Bill Pronzini - Bleeders

I laid a red queen on a black king, glanced up at Jay Cohalan through the door to his private cubicle. He was pacing again, side wall to side window across the front of his desk, his hands in constant restless motion at his sides. The cubicle was carpeted; his footfalls made no sound. There was no discernible sound anywhere except for the faint snap and slap when I turned over a card and put it down. An office building at night is one of the quietest places there is. Eerily so, if you spend enough time listening to the silence.

Trey. Nine of diamonds. Deuce. Jack of spades. I was marrying the jack to a red queen when Cohalan quit pacing and came over to stand in the doorway. He watched me for a time, his hands still doing scoop-shovel maneuvers. Big man in his late thirties, handsome except for a weak chin, his dusty brown hair and tan suit disheveled. A sheen of sweat coated his cheeks and upper lip, even though it was not warm in there.

How can you just sit there playing cards? he said.

There were several answers to that. Years of stakeouts and dull routine had taught me a certain grudging patience. Wed only been waiting about an hour. The money, seventy-five thousand dollars in hundred-dollar bills, didnt belong to me. I was neither worried nor upset, nor afraid that something might go wrong. But I passed on all of that and settled instead for a neutral response.

Solitaires good for waiting, I said. Keeps your mind off the clock.

Its after seven. Why the hell doesnt he call?

You know the answer to that.

Yeah. He wants me to sweat.

And youre obliging him.

For Christs sake, I cant help it. Im scared, man.

I know it.

Sadistic bastard.

He didnt mean me, so I said, Blackmails that kind of game. Torture the victim, bend his will to yours.

Game. My God. Cohalan came out into the anteroom and began to pace around there, in front of his secretarys desk where I was sitting. Its driving me crazy, trying to figure out who he is, how he found out about my past.

Any luck?

No. He didnt give me a hint, any of the times I talked to him. But he knows everything, every damn detail.

Youll have the answers before long.

Cohalan stopped abruptly, leaned toward me. Listen, this has to be the end of it. Youve got to stay with him tonight, make sure hes arrested. I cant take any more.

Ill do my job, dont worry.

Seventy-five thousand dollars, he said. I almost had a heart attack when he told me that was how much he wanted this time. The last payment... balloon payment, he called it. What a crock. Hell come back for more some day. I know it, Carolyn knows it, you know it. Pacing again. Poor Carolyn. Shes so high-strung, emotional... its been even harder on her.

I turned a card. Spade nine. I laid it on a ten of diamonds and squared the edges.

Cohalan said, She wanted me to go the police in the beginning, did I tell you that? Practically begged me.

You told me.

I should have, I guess. Now Ive got to pay a middleman for what I couldve had done for nothing. No offense.

None taken.

I just couldnt bring myself to do it, walk into the Hall of Justice and confess my sins to a cop. It was hard enough letting Carolyn talk me into hiring a private detective.

Black four. No help.

That trouble when I was a kid... its a criminal offense; I could still be prosecuted for it. And its liable to cost me my job if it comes out. I went through hell telling Carolyn when the blackmail started, couldnt force myself to go into the more sordid details. Not with you, either. The police... no, never. I know that bastard will probably spill the whole story when hes in custody, try to drag me down with him, but I keep hoping it wont happen. A miracles all Ive got left to cling to, like a drowning man clinging to a stick. You know what I mean?

I know what you mean, I said.

I shouldntve paid him when he crawled out of the woodwork eight months ago. I know that now. But back then it seemed like the only way to keep my life from being ruined. Carolyn thought so, too. If I hadnt started paying him, half of her inheritance wouldnt already be gone.

Ace of clubs. I put that card down, added the deuce off the pile. I wasnt winning, just holding my own about all you can expect in most games of solitaire. And what most of us learn to settle for in living our lives.

Cohalan paced in silence for a time, stopped to stare out through the window at the fog-misted lights of the city, then started up again pacing and talking both. I hated taking money from her. Hated it, no matter how much she kept insisting it belongs to both of us. And I hate myself for doing it, almost as much as I hate him. All my fault, start to finish. But goddamn it, blackmails the worst crime there is, short of murder.

Not the worst, I said, but bad enough.

This has to be the end of it. That seventy-five thousand in there... its the last of her money, our money. All our savings sitting right there in that briefcase. If that son of a bitch gets away with it, well be wiped out. You cant let that happen.

I didnt say anything. Wed been through all this before, too many times.

He said, Ive got to take a leak my bladder feels like its ready to pop. Johns just down the hall, I wont be two minutes. If the phone rings...

Ill handle it, dont worry.

Two minutes, he said and went out at a half run.

He was gone three. I was dealing myself a new hand when he came back. Not yet, I said.

Shit.

He stood over me, breathing heavily through his nose. Abruptly he said, This job of mine, youd think it pays pretty well, wouldnt you? My own office, secretary, executive title, expense account... looks good and sounds good, but its a frigging dead end. Junior account executive stuck in corporate middle management thats all I am or ever will be. Therere already rumors the companys going to downsize. If that happens, Ill be one of the first to go.

No other prospects?

Not any thatll pay what Im making now. Sixty thousand gross. And Carolyn makes twenty-five teaching those music courses of hers. Eighty-five thousand for two people, no kids, that seems like plenty, but its not... not these days and sure as hell not in San Francisco. Dot-com paradise, thats what the citys become, cost of livings through the roof. Add taxes, mortgage payments, all the rest of it, you have to scrimp like hell to put anything away. And then some stupid mistake you made when you were a kid comes back to haunt you, starts draining what little youve got to keep you solvent... you understand, right? But I didnt see where I had a choice at first. I was afraid of going to prison, afraid of losing this dead-end job before they throw me out. Caught between a rock and a hard place. I still feel that way, but now I dont care, I just want that scumbag to get whats coming to him...

Repetitious babbling. His mouth had a wet look, and his gaze kept jumping from me to other points in the anteroom. His irises were as bright as blue-veined marbles.

I said, Why dont you sit down?

I cant sit. My nerves are shot.

Youre making me nervous.

I cant sit, I tell you. Why doesnt he call? Its already seven... seven oclock...

Take a few shallow breaths before you start to hyperventilate.

Listen, dont tell me what

The telephone on his desk went off.

The sudden clamor jerked him half around, as if with an electric shock. In the quiet that followed, the first thing I could hear was the irregular rasp of his breathing. He looked back at me as the bell sounded again. I was on my feet, too, by then.

Go ahead, answer it, I told him. Keep your head.