
snapped.
104
 "

"Go to hell. The whole thing's off so forget it."

"It ain't off. It's on."
"Then you go do it since you're so smart. You and
Allie. Go get yourself another place to live and go plot
your own kidnapping." She stalked off down the hall to
thebedroom and slammed the door.
Tony flung his cigarette at the wall and burst into a tor-
rent of epithets. He got up and retrieved the burning
butt and mashed it viciously in the ashtray. "For two
cents I'd break that bitch's frigging neck. Her and her
goddam almighty airs!"
Allie watched Tony's wrath but he felt better than he
had in days. "Let's forget her," he said. "Let's go to
Boston."
"I could forget her before I ever met her. The trouble
is she's got that goddam whip."

"What whip?"
"A cut of a hundred G's. I think we can pull it."
Allie's heart sank a little. "You mean without her?"
"No. That's the frigging trouble. We
need the goddam
bitch I" He took a turn around the room. "The lousy god-
dam so-and-so. It's gotta be her way or no way." He
turned to Allie and said sourly, "So it looks like Mexico,
Kid."
"I was thinking," Allie said desperately. "You know, we
could kind of go up Albany way. I mean where Valentine
comes from."
"What for?"
up with her
"I mean,
again. If we — Mexico you
in couldn't ever pick

"I ain't about to. I've had it with that babe. Run out on
me, will she? It shows you can't ever trust any of 'em. I
thought she was different. I thought she was the real thing,
but she turns tail on me like I was poison or something.
Just because I ain't no pure white knight, like she was
some virgin princess. She's a fine one to talk. She's just
as much a bum as me." He waved his hand. "Forget it.
Forget her. Stop mentioning her name to me. I don't want-
ta hear it." He nodded. "Get the bitch out here. Tell her
we'll go to her frigging foreign country, only we gotta get
this job set up. I ain't wasted all this time on it for
nothing."
Allie chewed his lip for a moment. Then he got up
slowly. "Yeah, Tony. Whatever you say."
105
 Week of May 20 through 26

They watched Susan Patridge into the following week but

she didn't see the boy named Jamie and this was compli-
cating things. The perfect time for the grab, Lorraine had
decided, would be when Susan was returning home from
a late date with her handsome swain, the anticipated date
in the woods wherein she paid off for the ring. How-
ever, she hadn't been near Pete and Dick's since the night
she'd been stood up and there was no telling when the
two would get together again.
The other alternative was a daylight snatch for the only
thing they could be sure of was that she was through with
classes at three-thirty and would drive home shortly there-
after. A daylight job would be risky but it was being
forced on them. Time was short and school would be over
soon. If they delayed much longer, they might find Susan
gone for the summer.
There were, however, certain advantages in a daylight
kidnapping, Lorraine decided. They wouldn't have to grope
their way up the wooded trail to the cave in the dark and
that was a definite plus. The prospects were brightened
further when Lorraine, taking Wednesday afternoon off,
made a count of cars coming and going up High Ridge
Road and found there was almost no traffic at all. The
chances were better than good that they could seize her
on that winding drive with no interruption whatever.
Lorraine, having persuaded herself, found Tony equally
easy to convince. He'd had his fill of waiting and almost
any course was preferable to sitting around the little flat
biding his time. Only Allie seemed in no hurry, but his
feelings didn't matter. He could always be counted on to
drag his feet but he could also be counted on to follow
Tony's lead wherever it might go.
They set the date for the following Monday, the twenty-
seventh of May, and Lorraine rented a blue panel truck on
Saturday. It had solid back doors but was open behind the
driving seats so they built a partition of cardboard car-
tons collected from the supermarket, piling and tying them
to block off any possible view of the interior of the truck
through the windshield. On Sunday night they went over
106
the whole kidnapping part one last time. Lorraine laid it
out for them.
"All right. This is it and all of it. I go to work in the
morning and beg off at noon. I'm sick again like last
Wednesday. I come home here. At three-thirty precisely
we leave in the truck. You two back and I
ride in the
drive. In the back with you is sure you
the gasoline. Make
got plenty of matches. We're all gonna have matches.
Tony, you hold the gun. You have a rope, the knife and
a handkerchief so you can tie the girl's hands and gag her.
That part's all set. The gas and the clothesline's already
locked in the back. The message you keep in your pocket,
Tony. Here it is, addressed and stamped. Hold it in this
piece of paper and don't forget, you never touch it. Keep
it unsealed.
"O.K. We drive down to Stockford and I go up High
Ridge Road and turn around at the head of that little
straight stretch we picked so we're facing downhill. I
park at the side and anybody should happen along
wait. If
and get nosy, I got a notebook with addresses in it and
I pretend I'm figuring out where the nearest one is for
the next delivery. I've got that and a street map. If any-
body gets real nosy, I'm delivering for my brother who's
got a small television repair shop. I'm taking parts around.
If anybody gets so goddamned nosy that they gotta see
the inside of the truck —
like a cop, I mean he can't see —
over the boxes so he has to go to the back door. The rest
is up to you. If it gets that bad we'll probably have to call

the whole thing off, but it shouldn't get that bad. We'll be
O.K. There wasn't more'n five cars all last Wednesday
afternoon and one of 'em was hers.
"Now we don't know how long we'll have to wait. It
depends on whether she comes straight home after class
or whether she goes someplace with the girls for a soda or
something. We'll wait as long as we dare and if she don't
show, then we forget it till the next day or the day after.
We'll have to play that by ear because it depends on how
many cars might go by and think it funny to see the
same truck parked in the same place where there's nothing
but woods.
"All right. Now the girl comes up the hill. She's usually
going damned but I'll still have plenty of time to let
fast
off the brake and swing the truck across the road in front
of her. She'll be blocked cold.
107
 "Now the second I stop, you two jump out. Don't show
your gun, Tony, till you see who's around. All right. She's
stopped in the middle of the road with the truck in front.
You're out as fast as you can get and you're over to her
car. That's when you give her a peek at the gun, Tony,
and you and Allie get her outta that car fast. You get her
into the truck, Tony, and Allie backs her car off to the
side. You're sure you'll know how to drive the thing?"
Allie said, without too much assurance, "I guess so. It
won't be much different from yours, will it?"
"Hell, it'll have power steering and power brakes and
automatic shift. It won't be anything at all like mine.
—
What you do is yank the shift it'll be on the steering
—
wheel to where it says R and let off the brake. If you
ain't sure, you can let off the brake and it'll roll by itself.
If it does, it'll roll off the road into the woods till it hits
something. That's O.K., too. We ain't trying to hide her
car or nothing like that. We don't care who knows she's
kidnapped so long as nobody knows who done it so long —
as they don't know it till after we get outta there. You got it
down pat so far?"
The youths nodded and she was satisfied. "You get her
in the truck and Allie gets back in. By that time I've got
the motor miming and we go down the hill to the main
road and up into Stockford. While I'm driving, you keep
her quiet. That's your job, Tony. Allie, yours is to cut out
a hunk of her skirt. It don't have to be much, just a litde
piece. You get the envelope outta Tony's pocket, and you
use gloves when you touch the skirt and when you touch
that envelope. Tuck the piece in with the ransom note and
seal it, then you hand it over the cartons to me.
"Now, at the comer of Center Street and Meadow, at
that traffic light there, there's a mailbox. I duck out, stick
the letter in the box, and we then proceed up Meadow and
over till it picks up Center the second time up north. Then
we ride that to Pittsfield to the tumoff and the route to
the spot in the woods. What're you gonna be doing while
I'm driving?"
"Keeping the girl quiet," Tony said.
"You're gonna tie her wrists and gag her. That's what
you're gonna do. All right. What about the girl's purse?"
"We leave that in her car."
"That's right. And you don't stop to see if she's got
dough in it either. All we want is the girl and nothing else.

108
Now then, we're in the woods near the cave. When I
stop you don't open the doors. You wait for me to open
them, just in case anybody's around." She aimed a finger at
Tony. "Take it from there."
Tony said, "We march the kid up the trail. Allie carries
the gasoUne, I mind the kid. We go up to the cave. We
make her lie face down. You take my knife and give it to
her in the back and Allie pours gasoHne over her. I flip
her over so he can douse the front of her and then I drag
her into the cave around the comer, get clear, light a book
of matches and throw it on her. Then I get out."
Allie chewed his lip. "What if she's still alive?"
"She won't be," Lorraine assured him. "When I give it
to her, I'll give it to her good. She'll be dead and good

riddance. Anything else?"

Allie breathed easier. It wouldn't be so bad if she were
truly dead. "Any chance of there being an explosion?"
Tony waved him off. "Naw. She's doused. She ain't gon-
na be inside the cave long enough for a lot of fumes to
collect. It's in, I come back around the corner, light the
book and chuck it. There might be a big whoosh but there
won't be no real explosion."
"What next?" Lorraine said.
"We go back to the truck. We drive back here to the
flat and you go return the truck."

"That's right. And when I get back we're clean. There

ain't a single thing nowhere can incriminate us at all. And
there won't be till we paste up the second ransom note."
She looked around at Allie and Tony, grinning with
malicious pleasure. "So, how're you feeling? Sleepy?"
Tony said, "Like hell I'm sleepy."
Allie shook his head. "No. I'm not sleepy."
"It figures. It's like Charlie and me before a big job. I
used to be awake all night."
She got up and went to the kitchen. Tony and AlUe
looked at each other but neither had a word to say.
Lorraine came back with three tumblers and a bottle of
cheap rye. She poured an inch into each glass and passed
them around. "We gotta drink," she said. "By the time the
week is out we're gonna own a hundred grand. That de-
serves a celebration." She raised her glass. "Here's to you,
Susan Partridge, and to your rich old man. May you never
see another sunset."

109
 PART II

Miss Susan Partridge

 "

Monday, May 2y, igS^

Susan Partridge sorted rapidly through her books, tossing

an occasional slim volume back into the metal confines of
her locker, piling most of the others in a stack on the
bench in front. Close by, Marion Lawford, with a pencil
in her teeth, tucked hers in place more quietly. Marion
removed the pencil and said, "What're you doing, taking
home everything?"
"I've got two finals Wednesday," Sue repUed. "It means
practically the works."
"I'll be glad a week from Wednesday. That's my last.**
"Mine too. Last and worst. All I'm doing now is dream-
ing about four o'clock a week from Wednesday. Then all
I'll have to worry about is the report my father'll get."

"My father says if I get honors he'll give me a new car.'*

Susan laughed. "If I don't get them, he'll probably take
mine away." She closed her locker and turned the key,
then gathered up the double armload of books. "If Shirley
comes looking for me, tell her I've gone, will you?"
"Sure thing."
Susan went out of the locker room and along the hall.
As she passed the office, Miss Belford called her and she
stopped in the doorway.
"Did you get the message?" Miss Belford asked. She
was a slim, bespectacled woman in her middle thirties
who handled a major share of the office affairs, everything
from the switchboard to the minutes of the Board of
Trustees meetings. "I sent word by Shirley
—
"No," Susan said. "I haven't seen Shirley."
"You had a phone call. Somebody named" she turned
— —
and consulted a pad "somebody named Jamie. He said
he'd meet you at four." She looked up and smiled. "I
asked him where but he said you'd know.*'
113
 —

"Oh," Susan said and she tried to keep her face ex-
pressionless over the throbbing of her heart. "Thank you.'*
Miss Belford nodded and Susan ducked quickly down
the hall. She was sure her face was red, that her hands
were trembling, and she knew that her knees were like
water. Betty Coates came by, saying "Hi," and Susan
nodded, wondering if she looked as disturbed as she felt.
What was there about Jamie Hendel that the sound of his
voice or even the mention of his name could turn her
inside out?
She burst into the sunshine of the side driveway and
started down to the parking lot, her mind in a turmoil.
This was the first time she'd heard from him since the
afternoon he gave her the ring, along with its accom-
panying ultimatum. Through the intervening period of
drought she'd lived in dread that she'd never hear from
him again but this was one time when she'd steadfastly
refused to seek him out. There were agonizing nights
when, alone in bed, she wondered if he'd met with an
accident, if something had prevented his meeting her
other than another girl. Nearly every afternoon on her
way home through the center of Stockford she'd had to
steel herself to keep from detouring past his boarding-
house in the shabby section where he lived.
She knew, though, that there had been no accident. If
there had, his friends would have told her. No, he had
stood her up deliberately. It was doubtless another wom-
an and this conviction had been the only thing that had
kept her away. She'd crawled to him before but this time
she had mustered her pride. Nearly always, when they
met, he was late, frequently insultingly so, but this was the
first time he had ever failed to come at all.

A girl had to have some pride. She had to get her back
up somewhere. If she didn't, she was lost. Up till now he'd
got away with everything he wanted, except the one thing
he wanted most. Somehow, almost out of the mists of
her subconscious, she had rallied some spark of resistance
at the height of their love-making and stopped him from
going "all the way." She couldn't stop him from anything
else and she frankly didn't know how she stopped him
there. It was Puritanical upbringing or something. At least
this was the way she had analyzed it to herself and some-
times, to try to ease his aneer, to him. He had tried
114
everything except brute force to win her, had even threat-
ened never to see her again. This had always frightened
her but, strangely enough, it stiffened her resistance. It
was as if the threat was a confession that that was all he
really wanted from her, that it was her body and not her
soul he was after. Her body she didn't care about. It was
her soul he had to want. And, in her constant analyses,
she sometimes thought that was why she resisted. If she
could be sure, then nothing else mattered. Not being sure
was what had tormented her so long, what made her re-
sist him.
The ring, though. That had almost persuaded her. It
might have completely won her, too, if he hadn't acted
quite so much as if it were payment for expected favors
rather than the token of love he professed it to be.
After he stood her up she was convinced the ring was
worthless. She was sure the next time she saw him she'd
give it back. This was his crudest slap and she had made
herself wait for his first move —
hoping daily it would
come, fearing, as day followed day, that it never would.
Some other girl had caught his fancy, one who was more
"mature", one who didn't have her own "upper middle-
class morality,"
So she had gone about her routine of existence but
always there was the ache inside. It had become almost a
part of her, something she was learning to live with. But
now, starting the convertible, there was no ache any
longer, only that almost agonizing thrill that left her trem-
bling and totally shaken.
As she rolled out the drive and picked up the route for
home all she could think about was that he had called
her. He wanted her back. What was even more important
was that he had swallowed his pride. Surely he must care
to have done that. The most she had hoped for till now
was that one of his cronies, one of that rather unpleasant
group of beatnik men he hung out with, would let her
know that if she wanted to come around he wouldn't
kick her down the stairs.
But this! This proved he couldn't forget her and all
the rationalities she'd indulged in came tumbling down.
Hadn't she told herself over and over that he was not for
her, that this was wild infatuation and nothing good
could come of it? Didn't he not have a job? Didn't he
115
totally refuse to meet her folks and her friends, making
her, instead, go with his? Wasn't his choice of friends a
revelation of himself? Wasn't it obvious that marriage
would be a disaster? Couldn't she see he wouldn't be
faithful to her two weeks? Couldn't she see that more than
passion was required for a marriage to work? It didn't
matter any longer. He had come to her and that made it
all different. If he loved her he'd get a job. He'd let her

introduce him at home. Her father could help get him

started. If two people were in love, that was all that
counted. Marriage to the greatest man in the world was
dust and ashes without love. With love, even poverty took
on a rosy sheen. With Jamie she'd be happy in a one-room
flat with a three-quarter bed and an electric burner.
It took a while, but by the time she hit Stockford, Susan
was starting to have second guesses. After all, Jamie had
only said he'd meet her. They'd sit down in the booth and
he'd probably want to know what her decision was — was
she going to come through or wasn't she? And if she
were willing to yield, what would happen? Would he
make her drive them to some patch of woods somewhere
in broad daylight? Would she lie in his arms and permit
him to make love to her while fighting down the panic
that they might be discovered? That wasn't the way she
—
wanted it. When she made up her mind and this she
certainly hadn't done— she wanted it to be right.
Eager as she was to see him, the prospect was beginning
to fill her with dread. If she said "not yet", he'd be very
angry. They'd fight again. It seemed they were never to-
gether without fighting, except when they were making
love. She didn't want to fight with him now. Please, not
today. Today she only wanted to sit and look at him,
touch his hand, perhaps kiss him lightly. She only wanted
to revel in his presence. No love-making. Nothing more
than a kiss. But Jamie would never understand that, she
knew. He was always chafing to get her alone, to strip
and paw her.
It was just four when she got into town and now she
began to wonder if he'd be there. Since he'd stood her
up once she couldn't count on anything any longer. She
swung the big car off the main thoroughfare and into the
narrow streets, around the corner to where the "Pete and
Dick's" sign lay ahead. She crawled by slowly and looked
116
in for Jamie's familiar figure at the bar but there was
only the lush who was a fixture in the place. Jamie hadn't
come.
She took a drive around several blocks, making herself
let ten minutes go by and then she passed the place a
second time. Her heart was thumping with suspense for
she had told herself that if he weren't there that time, she'd
go on home.
He wasn't. Now it was twelve after four and he'd said
four o'clock. How long would he make her wait this time
if she stopped? After standing her up last time he still had
the nerve to make her sit there? She could imagine him
strolling in as leisurely as you please. And if she remon-
strated with him, dared even suggest she'd been waiting
long, he'd bawl her out, tell her to go home if she didn't
like it.

