Read South of Heaven Online

Authors: Jim Thompson

South of Heaven (13 page)

H
igby had been driving hard, and the line had been moving right along, and the job was now almost an hour’s ride from camp. Going in that night, the guy riding next to me on the flatbed remarked that we’d have to be moving camp soon, jumping it south maybe twenty-five or thirty miles, because the ride was taking too much time. I nodded without speaking, trying to save my cracked and blistered lips as much as possible.

I could hardly bear soap and water for washing that night and I sort of groaned with every bite of the hot chow. In the long run, of course, stretching the burned skin was good for it. Or a lot better, anyway, than letting it tighten on you like a blistered mask. It helped it, if you could stand it, and after dinner I smeared it good with butter, and that helped, too.

The cook watched me sympathetically, cursing the “goddam capitalists.” He said hell was too cold for such people, and, come the revolution, they’d all get their butts warmed with a cutting torch so they’d know how it felt to cook a man alive. Then he threw a thirty-pound ham in the garbage and gave me a four-ounce bottle of jake (Jamaica ginger) to ease me through the night.

The old crumb boss in my tent hovered around me for a long time, wanting to do things for me and letting me know he was sorry. Finally, I pretended to go to sleep, and he went to his own bunk and sacked in. When everyone else had done the same and the camp was dark, I slipped out the back of the tent and headed for town.

I’d never felt less like walking five miles in my life. But there was no phone short of town, and I had to phone Sheriff Darrow. I’d have walked five thousand miles to help Carol, and this was the only way I could do it.

I knew she couldn’t have been mixed up in anything before. She just wasn’t old enough. She was only taking part in the payroll robbery because she was forced to, but that wouldn’t cut any ice with the law. If you commit a crime you’re a criminal and you can’t clear yourself by claiming that you were forced to commit it. So the robbery had to be stopped before it started, and Darrow was the only one who could do it.

There was a booth phone next to the garage, and I called him from there. He wasn’t at his office, late as it was, but I managed to reach him at home. In the background, I could hear a baby crying faintly and a few words of a woman’s voice complaining about people who were always late for dinner. I didn’t hear very much of it, because there was a sound like a door being closed, then an amused chuckle from him as he told me to go ahead.

I started talking. After a minute or so he broke in on me.

“Those fellows are teasing you, Burwell. It may be that they don’t want you hanging around their sister, or their foster sister, I should say. But the rest is nonsense.”

“Nonsense!”
I said. “They’ve already killed two people and they threaten to kill me, an’.…”

“They haven’t killed anyone. Both deaths were accidents.”

“The heck they were! You…you just don’t know ’em, sheriff! You don’t know.…”

“Yes, I do, Burwell,” he said quietly. “I know everything there is to know about those men. Information is a big part of my job, and I’m very good at getting it. But in their case I didn’t have to. They came in and identified themselves the moment they entered my county.”

“B-but.…” I stared into the phone wordlessly. “But, dammit.…”

“They’re the Long brothers.
The
Long brothers, understand? I’ll admit they probably bought their pardons; they’ve done it before. But they claim to be going straight now and they certainly act like they mean to. I think they’ve proved that by coming in to see me in the beginning and coming forward later to clear you.”

“You do, huh?” I laughed shakily. “The worst killers and crooks in Texas, and you think…!” I choked up for a moment, unable to go on. “Don’t you see, sheriff? They knew you’d find out who they were, anyway, so they played smart and beat you to the punch. And they didn’t clear me until they had to. Carol found out what.…”

He sighed, cutting in on me again. “You told me, Burwell. You told me. I hold no brief for the Longs—Longie, that’s Longden, or Bigger or Doss. I’ve got no use for any of ’em. I don’t like what they’re letting a potentially nice girl make of herself, but they’re not wanted anywhere now, and I’m not running a Sunday school. So unless.…”

“What about that car?” I said. “Why, sheriff, if you’d just…!”

“What about it? This is a bad part of the world to have a breakdown in. A smart person keeps his car in first-class condition.”

“But it’s
more
than that! It’s a, uh, well, it’s a get-away car if I’ve ever seen one!”

“Well, now, of course, that’s different! How many have you seen, Burwell?”

He waited; laughed teasingly. I said a few things that weren’t very nice, and he sobered and said he was sorry.

