David Goodis: Five Noir Novels of the 1940s and '50s (Library of America) (47 page)

H
ARBIN TOLD
himself it was just like sudden bad weather and the bad pattern of it followed the pattern of all the other things that had happened. He knew the aquamarine eyes had watched them as they came out of the hotel, had followed them along the boardwalk, had followed them here, had waited, and Charley had selected the moment. And this was the moment.

The gun showed only long enough to let them know it was there, then Charley put it underneath his jacket, the jacket bulging just a little where the muzzle pressed against the fabric. Charley was standing with his back to the rail of the pavilion and now he began to slide himself toward the stairs going down to the beach.

“Come along,” Charley said. “And don’t forget the suitcase.”

Harbin studied the tone of it, caught the trace of hysteria in the tone and knew there was nothing to do but take the suitcase and go along with Charley to the beach. Gladden looked up at him, to see what he wanted her to do. He smiled for her, then he shrugged, and carrying the suitcase he followed her toward the stairs, then down the stairs with Charley’s face in front of them as Charley backed his way down to the beach.

The three of them were on the beach. Charley moved around to get the gun pointed at their spines. Charley said, “Let’s take a walk. Let’s go look at the ocean.”

They were walking across the beach toward the ocean. The full moon splashed a blue-white glow against the black water. The glow seemed to melt and widen as it came into the beach. It floated onto the beach, a floating of a pale blue gauze that took shadow and weaved in and out in front of them as they walked toward the water.

The sand was soft and thick and moved in little hills under their feet. The sound of the ocean, a big sullen sound, blended with the hum and drone coming from the boardwalk. They moved toward the hard wet sand near the water. The boardwalk sound began to fade and as they came onto the damp sand
it was all very far away from the boardwalk and away from everything.

“Turn around,” Charley said.

They faced Charley. They saw the shine on the barrel of the gun pointing at them.

Charley made a gesture with the gun. “Slide the suitcase over here.”

Harbin shoved the suitcase across the sand. Charley picked up the suitcase, felt the weight of it, nodded very slowly and shoved it back toward Harbin.

“Open it,” Charley said.

The gun moved closer to Harbin. He unstrapped the suitcase and opened the lid. He displayed the green flame of the stones and sensed the flame of Charley’s eyes looking at the stones. He heard Gladden’s breathing. He raised his head and saw the gun and then Charley’s face. There was something very unusual in Charley’s face. The features seemed completely out of balance.

“Now I got them,” Charley said. “Now you’re giving them to me.”

“All right, take them.”

“Not yet. That wouldn’t be proper. Just to make it fair all around I think I’ll give you something.”

“You use the gun,” Harbin told him, “and they’ll hear it on the boardwalk. You’ll have a thousand people on the beach and you’ll be hemmed in.”

Charley moved in closer and the moonlight was full on his twisted features. “The last time you gave me information, I took it. You pulled my mind away from the suitcase and you had me turning my back on it and walking out of the room. That was a pretty move, and you’re a classy engineer. So it means this, it means I can’t afford to let you louse me up again.”

“Look, you’ve got the haul. Why don’t you just take it and go away?”

Charley inclined his head so that it rested on his shoulder. His voice was mild. “You really want me to do that?”

“It’s the only thing you can do.”

“And what will you do?”

Harbin shrugged. “Nothing.”

“You sure?” Charley was smiling. “You really sure?”

Harbin shrugged again. “Examine it for yourself. We can’t afford to move against you. We’re too hot ourselves.”

Charley let out a mild laugh. “You’re real classy, you are. I get a kick from the way you evade an issue. I like the way—” The laugh became sort of wild. “You know what you want to do.” With the gun he indicated Gladden, his eyes staying on Harbin, his voice jagged. “You want to get rid of this girl and go back to Della. That’s what you want. And I got half a mind to let you do it. I’d like to be with you when you get back there to that room. I want to be there, watching you when you stand there. When you look at Della. I want to watch your face very close. I want to hear what you have to say. You’ll do all the talking because I’ll just be standing there, I won’t be saying a word. And I know Della won’t be talking.”

Harbin felt something slicing into him, felt part of himself being sliced away.

