A Shroud for Jesso (14 page)

“What George means,” said Ralph, “is we want the key. Snell’s dying words, if you know what I mean. Now you wonder how do we know so much? Simple. Kator wasn’t the only one after that info. To wit, Snell was going to jump off Kator’s wagon and sell elsewhere.”

“That’s us. Elsewhere,” said George. “But you know what happened. We missed the boat. So right now we’re trying to catch up is all.” George got up. “Wanna come and look at some money, Jesso?”

Jesso kept sitting. “You haven’t said a thing yet.”

“Money talks, Jesso.”

“What good’s it to you? Kator’s got the figures.”

“We don’t need ‘em. We got later ones.”

“Look, Jesso.” Ralph sounded serious now. “Let me tell you the whole thing. We got figures, Kator’s got figures. Together they’d give a much more reliable score for estimating bomb production than either of the lists alone. With your information in our hands, we can argue with Kator. We can get together, make a combine.”

“You’re giving me ideas,” Jesso said.

George made an exasperated swing with one arm, sighed. “Jesso, you talk like an ass. There are some deals too big for one man to handle. You’d be twisted out of shape.”

“I’ve been doing all right.”

“Have you got your dough?”

“No.”

“So don’t talk.”

Jesso thought about that.

“Jesso, there are details to this deal that you as one man, or me, or Ralph over there, couldn’t handle alone. You didn’t know, for instance, that your info isn’t any good after a couple of months, did you? You didn’t know the plants change models, that they produce in periods instead of at a steady rate—all things that you never heard of, that I only know by name, and that I mention just to impress you. Then there’s the problem of getting bids for the merchandise. You don’t know under what phony company transactions these deals are handled, how the money is moved without attracting attention.”

“I’m impressed. Come to the point.”

“The point is simple. Sell to our combine and your troubles are over.”

“How much?”

“Fifty thousand.”

“I can’t even hear you.”

“Cash, Jesso. Cash in small bills, right here on the train, and we can make it seventy-five. Whaddaya say?”

“I say crap.”

“I told you,” Ralph said.

George leaned over to Jesso and sounded tired. “Look, Jesso, you know how it is. We’re supposed to argue. We’re just hired to do a job. But we’re authorized to go to one hundred grand. That’s all we got, Jesso, honest.”

“Go back where you came from. Kator pays me more.”

“Have you got it?”

Jesso thought about that.

“You don’t know Kator very well, do you, Jesso?”

They waited while Jesso just sat and they gave him all the time he wanted.

“You got it here?”

“Right on this train.”

“Show me.”

Ralph sighed around his pipe and George looked relieved.

“Honest, Jesso, you won’t regret this. Grab your swag and get out of a field you know nothing about.” They walked down the corridor. “We know your rep and everything in New York and so forth, but this is different. Christ, you don’t even know any languages, I bet, except Brooklynese.”

“He don’t sound Brooklynese,” said Ralph.

“Ralph, your mouth. You’re gonna hiccup one day, and fall in. Look, Jesso, I’m just making a figure of speech. I’m trying to show you—“

“You know what you can show me, so stop bending my ear.”

They kept still, both of them, and Jesso followed George down the corridor. Ralph was behind him.

They had a compartment too. It was just like the one where he and Renette were staying, and it made things nice and familiar. Jesso watched George unlock the door and waved Ralph to step through. He himself went in last.

“I’ll lock this door,” he said, and made a noise with the slide. His other hand pressed one of the buttons that kept the bolt from locking.

“I told you he’d be suspicious,” Ralph said, but he was grinning this time. He pulled a suitcase out from under the seat. “Come here and count it.”

“Put it on the seat. I’ll count it from here.”

George spoke up and his voice was apologetic as hell. “Jesso, look. I know how you feel, and you got every right. But let’s play it even. We got all this dough and you got a gun. Your hand’s in your pocket again. So let me get my cannon, see, right here in my coat, and I keep it in my pocket and you keep yours there. You know how it is, Jesso, so don’t misunderstand. If we knew each—“

“I get it.” He made a noise in his pocket.

