While she was carefully folding her new clothes into the suitcase, Johnny looked out of the window at the blue sky and the white clouds. His fingers went to his shirt, then dropped away.
He saw the little plop of water as the medal had hit the lake. He knew he could be walking into a trap. Sammy might be betraying him. He knew that, but what else was there to live for? If he didn't try to get the money, sooner or later, they would find him. So he had to try. He just might be lucky. He just might have the boat for a few months, but this he was sure of . . . they would never take him alive. He looked over at Freda as she shut the lid of the suitcase. She and he, he decided, must share this destiny. They could have luck. Again he thought of the boat. He thought of the medal. That was superstition. There was still luck left.
In less than four hours, he would know if luck meant anything.
The hours crawled by. The lights over the bus station were on. The crowds were thinning out. The big clock above the bus station read 23.00.
"I've got to take a pee," Toni said. "My back teeth are floating."
"Hurry it up!" Andy snapped and eased his aching muscles.
Toni put down the target rifle and went fast to Massino's toilet.
As he laid down the rifle, Johnny drove into the parking lot of the bus station.
"Here we are baby," he said, his heart thumping. "You take over. Now listen, if anything bad happens, drive away fast. You understand? Don't wait . . . just go." He took from his hip pocket the last of Sammy's money and dropped the bills in her lap. "It'll be all right, but I want to be sure. Go back to the Welcome hotel. You understand?"
Freda shivered.
"Yes . . . It will be all right, Johnny?"
He put his hand on hers.
"Don't be scared. I'll get the money and come right back. You take off as soon as I'm in. Head up street. It's easy. At the traffic lights you turn left. Don't drive too fast."
"Oh, Johnny!"
He pulled her to him and kissed her.
"It's going to work out."
"I love you."
"Those are the best words. I love you too," then he walked into the bright lights and towards the luggage lockers.
Andy spotted him. He wasn't fooled by his shaven head. He recognized Johnny's walk, his square shoulders, his short, thick-set body.
"Toni!!"
Freda shifted across the seat and under the steering wheel. She stared through the dusty windshield, seeing Johnny disappear into the station. She sensed he and she were in danger. Her mind raced. Could she live on a boat? She hated the sea. Maybe once they had all this money, she could persuade him to give up this boat idea. Her dream was a luxury villa somewhere in the sun and to meet interesting people. With all that money, people would converge on them. There would be a swimming pool, a Cadillac and servants. Once a year they would go to Paris where she would buy clothes. That would be life! A boat! Who the hell but Johnny wanted a boat!
Her fingers gripped the steering wheel.
There was time . . . first the money. If he really loved her she could talk him out of this stupid idea of buying a boat.
Johnny reached the locker. He paused, looking right and left. The locker aisle was deserted. A voice boomed over the tannoy system: "Last bus for Miami. No. 15." He sank the key into the lock, opened the door and dragged out the two heavy bags.
As he dumped them on the floor, his mind moved triumphantly to his dream: A forty-five-footer with shining brass work and he at the helm, steering out to sea with the spray against his face and the sun beating down on him. And in this image which flooded his mind, Freda took no part. It was he and the forty-five- footer and the rise and fall of the deck.
He grabbed up the bags and started back across the station towards where be had parked the car. He was still moving fast, within a few yards of the car, seeing Freda at the wheel, when his life exploded into darkness.
Freda saw him coming and she caught her breath in a gasp of relief. Then she saw a tiny red spot appear in his shaven head, the bags drop from his hands and his short, thick-set body fold to the ground.
She sat there petrified, watching a thin stream of blood flowing from Johnny's head. She heard a woman screaming. Then she saw three men come fast out of the shadows, snatch up the bags and disappear.
She pushed the gear lever to 'Drive' and moved the car out of the parking lot.
Dry retching sobs shook her as she drove out of town.
Sammy prowled around his tiny room. He kept looking at his cheap alarm clock on the bedside table. The time was 01.30. Mr. Johnny had said he would bring six thousand dollars to him by midnight. Cloe had telephoned. She had said that she would give him until tomorrow morning and then she would ask Jacko to take care of her. Sammy said for her not to worry. He would have the money for her and she could fix an appointment with her doctor any time tomorrow.
Again he looked at the clock.
Mr. Johnny had promised. What was happening?
Then he heard footsteps coming up the stairs and he relaxed, relieved and now happy. Here was Mr. Johnny with the money! How could he have doubted him? When Mr. Johnny made a promise . . . it was a promise!
A knock came on the door.
Six thousand dollars! He would take Cloe south after her operation. She had always wanted to see Miami. His goddamn brother would now be out of trouble! His mother would be happy!
Sammy danced across the room to open the door.
The fat, elderly man smiled at her. He was well dressed with dyed black hair and shiny white false teeth.
"Piss off," Freda said. "Try someone else."
The fat man grimaced, then walked down the long street to where other girls were waiting.
Freda leaned against the wall, trying to rest her aching feet. It was now two months since Johnny had died. The money he had given her had run out. She knew she had been extravagant, but she had to have some decent clothes. Nov she was back on the game but Brunswick wasn't profitable. It was a town full of kinky, elderly men and she had promised herself she would never pander to perverts. But, she told herself, she would now have to save enough money to go either south where the men would appreciate her talents and looks or go north and get into the call girl racket again.
As she leaned against the wall she thought of Johnny: a sweet guy. She could have married him. He and his dream boat! Well, everyone had to have their dreams. All that money . . . so near . . . so far!
It began to rain. The street now was deserted. The other girls had called it a night. She opened her shabby purse and checked her money . . . thirteen dollars.
Well, money was money. She snapped her purse shut and started down the long street towards the tiny room she now called her home.
Toni Capello, who had been watching her for the past half hour, moved after her. His hand slid into his coat pocket and his fingers closed around the bottle of acid.
It was while Freda was undressing that she heard a knock on her door.
Wearily, she pulled on a wrap.
"Who's there?" she called.
The knock sounded again.
Without thinking, she crossed the room and opened the door.
The End