Her back stiffened. All would have been forgiven if he'd

just been on time this once. She wouldn't even have men-
tioned being stood up. But this was insult on injury.
She'd have no part of it. Let him wait for a change. Did
he think he could whistle and she'd come running? Just
this once, lady, don't run.
She forced herself to drive on and her mind was made
up. She'd waited him out this last time and he came to her.
He'd come to her again. Maybe if she showed him she
wouldn't be trampled, he'd even come to respect her. He
might, perhaps, come to love her more. If she could be
firm with him, he might even turn into good husband
material. What did they always say about doormats? Peo-
ple despise them even while they walk on them. Wasn't
she, herself, mean to Freddie King? It wasn't merely her
lack of interest. His very efforts to placate her were an-
noying. They tempted her to be mean.
She got to Meadow Street and turned for home. There
were finals to study for anyway. Besides, what right had
Jamie to think she'd drop everything and meet him when-
ever he said? Didn't he think she had a life of her own,
plans and responsibilities she had to see to? The fact
that she'd never given him reason to think so before didn't
come to her now. She was too busy rationalizing.
When she swung onto High Ridge Road her teeth were
clenched and she was taking a certain bitter pleasure in
the ache which had started up again. She lulled it with the
117
picture of Jamie's disappointment when he didn't find her
at Pete and Dick's.
Rounding a bend she only half saw the unmarked blue
panel truck at the side of the road at the head of the
grade. Only subconsciously did she wonder what it was
doing there.
Suddenly it moved. It started forward and made a turn
which brought it abruptly into her awareness for it
blocked the road.
Susan jumped on the brakes. "You crazy idiot!" she
said in the rage brought on by fear as the car wheels
squealed and locked and skidded and the convertible
stopped ten feet short.
Her heart was still pounding at the near collision when
the rear doors of the truck burst open and two youths
sprang out.
Even before they came towards her, Susan had a sixth
sense warning of danger that wiped the earlier fright from
her mind and she was already yanking the steering-post
shift into reverse. The car wheels skidded again in a
shower of pebbles and the car lurched back drunkenly.
It weaved in a zig-zag course with the youths coming at
her in an all-out sprint. She turned to look back but
everything else had happened so fast she was too late. The
car was already leaving the road, its back wheels sliding
off into the shrubs, dirt, and matted leaves.
She came to a fast stop with the youths almost on her
and threw the shift too far. It went into neutral and the
motor raced. She yanked it back a notch. The car bucked
and stalled and terror seized her.
There was no thought of Jamie now, only the realiza-
tion that she was going to be caught and that it was no
accident. They'd been waiting for her and she knew, even
as she threw herself across the seat to the passenger door,
that she was never going to make it. One of the youths
was already around that side and the other, the brawnier
and bolder of the two, was yanking open the driver's
door.
She turned, half sprawled, and said, "No! Please," and
then she saw the gun. In a way, the sight of the weapon
gave her hope. Maybe it was only to be robbery and not
rape.
"Out, sister," the man with the gun snapped. "Be quick."
118
 "Please," she said, struggling up. "What do you want?"
Then she saw the panel truck gliding down alongside and
her heart sank. A
particular horror lay ahead. She sensed
that much but her numbed brain couldn't even imagine
what it might be.
The rough man seized her arm and dragged her, half
stumbling, from the car. The yawning cavern of the truck
was beside her, waiting. There was nothing around and
no one to hear her but she screamed anyway.
The man had put his gun away but he clubbed her
heavily with a fist that showered stars through her head
and left her half stunned and slightly nauseous. From his
roughness and haste he seemed to be almost as frightened
as she but this was something that didn't concern her at
the moment. All she knew was that she was thrust half-
conscious into the back of the truck, that the two men
had leaped in with her, and that the truck had started
rolling before they got the doors relatched.
Then they were rattling down the road and away.

Monday Afternoon
At first all Susan could do was think numbly, "It can't be
happening to me. This can't be real," and she lay there
with her head against the grooved metal flooring, her eyes
closed as if to keep the reality away. She felt a dull ache
in all the teeth on the left side of her face from the

blow she'd been struck and that was real, all right. She'd
never been hit that hard in her life and she wondered
why she was still conscious.
As the truck gained speed going down the winding road
every unevenness seemed magnified a thousandfold and
her body and head began jarring against the steel beneath
her. She braced herself against the jouncing and a hand
caught her arm, pulling her over on her back.
She looked up into the face of the swarthy youth with
the strange yellow hair, and though he was good-looking,
it was in a nasty way and she had never seen such cold

eyes. It took no effort to believe him capable of anything.

As she watched with horrible fascination, he showed her
119
the largest knife she had ever seen with a mean-looking
blade honed to a sharpness it had never known in the
factory.
"What are you going to do?" she whispered in a voice
made faint by terror. Rape, she fully expected but now a
new dread stirred in her. She might even be murdered.
The man kept his grip on her and turned the blade back
and forth in front of her face. "You do as I tell you, you
understand?" His voice was very harsh and cruel. She
nodded against the floor, her eyes unblinking on the blade.
"You don't make a sound. Not one sound. You hear?"
She nodded again. It seemed to satisfy him for, though
his expression didn't relax, he removed the knife from
sight. Then he looked to the other youth and Susan moved
her eyes without turning her head. He had a younger face,
one that didn't seem touched by evil. It was a really hand-
some face and not unintelligent. It was, however, a set
face, the mouth hard, the eyes narrowed and watchful.
The youth was pulling on gloves, and when he was set
the swarthy one handed him the knife, then gripped Susan
again, holding her down flat. She felt her skirt being slit
and she clenched her teeth. This was it. They were going
to cut the clothes off her. They were going to attack her
right there while the truck was moving. She closed her
eyes to blot the picture from her mind and tried to pray.
There was only another little cut, taking a small swatch
from the hem of her dress and she opened her eyes again.
The youth held a jagged piece of beige cloth in his gloved
hands and he returned the knife.
"The envelope's in my pocket."
The youth nodded and picked an envelope from the side
jacket pocket of the swarthy one and Susan had a glimpse
of a stamp and writing on its face. The youth carefully
tucked the piece of cloth inside, then licked the flap and
sealed it. He climbed around the other man and held the
envelope over the stack of cartons up front to the driver.
"Here it is."
Susan watched the operation and when he returned, she
said faintly, "What are you doing? What do you want?'*
"Shut up," the swarthy one told her. He turned. "Hand-
kerchief, Allie."
The youth gave him a handkerchief and he said to
Susan, "Open your mouth."
120
 She thought of refusing but he had the knife and she
knew it was useless. She let him stuff the handkerchief in
her mouth and she held it with her teeth. It was too well

organized. There was no escape and nothing to do but

obey.
The truck came to a stop and started up again. That was
the stop sign at the bottom of High Ridge Road, Susan
thought. Now
they were traveling north on Lake Avenue.
It was a bold group that had seized her. They were head-
ing right for the center of Stockford. Unless they made a
turn they'd pass within fifty yards of the police station,
right by its very nose.
"Rope," the harsh man said and AUie gave him a length
of clothesline. He wrapped
it around her head and tied it

tight across hermouth, shearing the end with that wicked

knife. The handkerchief was now jammed so tight it nearly
choked her and the coarse rope cut into the corners of
her lip.

There was a ransom note in that letter. She knew that

now. Kidnapping was something she'd only heard about,
an archaic crime. It was something gangsters did long ago,
years and years before she was born. But suddenly it
wasn't history any more, it was real. Tears blurred her
vision and one ran across her temple into her hair. What
was going to become of her?
The hard-eyed man started tying her hands. He knotted
the rope around one wrist, then made
her lift herself so
he could pass it behind her. He pulled her hand taut
against her leg, then looped the rope around her other
wrist. When that was done, he brought the rope across her
thighs and tied the end to the first wrist again. It was
simple but effective. With the rope passing in front and
in back of her legs there was no way to bring her hands
together to undo the knots.
Susan watched the process and it began to dawn on her
that her captors were very careless. Neither wore masks
and the first had called the second by name. When they
were through with what they planned to do with her, she'd
be able to identify them.
She began to pay attention to where they were going. It
would be to a hide-out, and when she could get to the
police, anything she could remember about the trip might
help lead them there. Right now they would be on Mead-
121
ow Street. Traffic was getting heavier and they were ap-
proaching the center of town.
The man was through tying her and he eased back but
he didn't relax. He looked at his partner, at the wall of
boxes that partitioned them from the driver, and he lis-
tened with every nerve alert.
The truck slowed as it hit the in-town traffic and then
it came to a halt. That would be at the Center Street stop-

light, Susan thought. The truck no sooner stopped, how-

ever, than there was the sound of the handbrake being
yanked and then the door opening. She wondered at that
but her captors showed no surprise, only a heightened
sense of alertness.
Suddenly there was the blast of a police whistle sound-
ing from somewhere in the intersection. The two men
froze instantly, as if in panic, and Susan's heart leaped.
Close by, a voice of authority said, "Pull in around the
comer!"
The driver's seat creaked, the door slammed again and
the handbrake was let off. "They won't dare," Susan
thought. "They'll make a run for it and then the cops
will be after them!" For the first time she could see
herself being saved and even the reappearance of the gun
in the swarthy man's hand didn't frighten her.
The truck inched ahead and started to turn. Susan's
heart pounded. The man handed his gun to Allie and
threw himself on her with the viciously sharp blade of the
knife touching her throat. "You keep still and you won't
get hurt," he breathed in her face and it was a fetid
breath. "One peep and I'll cut your head off before you
can get it out."
She knew just as certainly as she lay there that he meant
exactly what he said. Through his hard, cruel eyes she
could see his own desperation and this was terrorizing
in itself. In fear he would do anything and he might, in
panic, kill her needlessly.
She lay perfecdy still as the truck came to a halt, clos-

ing her eyes to blot out the sight of the knife and blot out
the fear in the face of its wielder. She could feel the
wicked sharpness of the edge against the softness of her
throat and she fancied she could feel blood flowing. She
scarcely dared swallow lest the expansion make the knife
cut deeper.
122
 "

A different voice sounded at the door of the truck say-

ing, "What do you mean stopping like that?" This was
followed by the first voice she'd heard. It said, "What's
the matter, Wade? You'd've let her go if I hadn't sig-

naled."
"No, Chief. I was just going to hail her."
Susan's heart beat harder, half in hope and half in fear.
There were two policemen at the truck and one was the
chief. They must certainly find her but what would her
captors do if they did? She couldn't see Allie but he was
ready with the gun while the other had the knife against
her flesh.
"All right," the chief said. "Get back to the traffic."
"Yes, sir."
One was leaving and her heart sank. Still she listened
breathlessly as the chief's voice went on, "Now then, what
do you think you're doing?"
"I didn't mean anything, sir," came the answer. "I was
just mailing a letter."
It was a girl's voice! It was a girl driving the truckl
Susan's hopes rose. She could appeal to a giri. giri A
would have sympathy even if she were part of the plot.
A would keep the men from banning her.
giri
Thechief was saying, "I saw you were mailing a letter.
What's so important about that letter that you think you
can hold up rush hour traffic to get it in a box?"
"I'm son-y, sir. I didn't realize. I saw the box and —
"What do you think, that that's the only mailbox in
town? Where're you from?"
The giri sounded very nervous. "Pittsfield, sir."
"Pittsfield? Is that the way you drive in Pittsfield?"
"No, sir."
"Let me see your license."
"Really, sir, I didn't mean to do anything wrong."
"Just let me see your driver's license, please."
There was silence for a bit and Susan trembled with the
suspense. "Arrest her," she prayed. 'Tell her to drive to
the station."
"Valentine May?" the chief said. "Is that your name?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where do you live. Miss May?"
*Twenty-six Bentwood Street." She went on, "Please,
123
Chief, it was just a letter to my boyfriend. I wanted him
to get it tomorrow."
"At all costs, eh?"
"I'm afraid I didn't think. Are you going to give me a
ticket?"
Susan lay there listening to the girl's voice. The clear
innocence of it was amazing. She could be merely return-
ing from work for all her tone betrayed her.
"I'm not going to give you a ticket," the chief said, "just
a warning. The next time you're in this town, don't hold
up traffic. We have enough of a problem without lovesick
girls blocking cars to mail letters to their boyfriends. Use
your head when you're driving and you'll live longer. AH
right, you may go."
The truck started up and Susan, her eyes closed, could
feel the tears blind them again. The truck paused for
traffic, then made a left turn and cut back. It was going
around the triangle of green right past the town hall and
police headquarters, right past her last hope.
They picked up Meadow and
Street again, heading north,
Susan thought of Jamie for the firstand Dick's
time. Pete
wasn't more than three blocks away. If she'd only gone
there— if she'd only been willing to wait for him, hours

and hours if necessary!

The man moved and the knife went away. It didn't go
far, though, for the man sat down on the floor close by,
between her and his companion, and he kept fingering
the blade ominously. She peeked at him through shuttered
eyes and it made her afraid all over again. She had never
seen such evil in a human face before and she yearned
desperately for the end of the journey when the girl who
drove would join them.
They rode interminably and in silence, the two men
sitting like Buddhas, jouncing slightly, but not talking.
Susan's mouth was sore from the cutting of the rope but
she had long since ceased to think about that. Her hope
lay in the driver. The girl behind the wheel was the only
one left she could turn to for any kind of protection.
The route out Meadow was the one Susan took to
Pittsfield five days a week to college and she knew when
the turn was made that they had reached the easterly end
of Meadow where it curved around and picked up the
north extension of Center Street. They rode again to the
124
north but not all the way to Pittsfield. Somewhere, short

of the city, the truck made a left turn onto a quiet road.
The hide-out, then, was in the outskirts to the south. She
wondered if she could find the road when the police asked
her to retrace her path and she kept her eyes closed, lis-
tening, feeling, and smelling, trying to make mental note
of every clue.
There were some more turns and she wondered if a
were being followed to confuse her. Then
circuitous route
the truck moved more slowly. That meant the road was
narrow. There were curves and no hint of passing cars. It
might be woods. Somehow the sounds had a different tone
to them. They didn't have the quality of sound in open
spaces.
There was a sharp turn to the right and now the road
was very rough, almost as if there were no road at all.
The truck rattled and bounced even at a crawl and after a
short distance it came to a dead stop.
Susan opened her eyes. She wondered if they were there
but neither of the two men moved. The silence and the
waiting grew into agony for her. Suddenly there was the
rasp of the door handle turning. Susan lifted her head as
the doors swung wide.
It was the girl standing there. She was lean and browned
in her dungarees and her voice had the snap of a whip.
"All right, get her out. Allie, bring the gasoline."
That she was the boss was obvious by the way the
youths obeyed. Susan was shoved and pulled from the
truck by both men and the treatment was rough and heed-
less. She ripped a stocking and scratched her leg on one of
the floor bolts and the slit in her dress tore some more.
Then she was on her feet outside while the one called
Allie dragged out a heavy gasoline can.
The girl was beside her and Susan could, for the first
time, see into her eyes. They were the coldest green in the
world. Bitterness and hatred were in their depths and a
fearful glitter at their surface. Next to her the two
frightening youths were children. They were in it as a job
but this girl took relish in the work.
Susan's heart slowed and her skin turned cold. She had
been frightened before, but now the terror reached her
soul.

125
 PART III

Chief Fred C. Fellows

 Monday, May 2y, igS^

Fred C. Fellows, Chief of the Stockford Police Force, had

probably heard the name before, but the first time he be-
came consciously aware that Susan Partridge had ever
existed was at dinnertime on Monday the twenty-seventh
of May. He was putting away seconds on meat but shun-
ning potato in his constant attempt to keep his weight from
ballooning when the call came in. Being a man of heavy
build and frame, he could hold a lot of weight, but he
already had all of that he wanted and if he let himself go,
he could put on another fifty pounds in no time.
He said, "I'll get it," at the jangling of the telephone but
Katie, his seventeen-year-old, said, "I will," and was off

in a way that hoped for some particular boy.

Fellows nodded at her exit and said, "A new romance?"
Cessie, his wife, shrugged. "You've got me. I haven't
seen her like that before. Usually she couldn't care less."
"She can afford not to care the way they come around."
Katie returned, a little subdued. "It's for you, Dad. It's
the station."
Fellows smiled. "Better luck next time." He thrust his
napkin aside and went into the bedroom. It was Sergeant
Gorman's day off and Hogarth was subbing on the desk.
The chief said, "Yeah, Bill, what is it?" His tone was
sober now for Hogarth wasn't one to call up about nothing.
"Chief? You know the Partridges on Cobbler's Lane?"
"I know the name."
"They think their daughter might have been kidnapped."
Fellows felt his insides sink a litde. Robberies, holdups,
even brawls he could take in stride but accidents, beatings,
murder and rape, acts wherein people got hurt, particularly
children, pained him deeply. "What's her name?" he said.
"How old is she? What happened?"
129
 "She's nineteen. Her name's Susan. What happened is
that neighbors of the Partridges came upon Susan's con-
vertible standing empty and off on the shoulder of High
Ridge Road. They thought she'd had car trouble but the
keys were in it and her purse, and the car started right
off. They drove the car back to the Partridges' and told
Mrs. Partridge about it. When Mr. Partridge got home he
called us. I sent Henderson up to see him but I thought
you'd better know about it."
"What time was the car found?"
"It was brought back a little before five. Mr. Partridge
didn't get in till half past six and he called right away.
He's sure she's been abducted and he's plenty worried."
"Yeah," Fellows said. "I can guess. All right, get hold
of Wilks and Lewis. Tell Ed I want the car fingerprinted
right away. Get hold of the Partridges. I want them and
the people who discovered the car to meet me at the place
it was found. Tell Wilks I'm going to want a search of the

woods in that area. He'll need a dozen men. Get the day
shift and supernumeraries. Get a description of the girl
and send it to the State Police. Have you checked the
hospital or the morgue?"
"No, think—"
I didn't
"Do that before you call the State Troopers. Call
Partridge first. I want him at the spot when I get there and
I'llbe going right out."
Fellows hung up and returned to the dining room
where he outlined the problem briefly while swallowing a
last couple of mouthfuls of meat. "I'm glad we don't have
money and live where they're empty roads," he said. "I'm
glad Katie doesn't have a car of her own."
"I'm not," Katie said.
"Things happen to girls who drive around alone, par-
ticularly in convertibles where they can't lock themselves
in."
"Ican take care of myself."
Fellows sighed. "That's what they aU say," he told her
and left.