“So I’ll just get my—”

“Never mind. This is crazy enough as it is. Here, take mine, and keep it till I leave.” He tossed his gun over to George, who caught it, grinned, and dropped it into his pocket.

“No hard feelings, Jesso. You know how it is.”

“So open the suitcase.”

Ralph hefted the two-suiter onto the seat and clicked the locks open. He threw back the cover, lifted the underwear off, and there were the bundles.

They were tens, twenties, and a row of fifties, some dog-eared and held by a rubber band, some stiff and clean, still with the bank wrappers around them. It was a sight.

“Count them out on the seat,” Jesso said.

“In bills?”

“In bundles is good enough.”

Ralph did, and there was one hundred thousand. Jesso grinned and shook his head. “I never saw such a bunch,” he said. “Believe me, fellers, I never saw such a bunch.”

They grinned and nodded too. Ralph put the bills back in the suitcase.

“So whaddaya say, Jesso?” George folded his arms over his chest.

“My, my,” said Jesso. “Myomy”

Ralph made a laugh. “Guess I can close it, huh?” He closed it.

“You’ll take it, huh?” George was laughing.

“I guess I will,” laughed Jesso.

“So pick it up,” said Ralph, and they all laughed at each other.

When they stopped, it was almost as if on cue.

Jesso said, “Push it over here,” and his voice was different.

Ralph looked at George. He was refolding his arms, “You forgot to tell us your story, Jesso.”

“So I did.”

They waited.

“Push it over here.”

“Your story, Jesso.”

There was the silence again, except that they all heard the singing and clacking of the train. It hadn’t occurred to Jesso before, but this train made a constant clack on the tracks. American trains didn’t clack like that. They must join the rails differently.

“The story,” he said. “Do you know the story I told Kator? The wrong one?”

“No.”

“If I told you the same one, you’d never know.”

“Not until later. We’d find you and you’d end up dead.”

“I can see that.”

They heard the clacking again and the wind rushing by the window.

“The right story, then,” and he told them the one he had fed to Kator. “The upper left half and the lower right half of the two columns of figures give the production of the thing they make at Honeywell.”

And they did nothing. Ralph didn’t kick the suitcase over because he knew Jesso was lying. George kept his arms folded because to shoot Jesso would keep them from ever knowing. They couldn’t have figured any of this, except that Kator had told them.

“I was kidding, fellows.” Jesso looked at his shoe. He lifted his foot and rubbed the shoe against his pants leg. Then he looked at the shine he’d made. “You know how it is, fellows.” He laughed, looked at the shoe again. “If you’ll kick the suitcase over, like security, sort of—”

Ralph pushed it up to Jesso’s feet and George unfolded his arms.

“We understand, Jesso. I’ll even toss your gun over there.” He took it out, threw it on the seat.

“You understand,” said Jesso, and he looked apologetic. He held it on his face for fear he’d break up and laugh. He still looked that way when he told them, “The upper halves of both columns make up the figures you want. Honeywell.”

He bent down then, slowly, and picked up the suitcase. It wasn’t heavy. He still moved slowly when he straightened up and caught Ralph reaching over for the gun. When it came around, pointed, he couldn’t hold it any longer and burst out laughing. Then the gun went click and click and click. Jesso was still laughing when he threw the suitcase at Ralph, and even though it was light there was force behind it and Ralph stumbled back so that George had to catch him. The door was open and they heard Jesso laughing down the corridor.

But he didn’t keep it up. By the time he was racing through the next car there was only the fast clack of the wheels and his own breathing. You don’t know Kator much, George had said. He should know and he had been right. Kator had figured there’d be these two jovial fellows, countrymen, all ready with the pile of real live money. And that’s one thing Americans can’t resist, Kator must have figured. And then when he’d told them the right story they’d shoot. Kator had tried that one before and figured wrong, but he wasn’t going to be wrong about the part with the money.