He heard Charley saying, “Maybe the thing Della liked about you was your class. Maybe that was it. She used to tell me I ought to have more class. She never liked when I talked loud and got excited. You don’t talk loud and you don’t get excited, so maybe that was what she went for. Whatever it was, she sure went for it. I mean all the way, completely, way up to the point where there I am coming back to the room and I find her sitting on the bed and you’re not there. So naturally I want to know what happened, and Della started giving me a story and I know she’s giving me a story from the way it’s coming out. I see she’s in very bad shape and then she started crying and she couldn’t talk anymore. So then I knew. I put it together and when I had it together it was too much, and something happened, and I put my hands around her throat. I choked her. I choked Della until she was dead.”

Charley was breathing hard, his face shining above the gun, and suddenly he kicked viciously at the suitcase, sent it over on its side so that the emeralds went flying out and made a green flash and glittered green on the sand.

“I don’t want them,” Charley said. He started to weep, loud wracking weeping. “I don’t care about them, you hear? Only one thing I ever really cared for. I cared for Della. I want her back, you hear?” The weeping was very loud. The heavy tears went running down Charley’s face. “Will I ever find another Della?
No. Never. There was only one Della. Now she’s dead and I got nothing in my life. But I know this—” Charley lowered his head, his eyes trying to smash Harbin apart. “I know if it wasn’t for you—”

“No, don’t,” Harbin pleaded quietly.

“You—”

“Don’t.”

“Please don’t,” Gladden said. “Please, Charley, please—”

Charley laughed through the weeping and came moving in with the gun and Harbin saw the split taking place in Charley’s brain, saw the brain coming apart as the gun came up in a slanting path that ended when Charley shoved the gun very close. Charley’s eyes were opened wide, the white shining like white platters surrounding aquamarine. Then Charley had the gun pressing against Harbin’s chest, the finger getting hard on the trigger. Harbin saw it coming, felt it coming, but then it wasn’t coming because Gladden moved and brought her arm down on Charley’s arm, her weight against Charley, her other arm swinging hard against Charley’s face. Harbin was underneath the gun, slamming his shoulder into Charley’s groin, getting his shoulder in there solid, pushing and then heaving to knock Charley off his feet and go with Charley to the sand. He was on top of Charley and he reached out and grabbed Charley’s wrist and used his own arm as a lever to bend Charley’s wrist, bend it back and far back. He saw the gun in Charley’s hand, saw the fingers coming loose and away from the gun, saw the gun falling away from the hand, bright blue and in the air, curving and going away and onto the sand. He reached for the gun. Charley hit him in the mouth. He made another try for the gun. Charley hit him again, sent a fist against the side of his head. He went on reaching for the gun. Charley put two hands around his throat and began to choke him.

He tried to pull his throat away from Charley’s hands. He could feel the thumb banging into his jugular vein. The pain was deep, and it went riding up into his eyes. He knew his eyes were starting to bulge. It was difficult to see anything. His mouth fell wide open and his tongue was hanging out. He tried to work his arms but there was no feeling in his arms. All the feeling was in his head now and it was the feeling of going up and
back and around and down toward nothing. He could see the sky and the stars, the lights in the dark blue, the big dark blue that went sliding slowly, falling toward him but sliding away. And then he heard Gladden.

“Let go,” Gladden said. “Let go of him.”

He heard the grunt as Charley went on choking him. He felt his head going far to one side and it seemed that his head was being taken away from his body. Then he saw Gladden, and in the same moment he saw the face of Charley hovering over his own face. He saw the gun in Gladden’s hand, and all this was very close to his eyes and it blotted out the sky. He heard the shot, saw the flash, felt the choking, heard another shot, saw nothing, felt the choking, and then another shot and then another and Charley’s hands came away from his throat. He saw Charley’s face and saw Gladden standing there with the smoking gun. That was for just a moment, and after that the sand came up and pounded into his skull.

G
LADDEN HAD
her hands under his arms. She spoke to him but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. The pain grew very bad and he didn’t think he would be able to get up. Gladden tried to get him up off the sand. His legs were liquid. He had his eyes closed and he was fighting to get up, trying to hear what Gladden was saying.