The was ten years old. It was not as up-

car he drove
to-date as his childrenwould have liked but he hadn't yet
succumbed to their blandishments for it was in good shape.
He took care of his things and he handled it now smoothly,
traveling quickly but with judgment so that he never had
130
 —

to slam on brakes any more than he ever took off with

spinning tires.
The car looked poor alongside Partridge's sleek black
Cadillac which, with Henderson's police car, was drawn
up at the side of High Ridge Road near the spot the
convertible had been picked up. Fellows got out and was
introduced to Partridge, to Mrs. Partridge, and to Mr. and
Mrs. Cass who'd come down with them. Mr. Cass had
driven Susan's convertible home and he showed the chief
where it had been standing. By the time Fellows had
examined the broken bushes and tire marks in the dirt,
two more cars had pulled up and more were arriving. A
supernumerary got out of the first and Detective Sergeant
Sidney G. Wilks stepped from the other.
Fellows briefed Wilks on the little he knew and showed
him the marks of the car. "Looks like she might have
backed in here trying to get away, then tried to go forward
again and spun the tires. Looks like that kind of mark.
She gave it the gas too fast on an uphill lie and stalled.
Cass says the ignition was on but the engine was dead."
"Yougot an alarm out?"
"Eight-state alarm. Hogarth's putting her description on
the wires." He turned to Partridge who was beside them.
"Blonde, you say, Mr. Partridge?"
didn't
and tense, nodded. "Sort of a honey
Partridge, white
blonde," he said stiffly. "About five five and a half, a
hundred and twenty to twenty-five pounds."
"Know what she was wearing?"
He shook his head. "Mrs. Partridge might."
More supernumeraries and policemen were arriving and
the narrow winding road was choked with cars. Mrs.
Partridge said Susan was wearing a beige linen dress with
brown buttons and no coat. Fellows said, "Was there
Where's Mr. Cass? Was there anything in the car when you
found it, Mr. Cass? Her shoes, her pocketbook, anything
like that?"
"Her pocketbook was there, and a lot of schoolbooks
tumbled around on the seat."
"Did they look like a struggle had taken place?'*
"I don't know. I wouldn't — they might have. Some were
on the floor."
Wilks went off to get the search started and Fellows
questioned Partridge and his wife on any trouble Susan
131
might have had with sex deviates, degenerates, exhibition-
ists,threatening phone calls or letters, anything at all out
of the ordinary. So far as they knew there had been noth-
ing of that kind at all. Her life had been totally normal.
Fellows went over to watch the search get under way
and give a few orders himself. He studied the terrain and
came back with Wilks to the Partridges again. "Where
had Susan been, Mr. Partridge? Where was she coming
from?"
"College. She commutes five days a week."
"She come home the same time every day?"
Mrs. Partridge said, "Usually. Her last class is over at
three-thirty and she generally gets home about quarter
past four. It's never later than five."
"Is there much trafl&c on this road?"
"Very little."
Partridge said, "What do you want to know all this
for? What do you happened?"
think's
"It looks to me like this was planned," Fellows said
soberly. "It appears her car was stopped by some kind of
—
road block probably another car. If so, she was pre-
sumably taken away in the other car. I can't see any
other explanation right now."
"Then you don't think she was taken down in the
woods?"
"I don't think they'll find anything down there, no." He
turned. "Henderson," he called. "Get up to Cobbler's
Lane. Go to every house. See if anybody up there was
driving on this road somewhere around four o'clock and
if they saw a car parked on this grade. If so, get a de-
scription of the car and who was in it. Get everything
you can. I want to know if they didn't see a car at that
time tool"
Henderson hurried away and the chief told one of the
supernumeraries to flag every car that came by and pose
the same question. To Partridge he said, "You got some-
one at home minding the telephone?"
"My son. If he gets any information he'll come right
down here. You think it's a real kidnapping?"
"For ransom? I doubt it. But I think it's a real kid-
napping for some reason. That's why I want to know
about the men in her life. She have any boyfriends?"
132
 "She's got a lot of them," Partridge said heavily. "The
house is overrun with swains."

"Any of them strike you as capable of something like

this?"
Neither Partridge nor his wife could think of any.
"Johnny might know —
our son."
Fellows nodded. "Sid," he said to Wilks, "I want the
FBI called in on this right away. She might've been taken
across a state line and there's no point in hampering
them. I want all the area newspapers given the story and
I want them to make a plea for anyone passing this way
between three-thirty and four-thirty to report it to the
police. I want to know if they saw a car parked here or
not.
"Then I want the dragnet out for all known criminals
in —
town and all sex deviates everybody who's ever done
anything."
"We don't have many, Fred. I'd guess no more than
six."
"Get them all in and interrogate them just the same.
Also, make sure every police department of every town
around is alerted. I want them to do the same thing. I
want everybody who's got a black mark against his name
from New Haven to the New York state line and up as
far as Pittsfield made to produce an aUbi for four o'clock
to quarter of five this afternoon."
Wilks scribbled down the orders and left without a
word. Fellows turned to Partridge. "Let's go to your
place. I want to see Susan's car and talk to your son."

Monday Evening
Ed Lewis was finding little on Susan's car. There was no
blood and what few fingerprints were available seemed to
be hers or Mr. Cass's. Fellows told him to vacuum it for
dust analysis and went on to the low, handsome mansion
in the company of the Partridges and the Casses.
John Partridge met them at the door with the news
that calls had come from friends and reporters but no
mysterious voices volunteered information about Susan.
133
 He was a handsome youth of sixteen with a sensitive
face and light brown hair only a shade darker than his
sister's.
Mr. Partridge, mindful that he was a host, rang for
the butler and offered drinks around. The Casses accepted
and Mrs. Cass sat with Delia Partridge on the couch, rest-
ing a hand lightly on her friend's knee now and then but
saying nothing. Mrs. Partridge was pale and constantly
moistened her lips as if to speak. Only once or twice did
she say anything and then it was only to remark, "It's
hard to believe it can be happening to you. I keep want-
ing to turn back the clock and start it over again so it
would come out right."
Fellows refused the drink, nor did he wait for those
amenities before beginning his questions. When he took
over the others were silent. He was the authority. He was
the one who'd get Susan back, the one who'd find out
where she went. The gold badge on his shirt said so
and so did his manner. It was quiet but it commanded.
In times of stress he seemed to stand forth from a
group. He drew the attention, attracted the stares.
He directed his questions to Johnny and the youth
helped where he could but his knowledge was scanty.
There were at least eight boys he could name with whom
Susan had had dates since the first of the year. She was
not one to go steady because, as she put it, steady dating
made one miss too many good times.
Fellows dutifully recorded the names and said, "Her
viewpoint isn't that of a girl in love, obviously. But does
she have any favorites?"
"I think she is in love," Johnny replied. "She doesn't
mention it and she doesn't show it, but some boy gave her
a ring."
Partridge sat up. "Say, that's right. It's a pretty damned
fine ring, too. Much too good for a boy to be giving a
girl. I didn't fancy that at all. She's too young to be
thinking about marriage."
"It was an engagement ring?" Fellows asked.
"No. It was an emerald ring in a gold setting. Two
emeralds, side by side, and they were fair-sized stones,
too. I think that ring must have been worth a good five
hundred dollars!"
Fellows felt the first stirrings of hope. Perhaps it was
134
an elopement and not kidnapping after all. "Who's the
boy?" he asked.
There was no reply and surprise overlaid his hope.
"Don't any of you know?" he said with an edge of disap-
proval in his tone.
Heads shook and Partridge said, "She wouldn't open her
mouth. I said, 'Where'd you get that ring?' and she
said it was given to her. I said, 'Who?' and she said, 'A
friend.' I let it go at that. If she didn't want to tell, I
didn't have any right to force it out of her. I did ask
her if it was an engagement ring and she said it wasn't.
She said it was only a token ring, whatever that is."
Johnny said, "She probably means like a frat pin. If
they break up she gives it back."
"It doesn't sound like quite the same thing to me," Fel-
lows said. "I take it this was a girl's ring? It sounds Uke
the boy bought it for her."
"A pretty expensive present," Partridge said. "Let's see,
who'd have that kind of money? Johnny, which of these
boys do you think it could be? The Weymouth family
has about the most money, I guess. You think it's Bob
Weymouth?"
Johnny had doubts about Bob Weymouth. In fact, he
couldn't imaginewho it might be.
Maybe it's somebody not on this Ust," Fellows sug-
gested.
"These are the ones who've come to the house, sir."
all
"Who you know about, in other words?"
The family looked from one to the other at that and
jBnally Partridge said, "Well, I can't say. Anybody who'd
give her a ring like that — —
and if she liked him I don't
know why we wouldn't have heard about him. I don't
know why she'd keep a love secret." He caught the ex-
pression in the chief's eye and added quickly, "I'm not
naive. I know what you're thinking. There might be an
affair going on. I don't think it's likely, though of course
it's possible. Even so, I'd expect she'd bring the boy around.

On the basis of the ring, it's hardly someone she could be

ashamed of.'*

Fellows had to agree and suggested the listed boys be

called up about the matter. Johnny undertook the task
and the chief had Mrs. Partridge collect some pictures of
the girl for publicity purposes. From Mr. Partridge he
135
sought further information about Susan's personality, sense
of responsibility, general behavior and attitudes. He was
hoping to uncover evidence that she had run away but
the hope was faint. Partridge believed her not the type.
Besides that, there were final exams coming up. There
was the Commencement Ball, to which she'd invited the
Weymouth boy, and there were summer plans. "If she
was going to run away," Partridge said with telling
logic, "I'd hardly expect it to be that sudden. Wouldn't
she at least come home to pack a bag?"
Johnny's phone calls developed nothing, nor did Lewis'
examination of the car. When Fellows left at half past
eight all he had were the pictures Mrs. Partridge had
produced. Even the hope of elopement had vanished for
nothing supported that at all.
He said little to the worried parents for there was little
to offer. When girls disappeared, the worst had to be ex-
pected. A period of rape and terror at the very least,
murder at most. Neither picture was pretty. He hoped
she was alive but he was grimly prepared for her death.
—
The nicer the girl the stronger her morals the more—
likely that she had died. Too much resistance to attack,
too obvious a tendency to expose the perpetrator was
virtual insurance of murder. And Susan Partridge,
judging from her pictures and what was said about her,
seemed the kind of nice girl who would incur such a fate.
The chief had an empty ache inside as he climbed into
his car.

Monday Night
The carswere gone from High Ridge Road when the
chief came down and he drove back to headquarters grim-
ly. Hogarth was there, behind the desk, and so were two
patrolmen with two seated and sullen visitors picked up in
the dragnet. One was a lush who'd passed three bad checks
over a two-year period. The other was the son of a doc-
tor who'd been in trouble on drunk driving and two hit-
and-run accidents involving other cars, plus a number of
charges of evading responsibility, failure to obey a police
136
officer, and abusing a police officer. Fellows also knew he'd
got a girl in trouble but that hadn't come to his of-
ficial attention.
Hogarth told the chief that search parties had found
no clues of any kind, that Wilks was interrogating a sus-
pect in the office and that Lieutenant Carl Biloxi of the
State Police and an agent of the FBI were with him.
"Who's the suspect?"
"James Montgomery Hendel. Wilks has the file on him."
Fellows knew who Hendel was without the file. Beatnik
poet he called himself. Had a room at 234 Williams Street
and no visible means of support other than attendant at
a gas station when the spirit or the need moved him, which
it usually didn't. He'd been charged by a young woman

with stealing a watch which he claimed was a gift. He

and the woman talked it over and the charge was dropped,
though whether he kept the watch or gave it back Fel-
lows did not know.
The outside door opened and another policeman came
in with a youth for questioning. He was the son of one of
the fire commissioners who'd done time in a reformatory
for car theft and he said, "My dad's not going to like
you for this," to the chief before taking a seat.
Fellows turned away and said to Hogarth, "Put out the
word that the girl was wearing a gold ring with twin
emeralds in it and get me the stolen property list." He
opened the door to his office.
Hendel was just leaving and already on his feet. "Well,"
he sneered. "The Big Cheese himself."
Fellows looked him over. Hendel wore a T-shirt and
dungarees and his face was unshaven and unreconciled.
His invisible means of support was undoubtedly women,
though the charm he had for them eluded the chief. To
Fellows the man was beneath contempt and this assess-
ment showed in his face. He didn't speak to Hendel but
said over his shoulder to Wilks, "This one have right
answers?"
Wilks, at the chiefs desk, said, "He claims he was at
Pete and Dick's Bar from quarter past four till quarter past
five. I just got hold of Pete Lacoske and he confirms it."
"Ever know Susan Partridge, Hendel?"
"No."
Fellows stepped aside. "You can go. But don't go too
137
far." He closed the door after him quietly, then greeted
Lieutenant Biloxi and was introduced to the FBI agent.
"The alarm out? The newspapers been called?" he asked.
"Both," Wilks told him. "You pick up any pictures of
the girl?"
Fellows produced them and related what else he had
learned, particularly about the ring. "When Hogarth
brings in the missing-property list we'll find out if it was
stolen or not."
"You think it's a stolen ring?" Biloxi inquired. "What
gives you that idea?"
"You ever hear the story of the hungry wolf?'*
"No."
"Well, there was this hungry wolf who kept hanging
around this flock of sheep but he could never get a chance
at one of the sheep because the shepherd was a dead shot
with a rifle and never relaxed his guard. So, deciding he
couldn't manage anything by a direct attack, the wolf
determined on deceit. He disguised himself as a lamb by
covering himself from head to foot with white flour and
then, hiding his tail between his legs and making the
proper noises, he boldly joined the flock. Well, sir, he
was just about to pounce on the nearest unsuspecting sheep
when a shot rang out and he fell, mortally wounded.
"Over came the shepherd and the dying wolf looked up
and said, 'How did you catch me? I disguised myself in
a coat as white as the most newborn lamb.' And the
shepherd said, 'That's right. The giveaway is, none of
"
my sheep are that clean!'
The FBI agent, a tall,quiet man named Franklin,
smiled faintly. "And the moral of that story is?"
"The moral is that that ring sounds like too expensive
a present for a rich kid to give her. Add to that the fact
she won't say where it came from and the boys her
folks've met deny any knowledge of it and it sounds like
someone her folks don't know and aren't supposed to.
That doesn't make him sound like a proper kind of guy
to begin with. So where would an improper guy come by
such a ring? You've got to admit, the possibility he stole
it shouldn't be overlooked. And if Hogarth can get that

list in here sometime tonight we might be able to run

through it."
Hogarth came in then with the two-page, single-spaced,
138
typewritten list of missing, stolen or lost articles and the
chief bent over the table running his finger down the
lines. "Here," he said. "Listen to this: '3/28/63 Ring. —
Twin % carat emeralds in gold setting. Value $450. In-
scription: "Evelyn: All my love, Roger. May 16, 1954."
Disappeared sometime in March 1963 from home of Mr.
and Mrs. Roger Knowles, 54 Crestwood Drive, Stock-
ford.' " He looked up. "Any of you gentlemen want to make
any bets?"
Biloxi said, "That sounds like a lead, all right. Any
clues turn up in the investigation of the theft?"
"Check Hogarth," Fellows said, giving him back the
it,

sheets. "See who handled the complaint and bring me

the file."
Hogarth returned with the file in two minutes but it
contained litde. The ring was a fortieth birthday gift
and it had been first missed on March twenty-eighth. Mrs.
Knowles thought it had been in her jewelry box but
couldn't swear to it. Thus the ring might have been lost
or misplaced as well as stolen. Questioning of the couple
and their maid was conducted but nothing developed.
The integrity of the maid was vouched for by both Mr.
and Mrs. Knowles. A
description of the ring and offer of a
reward was circulated to pawn shops, etc.
Biloxi shrugged. "It looks now as if the ring was
stolen all right, but I don't see how that helps identify
the girl's abductor."
"It doesn't," Fellows admitted. "Not by itself. But if,
as we are coming to suspect, the person who stole it also
kidnapped Susan Partridge, we're starting to learn things
about him. My guess is he'll have a record here or in one of
the nearby towns. The dragnets should either pick him
up or show him missing. At least that's the closest thing
we have to a lead rightnow."
"And if he does have a record, the record
is probably

here in Stockford."
"There's a good chance of it, Carl. Let's see who we don't
turn up. And meanwhile, I think we can start bringing up
the question of that ring in these interrogations." He
took a seat at the table. "Let's see what the next guy can
teU us."