There’s one thing about those German trains, they all have a catwalk along the side, so when George came clattering through the platform between the cars he didn’t see Jesso because Jesso hung outside the door. Then Ralph came by. They went the way Jesso had gone, down the long end of the train. Jesso got back in and walked to the stateroom where the dough was. He didn’t even run. The suitcase was there, and they had left his gun because without bullets there wasn’t much point to it. Jesso took the bullets out of his pocket and reloaded the cylinder. Before he picked up the suitcase he thought about leaving a note, something like “You know how it is. The right combination is tick-tack-toe diagonally across the list, honest,” but then he let it go because it came to him where they’d be headed first. He went out into the corridor.

He held the revolver in one hand and the valise in the other, and kicked the door to his stateroom open.

“Drop it,” Jesso said, and they did.

“Honest—” George said, but he saw Jesso didn’t look conversational.

“I got a proposition.” Ralph’s voice was squeaky.

“Shut up. You’ll wake up the girl.”

Renette hadn’t even opened an eye. She’d got to be a heavy sleeper. They all turned to look at her in the bed and she looked sexy as hell.

“Turn around.”

They did.

“To the other wall, you bastards.”

They turned.

“Now lean.”

They knew what he meant, and they leaned against the wall with their hands out. Jesso kicked the door shut, put the case down, and started to wake Renette. It took a while. She didn’t ask any questions because she was still half asleep, but then her clothes weren’t handy.

“George,” Jesso said.

George started to turn.

“Face front, you sonofabitch, or you’ve taken your last look.”

George looked front.

“Those clothes on the seat under you. Throw ‘em back here.”

George reached down and tossed the dress back. Renette held the dress and looked at Jesso.

“The other stuff first, damn it. What’s the matter with you!”

George threw the other stuff and Renette got dressed. Then she went to the bathroom and combed her hair. She did it as if she had all the time in the world, as if there were nothing on her mind but combing her hair. There wasn’t.

The three men waited. After a while Ralph started to moan because of his arms and George hissed something at him. But Ralph kept moaning.

When Renette came back, Jesso told her to keep out of line of his gun. She turned and went back to the mirror to put on some lipstick. Then she came back.

“Ralph.”

Ralph didn’t answer, but he stopped making his noise for a moment.

“You can turn around and sit. The lady’s presentable.”

Ralph did and sighed deeply. Then Jesso told George to do the same.

“Ever hop trains, you two?”

They shook their heads.

“You’ll learn.”

“God, Jesso, this thing’s going ninety.”

“Next curve you jump.”

They came to the next one and the train never slowed down.

“Open the window.”

They sat with the icy blast coming in and listened to the black roar outside. Then came the grade, with the clacking getting slower all the time.

“Next turn you jump. George, on your feet.”

George stood by the window and waited.

It had got cold in the compartment and Renette shivered. Jesso sent her to the bathroom, where her coat hung on a hook.

“Out, George.”

George climbed through the window, held on, found the catwalk with his feet.

“You’re next, Ralph.”

When they both were outside, Jesso stood by the window holding the gun on them. At the next curve, on top of the grade, they jumped.

The train took half an hour to the first stop on the run. Jesso carried the suitcases. They got off and headed for the round booth that said “Information” in German, English, and French. It was the middle of the night but somebody was ahead of them. They waited and then Renette looked up at Jesso. She had to blink her eyes in the light.

“Where are the other two?” she said, but Jesso figured he’d explain that one later.

Jesso went to the ticket window and pronounced the name of the town he wanted. The man at the information desk had told them the name; the earliest train went there. Renette stood by the train gate and waited. She was awake now. Jesso had told her what had happened and she had said only, “I’ll go with you.” Even if she had said no she knew he would have taken her.

They took a train with short, high cars, and once they were inside they saw that the whole car was one compartment. They rode and every few miles they stopped. Then a gray light started to come, showing fields outside and long stretches of wood. A conductor came through turning off the gas lights in the ceiling.

After a while a woman came in carrying two crates with live hens. She put them on the floor. A farmer wearing a blue shirt that hung down to his hips sat in the seat next to them. He smelled of animals and held a sack of seed grain between his knees. The train made a slow clatter, stopped for a while, clattered again.