Part 3 (1/2)
Johnny was looking uneasily at Riley.
”I'm not getting mixed up in a s.n.a.t.c.h,” he said feebly.
”Please telephone my father...” Miss Blandish began when Riley stepped up to her and smacked her face. She reeled back with a startled cry.
”I told you, didn't I?” he shouted. ”Shut up!”
She put her hand to her face, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng.
”You beast!” she exclaimed. ”How dare you touch me!”
”I'll do more than touch you if you don't pipe down!” Riley snarled. ”Sit down and shut up or I'll slap you again!” Old Sam came over. He looked worried. He picked up one of the boxes and put it close to Miss Blandish.
”Take it easy, miss,” he said. ”You don't want to upset the fella.”
Miss Blandish sank onto the box. She hid her face in her hands.
”Who is she?” Johnny asked.
”The Blandish girl,” Riley said. ”She's worth a million bucks, Johnny. We'll split even among the lot of us. We'll only be here three or four days.”
Johnny squinted at him.
”Blandish--he's pretty rich, isn't he?”
”He's worth millions. How about it, Johnny?”
”Well...” Johnny scratched his dirty scalp. ”I guess, but not for longer than four days.”
”Where can I put her?” Riley asked. ”Have you got a room for her?”
Johnny pointed to one of the doors leading off the balcony.
”Up there.”
Riley turned to Miss Blandish.
”Get up there!”
”Do what he tells you, miss,” Old Sam said. ”You don't want any trouble.”
The girl got to her feet. She went up the stairs. Riley followed her. On the overhanging balcony, she paused to look down at the three men who stared up at her.
Casually, Johnny walked over to the gun rack by the front door. There were two shotguns in the rack.
Riley kicked open the door of the room Johnny had indicated.
”Get in!”
She entered the small dark room. Riley followed her. He lit an oil lamp hanging from the ceiling and glanced around.
There was a bed with a dirty mattress, but no bedding. A jug of water with a thin film of dust floating on the water stood on the floor. A tin basin rested on a small packing case. Thick sacking was nailed across the window. There was a musty smell of damp in the room.
”This'll make a change for you,” Riley sneered, ”It'll take some of the starch out of you. Stay here and keep quiet or I'll come up and fix you.”
Miss Blandish was watching a large squat spider crawling across the wall. Her eyes were wide with horror.
”Scare you?” Riley said. He reached out and picked the spider off the wall. The short hairy legs of the insect waved wildly. ”Do you want me to drop it down your pretty dress?”
Miss Blandish backed away, shuddering.
”You behave yourself and you'll be all right,” Riley said, grinning at her. ”Start trouble and you'll be sorry.” While he was speaking he was pinching the spider between his finger and thumb. ”If you don't behave, I'll treat you the same way. Now you keep quiet.”
He went out, shutting the door behind him.
Bailey and Old Sam were sitting on boxes, smoking. Riley came down the stairs.
”How about some food, Johnny?” he asked, then he stiffened.
Johnny was holding a shotgun in his hands, covering the three men. Riley's hand moved to his gun, but the look in Johnny's dim eyes stopped him.
”Don't start anything, Riley,” Johnny said. ”This gun'll blow your chest to pieces.”
”What's the idea?” Riley asked through stiff lips.
”I don't like any of this,” Johnny said. ”Sit down. I want to talk to you.”
Riley sat down near Bailey.
”It was on the radio half an hour before you arrived. Who killed the guy?”
”He did,” Riley said, jerking his thumb at Bailey. ”The stupid b.a.s.t.a.r.d lost his head.”
”Like h.e.l.l I did!” Bailey snarled. ”I had to kill him. This rat let me handle him alone...”
”Oh, shut up!” Riley said violently. ”What's it matter? The guy's dead and we have a murder rap around our necks but we've got the girl. If we can get the money from her old man, we have nothing to worry about.”
Johnny shook his head. After hesitating, he lowered the gun.
”I've known you boys since you were kids,” he said. ”I never thought you'd turn killers. I don't like it. Murder and kidnapping. You'll have the Feds after you. You're going to get hot. You'll be public enemies. You are way out of your cla.s.s.”
”Your share of the loot will be two hundred and fifty grand,” Riley said quietly. ”That's big money, Johnny.”
”Think of the booze you'll be able to buy with all that dough,” Bailey said brutally. ”You'll be able to swim in whiskey.”
Johnny blinked.
”There isn't that much money in the world.”
”Two hundred and fifty grand, Johnny: all for you.”