A Stone for Danny Fisher (1952) (23 page)

S
ARAH
’
S
plans were all set. She had told Ben she would come down in the car and pick him up that afternoon and they would start out. I didn’t ask her if she had said anything to Maxie about her leaving him, but I guessed that she hadn’t.

For some reason or other, she had hardly spoken to me the few
times she came down to the Island. She had kept away from me and I let her alone. I didn’t see any sense in getting into an argument with her, and before I knew it the season was over.

Suddenly one Thursday Ben was all packed and ready to go. He was happy and excited as a kid with an all-day sucker. He could hardly wait until three o’clock, when she was due to pick him up.

“I wish you were going with us, Danny,” he called from the front room of the bungalow, where he was seated amid his luggage. “At first Sarah thought you were coming. She was terribly disappointed when you told her you were going to stay.”

Then the whole business was suddenly clear in my mind. I was a prize dope. She had meant to ask me herself to come along with them all the while, but when I had told Ben, that first time he mentioned the move, that I didn’t really want to quit New York, she must have thought my mind was finally made up.

Before I had a chance to reply there was a knock at the door. I heard Ben’s voice as he went to the door. “Sarah must be early.”

I heard the door open, then a chill ran through me. “Is Ronnie here?” It was Spit’s voice.

My first impulse was to run, but the only way out was through the front door, so I froze against the wall of the room and strained my ears to the door.

Ben’s voice sounded confused. “Ronnie? Ronnie who?”

Another heavy voice answered. “Don’t stall, bud. You know who we mean. Fields’s girl.”

A note of relief came into Ben’s voice. “You must mean my sister, Sarah, Mr. Fields’s secretary. Come in and wait. She’s not here yet.”

I heard heavy footsteps come into the bungalow and pressed my eye to the crack in the door. Spit and the Collector were standing in the centre of the room. The Collector was laughing.

“Fields’s secretary,” he haw hawed. “That’s a new name for it!”

There was a puzzled look on Ben’s face. “Was there something Mr. Fields wanted?” he asked. “I know Sarah wouldn’t mind if she had to stay a few extra days to help him out.”

The Collector looked at him. “Why?” he asked Ben. “Was she quitting?”

Ben nodded his head. “Didn’t Mr. Fields tell you?”

The Collector began to laugh again. “Maxie’ll get a big boot outta that. He’ll be surprised to find his babe was quitting on him.”

A strained look came on Ben’s face. “What did you say?” he asked tensely.

“You heard me.” The Collector’s voice was deliberately cruel.
“No whore ever powders on Maxie Fields, no matter how high their price.”

Ben’s voice was the scream of a hurt animal. “That’s my sister!” he cried, throwing himself at the Collector.

He moved out of the range of my vision and I heard a sharp crash, then a thud as Ben fell to the floor. He began to scream.

“Sarah! Sarah! Don’t come here!”

I could hear the sound of several sharp slaps and muttered curses, but Ben kept on screaming. I shifted my eyes along the crack until I could see them again.

The Collector had one knee planted on Ben’s chest and was slapping him on the face. “Shut up, yuh son of a bitch!” he swore at him.

Ben kept on squirming and screaming. The Collector grabbed at Ben’s arm and twisted it backward viciously. “Shut up, yuh
one-armed
crumb,” he threatened, “or I’ll rip yuh other arm out of its socket!”

Ben’s face went white and he lay back limply and silently on the floor, his frightened eyes staring up at the Collector. I had never seen such fear.

“Maybe yuh better take him in the back room,” I heard Spit say. “If Ronnie sees him, she might start hollering.”

The Collector nodded and lumbered to his feet, still holding Ben’s arm. “Get up!” he snarled.

Ben awkwardly tried to get to his feet, but couldn’t make it. The Collector yanked on his arm and Ben screamed in pain: “I can’t get up! I’ve only got one leg!”

The Collector laughed. He let go of Ben’s arm and lifted him under the armpits as you would a baby and put him on his feet. “Boy,” he said callously, “you’re a real mess.” He poked Ben in the back and pushed him toward my door.

I looked around frantically. There was a steel bar near the door that I used to prop the tiny window up on hot nights. I picked it up and, hefting it in my hand, hid behind the door.