139
 Tuesdayy May 28

It was a disheartened Fred Fellows who reported in on

Tuesday morning. Not only was he weary from long hours
of interrogation but discouraged from lack of success.
Every single Stockford resident with a black mark against
his name had been rounded up the preceding night.
Every single one denied knowing Susan Partridge and
every single one had a solid alibi for the kidnap time.
The chief was used to disappointments in his work but he
couldn't swallow them well where human lives were in-
volved and where the case was desperate.
He tacked Susan's picture to the bulletin board and
ordered all officers to memorize her face but that was
hardly progress. Her photographs had already been picked
up by the press and appeared with the story in the morn-
ing editions.
He sent Dzanowski to Pittsfield to ask questions at
Susan's college but that only produced the information
that Sue had left about twenty minutes of four and seemed
normal in every way. He talked to the swelling crowd of
reporters that was being drawn to the case but the only
news was that a Mrs. Beebe had called in to say she saw
the abandoned convertible on High Ridge Road at twenty-
five of five when she took her children to the summit for
a picnic supper. Tuesday morning was, in short, the period
of low ebb, that dead interval between the starting of
police machinery and its first concrete results. It was the
period when Fellows felt defeated and helpless; when he
wondered what was happening to the girl right then while
he sat around and waited.
The dead period in this case, however, was only one
morning long. At quarter of two that afternoon the first
of the series of explosions that followed burst on Fellows
as he sat in his office with Sid Wilks and Carleton
Lawrence, editor of the Stockford Weekly Bulletin, who
was waiting out his three o'clock deadline.
It was a long-distance phone call from Pittsfield and the
woman on the other end of the line said she was Miss
140
 " "

Belford of the Pittsfield College for Women. Fellows sat

up just a little straighter and dug a pad out from the raft
of papers that cluttered his desk. "Yes, Miss Belford. What
can I do for you?"
"I'm sorry I wasn't here when your man came this
morning but there was this Board of Trustees meeting and
then there was a luncheon and I only just got in and heard
that a Mr. Dzanowski had been here asking questions."
"That's right, Miss Belford."
"I don't know if this is important or not and I hate to
bother you
—
"It's no bother at all."
"Well, it's only that, well, I saw Susan just before she
left yesterday afternoon. I want to say how terribly sorry
I am to hear about Susan. I hope that everything's going
to be all right."
"We all hope so, Miss Belford. You saw Susan, you were
saying?"
"Yes, well, that's because there was this message. Some-
one phoned the college yesterday afternoon and left a
message for her."
"Do you have the message?"
"Yes. It's only because it mentioned four o'clock that
I thought it might be significant. It was from somebody
named Jamie who said he'd meet her at four o'clock."
Fellows sat straighter still and his pencil made rapid
marks on the pad. "Jamie who? And four o'clock where?"
"That's it. He didn't say. He didn't give any last name
and he said she'd know where."
"What time did the message come in?"
"About three o'clock. I thought because he said
four, you know
—
"And did you give the message to Susan?"
"Yes, sir. I told Shirley Jensen to give it to her but then
I saw Susan going by the office and I called to her
and asked her and she said she hadn't seen Shirley so then
I told her about it and she said thank you and that was
the last time I saw her. I thought just possibly it might
be important and, of course, I want to do anything I can
to help—"
"Howdid she react when you told her? Can you recall
exactly what she said and did?"
Miss Belford reflected for a moment and then said with
141
 some disappointment, "All I can remember is that she
you and went on."
said thank
"Did she act as if she'd keep the appointment?"
would term her reaction noncommittal. I'm afraid
"I
that's the best I can say about it."
The chief put the phone down with a thank you and
swung his chair around. "Jamie!" he said to Wilks and
Lawrence. "And that's not the name of any boy who
came to the house. And he'd meet her at four o'clock at a
place she'd know. He's no casual friend, Sid, and it's
better than two to one he's the donor of that emerald
ring!" He swung back and picked up the phone again.
"Let's see what the Partridges know about somebody
named Jamie."
It was Partridge who answered and
his voice was a hesi-
tant "yes?" as a kidnapper might be on the other end.
if

When Fellows told him who he was, the man's manner

changed abruptly. It became one of panic. "Please, Chief,"
he pleaded. "I've got nothing to say."
"I want some information," Fellows went on. "You
know anything about a boy named Jamie?"
Partridge said without hesitation, "No, no I swear.
Please. We just want to be left alone."
Fellows' brows came down and he sat bolt upright
"What's happened?"
"Nothing. Please. Let's forget the whole thing. It was
all a mistake."
"What do you mean a mistake?"
was a mistake. That's all. I don't want the police in
"It
this any more. Everything's all right. We don't need you
any more."
Fellows turned over a page on his pad and poised his
pencil. "All right, what did they say?"
"Who say?"
"The kidnappers. What did they tell you to do be-
sides call off the police?"
Partridge's voice grew desperate. "I don't know what
you're talking about."
"Who's with you?"
"Nobody. My wife, my son, the servants. Please,
Chief—"
Fellows was not to be put off. "You've received a mes-
sage from the kidnappers, haven't you? They've threat-
142
 " "

ened to harm her if you don't call off the police. Isn't
that right?"
The other man broke then and his voice was almost a
sob. "Yes, yes."
"What's the note say, Mr. Partridge?"
Partridge stumbled through it haltingly. " 'We got
Susan. Get $100,000 in unmarked bills no bigger than $20
by Thursday. Don't call police or you'll never see her
again. Wait for next note with this sign. We mean busi-
ness.' Then there's a funny kind of symbol at the bottom.
Can't you see what that means? Please. Have mercy. Call
everybody off. Forget it ever happened. Please. For her
sake."
Fellows, scribbling down the note, said, "Is the letter
handwritten?"
"Look, I'm not going to talk about it any more. Leave me
alone."
Fellows threw down the pencil and his voice took on a
roughness seldom heard. "What do you think, Partridge,
that these kidnappers are going to show sympathy for
your daughter? Do you think you're going to placate
them by being a good boy? Don't interrupt, I'm not
through. I'm going to let you have it straight, Partridge,
because that's the only way to do it. Your daughter
could be dead for all you know
—
"No, no," he fairly shouted. "She's alive. They sent
proof."
"What proof?"
"A piece of her dress. It was in the letter."
"What does that prove, other than that they've got her?
That doesn't prove she's Now
understand me, Par-
alive.
tridge. We're not going to do anything
to provoke the
kidnappers. We'll stay out of the case. We won't make
any moves until you get her back, but we're going to
be working under cover —
"No! Absolutely not! I forbid it!"
Fellows' harshness lessened but the firmness remained.
"Mr. Partridge, we'll do everything we can to protect your
daughter. Rest assured of that. But we've got to work
on We've got to try to catch these men."
this case.
want them caught. They can have my money
"I don't
and welcome. I'll never prosecute, I'll never do anything
if they send my daughter home unharmed."

143
 " "

"And what if they don't? What do you propose to do

then?"
"They won't hurt her, not if I do what they tell me."

"You can't be sure of that, Mr. Partridge. You've got to

letus work with you
—
"They won't hurt her," he said vehemently. "They won't
harm her if I do what they say. I don't want to talk to
you any more. I shouldn't have admitted I heard from
them. They'll have to know I didn't mean to. It was an
accident
—
"What's — ^look, Mr. Partridge, they're not listening to
you. They don't have your telephone line tapped."
"How do I know they don't? How do I know what they
can hear and what they can't? I'm not going to do a
single thing except what they tell me from now on. And
ifyou or any other policemen try to interfere, I'll won't — ^I

be responsible for what I do!" He slammed the phone down

with a crash that made the chief wince and his ear ring.
He looked helplessly at his receiver, hung it back and
massaged his face with his hands. "What do you do when
people won't listen to reason?" he said.
Wilks picked up the pad with the ransom note on it
and read it with Lawrence. He said, "The guy's terrified. I
guess I don't blame him. If I had a kid I'd feel the same
way."
"No you wouldn't," Fellows sighed. "You know crim-
inals, Sid, and you wouldn't co-operate with them like
this. They must be delighted at catching such a fool." He
shook his head. "The trouble is, honorable men can't be-
lieve how totally dishonorable other men can be."
"So what are you going to do?'*
"First we have to call off the papers. Sorry, Carl, but
you can't print any story today."
Lawrence, handing back the ransom note, said, "That
goes without saying."
"Thanks for understanding. But we've got to get hold
of that original note. We've got to do everything we can
before the kidnappers collect and clear out. Sid, you're
persuasive. Go out and see him. Talk to his wife and son
if he won't help. Get them to work on him. Try to
reach him, will you?"
Wilks got to his feet. "Sure, Fred. You going to call
BHoxi?"
144
 " — "

"Yeah," Fellows said unhappily. "Biloxi and the FBI.

I'll send the word out the girl's being held for ransom
and we've got to kill the story.'*
Wilks went out and Fellows made the calls, giving
them the story and reading them the note. He finished and
said to Lawrence, "You still here?"
"Why not? I may not be able to print it, but I sure
as hell want to know what happens."
"I'll tell you what happens next. I call the phone com-

pany."
"What for?"
"Somebody named Jamie left that message for Susan.
She was kidnapped here so maybe the call came from
here. If so, by God, the phone company'U have a record
of it and if we're really lucky, we might possibly learn
who Jamie is."
The phone rang as he reached for it and he waited
with his hand on it until Sergeant linger in the other room
called out, "Chief, it's Chief Crouch in Pittsfield."
Fellows lifted the receiver then. "Yeah," he said. "Fel-
lows."
"This is Chief Crouch of Pittsfield, Chief." Crouch
cleared his throat and said, "A body's been discovered."
Fellows didn't blink an eye. "The Partridge girl's?" he
asked.
"
"We don't have a definite identification yet, Chief
"I can guess that," Fellows said with a sharp edge to
his voice. "Do you think it's hers?"
Crouch hedged some more. "Well, you see, it's been
pretty badly damaged. It'd been soaked in gasoline and
set on fire. It in a cave by a couple of boys
was found
—
"You mean not identifiable?"
it's

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say that. Chief. It's a girl's

body and it's brand new. I mean within the last couple
of days and
—
"And the Partridge girl is the only one reported missing.
Is that it?"
"That's partly it."
"What's the rest of it?"
Crouch said, "Say, Fellows, what's your beef? You
think I done it or something? I'm only telling you what
we found."
"All right, all right. I just don't want to scare the
145
pants off the family dragging them up to Pittsfield for an
identification unless I'm damned good and sure the girl's
their daughter."
"Yeah? Well, I'm afraid you'd better get 'em up here
on accountta there's a ring on this girl's finger which
didn't bum and which has two emeralds in it."
Fellows said, "I see," in a soft, gentle voice. "Yeah. I
guess so. The poor kid. Any sign of cause of death?"
"Ain't found none yet, but of course we only just
got her outta the cave."
"Whereabouts is the place?"
"South of here in the woods a mile or so off route seven.
You come up seven and I'll have one of my men wait-
ing at the turnoff for you."
"Yeah. Half an hour. Chief. I have to get the father." He
hung up and exhaled slowly. "They found her," he said
to Lawrence.
"Dead?"
"Yeah."
"That's tough," Lawrence said. "I guess that tears it
Now I guess we run it, much as I wish we didn't have to."
Fellows shook his head. "No
running, Carl. We've got
to keep it killed all If the kidnapper knows
the more.
we've found the body, he's going to fade from the pic-
ture. We've got to keep him. We've got to persuade him
to go on with it."
"You going up there?"
"I'm going up, soon's I call Wilks to bring her father,
and as soon as I put in that call to the phone company.
I want to get my hands on that Jamie."
"O.K. if I tag along?"
"If you want to miss your deadline. There's no story
in it, you know." He dialed the Partridge home and
asked if Sergeant Wilks were there. While he waited
he pushed around the papers on his desk aimlessly. Then
he said, "Sid, I've got something to tell you."

146
 Tuesday Afternoon

Fellows and Lawrence arrived at the scene just before

three o'clock and the narrow winding road at the entrance
to the rutted lane was choked with cars. There was a quiet
ambulance with its red light flashing, half a dozen police
cars and some twenty other assorted varieties ranging from
a convertible somewhat like Susan's to a pickup truck.
Everywhere there were people, and three policemen were
busy managing traffic and keeping the lane cleared.
Fellows asked the nearest one where Chief Crouch was
and the officer pointed down the narrow way. "In there.
In where you see the doctor's car there's a trail up the hill
on the right. That'll take you to the cave."
"Where did all these people come from?"
"Something like this will always pull a crowd, sir."
Fellows plunged grimly down the grassy roadway ahead
of Lawrence and when they reached the doctor's car there
was no trouble seeing where to go next. The trail up the
hillside was well trampled and people, in uniform and out,
were coming and going. The pair started up and after a
short distance had to push their way through the throng
that clogged the path. Ahead, Crouch's voice could be
heard saying, "Come on, let's clear some space. No more
pictures now. I want everybody back except those with ur-
gent business. Marks, get 'em back."
People began to shuffle and Fellows and Lawrence final-
ly worked their way through. Crouch was glowering in the
middle of the trail while two officers tried to clear a space.
A photographer and three other men were with him and
in the center of the group, close by the black mouth of a
low cave entrance, lay a blanket-covered stretcher.
"Oh, there you are," Crouch said to Fellows. "That the
father?" Crouch was a short stocky man in his fifties with
a cross face and graying hair and while he had no great
claim to inteUigence he was a plodder and he knew the
rules and how to follow them.
"Sergeant Wilks is bringing the father," Fellows said.
"They'll be along."
147
 "

"Yeah." Crouch gestured at the blanket-covered form.

"Well, there she is. There's the body. You want to see it?"
"No."
"Yeah. Well was found in the cave. We got some pic-
it

tures in there before we brung it out. Don't know why

we're waiting here. The father could see her in the morgue
just as well. Thought maybe you'd like to see the spot,
though."
Fellows said tartly, "This herd of elephants isn't going
to make it easy to find clues. Who the hell are all these
people?"
"Reporters. Didn't let no people up here 'cepting re-
porters."
"Damn it, you can't let this story out. You've got to sit

on it. She might be the Partridge girl."

"Sit on it? Are you kidding? The newspapers got this
story before I did."
"Tell them to kill The family
got a ransom note this
morning. If it gets
it.

the girl is dead

out that
—
"Nobody told me there was a ransom note. How'm I
supposed to know something like that? Besides, you can't
keep something like this quiet. It went out on the wires a
couple of hours ago that a body was found here. I sup-
pose we don't have to say whose body it is, but you sure'n
hell can't hide thatwe found it."
"The kidnappers'U know whose it is all right. The mo-
ment they hear they'll disappear."
Crouch spread his hands. "Well what can I do? Look,
Fellows, there're these two kids, see? Johnny Hopson and
Billy Gale are their names, and they go to the junior high
where they have double sessions. They go the morning
one, eight to one. So this cave is a hangout for these kids.
You know kids. They got a secret society. Call themselves
'The Mysterious Three' or something like that. They're
twelve. You know. Seventh grade poop. So they come up
here now and then for meetings. They sit in the cave with
a candle and think it's hot stuff. So two of them decided
they'd bring up a picnic lunch after school. The other one
had to go to the dentist. So they come up and go in the
cave and they smell this stink. So they light their candle
and jump the hell out of their skin. There's this body in
thereall burned up.

"Well, they run for home — it's over the hill and down
148
 "

—and one of them gets his mother to come up. She thinks
they're imagining things, only when she gets to the mouth
of the cave here she can smell something too so she don't
go in, she goes back home and calls her brother who's on
the newspaper. He calls the precinct but he don't call the
precinct till he's on his way and by the time the precinct
captain sends a patrolman over to investigate, the news-
papermen are already here. What the hell can I do about
that? You tell me."
"Nothing can be done about it now, I guess," Fellows
said.
"O.K., play it up big. That's the best idea. Get the pub-
lic excited about it. That's the way to get action against
the kidnappers. So it was a ransom note, huh? I thought
it'd be rape."
"It might've been that too. What else have you got?'*
"Well, the precinct patrolman reported back it was a
body all right and the call came in downtown to send out
the works. The captain talked to the kids and some de-
tectives talked to the kids and they learned the kids were
in the cave last Friday and the body wasn't there then so
that makes it since Friday and when I heard that I re-
membered about this girl down your way who disappeared
and I have them check and, sure enough, she's wearing a
ring like your girl. So I called you and decided to come
out here myself."
Fellows nodded. "She been examined?"
"Doc Fink here give her a coarsery one."
"He teU the cause of death?"
"Not for sure yet. No obvious injuries like bullet
wounds or broken bones. Judging from the body a helluva
lot of gasoline was used and it's hard to figure out what
happened from what's left."
Wilks came plodding up the trail then with Mr. Par-
tridge behind. The group of reporters had dwindled a lit-
tle and had been moved back so the two had less trouble
getting through. Fellows introduced Chief Crouch but
Partridge's gaze was fixed on the blanket-covered figure.
From the moment he saw it he stood frozen.
Crouch tried to explain how they'd come upon the body
but Partridge never heard. Fellows took over. "Mr. Par-
tridge," he said, "I'm sorry to have to do this, but this
— —
body was found and it's just ah barely ^possible — —
149
 Partridge clenched his fists. "Let me see her," he
croaked.
Crouch went to the body and now Fellows turned to
look. The Pittsfield chief grasped the top corner of the
blanket and lifted it away with an even, practiced motion.
A hideously charred and blackened figure came into
view. Partridge stared and, for a long moment, time
seemed to stand still. Slowly his eyes bulged and his face
turned a more deadly white. Suddenly he screamed,
"Susan! Susan!" and fell on his knees.
Two men caught him as he collapsed. They laid him
out on the ground and he struggled. "It's my baby, it's my
baby," he called out and then his words were lost in
choking sobs. He fought against the men who held him
and Doctor Fink knelt beside him and opened his medical
bag. The sobs rose to screams again and again but when
Fink was through and closed his bag they dwindled to
low moans. Fink got to his feet and said, "Send for a
stretcher."
Crouch gave the order and a man hurried off. The ac-
tion broke the spell and the surrounding reporters started
off too. They had what they'd come for now.
Fellows, breathing heavUy, rubbed a hand over his face
and turned back to the body. It was frightful to look upon
for, as Crouch had said, a lot of gasoline had been used.
No trace of clothes remained and, in fact, the body itself
had been so nearly destroyed that it was only just about
possible to determine its sex. The flesh was charred and
shriveled and where bones and teeth showed through,
these too were blackened by fire. The only thing that re-
mained unharmed was the ring that glistened green and
gold on the fourth finger left hand.
It was the ring that Fellows wanted to see and he
stooped to peer. "All right to remove it?" he asked.
"I'll take it off," Crouch told him. "What do you want

with it?"
"A ring like that was reported stolen in Stockford last
March. If it's got, 'Evelyn: All my love, Roger. May 16,
1954.' on the inside of it, that's the ring."
Crouch worked the ring loose but the black bones and
fragments of flesh came too. He freed the ring and wiped
the inside. " 'Evelyn: All my love, Roger. May 16, 1954,'"
he read. "I guess that's it all right." He drew the blanket
150
across the body again and handed Fellows the ring. "You
make something out of this, then?"
somebody named Jamie gave it to her and if he
"I think
lives m
Stockford, as I think he does, I may be able to
lay my hands on him pretty quick."
"I'm sorry the papers got it, Fellows. We
might give out
a story claiming we don't know who she is. That's a pretty
hard corpse to identify. You gotta admit that."
"Her teeth didn't burn up. A
dental check will prove
who she is in no time and the kidnappers know it. We'll
just have to work fast, that's all."
"Well, if you want to keep that ring you better give me
a receipt.'*
"I want it." Fellows took out his pad and scribbled on
it, tearing off the page for Crouch. "Sid," he said, "I've got
to get back on this Jamie thing. Stay around and see
what you can pick up." He nudged Lawrence and added
heavily, "Well, you've got a story, I guess, if you want to
be late going to press." He started off, gazing down with
sad eyes and compressed Ups at Susan's father moaning
fitfully on the ground.