Then he could hear it as it went in past the pain. She was telling him that he had to get up. Even if he couldn’t get up, he had to get up.

“They heard the shots,” she said. “They’re coming.”

He worked with her, came forward to his knees, facing the boardwalk. He saw a rapid movement on the boardwalk, people coming toward the rail and crowding the rail. All along the boardwalk within the range of his vision they were pushing toward the rail, trying to see what had caused the explosive sounds in the darkness of the beach. He had his arm around Gladden’s shoulder as she brought him to standing. He looked down and saw Charley.

The moonlight was on Charley and it was rather bright where it came against the head and shoulders. There it seemed to be moving moonlight because the blood was still flowing. Only a small part of Charley’s face remained. The rest of it caused Harbin to turn his head fast. He looked at the boardwalk. He saw the moving mob and under the boardwalk lights they were small enamel figures heading toward the various stairways going down to the beach. His head clouded for a moment and he had to close his eyes. When he opened his eyes he saw the gun on the sand near Charley. He turned his head and saw Gladden. She was looking at the boardwalk. Then she looked at the dead man on the sand. Then again at the boardwalk.

“We can’t run,” she said. “There’s no use running.”

“We better run. Let’s move.”

“Where?” she said. “Look.” And she pointed up and down along the boardwalk. All along the boardwalk they were coming down the stairways, the stairway directly ahead, the stairways
on both sides, then more stairways, and more stairways. Harbin looked at it. He heard the drone of it, the rising sound of droning, and suddenly a sound that split the droning. A sound of whistles. He knew it was police whistles and something caused him to take another look at the dead man. He told himself the dead man was a policeman and would be eventually identified as a policeman. He knew it meant a very quick decision from any jury, so they had to run, he told himself, but they couldn’t run because if they ran they would run into the people and the police coming toward them from the front and from both sides. He looked at Gladden. She had her face turned to the ocean. He took hold of her wrist. His heart began to beat very fast.

“That’s it,” he said. “That’s the only way.”

“We’ll have to go far out.”

“Very far out.” They were running now, running toward the water, he could see the plan of it, and as the design took shape, he took himself above the pain and the weakness and held himself there as he ran with Gladden toward the water.

“Nat,” she panted. “Can you swim?”

“You’ve seen me swim.”

“But now. Can you swim now?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll swim.” They were on the wet shining sand and she was going ahead of him and then losing stride to wait for him and he said, “Keep going. Just keep going.”

They ran into the water. They ran through the shallow water where it came in little waves snapping at the beach. The foam of the big waves was thick and very white out there against the black, and they were going toward the big waves, the water up to their knees, the waves breaking just ahead of them. He saw that Gladden still had the hat on, the new hat she had bought in the boardwalk shop. The hat was distinct and bright orange against the black water. He was directly behind Gladden as she threw herself under a wave, and he followed her under the wave, came up alongside her and saw that she still had the hat on.

“Take off the hat,” he said. “They might see it from the beach.”

“I better take off more than the hat.” She was removing the hat-pin from her hair. “My shoes feel heavy.”

“Wait until we’re further out.” But he knew they couldn’t wait
very long. His clothes and his shoes were pulling him down. It made him feel as though he were dragging a wagon behind him through the water. He swam ahead of Gladden while she went under water to take off the orange hat and crumble it and let it sink. He remembered times when Gladden was a kid and he had watched her swim at municipal pools. She had been a smooth little swimmer and swimming was a practice that never went away once it was acquired. It helped some, to know Gladden was a good swimmer. He sent himself under another wave, going under deep, then looked around and saw Gladden swimming toward him. He could see her face clearly against the dark water and she was grinning. He forgot what they were doing out here in the ocean in the night and he figured he was out here with Gladden for some fun and swimming in the Atlantic. Then he felt the drag of his clothes and his shoes pulling him down in the water and he realized what he and Gladden were doing out here, what they were trying to do, and he felt the panic.