The door opened and Ben came stumbling through, the Collector following him. The Collector kicked the door shut behind him without turning around and went after Ben.

I stepped in quietly behind him and swung the bar. There was a dull sound and he tumbled silently to the floor. He never knew what hit him.

“I was wondering where you were,” Ben whispered hoarsely.

I looked up from the Collector and met his eyes. “I was here,” I whispered, “but I had to wait for a spot.” My mouth had a bad taste in it.

He bought my explanation. There was something more important on his mind. “Did you hear what they said about Sarah?” he whispered.

I nodded.

“Is it true?”

I looked at him. There was a pain in his face that nothing physical had put there; this came from the heart. Sarah was his kid sister. He had put her through school after their parents died, and then she had taken care of him when he was hurt. Suddenly I knew he would believe whatever I told him. For many reasons he had to, but mostly because he wanted to. Maybe some day he would find out what she had done. But not from me.

I shook my head. “No,” I said surely. “Maxie Fields is a racket boy. Sarah became his secretary, and by the time she found out what he was she knew too much for him to let her go.”

Some of the pain disappeared from his face, but not all of it. “Poor kid,” he murmured. “What she went through all because of me.” He turned his eyes to mine. “How did you meet her?”

“I got into a jam with this guy and I was hurt. She saved me.” It was the first time he had ever asked me what had happened. Until now he had taken her word that I had fallen from her car that night while she was bringing me out to work for him. “She’s a very square kid,” I said.

His eyes held level with mine and I let him search me for the truth. Slowly his face relaxed and the rest of the pain disappeared from his eyes. “What about that guy outside?” he asked.

“We’ll take care of him,” I said. I bent down over the Collector. He was breathing heavily as I flipped open his jacket and pulled his gun from the shoulder holster. I straightened up, hefting it cautiously in my hand. I didn’t want any accidents to happen.

Ben was staring at the gun. “That explains a lot of things,” he said wonderingly. “That’s why she had to get away in such a hurry. That’s why she couldn’t wait for me to get ready, but would pick me up on the way out. That’s why she always had to run right back to work. She didn’t want me to know.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “That’s it.”

The sound of an automobile stopping outside reached our ears. We turned and looked at each other. I waved Ben back to the cot and stepped behind the door. We both stood very still.

I heard the front door open. Spit’s voice was very calm. “Hi yuh, Babe. Maxie sent us after you as soon as he saw yer clothes was gone.”

I could almost hear her sharp intake of breath. Then she screamed: “Ben! What have you done with Ben?”

Spit’s voice was anxious and reassuring. “He’s okay, Ronnie. The Collector’s got him in the back room just to keep him out of trouble.”

I heard her quick footsteps on the floor, then the door opened. She flew into the room. “Ben! Ben!” she cried. “Are you all right?”

Ben stood up. He was smiling at her. Spit was following her into the room. I stepped in behind him and pressed the gun into his spine.

“Stand quiet, Spit,” I said slowly. “I’m very nervous. I never worked one of these things before!”

I’ll say this much for him. Somewhere through the summer Spit had grown up too. He didn’t turn his head. His voice was careful, yet curious. “Danny?”

I prodded him with the gun. “Over against the wall, Spit,” I said. “Till your nose touches.”

He stepped cautiously over the Collector. “Up to your old tricks, huh, Danny?” he asked. “First Maxie’s money, then Maxie’s broad.”

I reversed the gun in my hand and swiped him across the head. He staggered a little and I pushed him with my hand. He landed against the wall with a thump. I shoved the gun into his back again and pulled his knife out of its sheath.

“Maxie ain’t gonna like this, Danny.” Spit’s voice was threatening. “You got away with it once. He ain’t gonna like your hurting his boys again.”

I laughed. “His boys’ll like it even less if they’re dead,” I said coldly.

Ben’s arm was around Sarah. She was crying wildly against his chest. “Don’t cry, honey,” he said. “You’ll never have to work for that man again.”

Her crying stopped suddenly and she looked questioningly at me. “Does he know, Danny?” she asked in a hushed frightened voice. “Did they——?”

“I told him what kind of a man you were secretary to, Sarah,” I interrupted her quickly. “I told him how he wouldn’t let you quit because you knew too much about his business.”