Tuesday, Late Afternoon

Hogarth was on the desk when Fellows got back to head-

quarters at four-thirty and the chiefs first words were, "Is
there a report from the phone company?"
"Yes, sir." Hogarth handed him a piece of paper on
which was written a phone number and the information
that a call from that number had been made to the
Pittsfield College for Women at 3 p.m. the preceding aft-
ernoon. The phone was in the name of Mrs. Louise
Almond, 234 Williams Street.
"Almond?" Fellows said and scowled. "Almond? Wil-
liams Street. Wait a minute. James Hendel. Jamie." He
snapped his fingers. "Why that son of a bitch! And we
had him last night!" He strode behind the desk and picked
up the microphone. "Harris from headquarters." He got
out his packet of chewing tobacco from his shirt pocket
151
and tore a piece with his teeth. The receiver said,
off
"This is Go ahead."
Harris.
"Harris," snapped the chief. "Go to 234 WilHams Street
and bring in a man named James Hendel. This is urgent.
It's in connection with the kidnapping. If he isn't there,

find out where he went, but get him. One other thing. He
might be dangerous so be careful. Better pick up a man
to cover the rear of the building. It's a boardinghouse."
"Yes, sir. On my way."
Fellows put down the mike and said, "Get the file on
Hendel."
"Right, Chief. What about the girl?"
"She's dead. She was murdered."
"That's tough. Hendel in it?"
"Up to his goddam neck. He had an alibi for the time
of the kidnapping but that doesn't mean he didn't set her
up for it."

He stalked into his office and threw himself heavily

into his chair. He pushed the accumulation of papers
around on his desk aimlessly for a bit and then drummed
with his fingers impatiently. Finally, and reluctantly, he
picked up the phone and dialed the Partridge home.
It was the boy who answered and Fellows was glad. He
didn't want to talk to the mother. The youth recognized
his voice instantly and said, "Was it my sister?"
Fellows hadn't expected it that fast. "You mean the
body of the girl in the cave?" he asked, stalling.
"Yes. Is it my sister?"
Fellows swallowed. "I'm afraid so. Your father identi-
fied her."
The boy took it with extraordinary calm, a totally dif-
ferent reaction from his father's. He said, "I see," and
then, "Where is my father?"
"Well, he's — ^I guess I'd better tell you it hit him pretty
hard."
"I know. I was sure it would. How is he?"
"He's under sedation for shock." Fellows went on be-
fore the youth could pose more questions. "How about
your mother?"
"She doesn't know yet, of course, but she's prepared."
"Do you want me to talk to her?"
"No, that's all right. I'll do it. It's better that way. You
needn't worry about us. Just my father. He doted on her."
152
 —

Fellows cleared his throat. "I know he did. I guess you

understand now that the wraps are off? I'd like to see the
kidnap note and the envelope it came in."
The boy said, "We don't have it. Chief. I'm sorry."
"What happened to it?"
father burned it. As soon as you called he burned
"My
the note and the envelope."
"Including the piece of your sister's dress?"
"Yes, sir. Everything."
"That's too bad. That's very too bad."
"I didn't want him to," Johnny blurted out. "I tried to
stop him. I told him he was crazy not to help the police."
Fellows said softly, "Don't be hard on him, Johnny. He
cared a great deal. He was trying to do what he could to
save her."
Hogarth came in with the Hendel file and Fellows opened
it."One last question, Johnny. Is there a special place
where you buy your gas?"
"Gas? You mean for the car?"
"That's right."
^*
"We have an account at Austin's filling station

"I know the place. That's what I wanted to find out.

Thanks." He hung up, stared emptily at the papers then
took the emerald ring from his pocket and set it in front
of him while he looked up and dialed another number.
The woman he got was Evelyn Knowles and he told
her he had found her missing ring. "You say," he went
on, when she was through with her expressions of delight
and thanks, "your maid's integrity is above reproach?"
"Clara? Certainly. Why? You don't really think she had
anything to do with it, do you?"
"Not if you don't. How old a girl is Clara?"
"Twenty-five."
"Do you know if she happens to go around with a lad
named James Hendel?"
"Jamie Hendel? I believe that's his name. Yes."
"He come to your house?"
"No." She hesitated. "Not that I know of, at least."
"But he could come to see her while you're out, couldn't
he?"
She said slowly, "I suppose he could. You mean an af-
fair —
in my own house?" She went on, unhappily, "I guess
it could happen."

153
 He closed off the conversation saying she could come
down for the ring in a few days but it wasn't ready for
her at the moment. He put down the phone and went out
to the mike again. "Harris. Where the hell are you?"
That got no answer and he chewed his tobacco some
more and tried again. Finally Harris came on and ap-
parently hadn't heard the call. "Headquarters," he said.
"Harris reporting."
"Yeah, Harris."
"I've been talking to the landlady at 234 Williams Street.
Hendel isn't in and she doesn't know where he went."
"When'd he go out?"
"This morning sometime, so she says."
"He take a suitcase?"
"No."
"Try Austin's filling station. He works there now and
then and he's got friends there. If they can't help you, try
Pete and Dick's. If that doesn't pan out, report back." He
pushed the mike aside. "The bastard's flown the coop,
BUI," he told Hogarth. "I want a watch set up on Mrs.
Almond's boardinghouse, front and back. I want a search
—
made of his room ^with a search warrant if necessary. I
want everybody in the neighborhood questioned. I want
his habits, where he comes from, who his friends are. I
want a hell of a lot more than we've got in this file. Send
out the alarm for him too. Contact the State Police and
the FBI. I want the railroad, bus and plane terminals
watched. Call in supernumeraries for the stakeouts and
get four men for the questioning. Call in Gorman. He'll
know how to set up. You got all that straight?"
it

Hogarth, scribbling rapidly, repeated the orders.

"That's good. If anything comes up, any problems, any
breaks, I'll be home catching a quick nap. Don't hesitate
to wake me, though, for anything that means anything at
aU."
Fellows went home but he didn't get the nap. He no
sooner lay down than the phone rang for him. It wasn't
headquarters, though, it was Wilks and on a quite dif-
ferent matter. "I'm still in Pittsfield, Fred," he said. "We.
found something up here."
"Where? At the cave?"
"Not far from the cave. That little lane the trail comes
off of goes on to an old quarry. There's a deep, water-
154
filled pit and the Pittsfield detectives have found
there
fresh tiremarks at the edge. There's a car down there at
the bottom of the pit and we feel sure it's the kidnap car.
They're bringing a crane out from town and a skin
diver. They're going to haul it up."
"What time?"
"It'll take a couple of hours to get things set up. I'm
going to stay up here and cover it."
Fellows said, "It may be Pittsfield's territory but that
girl was kidnapped from here. As soon as I get a job in
operation I'm coming up too.'*

Tuesday^ Night

Dusk was gathering when Fellows found the lane once

more but above the trees ahead lights glowed against the
evening sky. They grew brighter as he wound his way
forward and then he came into the garish glare of search-
lights. Their baleful beams were directed on a large cavity
in the ground around which a number of people were
gathered, while on the far side a giant crane was maneu-
vering into position. A
host of cars behind the crane indi-
cated a simpler access to the quarry and Fellows was the
only one who approached via the lane.
He pulled to a stop and Wilks came over as he got out.
"They're just about set," the detective sergeant said. "A
skin diver's going down and hook the cable around the
axle of the car."
"If a car's down there," Fellows said. "Has that been
checked yet?"
"They haven't looked for it yet but it's down there.
Come here and I'll show you." He led the way to a patch
of ground running directly to the pit's edge that had been
fenced off by stakes and string. "See?" Wilks said, point-
ing. "Tire marks. A
little bit here, some more here in the
dust, and over here they got a good cast. And there're
more right up at the edge and the ground's freshly broken
there. It went in all right."
"Came from this direction too, huh? Burned the girl
up in the cave and then drove on inand ditched the car."
155
 "Pushed it in. It's too dark now but you could see
where the car had been stopped just short of the rim."
They moved around the near side of the pit and Fel-
lows looked down the sheer, sharply sloping sides at the
dark water twenty feet below. A
flashbulb exploded light
in a little knot of people by the crane and the crane itself
groaned and whirred as it dipped forward and let its thick
and ugly hook descend slowly till a man at the edge waved
a stop signal.
Fellows joined the cluster of people and found Chief
Crouch, two Pittsfield detectives, a State Trooper and the
man from the FBI among those surrounding the skin
diver. The diver was hitching his oxygen tank to a more
comfortable spot on his back and nodding at a detective's
final instructions. He took his face mask from his wife
and went to the front of the crane where he called up to
the cab, "Don't pay out till I tell you." Then he pulled
the mask in place, felt the waterproof searchlight on his
belt, picked up a rope that had been knotted to the front
of the crane and plodded on his fins to the cliff's edge.
He went down the side of the crater with the help of
the rope till he was half in the water, took a look around,
unfastened the light, turned and plunged. The beam of
the light shone up from the depths and it swung and
arced and grew fainter in the murky waters as he went
deeper. The people above lined the lip of the crater and
watched.
In a minute he was up again. He swam silently to the
dangling hook and pulled. Crouch shouted, "You find it?"
and the diver called back, "It's down there."
The crane's motor stopped idling and engaged. The
cable paid out slowly and the diver swam off a little, drag-
ging it with him. He called up, "Faster!" and started down
again with his light.
About fifteen more feet of cable went out and then
stopped. It sagged loosely for a little and quivered from
invisible tugs, then hung still. The diver resurfaced and
signaled. The motor came up and the drum rewound a
turn or two till the cable was taut.
"You get it around the axle?" Crouch called. "Not the
bumper, the axle?"
"I got it." The man went down again to see that the
156
cable was holding, then reappeared and swam to the rope.
"She gripping?" Crouch called.
"She's firm." The diver hooked his Ught in his belt and
came up the rope, walking his way up the side of the pit.
Eager hands helped him over the edge and his wife
handed him a towel.
"All right, clear a space," Crouch called. "Let's have
some room."
People drifted back a little and waited. The crane's
motor strained and the cable started coming up slowly.
For a short space there was nothing but cable and then a
shape was discernible just before it broke the surface. The
back of the car came up first and then the whole thing
broke clear, cascading water in a flood. It came higher, a
rattletrap coupe with the windows up, and it rose above
the heads of the watchers, then slowly swung and came
down, still streaming, till it was suspended just over the
ground.
The crane operator handled it expertly. He let the car
inch lower till its front bumper touched, then gently laid
it rightside up. Three men leaped to the sides of the car

to guide it and suddenly one shrieked and jumped back

as if he'd touched hot metal. "Good Christ," he cried out
in horror. "There's somebody in there!"
Crouch came forward, jet-propelled. "All right! Every-
body back. Everybody stand back." He waved people well
away, then turned on his flash and peered through the
foggy window on the driver's side. "He's right," he said.
"There is a body in there. At least it looks like a body."
Fellows went over beside him and Crouch aimed the
light. "Take a look. Ain't that a body?"
Fellows tried the car door but it was locked. He
peered through the window and the beam of Crouch's
light picked out the second hideous sight he'd seen that
day. was the corpse of a blonde-haired girl but the flesh
It
was so bloated the only means of telling its sex was by
the fact it was clad in a dress and the hair was long. The
features were hardly discernible in the glob of paste that
had once been a face and it looked as if the doughlike
substance could pull off in handfuls.
"What d'ya make of it?" Crouch asked. "How d'ya fig-

ure that one?"

157
 "This can't be the car. That body's been in the water
too long."
The State Trooper and the FBI agent were around now
and the trooper did a quick check of the wheels. "These
aren't the tires that left the marks," he said.
"My God," said Crouch. "You mean two cars? Hey,
Slim. Was there two cars down there?"
The skin diver, trying to get a look at his find, said,
"Didn't see another one. Could be, though."
"Jesus," Crouch said, exploding at the thought. "There
might be a whole goddam graveyard of 'em down there.
What the hell kind of a place is this anyway?" He turned
to one of his men. "Get the coroner. Get the M.E. Get
Pascale and Martin and Zvonkovich. Tell Leary. Better
have him call the mayor."
While the orders were being given, Fellows went around
and tried the other door, but the car was shut tight. He
jotted down the license number and came back. "We'd
better try again and see what else is down there. Crouch.
What about this one? Any girl been reported missmg the
last month or two?"
"We got a couple. Not blondes, though. Ain't got any
blondes missing."
Slim said, "You want me to go down again?"
"Hell, yes," Crouch snapped. "And don't come up till
you're sure you got everything that's down there." He
called to the rest of the spectators. "Now we're gonna
leave this car right here and I don't want nobody around
it. We're going diving again."

The operation was repeated. Slim swimming down once

more to explore the bottom with his light. He stayed
under the water two minutes and finally reappeared, push-
ing back his face mask and calling, "It's over here. A
truck of some kind. Reach the cable over here."
In another five minutes they had the truck up and rest-
ing on the ground beside the car. It was a panel truck
with empty, waterlogged cartons inside and Slim unhooked
the cable while Crouch announced to all that nobody was
to touch the thing untU a check was made for finger-
prints. This time the tires matched the marks made at the
edge of the pit and that produced some satisfaction though
Crouch looked grim. Fellows made note of the truck's
plate numbers and the Pittsfield chief said, "You don't

158
have to worry about that none. We'll check with Motor
Vehicles first thing in the morning on both of 'em."
"Any stolen trucks listed in Pittsfield?"
"There's always reports of everything being stolen in
this damned city. I guess there're a couple of trucks
among 'em. We'll find that out first thing."
"Let me know everything you get."
"Yeah, but of course you gotta remember we can't be
sure this truck's got any more to do with the kidnapping
than this dead girl in the car has." He cast a look at the
gray and ominous coupe. "And I guess we're gonna have
a tough one there, too. Jesus, two dead bodies in one day.
We've had more damned murders in this town the last
two months! A shopkeeper, two of my own men, and
now these dames. One by fire, one by water. Jesus, what
the hell will the mayor and the police commissioners say?"
Fellows and Wilks didn't stay for the fingerprinting.
The chief told his detective sergeant what they'd learned
about Hendel and what was being done and both wanted
to get back. "After aU," Fellows said as they started off,
"as Crouch says, there's nothing to connect that truck
with the kidnapping except those tire marks."
"You don't really have any doubts about it, do you?"
"Not really, I guess. Funny thing. That truck looks
kind of like the one I stopped in town yesterday after-
noon for blocking traffic. Woman driver."
"Think it could be the same?"
"No. There's too many such trucks. The time was about
right, though, come to think of it. Girl with an odd name
driving it, but she was alone. At least I think she was
alone." He smiled. "I need some sleep," he said. "I'm
starting to get hallucinations."

