Part 20 (1/2)

”But hold it a minute. Sure, the alarm was gimmicked. But there are plenty of pros would know how to do that.”

”There's a lot more, but no time to go into it now,” I said. ”Give me anything else you've got on it.”

”Okay. They figure there were three of them, at least, and maybe four. They hijacked the gasoline rig at a trucker stop on the highway about ten miles from town. Police found the driver the next morning in some bushes back of the place. They'd started to tie him, apparently, and then discovered they didn't have to. They'd hit him too hard.

”This power sub-station was out in the edge of town where the highway dropped down a little grade, on a curve. Fenced, of course, like they all are, but it might as well have had a silk scarf around it. They rolled the tanker right into it and let it burn. Melted the transformers and poles and switches like peanut brittle, had all the firemen and police in the county there for three hours, and put out the lights in the whole end of town where the supermarket and jewelry store were. The gang must have had a good-sized truck of their own, and dollies and hoists, because they just picked up both the safes and walked off with 'em. Burned them open out in the country somewhere, I suppose.”

”Talley's junk yard would have a big truck, wouldn't it? And heavy moving gear, and acetylene torches.”

”Sure. He's got all that stuff.”

”How about the time and date?” I asked.

”Sub-station went just a little after midnight. November eighth. It was almost daylight before anybody discovered the robberies. Look, have you got any kind of proof at all?”

”No,” I said. ”Not yet. But I've got some very interesting people. And I'm going to have more if my luck holds.”

”Anything I can do?”

”Yes. If you will. Is Frankie Crossman married?”

”Yeah.”

”Okay. You told him to go home after that fight, so he should be there now. Get where you can watch his house. He's going to come out in a few minutes and drive off. After he's been gone a few minutes, knock on the door and ask for him. Be as vague about it as you can so you won't get in trouble, but give his wife the impression Frankie's wanted for questioning in something very serious.”

”Got you.”

”Then drive out to Redfield's house. I pulled his phone out of the wall. He won't be there, of course, but say you've been trying to get hold of him at the office and he's out. Give her the message, just in case she sees him first. Say that I called you. I wouldn't say where I was, of course, but it was a local call, so I'm still in the area and cut off, and I sounded as if I'd gone crazy. I wanted you to call the F.B.I, because I had some information in a Federal case of some kind, and that as soon as they were here to protect me I'd come in and surrender on the rape charge. Your opinion, of course, is that it's a lot of hogwash, but you think I might try again and they can trace the call if they'll set up a watch on your phone. Or Redfield himself could call the nearest office of the F.B.I, and make arrangements with them to have the call traced if I try to get in touch with them direct.”

He whistled. ”Son, I don't know how this is going to come out, but there's one thing. They'll sure as h.e.l.l know you've been here.”

I hope so.”

”If only there was some way I could stop Redfield!”

”You can't. His office has jurisdiction. And he's in charge.”

”Maybe if I did call the F.B.I-”

”I've got no proof. Not yet.”

”Well, good luck.”

”Thanks,” I said. ”I'm going to need it.”

I hung up, and checked my watch. It was twenty past midnight; we were going to have to work fast. T.J. and Trudy were watching me uncertainly. I called Georgia. She hurried in.

I think we're in business,” I said. ”But there's no time to talk now. See if there's a sheet on that bed back there.”

She brought it, and I began tearing it into strips. She watched, mystified. I rolled T.J. over on the floor, and tied his hands behind his back. The sheet was raw muslin, and quite strong. He struggled weakly and cursed. I shoved cloth in his mouth and made it fast with a strip tied in back of his head. I tied Trudy's hands, but didn't bother to gag her. She called me things I'd never heard before.

Hauling T.J. to his feet, I took the car keys from his pocket, handed Georgia the sap, and jerked my head towards Trudy. She was lying on the floor in front of the jukebox. ”If she tries to get up, slice her across the backs of the legs just as hard as you can. Think you could do it?”

She nodded grimly. ”I would love to. Believe me.”

I shoved T.J. out the door ahead of me, and took him outside to his car. Pus.h.i.+ng him inside on the rear seat, I tied his legs together with some more of the sheet, and drove the car down behind the barn where it would be out of sight. When I went back, Trudy was still mouthing obscenities and Georgia Langston was kneeling beside her with the blackjack poised. I untied Trudy's hands. Georgia looked at me questioningly.

I grinned coldly. ”Trudy's our secretary. She's a great little girl on the telephone and she's about to go to work for us now.”

I hauled her to her feet, ”You impress me,” she said. ”You really do. Scare me some more.”

”This may not be very pretty,” I said to Georgia. ”You keep an eye on the road.”

”All right,” she said quietly. ”But don't think it would bother me.” She went out.

I took Trudy's arm and led her over to the desk. ”What a pair of creeps,” she said, full of bright insolence.

I ignored her, looking up Frankie Crossman's residence in the phone book. Hoping he and his wife would be asleep, I dialed it, and listened, holding my finger on the switch. It went on ringing . . . four . . . five ... six. . . . Just after the seventh ring, somebody picked it up. I pressed down at the same instant, breaking the connection. I hung up.

”I'll bet that was a real smart move,” Trudy said. ”If I was stupid enough to figure it out.”

”You don't have to,” I said. ”You just do what I tell you. In about two minutes, as soon as he gets back to bed, you're going to call him. I'll tell you what to say.”

”Up yours,” she said.

I slapped her.

She staggered sideways and fell to one knee. When she got up she tried to scratch me. I caught both her wrists in my left hand and slapped her twice more, forehanded and backhanded. I shoved and let her go. She fell backwards.

She looked up at me with the beginnings of doubt.

”You sumb.i.t.c.h, you're crazy-”

”Get up, Trudy,” I said.

She climbed to her feet, watching me warily and trying to back away. I said nothing, and merely slapped her again, feeling a little sick at my stomach. She was about eighteen. But it had to be done. This was the method they'd left us.

”You cut it out,” she said, sullen now instead of insolent.

”Your trouble, Trudy, is that you've been milking complacent mopes all your life and never did run into a desperate mope before. I haven't got anything more to i lose. Catch?”

I pulled the .38 from my pocket and c.o.c.ked it.

”You wouldn't.” She licked her lips nervously.

”We can use T.J. if you don't want to do it. He'll be easier to convince, too.”

”Why?” she asked.

”Guess,” I said.