“I know all about him now, Sarah,” Ben said. “Why didn’t you tell me before? We would have found a way out together.”

She was looking at me gratefully now. I smiled at her. She turned back to her brother. “I was afraid of him, Ben. I didn’t dare.”

Ben’s voice was reassuring. “Well, you don’t have to worry now. We’ll just turn these guys over to the police and be on our way.”

Fear had come back into her voice. “We can’t do that, Ben!”

My voice joined hers. “They’ll only hold you up and you’d never get started,” I said. “You better get going. I’ll turn them in after you’ve gone.”

“Will that be all right?” Ben hesitated.

“Sure it will,” I said quickly. “Now hurry. Get your stuff into the car.”

Spit’s voice came muffled from against the wall. “I can’t stand this way much longer, Danny. Can I turn around?”

“Sure,” I said, reaching for a piece of wire lying on a shelf. “In just a minute.”

I pulled his hands behind him and looped the wire around them. I jerked it tight and turned him around. His eyes were flashing at me.

“Sit down, Spit. Make yourself comfortable,” I tumbled him on to the cot.

He sat up sputtering, but he didn’t say a word. I looked over my shoulder. Almost all Ben’s luggage was gone. Just one small piece remained.

Ben picked it up and looked back at me hesitantly. “Sure you’ll be all right, Danny?”

I grinned at him. “I’ll be fine, Ben. Now get outta here.”

He came toward me and his hand brushed my shoulder. “So long, kid,” he said. “Thanks for everything.”

“Thank you, Ben,” I said. “So long.”

He turned and walked out the door as Sarah came in. She came up to me, her eyes looking into mine. There was a tense curious look in them.

“Sure you don’t want to come with us?” she asked through stiff lips.

I managed a smile. “Can’t now,” I answered. “I’m a little busy.”

She tried a smile, but she couldn’t make it. She half turned away, then looked back at me. “Danny!” she cried, and ran back into my arms.

“Better go, Sarah,” I said sombrely. “This way you can leave the whole thing behind you. There’ll be nothing to remind you and make you remember.”

She nodded her head and looked up at me. I could see the tears standing in her eyes. She kissed me quickly on the cheek and walked back to the door. “’Bye, Danny. Good luck,” she said, and she was gone before I could answer her.

I turned back to Spit. He was watching me.

“We looked every place but here, Danny,” he said. “But we should have guessed it. Ronnie was out that night too. I remember now.”

There was something different about him. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but I did now. He’d had something done to his mouth. His lip wasn’t split any more and he didn’t spray saliva when he spoke.

He saw that I had noticed it. His eyes lighted up. “I forgot to thank
you, Danny, but you didn’t give me a chance. When you slugged me that night you split my lip again and the doctor had to do a plastic job on me, and while he was at it, he fixed the whole thing.”

I grinned. “Don’t mention it, Spit. Now stretch out on your belly.”

Reluctantly he stretched out on the narrow cot. Quickly I caught his ankles together with the wire and pulled his feet up behind them and ran the wire through his hands, binding them together. I
straightened
up and looked down at him. He ought to be good for a long time like this.

He lay there quietly and I went over the Collector. He was breathing more easily. I flipped open an eye and looked at it. It was dull and glazed. He would keep too.

I picked up the few things I owned and put them in the small valise I had bought, with Spit watching me all the while from the cot.

“You won’t get away this time, Danny,” he said.

I walked back to the cot and looked down at him. I raised the gun thoughtfully and watched the fear grow in his eyes. “How do yuh know?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. Just stared at the gun with big, frightened eyes. After a moment I smiled and dropped it into my pocket. A look of relief came into his face.

“It seems to me we met like this before,” I said. “Last May, wasn’t it?”

He nodded his head. He was too scared to talk.

“Do you love me as much in September as you did in May?” I laughed.

He didn’t answer.

I bent over him and slapped his face with my open hand. “If you’re as smart as I think you are, Spit,” I said, picking up my bag and walking to the door, “you’ll be careful not to run into me again.” I opened the door. “You might not always be this lucky. They don’t fix holes in your head like they do on your lip.”

The southbound bus was on the ferry leaving the dock as I looked back through the window at the lights of New York. They were sparkling crazily. It had begun to rain.