Wednesday, May sg

Wednesday morning's papers gave big play to the finding

of the charred body of Susan Partridge. Also rating large
headlines was the hunt for James M. Hendel, sought for
questioning in the kidnap murder. And in those editions
where deadlines permitted, there were short stories about
159
the body dredged from the quarry pit and the certainty
that this too was murder and not accident. It was a big
day for crime on the front pages.
Half a dozen reporters were at headquarters when
Chief Fellows came in that morning, for though the bodies
were in Pittsfield, the one and only suspect was a Stock-
ford resident. Fellows told them what he knew on that
subject. It included the fact that the Knowles' maid ad-
mitted Handel had been to their house though she
wouldn't believe he'd stolen the ring. Asearch of his
room, however, had produced several additional pieces
of stolen jewelry.
Hendel, they had also learned, hung out at Pete and
Dick's Bar where Pete Lacoske, the owner, had seen him
a number of times in the company of Susan Partridge.
Hendel, in fact, had frequently made Susan cry.
Hendel called himself a poet but woman-hunting seemed
to be his major form of endeavor. What little money he
earned was as a gas station attendant and it was thought
he met Susan in that capacity. Since he had a solid
alibi, it was felt he had not kidnapped the girl himself but
had, instead, fingered her for those who did.
Fellows, though he did not mention it to the press, had
two reservations on the matter. One was how a petty thief
who didn't even work at thievery and who had no real
need nor apparent interest in money would get himself
involved in a hundred-thousand-dollar kidnapping. The
other was why, if he were wooing Susan to set her up for
the abduction, he would so often reduce her to tears.
Maybe, Fellows thought, he didn't understand modern-
day love-making.
If he didn't, at nine o'clock that morning he had his
chance to find out. The reporters had gone and he was
sitting in his office sweating out news over a cup of coffee
with Wilks when the squawkbox behind Sergeant Unger's
desk came to life and blurted out, "Dzanowski to head-
quarters. Hendel's just shown. He just went in the board-
inghouse."
Fellows burst out of the office and grabbed the mike.
"Don't talk. Get him! Bring him in!"
"On my way."
Fellows shook his head and went back to Wilks. "I
160
don't like the sound of that," he said. "What's he doing
walking into our arms?"
"Maybe he doesn't read the papers."
"And what's a kidnapper doing not reading the papers?
Unger, put out a call for Ed Lewis fast. We're going to
want some shorthand.'*
Lewis arrived first but Hendel was brought in right on
top of him, handcuffed and in the grip of Dzanowski and
another oflScer. They sat him down in the chief's office and
Dzanowski stayed on guard. Lewis took a chair across
from the prisoner and Wilks sat on Hendel's left. Fellows
locked the office door, then had Dzanowski remove the
handcuffs. He sat down with his back to his desk and
looked the young man over.
Up till this time Hendel had not been addressed and his
words had been limited to a string of foul oaths. Now
Fellows said, "Where've you been the last twenty-four
hours, Hendel?"
That brought a repetition of the stream of oaths and a
few remarks about what he'd do if he had the chief alone.
Fellows bore the indignities with patience but Wilks said,
"He ought to be taught some manners."
"Yeah," Fellows allowed, "except he does pretty well
without them. Giris don't seem to be very fussy these
days."
Hendel had a few more oaths to dredge up and the
chief waited quietly while he ran through the string. He
said, "Who Susan Partridge?"
killed
Hendel didn't do any double take. He merely sneered.
"Who killed Susan Partridge? That's a laugh."
"It is? You're the first one we've found who thinks so.
Who else is in it with you?"
"I thought we went through that the other night. I was
in Pete and Dick's, remember?"
"Establishing your alibi. We know that. That was when
she was kidnapped. Where were you when she was killed?"
"Who says she was killed?"
"Just us, just her father, just all the newspapers in the
country, just a charted body in a cave. You want to keep
on pretending you didn't know about it?"
Hendel appeared innocently surprised. "Yeah? That's
straight dope? She's dead?"
"As if you didn't know.'*
161
 "No crap. I didn't know." He scowled and made a few
more obscene observations about the police to overcome
the slip of having revealed an emotion, even if it was only
surprise.
"You liked the girl, didn't you?'*
He was sullen now. "I didn't even know her. I told you
that."
"A few other people have told us some other things since
we saw you and now we know better. Who killed her,
Hendel?"
"How the hell would I know?"
Fellows pocket and placed an object on the
felt in his
table in front of him. It was the emerald ring. "Maybe this
will helpyou remember."
Hendel slipped and revealed surprise again. His hand
didn't reach for the ring but his eyes did. "Where did
you get that?" he asked, recovering.
"From her body. Want to tell us about it?"
He glared up at Fellows. "Tell you what? I never saw
the ring before in my life."
Fellows sighed. He said to the others, "Well, it looks
like it's going to be a long session. I guess I'd better send
out for some more coffee."
Hendel said, "Send out for some gin. It'd suit me better
in this company."
Fellows looked him up and down with a cold contempt
that was biting. "You're quite a boy, aren't you. Your
girlfriend gets murdered and you can't think of anything
better to do than make smart-aleck remarks."
"Girlfriend? I never saw this dame you're talking about."
"That's funny, isn't it? Pete Lacoske's seen her. In fact,
he's seen you make her cry."
"Pete's a stinking liar, like you."
"And then there was that phone call you made to her
college Monday afternoon."
make no phone call."
"I didn't
"You should have done it from a pay phone. It was
foolish touse the one where you live."
"Get off my back. The operator got the number wrong.
I don't telephone dames."
By ten o'clock Hendel had admitted nothing and dis-
played his resentment at being held by bitterer, if possible,
and longer tirades against the chief. He was, however,
162
getting hoarse and he kept trying to he wouldn't
insist
utter another word. He he was
failed in this totally for
as undisciplined as his speech and Fellows had no trouble
goading him into a new outburst.
"Why did you give the girl an expensive ring like that?
It was to lead her on, wasn't it?"
"What are you trying to do, you dumb, stupid cluck,
trap me? I never saw the ring. I don't know nothing about
it."
"Where did you meet her? When you were working in
the service station —
one of those days you happened to
feel like working?"
"I never saw or heard of the dame, I tell you."
"What attracted her to you, that lousy stuff you write
which you poetry?"
call
"You wouldn't know good poetry if you what's the —
use? Lamebrains like you —
look, I'm not goima answer
any more questions."
"You couldn't have read her your junk. She'd only
laugh."
"That's what you think."
"She wouldn't come within ten feet of you if you showed
her that stuff. Those samples we found are infantile. Like
a child pretending to be an angry young man. You write
like you talk. Every other word an obscenity. Your mind's
sick."
"You should have a mind like mine, you stupid cop.
You know who gets to be cops? All the deadheads in the
universe. When you can't make an honest buck you turn
cop and live on graft and the city's charity and throw
your weight around."
"That's better than living on women's charity, like Susie
Partridge and Clara, and God knows how many others."
"I'll beat your brains out, you oaf."

"Who pays for those beers in Pete and Dick's? Susie

Partridge did, didn't she? You don't have a nickel except
what you steal."
That brought on another tirade, followed by a coughing
spell and a glass of water.
By eleven Hendel was getting sluggish and worn. His
answers were briefer and more to the point. In conserving
his energy, he had all but abandoned the epithets. "Can I
call a lawyer?"
163
 —

"Sure you can call a lawyer. Lawyers love to get called

up by clients without money. There's the phone. Help
yourself."
"Wise guy."
"How did you meet Susie Partridge?"
"I don't know her. Will you lay off?"
"Did you ever make love to her?"
"I don't know her."
"Don't you feel the least regret that she's dead?"
"Yeah. It shouldda been you."
"After all the beers she bought you and you don't care
that she's dead. You helped her get dead, didn't you?"
"No."
"Did the gasoline her body was burned with come from
that filling station you're supposed to work at?"
"I don't know. No."
"What do you mean you don't know?'*
"I said no."
"You bought it, didn't you?"
"No."
"Maybe she bought it for you. She bought you every-
thing else."
"She did not."
"She bought you beer and whatever else you drank. She
paid your way when you went places together. It was her
car you rode in. You don't have a car. It was her gasoline,
her car, her treat."
"No."
"Tell me one thing you paid for; one thing you did for
her."
"I did plen —
I tell you never met the girl."
I
"What were you going to you gave her a ring?
say, that
You gave her a stolen ring. That's pretty generous of you,
Hendel. And what was she going to give you in return?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? You aren't giving her a ring for nothing
even a stolen ring. Or was it payment for past favors?"
"Why don't you guess?"
"It wouldn't be for past favors. She wouldn't give favors
to a bum like you."
"The hell she wouldn't. I mean the hell I can't get
places with girls. I'm no fat slob like you."
"You're a thin slob. Nice girls wouldn't spit on you."
164
 "Says you. A lot you know about nice girls." ;

"More than you You've only known one.'*

do.
"How many do you have to know?"
The phone rang outside and Unger knocked on the office
door. "It's Pittsfield, Chief."
"Take a break," Fellows told his men. He unlocked the
door and went to the desk. "Yeah, Fellows," he said.
"This is Chief Crouch. Listen, that Hendel guy—"
"We've got him."
"Yeah? That's great. WeU, what I called to tell you is
we know the name of one of his ladyfriends. You know
that car and truck we dug outta the quarry? Well, the truck
is rented and it's rented to the same dame who owns the

car. She's up to her neck. That's two murders

in it

she's in, one quarry and one in the cave.'*

in the
"You know who the one in the quarry is yet?'*
"No identification so far, but we know who did it to
her.You get after Hendel about a girl named Valentine
May."
Fellows said, "Valentine May?"
"Yeah. Twenty-six Bentwood Street in Pittsfield. She
owns the car and she rented the truck. You know her?"
"Know her?" Fellows groaned. "I stopped her for hold-
ing up traffic in Stockford about twenty minutes of five
Monday afternoon. She must've had the Partridge girl in
the back of her truck right then."
"Je-sus. If you'd only looked
—
'cepting you'dda prob-
ably had your head blown off. That gang ain't playing for
kicks. Well, now look. You throw Valentine May at Hen-
del and see what you come up with. See if he knows who
the blonde in the car might be."
"Never mind that," Fellows said. "Are you in head-
quarters? You wait. I'm coming up." He slammed down
the phone and went to the office door. "Put Hendel in a
cell," he ordered Dzanowski. "Sid, grab your things. Some-
thing's happened."

Wednesday Noon
Chief Crouch of Pittsfield had an office of pastel green
and a beautiful steel desk which had been confiscated in
165
 "

a raid. Compared to Fellows' cramped office with its

cluttered rolltop desk, Crouch lived in luxury.

The in shirtsleeves, was talking to the
Pittsfield chief,
mayor doorway when Fellows and Wilks checked in
in the
at the main desk, and the pair shifted their feet and made
conversation with the lieutenant in charge until the mayor
departed with a grim, solemn face.
"Jesus," Crouch said, waving them into the office. "On
my neck, on my neck. Three of the police commissioners
have been on the phone, the chairman's spent half a morn-
ing here and now the mayor wants me to pull rabbits out
of a hat. And what the hell do you want up here, any-
how? You got Hendel down there."
"I want to know what you've found out about Valentine
May."
"What we've found out? I don't get you. We sent a
detective over to the address but the neighbors there say
she ain't been around for a couple of months and the
girl she used to live with is working."
"So the detective goes to where she's working
'* —
"That's what he's doing, for Christ's sake. You think
we're sloppy or something? So it takes a little time, don't
it? But what the hell's bugging you on this May dame?

She's in for two murders. You wantta know anything

more, why ain't you asking Hendel insteadda coming up
here?"
"If Hendel knows anything, which I doubt, he's not
talkative. I came up here because I think this is where the
answers are."
"Answers to what?"
"The girl I stopped was a light bmnette
—
"I know. We got a description of her from the HeUman
Rent-a-Car people. Skinny brunette."
"But how do her neighbors describe her?"
Crouch frowned. "I don't know. What're you driving
at?"
"Would a girl renting a truck for a kidnapping use her
own name? Would a girl use her own car to drown another
girl in a quarry?"
The Pittsfield chief came up straight. "Say, wait a min-
ute.That don't make sense."
'The dead girl in Valentine May's car is a blonde. Isn't
that going to make Valentine a blonde? Whose car would
166
you leave a victim in, his or yours? Whose license would
you use on a kidnap job, his or yours?"
"Je-sus. It's the May girl in the quarry? Then who the
hell is this brunette Borgia?"
"Have you checked all the known criminals in this
town?"
"WeU, not yet."
"It might be a good idea, Chief. Anybody who'd do this
is likely to have a record. You might have her in your
files."
"Yeah. You got something there." Crouch pressed a
buzzer and said to the shirt-sleeved officer with the bland
face who came in, "Get me a list of all female criminals
we got anything on in this town." The cherubic officer
half bowed with a "Yes, sir," and hurried out.
Abig plainclothesman with a broad Irish face caught
the door before it closed. "She's a cute Httle blonde,
Chief," he said. "Comes up to about here on me.'*
Crouch, getting into his seat behind the desk, said,
"Who is?"
"Valentine May."
me like it wouldda five minutes ago.
"That don't surprise
This Detective Lieutenant Kelly," he said and made
is

introductions. "So she's a blonde, huh? That's what Fellows

just got through thinking. Let's hear the rest of it."
Kelly took out his notebook. "Subject lived with a
Bemice Teague at twenty-six Bentwood Street till early
April according to neighbors. I went to the cafeteria
where this Teague girl works and got the rest from her.
Here's the story as she give it to me. Valentine come from
Albany originally, but Bemice don't know where. She got
a job in the same cafeteria when she come to town and
bunked in at the YWCA. So she and Bemice got chummy
and Bemice didn't like living at home so they paired up
and rented a cheap flat together. Twenty-six Bentwood is
the one.
"Well, they took to going to this nearby cocktail lounge
just to get outta the house —
at least that's the way she tells
it. More likely it's to pick up men. Anyhow, that's the
way Valentine worked it and she did O.K. there. She had
a way with men."
Crouch doodled on a pad and Kelly flipped another
page. "Then there was this one night. April ninth, she
167
said it was. —
Two guys and a dame come in ^yoimg guys
— and one of them, guy named Tony, started making a
play for Valentine. She ended up going off with them and
didn't come home. When Bernice saw her to work the
next day, Valentine said she was moving outta the flat
and for Bernice to get herself another roonmiate.
it was a big love affair. Valentine kept
"Bernice figures
working and didn't say nothing but she looked real happy
about things. Then, all of a sudden, she didn't show up
to work no more. One day she was there and the next
day she wasn't."
"What was the date?" Crouch asked without looking up.
"Friday, April twenty-sixth. She didn't come in the
following Monday."
"Same day Miller and Jackson got it in that liquor
store holdup," Crouch said idly.
"Yeah. So it was. Anyway, Bernice ain't never seen
her since. She didn't even say good-by."
"Didn't her boss try to find out what happened to her?"
"He did, but nobody knew where she lived no more.
He got along without her for a week and then decided
she'd quit on him and hired another girl."
"Never thought of mentioning it to the police?" Fellows
put in.
"I asked him that but she'd collected her pay that last
day and girls have quit on him without notice before. The
idea of calling the police never entered his mind."
"What about the men and the dame she ran off with?"
Crouch said, looking up. "What're they like?"
"Well," Kelly said, flipping another page, "she doesn't
recall very well. The girl was plam. Brown hair, not very
attractive. Dark, leathery skin and no make-up —
not
even lipstick. Height about five five or six. She don't
make a guess about her weight except she was skinny."
Crouch looked around. "Fit your girl, Fellows?"
"As far as it goes it does. I don't think there's any
doubt about it."
"What about the men, Al?"
"The men." Kelly checked his notes and paused to de-
cipher his writing. "The one called Tony was the older of
the two, a httle taller, black hair, not bad-looking, sui'C
of himself."
168
 "Sure of himself? What the hell kind of a description
is that?"
"That's what the girl said. Chief. Sure of himself. The
other was a little shorter, a little softer. He had dark curly
hair and, she says, was real cute. She guesses he couldn't
have been more than twenty-two and looked kind of shy."
Crouch stopped doodling and stared at his decorated
pad. Slowly he laid the pencil down and sat back. "Jesus,"
he said. "What do you wantta bet it's Tony DeGennaro
and Allie Wells?"
Kelly said, "You mean it?"
"The description The name fits."
fits.

**Those descriptions would fit a million guys."

Fellows said, "Who are Tony DeGennaro and Allie
Wells?"
Crouch tilted his chair back. "There's a real story
there," he said. "Started last April. April ninth it was.
Say, Kelly, didn't you say that's the night Valentine got
picked up? What about that, now?" He nodded at the idea
and turned to Fellows again. "Anyway, there was this
grocery store burglary out Purvey Street. The owner
caught them in the act and got beat up and died. Well, we
fingerprinted the place and find out prints on the cashbox
fit Allie Wells, an escaped con from Indiana. On a prize

bar out back we find more of his prints and prints of

Tony DeGennaro who escaped with him.
"Well, so now we know who they are but not where
they are. We hold back the information, of course, but
we're watching for 'em. Then suddenly there's a rash of
liquor store holdups and the guy in each case fits De-
Gennaro's description. We start laying for 'em and catch
'em on April twenty-sixth. The robber, who fits Allie this
time, kills Jackson and Miller and gets away.
"We up the city trying to find 'em after that. We
tear
pull in everybody with a record but we get nothing. So
after that it's dead quiet and all we can figure is they
vamoosed outta town. Right up till this minute, at least,
that's what we figured they did. Now it looks different.
Way different!"
Fellows agreed. "So now it's a question of who's their
accomplice. Who's the girl with Valentine's driver's li-
cense?"
"Now I know she's gonna have a record," Crouch said
169
 and pressed his buzzer. "Mac," he snapped when the bland
police officer entered. "What's keeping you on those files?"
"Right here, Chief." He
brought them to Crouch's desk.
"I didn't want to interrupt you." He bowed his way out
again.
The sheafs formed a pile over eight inches high and
Crouch looked at them with distaste. "Damned lot of bad
girls in this town." He lifted the
top one. "Allen. Soliciting.
Let's see. Forty-one —
guess that's not it."
I
"I don't think soUciting would be what she served time
for —
not that alone," Fellows said. "She's got too many
murders to explain."
"Yeah. Let's see. Another Allen . .
."

The way Crouch was going at it, it would take all day.
Fellows got up. "You got pictures with those reports?"
"Pictures, dental records, fingerprints. Some pics ain't
too recent, though. Some of these cases are years old."
"Why don't I take a look at them?"
"Help yourself." Crouch willingly pushed the pile in
Fellows' direction and got up. "You can have the place. I
some lunch."
gotta get
Fellows started through rapidly, scanning the pictures,
pausing now and then, shaking his head and going on.
Most of the reports had recent photos attached but many
did not and as he drew nearer the bottom, Wilks said,
"Maybe the girl's too different to recognize."
The worse the rec-
"If so, we'll go through for crimes.
ord the more likely the suspect."
"Or, of course, she might not be in the file."
"You're cheerful this afternoon."
"If DeGennaro and Wells are from out of town, maybe
she is too."
Fellows got down to the very bottom and then, at the
last one, stopped and studied. "Damn it. Police photo-
graphs are God-awful. Like passport photos."
Wilks bent over. "Look like her?"
"It does, but I can't be sure."
"What's the report?"
Fellows read from the sheet. " 'Lorraine Zeuss: Bom
September 23, 1934.' That's about right. 'Height: 5'6Vi".
Weight: 113. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Green. Address: 20
Melville Street.'—"
170
 Crouch came back munching a sandwich. "You got
something?"
Fellows showed him the report. "What do you know
about this girl?"
Crouch sat down behind his desk and looked at it.
"Nothing. Don't know her." He studied the list of offenses.
"She sure sounds good, though. Robbery. Accomplice in
robbery. Worked with her brother Charles Zeuss out in the
Midwest in holdups. Manslaughter. Out on parole. Has to
report weekly to parole officer."
"Midwest with her brother?" Fellows said. "Anywhere
around Indiana?"
"Let's see. Yeah. And that's where those escaped cons
came from. I'll bet that's where they've been holing up."
He pulled over a phone. "She works at the Wiley Laundro-
mat. Let's check on her."
"What about her parole officer?"
*'Johnson? I can call him but if she failed to report
he'd've called me." He looked up the laundromat number,
called, asked brief questions, and hung up. "She left work
Monday noon," he said. "Told them she was sick. Hasn't
been back since. In a pig's eye she's sick!" He referred to
the report again and dialed another number. He listened
a minute and put down the receiver. "Her home don't
answer."
Fellows and Wilks looked at each other and back at the
chief. "Let's go," Fellows said.
"If you want to go, we'd better go with a search war-
rant."
"By all means with a search warrant, and with every-
thing else you've got too. Because she and those cons don't
answer the phone doesn't mean they're not there."