He felt the big panic because everything was big. The sky was big and the ocean was big. The waves were very big. The tops of the waves were high above his head, the foam coming like the foaming mouths of big beasts leaping at him. He went under, came up, went under again to slide himself underneath the heavy current of the waves. Gladden came up alongside him and they went under a wave together. Harbin failed to go under deep enough and the rush of the wave caught him full and knocked him off balance. He hit the bottom of the ocean. The panic was there very big and he had a feeling he was several hundred feet down at the bottom of the ocean underneath the night. But coming up he was standing and the water reached only to his chest. He was facing the boardwalk, seeing the lights and the movement of color against the glow and some vague action on the beach, but that was all. He didn’t want to take the time to study it further. He turned and went under another big wave as it came lunging at him. He saw Gladden was some yards ahead and she was swimming nicely. He saw her hair flowing, glowing gold along the black water.

They swam through the waves, went out past the breakers, swimming out and came to the deep water and went on going. They went swimming out, staying close together, concentrating
on the swimming. The water was calm out here. Harbin decided it was time to really start swimming and in order to do that they would have to get rid of the clothes and the shoes.

“Hold it,” he said. “Tread water.”

“You all right?”

“I’m fine. Take off your things.”

They treaded water while they took off their clothes. Harbin had trouble with the shoelaces and he went down a few times and felt the drag of the effort while he struggled with the shoes. Finally he had the shoes off and he liked the free movement of his legs in the water. He took off his clothes and pulled his wallet from the trousers, took the bills from the wallet and pushed them deeply into his socks, so that he could feel the security of the paper money against his ankles and the soles of his feet. He had all his clothes off except his shorts and the socks, with the money in the socks. He thought of the money and it was a good thought, because he knew to what extent they would need the money when they came out of the water.

He wondered when they would come out of the water. He wondered if they would ever come out of the water. That brought the panic again and he began to call himself names for allowing these things to occur to him. He told himself it was going to be all right. That was the only way to look at it, because it was going to be all right. He looked at Gladden. She was grinning. It was the same grin she had given him when they were back there going through the breakers. All at once, staring at the grin, he knew there was something wrong with the grin. It wasn’t really a grin. It seemed to be more on the order of a grimace.

“Gladden.”

“Yes?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Tell me, Gladden.”

“I tell you nothing’s wrong.”

“You tired?”

“Not a bit.” Her face bobbed up and down in the water. She grinned.

“Gladden,” he said. “Listen, Gladden.” He treaded water toward her. “We’ll work our way out of this.”

“
Sure we will.”

“We’ll swim out far. We’ve got to swim out very far.”

“Way out,” she said.

“Very far out. They may look at the water. Maybe they’ll look far out.”

“I know.”

“And then,” he said, “when we’re out far enough, we’ll turn and follow the line of the beach. We’ll do that for a while and then we’ll start turning in toward the beach.”

She nodded. “I get it.”

“We’ll come in,” he said, “where it looks safe.”

“Sure,” she nodded. “That’s the way we’ll do it.”

“I’ve kept the money with me,” he said. “I’ve got it right here with me. In my socks. As long as we have the money, we’ll manage. There’s plenty of money and I know we’ll manage.”

“After we come back to the beach.”

“It won’t be too long.”

“How long?” She lost the grin, then quickly picked it up again.

“Not very long,” he said. “What we’ve got to do is not get tired. We’ll take our time and we won’t get tired.”

“I’m not the least bit tired.” The grin became wider. “I bet it’s a very crowded beach right now.”

“Mobbed.” He wanted to look toward the beach but something told him he shouldn’t look at it. He knew it would be very far away and he didn’t want Gladden to see him looking at the distant beach. He said, “I guess they’re just standing around. Just a mob of them standing around and figuring he probably did away with himself.”

“That’s good,” she said. “That means we’re clear.”

“I’m glad you’re not tired,” he said. “Now, look, Gladden—”

“Yes? Yes?”

“If you get tired, I want you to tell me. You hear?”

“All right,” she said. “I’ll tell you.”

“I mean it.” He came in close to her and took a close look at her. “If you get tired it’s important that you tell me right away. We have a lot of swimming to do.”

“All right,” she said. “Let’s start doing it.”

They resumed the swimming. Without the clothes and the shoes it was easy swimming now and they cut their way through the
calm water, going out, the black a thick black ahead of them, nothing ahead of them but the black of water and sky, except where the moonlight came against the ocean. The moonlight was far to one side, and it went running slowly along with them as they swam out.