Wednesday^ Early Afternoon

Crouch and the Pittsfield police didn't sitaround while

the search warrant was being obtained. The orders went
out and within ten minutes the first squad cars began
collecting in the Melville Street area. People on Purvey
Street paused and wondered as more and more appeared,
171
speeding up the streets, stopping for brief words one
with another, going by in all directions.
Uniforms were plentiful too. Suddenly knots of officers
and men appeared on street corners and the lesidents
questioned each other. Rumors were that it was a vice raid
but the activity didn't fit that kind of effort.
When Melville Street was blocked off to traffic and
pedestrians were turned away, the focal point was lo-
cated. But Melville was a quiet street and what had been
going on there was anybody's guess. Few, if any, con-
nected this feverish behavior with the body they'd read
—
about the girl who'd been kidnapped two days before.
At ten after two a cruiser turned down Melville Street
and this was the important one. Chief Crouch was inside,
along with Fellows, Wilks and two detectives. Crouch
didn't want Fellows along because there might be danger
and the Stockford chief wasn't a member of the Pittsfield
department, but Fellows was adamant. The kidnap victim
was from his bailiwick and it was he who'd identified
Lorraine Zeuss as a party to the crime. It was as much
his case as anyone's.
The car rolled to a stop in front of number twenty and
by that time the house was surrounded. Back and front
were covered and no one could get in or out. Police had
it under surveillance from all vantage points with quick

cover available in case of shooting.

The five men in the special car got out quickly and
mounted the porch. Top floor was the flat in question
and they rang the bells of the two lower floors to empty
the house before trouble developed.
The ringing brought forth only one person, the old,
sharp-faced widow on the second floor, Mrs. Murray, and
a detective led her, protesting, down the stairs. "Ain't no-
body here 'cept me," she complained. "What do you want?
What's all this fuss?"
"Who's supposed to live here besides you?" Crouch
asked.
"Ain't been nobody on the first floor for six months.
Woman named Zeuss lives up top but she ain't around."
"You sure of that?"
"I oughtta be. I have to listen to her and all her
friends tramping the stairs all the time. I oughtta know
when they ain't here."
172
 "Go up and see what you find," Crouch told the de-
tectives, "but don't take nothing for granted. Mind your-
selves." He ferried the woman, with Fellows and Wilks, to
a point of safety across the street and said, "Tell us about
Miss Zeuss and her friends."
Mrs, Murray was a fund of information. Living on a
pension and seldom going out, she had nothing to do but
pay attention to what went on upstairs and she related it
in surprising detail. Two men, whose descriptions fitted
Tony DeGennaro and Allie Wells, rang her doorbell
first

early in April looking for the Zeuss woman, and they

moved in with her that very night. Shortly thereafter, a
blonde appeared and made it a foursome. "The blonde
had a car," she said, "and she used to take the Zeuss
woman to work and back. The men, they hung around the
house most of the time. Didn't seem they had jobs.
"Then," she went on, "all of them moved out and I
thought, 'good riddance'. Only they weren't gone for good.
Sometimes the men would come back there in the after-
noon and then the women would pick them up after work."
Mrs. Murray held her head high, sniffing with disdain.
"Next I know, one of them men comes tramping up the
stairs one day all by hisself. Then I hear one of the
women and they're both up there. Then the man, and I
don't know which one he was, comes down the stairs and
next the Zeuss woman comes up. Pretty soon she and the
blonde go off in the jalopy and that's the last I seen of
the blonde. The Zeuss woman comes back the next day
and she's living alone again and I figure they're all gone
except a few days later, back come those two men again."
"When was this, Mrs. Murray?"
"About a month ago. Don't know dates, but that was
about it."
"Then what?"
"Then next I know the Zeuss woman has a car." She
pointed at a cheap secondhand sedan parked farther down
the street. "That's the one, right there, only she didn't use
it for work. She and the men used it to go riding in."

Crouch nodded to one of his men. "Check on it. Find

out about the registration." He turned back to Mrs.
Murray. "What else?"
"So then, last Saturday, the Zeuss woman has a truck
and she parks that out front. So, middle of the afternoon
173
on Monday, off she and the men go in the truck and that's
all I know. 1 ain't seen hide nor hair of any of 'em
since."
"Describe the truck."
"Ordinary truck, like a delivery truck, only it was blue

and there was no names on it."

A front window on the third floor across the street was
raised and one of the detectives leaned out. "Nobody's
here, Chief," he hollered to Crouch. "The place is empty."
Fellows, Wilks and Crouch went up there. The birds
had flown but the flight had been sudden. Clothes were
hanging in the closets and food was in the icebox. "A real
hurry," one of the detectives said, coming out of the bath-
room. "They didn't even take their toothbrushes and shav-
ing stuff."
Fellows said, "Looks more to me like something hap-
pened to make them afraid to come back. Lorraine's car
across the street; everything left in here."
"Don't matter what it is," Crouch complained. "Now
where the hell do we look?"
"Maybe they have a hide-out."
"What would they need a hide-out for? They burn the
girl and ditch the truck. They can figure they're in the
clear. They wouldda been if those kids hadn't stumbled
on the body. And that body wasn't found till Tuesday.
There wasn't nothing to frighten them away on Monday.
No, sir. This was part of the plan."
"But after they ditch the truck, what do they do for
transportation?" Fellows asked.
"There's a bus line not far from that quarry."
"But why would they take a bus when Lorraine's got a
car sitting in front of the house? That doesn't make sense."
"Crooks don't never make sense."
"Something must have gone wrong," Fellows said, strok-
ing his chin. "Maybe they didn't really intend killing the
girl."
"Maybe they just happened to have all that gasoline
with them that they doused her with. They meant to kill
her all right. And they meant to burn up her body!"
Fellows took a turn around the room scowling. "Maybe
it's the way she died or when she died. Maybe she did

something first, got word out or something, but in some

way upset their plans."
174
 "Well if you ain't gonna know it till you catch
she did
them three and we ain't gonna do that sitting around
here."
"There might be a clue if we knew how she died."
Crouch shook his head. understand you.
"I don't
Fellows. The main thing is to get the alarm out for these
birds now that we know who they are. If you wantta
find out how the Partridge girl was murdered, you go call
up Fink at the hospital. He should be doing the autopsy
right now. Meanwhile I'm gonna get the alarm out and
clear this area."
Fellows watched the chief depart and smiled dryly at
Wilks. "I don't know what I'm after, Sid, because I
can't make head nor tail out of all this, but I guess I kind
of would like to know how she was killed."
"Go ahead," Wilks said. "I don't know how it'll help but
it can't hurt."
It took a good ten minutes to get Dr. Fink to the phone
but Fellows hung on doggedly while the man was paged
and sought. Finally the doctor came on with a sharp,
"Yes, what do you want?"
Fellows introduced himself and Fink said, "I know.
They told me who it was."
"About the body," the chief went on. "Have you found
cause of death?"
"Which body? The one in the cave or the one in the
quarry pit?"
"Both, as a matter of fact. And do you have an identi-
fication for the one in the quarry?"
"I've got her teeth but you've got to show me a set
that'll match before I can tell you anything about her. The
same for the body in the cave."
"Haven't they given you the Partridge girl's dental record
yet?"
"They sure as hell have and that's what I'm complain-
ing about. The girl in the cave is not Susan Partridge."

Wednesday Afternoon
Fellows, usually taciturn, for once exploded. "What?" he
exclaimed. "Say that again."
175
 "

"The body," Fink repeated, "is not that of Susan Par-

tridge. I have her dental record right here in front of me
and the teeth of the body are totally different. Not the
slightest resemblance. Who this woman is I have no idea
but I do know who she isn't!"
Fellows grinned. He was almost gay. "I think I can tell
you that one, Doc," he said. "Could you get a record of
the dead girl's teeth over to police headquarters right away
so we can check?"
He hung up as Crouch came back up the stairs, his face
bearing its usual gloom. "Got a report," Crouch said.
"Zeuss's car is registered to Valentine May."
"I've got a report too," Fellows said. "Brace yourself.
You too, Sid." Then he told them about the girl.
"Je-sus," Crouch said and sat down.
Wilks grinned as merrily as Fellows. "Sounds like a
falling out among thieves."
"Reminds me of a story," Fellows said. "It's about this
guy who had a friend who ran a gambling casino and he'd
go in and gamble a little here and there and because they
were friends, this guy was allowed to win. So one day the
guy happened to hit it big at the racetrack. He came home
with over five grand in his kicker and he decided he'd
go to his friend's casino and make himself a real killing.
He went, but what happened was he lost the five thousand.
So he went storming up to his friend's office wanting to
know why it was he was allowed to win little bits here
and there but when he had a big bankroll he lost it all.
And the gambling casino owner said to him, 'Don't you
think you were taking a little too much for granted?'
Wilks laughed but Crouch said dazedly, "Huh?"
"We show Partridge a body," Fellows said. "He expects
it be his daughter. It has the ring she was wearing and,
to
for him, that's the clincher. He identifies it as his daughter.
If we hadn't taken it for granted it was his daughter our-
selves, we might have wondered how he could be so
positive when there was so little of it left."
"So what's that mean? It means she's alive —or just
possibly she's alive."
Fellows took a turn around the room. "If it's not taking
too much for granted again, if we assume that body is
Lorraine Zeuss, that's the thing I was looking for that
—
upset their plans. Now if maybe it's a big if but // —
176
Susan Partridge is alive, Tony DeGennaro and Allie Wells
have her with them. If so, they aren't taking any buses
anyplace."
"I don't get that," Crouch complained. "Who said they
would?"
"Here's the thing. Chief. There're only three people in
on the kidnapping, or so it looks, right? Tony and Allie
and Lorraine. I think we can forget about Hendel. Now,
for some reason, Tony and Allie decide to deal Lorraine
out. They leave her in the cave and dump the truck in the
quarry. They weren't supposed to do that originally, that's
pretty obvious. But that's what they do. And when they
dump their truck, there goes their transportation. Now
there weren't any clues in that truck —
not that I've heard
about, anyway, so why would they jettison it so cava-
lieriy?"
"They might get picked up driving it.'*
"Small risk compared to being on foot with a hostage at
a deserted quarry a good five miles from home here. I
don't think they'd have done that unless they had another
place to go— very close by."
"What're you proposing. Fellows, a search of the
woods, the caves, the barns out there?"
"Where did the four of them go when Mrs. Murray says
they vanished from here for two or three weeks? I'm
betting they've got a house out near the quarry and I'll
bet it's rented in the name of Valentine May."
Crouch came to his feet. "Damned if I don't think
you're right." He grabbed the phone and dialed hastily.
"Bill," he said. "Check every god-damned real estate agent
in this city and find out if any of them rented a house to
a Valentine May a month or two months ago. If you get a
break on that, find out where the house is at and how
we can get into it. You find an agent who rented such a
house and you get him down here to headquarters right
away. Break it down and get everybody on it. I want an
answer by the time I get back and I'm leaving right nowl"

177
 Wednesday^ Late Afternoon

There was nothing yet on the real estate project when the
two chiefs and Wilks got back to PoHce Head-
Pittsfield
quarters but the dental record of the charred body was
waiting and it was quickly ascertained that Lorraine Zeuss
and not Susan Partridge had been burned in the cave.
"That's one for you, Fellows," Chief Crouch said.
The real estate break came immediately thereafter, even
before the Zeuss folder was returned to the files. The
intercom on Crouch's desk buzzed and Assistant Chief
Buzzard said, "Clore Real Estate rented a furnished house
on Montrose Road to Valentine May on April thirteenth.
He's on his way over."
"Whereabouts is Montrose Road, for Jesus' sake?"
"South of here near the city line, according to Clore. I'll
check the city map for you."
"How near is it to the quarry?"
There was half a minute of silence and then the inter-
com came to life. "Clore says it's the first house in and
that's damned close. Half a mile at the most."
Crouch looked up. "That's two for you. You're a real
good guesser. Fellows." He depressed the button again
and said, "Send a man to the Hall of Records for a map
of the property and put out a call for the riot squad. I'm
holding a briefing at four o'clock."
The briefing took place in the assembly room and thirty-
five well-trained, capable and hard men were in attend-
ance. Also present, besides Crouch, Fellows and Wilks,
were Captains Silver and McDonnell, two lieutenants,
three sergeants, the chairman of the Police Commission,
and the mayor himself.
The map of the rented property was pinned to the black-
board and the real estate agent was on call in an adjacent
room. Crouch outlined the situation quickly and with com-
petence. "The house faces roughly south," he said, using
a pointer on the property map. "There's about fifty feet
of clearing on the east and west sides, maybe a hundred
feet in the rear and twenty-five feet to the road. It stands
178
a quarter of a mile from route seven and that whole stretch
is rolling fields and meadows. There're woods in back
and to the west and across the street. The ground slopes
uphill in the rear.
and me'U handle the approach from route seven.
"Silver
Captain McDonnell will lead the approach from the west
where Montrose Road comes from Naugatuck Avenue.
Mac, you'll send eight men under Lieutenant Hancock
through the woods on the west side to approach as close
as possible under cover. Lieutenant Wertz and eight more
men will go up in back and come down on the house
from the rear. Lieutenant Hildeth is first in on my side.
He's going up in the woods with a walkie-talkie and
binoculars and act as spotter. Sergeant Stillson leads eight
men over the meadows. This is gonna be belly work,
boys, 'cause the object is to work in as close as possible
without being seen. You gotta keep low in that grass. The
leaders will have walkie-talkies so we can have co-ordina-
tion. The rest of you will be issued riot guns, rifles, gas
masks, small arms and knives."
He read out the assignments of who worked with whom
and with what and then went into the major problem they
faced. "Susan Partridge, so far as we know, is not dead but
alive. We
have reason to believe she's a prisoner in that
house and is held there by two men. Those two men are

Tony DeGennaro and Allie Wells and I don't have to tell

you who they are! Wells is the man who killed Art Jackson
and Connie Miller.
"As for arms, the gun Jackson and Miller were killed
with was the gun taken from the storekeeper them cons
beat to death. So far as we know, that's the only gun
they've got, but they may have more by now. They may
have a rifle so don't go exposing yourself. I don't want
those bastards killing any more of our men.
"Now, they got us at a disadvantage if it's what we think

and they've got the Partridge giri hostage there. Lessen

we know better, we got to play it that way and that means
no shooting. We can't take chances of killing her. What's
more, don't want Wells and DeGennaro killing her
we
either.Judging by the way they've been murdering around
here, they won't hesitate if they think it'll get 'em any-
thing. The trick is to persuade 'em to give up without
harming the girl. That's my department and that's why
179
nobody is to fire a shot or make a move without orders.
If they open up on you from the house you just gotta
grit your teeth and take it. If anything happens to that
girl, it's my neck, and I can tell you if it's my neck, it's

gonna be your neck. I don't want no heroes and I don't

want no killing if it can be helped. Understood?"
There were questions and clarifications and the briefing
was over by half past four. The men were issued weapons
as they filed out and they were directed to the rear of the
building where the squad cars waited.
As the cars filled, one after the other, they rolled out
the drive with low moans of their sirens and started off
in caravan fashion, then split east and west for the trip
south and their move against Montrose Road.
Hildeth, the spotter, rode with Crouch, Fellows and
Wilks in the lead car of the east group and he was let
off at the junction of Montrose and route seven where the
first roadblock was to be set up. The fields were green but

the grass was not high and cover was scarce, consisting
of uneven ground, rocky ledges, and occasional bushes
or trees. The house was not visible above the rough New
England terrain and Hildeth set out across the fields with-
out fear of discovery towards the hilly woods and shelter.
Crouch told the driver to go ahead and the car crawled
forward until, rounding a curve, the whole upper floor
of the house burst into view. Crouch swore and said,
"Back up. Get back. Je-sus!"
The driver threw her into reverse and nearly rammed
the car behind before the convoy halted and the lead cars
retreated. There were four cars in the group and they
parked tight together just out of sight of the house some
hundred feet back. Crouch got on the mike and checked
with McDonnell and the west group. They were on Mon-
trose Road approaching their stations.
In the cars behind Crouch, Captain Silver and his men
got out. One of them climbed the six-foot embankment,
keeping low, and took a look around, then slid back. "It's
not good. Captain. The second floor of that house com-
mands the whole field. There's a stone wall along the
boundary but I don't know if we can get to it."
"There's no cover at all?"
"Nothing but one tree. The grass is only a foot high
and it might hide you from the bottom floor but you're a
180
sitting duck from the second. If they've got a rifle, it'd
be shooting fish in a barrel."
Silver relayed this to Crouch and then climbed the bank
for a look of his own. "It's not too bad," he said, coming
down. "The men can keep low along the road to the
stone wall. They wouldn't be in the open for more than
twenty-five feet and once they're behind the wall, they're
set."
The walkie-talkie came to life. "Hildeth reporting. I
have the house in sight. No sign of life."
Crouch picked up the instrument and spoke into it.

"Wash on the line? Car in the yard?"

"Negative."
"Look like a false alarm?"
"So far affirmative."
McDonnell came in on the car radio. "Crouch from
McDonnell. I heard that. We're stationed and men are
deploying."
"Don't get careless just because there's no wash on the
line. They didn't take no clothes with 'em."
"We'll be careful."
Crouch discussed the problem of getting to the stone
wall with Silver and climbed the bank to check it himself.
"We'll do it your way," he said. "If there's no more than
two guys in there they can't keep a good watch. We may
get stationed without being seen. That's what we gotta try."
"Eight men along that wall?"
"Right, and ready with the teargas."
Silver sent the men down the road with the order.
Crouch paced beside his car and waited for reports.
Sergeant Stillson called in first. "Eight men behind the
wall. Still no sign from the house."
Two minutes later. Lieutenant Hancock called in. "My
men are at the edge of the woods on the west and ready.
We can't go closer." Then Lieutenant Wertz reported
that theback was covered.
Crouch picked up his instrument. "All right, we're
ready. Anybody see anything?"
The were negative and Crouch shook his head.
replies
"Sounds But I guess we'd better
like a false alarm, Fellows.
find out." He climbed back into the car. "Move up," he
told the driver, "till you get the house in sight."
The car went ahead again and Fellows, Wilks, Silver
181
and four burly plainclothesmen walked up the road after
it. Crouch got out as the others joined him and all stood

in the protection of the car looking over at the house.

was a two-story frame dwelling, larger than two cou-
It
ples would seem to need, but running down through
lack of repairs and paint. It was enough of a white elephant
to keep the rent low and it stood alone, separated from the
woods and fields by a poorly kept lawn and yard. A small,
dilapidated barn, which could serve as a garage, stood
empty at the back.
Crouch studied the place, taking in the unrailed porch
with the overhang roof, and said, "The porch is good pro-
tection. We can duck up there and use Clore's key to get
in. If they're in there we might catch 'em cold." He
loosened the gun in his holster and said to the four
men, "Set?"
Fellows said, "You aren't going in there with them?"
"Sure I am. What the hell else do you think I'm gonna
do?"
"You're the chief. You're needed to manage. You
haven't had this training."
Crouch said, "Sure I'm chief, but I ain't much on man-
agement. I ain't nothing the force would miss. I ain't
smart and I ain't really important. About all I'm good for
is setting an example for my men. I never did hanker to

send someone else on a job I wouldn't do myself."

Fellows made a face and Crouch said, "So what the
hell's bothering you, Fellows? It's ten to one the place is
empty."
He started off at the head of his party and Fellows and
Wilks followed into full view from the house. Crouch
turned and stopped them. "You ain't in this precinct,
Fellows. In Pittsfield you're just a civilian and I ain't
sticking my neck out for you. You don't come no farther."
"The girl's in my precinct. Crouch."
"No farther, Fellows. That's an order."
Fellows took out his gun and hefted it. "All right.
Crouch, but we're going to cover for you."
Crouch shrugged. "O.K., if you feel that strong
about it. But no shooting us, remember. We're on your
side."
"I'll try to miss."
Crouch took one more look at the somber house with
182
its blank windows and semblance of desertion. "O.K.,
let's spread. No point making it easy for 'em." He started
slowly forward over the barren lawn.
The four men with him fanned out and took up sep-
arate courses towards the porch. Their movements were
methodical and cautious, their eyes hard-fixed on door
and windows, hunting for signs of life. From behind
brush, trees and wall other policemen watched, guns out,
their eyes darting from house to men as they advanced.
Still nothing happened and finally, after an eternity, the
chief reached the porch. The others followed quickly
and all flattened themselves against the face of the house
beside doors and windows. There was still nothing and the
only sound was the clattering of footsteps on the wooden
flooring. Wilks, standing near the squad car with Fellows,
said bitterly, "There's nobody there. God knows where
they went."
Crouch, checking the other men quickly, gingerly
reached around and fitted his key in the lock, keeping
well to the side of the glass-paned front door. He turned
the knob and pushed the panel open.
The door swung inward and Crouch turned to peek
as
there shot. It was so sudden
was the explosive sound of a
and so unexpected that both Fellows and Wilks looked first
at the men on the porch to see who had pulled the
trigger.
Then they saw Crouch, back flat against the clapboards
between door and window, his mouth open, his legs sag-
ging, and one of the men trying to hold him. The door
kicked shut with a crash and there was silence.
"How's Crouch?" Fellows called. He could see no blood
but the Pittsfield chief looked in trouble.
"Just grazed," a man hollered back. "They're in there!"
The men on the porch were between windows where
they couldn't be hit but they were pinned. Any attempt to
withdraw would leave them sitting ducks for the persons
inside. One called, "How about teargas, Silver? That'll
smoke them out."
Fellows turned towards Silver, back by the squad
car. "Wait. Let's talk to them."
He didn't see the figure appear in the upstairs front
window with a gun. His attention was on Silver and as he
took a step a second explosion sounded and a bullet
183
whined an inch from his ear and ricocheted off the road.
He and Wilks both dove for the protection of the squad
car and Fellows said wryly, "That was pretty stupid." He
peeked through the car windows at the house and saw
the bullet hole in the second-floor window but the sniper
wasn't in sight. "You want to talk to them?" Silver said.
"I'll turn the mike on the P.A."

"Right." Fellows took the mike and, watching the win-

dows, said, "Hear this, Allie Wells. Hear this, Tony De-
Gennaro." The volume was up and his voice, through the
speaker on top, resounded through the neighborhood.
"You are surrounded. You can't get away. Come on out
with your hands up and you won't get hurt. We'll give you
two minutes to come out with your hands up."
He lowered the mike and studied the house carefully
for a sign. It wasn't long in coming. A twisting figure sud-
denly appeared at an upstairs side window and Fellows, in
alarm, called into the mike, "Hold your fire. It's the girl!'*
The girl was blonde and even from that distance there
was no mistaking that she was the supposedly dead Susan
Partridge. She was pushed and shoved to the window by
an unidentifiable figure behind who pinioned her with
one arm and threw up the window with the other. "Here
she is," shrieked a voice that was almost hysterical. "Take
a good look, all of you frigging bastards out there. You
got five minutes to get outta here, all of you, or she gets
it! Understand?"

Fellows spoke harshly into the mike, answering quickly.

"It's no good, Tony," he snapped, guessing Tony to be
the leader. "You're surrounded. You're only going to
make it harder on yourself. Surrender and you won't get
hurt."
"Pretty smart, ain't you, copper?" Tony yelled back.
"So you know who we are? So you know we mean busi-
ness. Now you're gonna surrender or she'll get hurt. You
got that? You want her blood on your hands? You're
gonna get it if you don't clear outta here, all of you. You
got five minutes, starting now." He dragged the girl
away from the open window.
Captain Silver spit in the road. "Those bastards have
got us, son of a bitch!"
"And they've got Crouch and four men pinned on the
porch."
184
 "We gotta make a deal."
Fellows moved to where he could see the porch. Crouch
was still there and seemed all right. One of the men was
with him but the other three were gone. Fellows quickly
spotted one of them. He was crawling on hands and
knees around the side of the house towards the rear, out
of sight from those inside. The other two had doubtless
taken the opposite route.
Silver joined Fellows and hollered at the Pittsfield
chief. "You hear what Tony said?"
Crouch nodded and gestured to indicate the creeping
men.
"We gotta get out of here," Silver called. "We'll call
an armistice and get you off the porch."
Crouch shook his head vigorously and Silver mut-
tered, "What the hell?"
Fellows grabbed his arm and said, "Keep under cover,
plugged."
Silver. You'll get
Silver backed up and said, "What's Crouch want? We
can't rush the place. They'll kill the girl."
"He's probably gambling on breaking in fast enough to
stop them."
"I wouldn't want that responsibility! We oughtta call
everybody off like they say. We've only got three min-
utes."
Wilks said, "I don't guess they'd kill her. She's their
only shield."
"We can't take the chance. Ain't that right, Fellows?'*
The chief said, "Damned
if I know. They'll keep her
alive for bargainingpurposes, but suppose we did go
away. What good does that do? The chances are they'll
never turn her loose alive and as long as they keep her
v/e're helpless whether we let them leave here or not."
"Yeah? Well Crouch and those guys ain't got a chance
getting to 'em before they do something. They're all up-
stairs there. The second they hear someone coming in
below they know their number's up and that's curtains for
the girl."
Silver was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a
figure at the upstairs window again. This time Tony bold-
ly stood in it alone. His voice was shrill and wild. "All
right!" he shouted. "Your time's up, you bastards!" His
voice erupted in a wild stream of oaths.
185
 man behind the stone wall sight-
Fellows didn't see the
ing along a and neither did Tony. A shot cracked out
rifle

and Tony jumped. He staggered and clutched his left

arm, then backed off screaming threats. Silver, at the po-
lice car, swore and Fellows grabbed the loudspeaker
mike. "Teargas! Teargas!"
A
bomb sailed and struck the side of the house close by
the window. The gas sprayed out in white, feathery
streamers, showering harmlessly down on the yard.
Another bomb soared and again missed the open
window. Inside the house there was shouting and Tony
shrieked vengeance hysterically. There was a scream of
terror from the girl.
On the porch. Crouch fumbled desperately with the
key trying to get the front door open. Fellows and Wilks,
pulling their guns free, streaked across the open yard.
Before they had covered half the distance there was
the muffled blast of a revolver inside followed by one
more choked scream from the girl.
A bomb smashed window of the house and
the upper
its white plumes sprayed inside but silence had already
fallen. .

Wednesday, Early Evening

Crouch only just got the door open when it was torn from
his grasp from within and thrown wide. Fellows and
Wilks, a step from the porch, slued to a halt, aware of
nothing so much as their own vulnerability. In despera-
tion they yanked their guns up, leveling them at the figure
that came flying through. It was only then that they saw
the skirt and beige dress and Fellows had barely time to
lower his gun before Susan Partridge was in his arms,
nearly bowling him over.
"Cover," shouted the chief, whirling so his back was be-
tween her and the house. Crouch and the other squadman
dashed with Wilks to help form a shield and, as if by sig-
nal, the twenty-four men around the house opened fire.
Bullets whined and teargas exploded as windows shattered
and casements splintered. There was the wild flapping of
186
a window shade and the ringing of bullets against gutter
pipes as the men with the giri chased back over the lawn.

No answering shots came from the house for no one

could have approached the windows and lived.
Then they had the giri around the side of the police
car and safety. Her face was white and tear-streaked and
it looked like the frightened face of a child. "God," she

cried. "Is it over? Is it really over?"

Fellows had his huge arm around her as half protec-
tion, half support. He gave her a bear hug and grinned.
"Almost," he said. "Are you hurt?"
"No," she said in disbelief. "I don't know why. No."
She looked up at him and a wavering smile of her own ap-
peared.
Beside them, Crouch was shouting, "Hold your fire.
We've got her. Hold your fire and keep back!" Slowly the
din dropped to sporadic shooting and fell away to silence.
The smoke began to drift and fade.
Fellows looked around, saying, "Got some water, some-
body? Got something she can drink?"
Nobody seemed to and she shook her head. "I'll be all
right. I'm just frightened to death, that's all." She looked
up at Fellows again. "Who are you?"
"Chief of Police in Stockford."
"It's very nice to meet you. I didn't think I liked poUce-
men. I've heard your voice before."
"Maybe it was asking a girl for her driver's license a
couple of days ago."
"Yes," she said in growing awareness. "That was it"
Pain crossed her face. "That poor girl.'*
"What happened to her?"
She shuddered. "It was a nightmare. They took me to
a cave, that girl and the two men. They got me out of
the truck and she saw my ring and took it from me and
they brought me to the cave. Then the girl
— " She shud-
dered again. "What horrible glittering eyes! She couldn't
wait to kill me. She told me to lie down and I knew that
was exactly what she was going to do, but just then the
man called Tony said to her, 'You He down.' Then he
called her names and said she had killed a girl named
Valentine something because she had her license. The
woman kept denying it but Tony was almost frothing at
the mouth he was so violent and, well, remorseless, and
187
finally the woman said yes she had killed her. She said it
was because Valentine had been intimate with Allie. She
said she found Valentine nude in the apartment when she
decided to move back there because of something to do
with the police. She found her nude on the bed and Allie'd
been with her and she said nobody was going to do that
with her man. She got violent too and she called Valentine
all kinds of names and told Tony Valentine was two-

timing him and he should be glad she killed her.

"But Tony wouldn't even listen. He hit her in the
stomach and she fell down on her knees and where he hit
her there was blood all over and I saw he had a knife in
his hand.
"Then she started to plead with him but he hit her
again and she fell over bleeding terribly and holding her
stomach and moaning. And all the time the other man,
Allie, held me tight with a gun in my back and he never
said a word. He just watched.
"Then Tony got a big can of gasoline they had and
started pouring it all over the woman and she kept gasp-
ing and trying to beg and scream and he just wouldn't
stop till he'd emptied the whole can all over her and then
he took and dragged her into the cave, with her twisting
and begging, and he came out and lighted a book of
matches and threw it into the cave and there was this
huge sort of 'whoosh' and this blast of flame and this ter-
rible terrible scream and I passed out cold.
"The next I knew I was on the ground and the two men
were talking about me. The one called Tony wanted to
put me in the cave, kill me and put me in there but the
other one wanted to save me and they were arguing and
I think the only reason Tony decided to let me live was
because they didn't have any more gasoline. He kept say-
ing they should do it according to plan, only I guess the
plan needed gasoline.
"Then they took me back and brought me here in the
truck and Tony took the truck away and got rid of it."
"Did they harm you?" Fellows asked with concern in
his voice.
She shook her head. "They never touched me. They
were too worried trying to decide what they were going
to do next. They tied me to the bed and Allie was the
only one who even thought to give me any food and
188
 "

water. Tony was just going in circles trying to decide

what to do."
Fellows said, "What's going on in there now? How did
you get away?"
"Oh," she said. "Tony untied me to take me to the
window and then he put me back on the bed but he didn't
tie me. They were waiting and then he went back only he
forgot to take me with him or something and he got shot
in the arm. So he came back waving his gun and wanting
to kill me but Allie didn't want to because then they'd get
killed but Tony didn't care. They started wrestling but
Tony only had one arm to use and the gun went off and
he got shot again. That's when I screamed. Tony was
gasping and Allie was so busy trying to help him he for-
got about me. Then the teargas came in on top of that and
I ran. I just ran!"
Crouch, standing close by, watching the house, said,
"How can they stand it in there with the gas?" He raised
his voice. "Keep back and keep watching. They gotta
come out!"
Fellows opened the car door and sat Susan on the edge
of the seat. "Was it just the three of them," he asked, "or
was Jamie Hendel in it too?"
"Jamie?" She looked up at him startled. "You know
about him?"
"We know about him. Was he in it with them?"
"Of course not. Why do you say that?"
"He gave you a ring he stole. It might have been a
come-on."
"That's ridiculous." She paused. "What do you mean, a
ring he stole?"
"The ring he gave you. He stole it. He's stolen quite a
little jewelry."
She looked stunned. "You mean — Jamie's nothing but
a—common thief?"
—
"He's at least that. It's a question
She said tightly, "That's more than enough right there.
And he calls himself a poet!"
"If he's in on this kidnapping that's another matter.
This we want to find out."
"I wouldn't know," she said bitterly. "Maybe he is at
that." She turned away. "A thief," she said in total disgust.
Crouch suddenly shouted, "Watch it. He's coming outl'*
189
 Fellows wheeled. The front door was open and, crossing
the porch, his head bowed, arms upraised, was the youth
named Allie Wells.
"Over here," Crouch called. "And keep those hands
high. Stay down, the rest of you. There's another one in
there. Stay down."
Allie crossed the yard under the muzzles of twenty
trained guns and when he got to the car three men seized
him and two cuflfed his wrists toHis face was
theirs.
streaming tears but more than the gas had caused them
for he was sobbing too.
Crouch said to him bitterly, "Well, you've had yourself
a party! A shopkeeper and two policemen killed, a girl
kidnapped, another girl murdered. You know what that's
gonna get you, don't you? Jesus, you're sure one stupid
sonuvabitch. A six months' burglary rap and you'dda been
out in three on good behavior. You'd be out and clear
right now but no, not you. You had to turn that rap into
every crime in the book, you're so stupid. Well, now
you're gonna find out what happens to guys like you."
Allie's face was pathetically young. It looked untouched
by evil, as if the things he'd done were only a dream. The
grief, however, was real and massive and painted his face
with pain. "It don't matter, it don't matter," he sobbed,
twisting to wipe his tears on his shoulder. "My Friend is
dead."

190
 AVON A The Sign of Good Reading

Thomas Duncan
VIRGO DESCENDING S203 601}

Vincent McConnor
THE FRENCH DOLL S215 6O0

William Harrington
WHICH THE JUSTICE,
WHICH THE
THIEF SI 99 6O0

Lane Kauffmann
THE
PERFECTIONIST G1243 50$

Miles Tripp

KILO 40 S194 6O0

On sale wherever better paperbacks are sold

or order directly from the Pubhsher, includ-
ing cover price plus lOO for handling and
mailing.

AVON BOOKS
959 Eighth Avenue
New York, New York 10019
 jjSJi!^
^^
AMERICA'S BESTSELLER!
^V^^

IHE 6REEN BERETS

THE NAMING
BOMBSHELL
NOVEL
ABOUT A
NEW KIND
OF SOLDIER
IN A NEW
KIND OF WAR
by Robin Moore

All the guts, action and excitement

of the $4.95 bestselling novel -ONLY 95^

AVON BOOKS are available wherever paperbacks are sold.

Orders may be placed by sending publisher 950 plus 100 to
cost of handling and mailing.
AVON BOOKS • 959 Eighth Avenue, New York, N. Y. 10019
 KIDNAP VICTIM
FOUND DEAD
Preliminary examination
of the body at the cave
ailed to reveal the cause of
death though it is thought
the girl was probably slain
shortly after being seized.
Police do not rule out the
possibility, however, th-ai
she was burned alive

The girl's hideous, brutal murder

only could have been done by some
wild, animal-like person. And the
bony finger of suspicion pointed at
Allie and Tony, the two escaped
convi/ts, and Lorraine, their partner-
in-crime. They had killed before, and
could kill again.