“You’ve had a bad time, Burwell. When a man goes to the trouble that you have to do the right thing, he deserves something better than to be laughed at. I was afraid there’d be trouble if you went back there. The Longs are notorious for dead-pan kidding. Even if they didn’t indulge in it there was always the chance you’d find out who they were, and get the wind up because of the girl. Now, if you’ll take my advice.…”

“Wait!” I said. “Wait a minute, sheriff! I just remembered something else.”

“Did you?” He stifled a yawn. “Well?”

“Higby. He’s in on the robbery. Why, I just dropped a little hint that there was something screwy about payday, and.…”

“Burwell!”
His voice was suddenly curt. “Have you been popping off any around camp about this?”

“Of course not,” I said. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

“Because you seem to be about as brainless as a man can get! Higby has a pipeline to build within a certain amount of time. There are enormous penalties to pay for every day he runs over that time, and a whopping bonus for every day he’s under. He had to do the job and he has to do it without a hitch, and what kind of men does he have to do it with?”

“Now, look,” I said. “I.…”

“He has to do it with scum, Burwell! That’s what they are, mostly. Hoboes, bums, drunks and jailbirds—the scum of the oil fields. Men who make a career out of finding reasons for
not
working. Now just what do you think would happen if some lovesick, loudmouth kid hinted that something might happen to their pay? Well? My guess is that he wouldn’t have enough men left to build a barn.”

“But I didn’t say that much to Higby! I didn’t hint that.…”

“Practically anything you said would have given him a jolt. You see, he knows who the Longs are. They were hired on at my suggestion.”

“H-he
knows?
” I said. “You suggested it? Why…why, that’s crazy!”

Darrow sighed that if I was halfway as smart as I thought I was I’d see it differently. The Longs had no honest skill, and the pipeline was the county’s major employer of unskilled labor. By seeing that they were hired on, they could not only be kept track of—their whereabouts known at all times—but helped to earn a living instead of stealing it.

“Both the pipeline company and I could rest more comfortably by having them there. What we didn’t count on was you and that girl falling for each other, which naturally was one hell of a big hazard. Because if she ever got confidential with you, a romantic knothead with all his brains in his crotch.…”

My face was burning, and not just from the dope either. I said, all right, maybe I was a knothead. But he could do one thing at least without upsetting anyone’s applecart.

“Just move in and take Carol away from there, sheriff. If you’ll do that.…”

“I won’t. I’m not in the business of rousting whores. If I were, I couldn’t legally do anything until she actually started turning tricks.”

He made sounds of hanging up. I yelled that I’d bet he was in on the robbery himself, and if he wouldn’t do his job I’d call someone who would.

He snapped that what I’d do was go back to camp and keep my mouth shut, and if I didn’t do it he’d break one of his own rules and float me out of the county.

“One more thing, Burwell. You tell the Longs for me that I’m pretty good at joking myself, and I’ll give ’em a sample of it if there’s any more talk about killing or robberies!”

There was a sharp
click
as he broke the connection.

I sorted through my change, found enough to call the Matacora county attorney. He was expecting it, having just received a call from Darrow.

“Burwell, huh?” he grunted. “What you been drinking, boy? Speak up, dammit! A man ought to lay off the stuff if he can’t handle it.”

“I’m not drunk!” I said. “I haven’t had a damn thing! All I.…”

“Well, drink something, then. Get your mind off of gals for a while. That’s your trouble, Burwell. Thinkin’ about gals instead of drinkin’. Worst thing in the world for a man.”

“Please,” I begged. “If you’ll just listen to me, sir.…”

“No time, boy. No time. Now sober up and you’ll feel a hell of a lot better in the morning.”

He hung up.

So did I. Baffled, frustrated, confused, hardly knowing whether to bawl or laugh.

I came out of the booth and stood there in the night for a moment, letting the cooling wind wash over my face.

Darrow had had an answer for everything: about Higby, the Longs, Carol—everything. And all his answers were logical. What he’d said made a hell of a lot more sense than what I’d said. It didn’t actually, but it seemed to.

How could anyone believe that Longden hadn’t been kidding? That he wasn’t just having some fun with a green kid? How could anyone believe that he’d tell me he was going to commit a robbery if he really intended to do it?

The fact was, of course, that he’d told me because he’d had to.

What I’d gotten out of Carol had pointed me toward the truth. Higby’s reaction to my payday hint had just about wrapped it up. All I needed was to think on it a little and I’d be running to the sheriff. So Longden had done the only thing he could do. And I’d walked right into the trap.

Darrow was smart. If I’d only told him what I suspected and why, the odds were that he would have seen things as I did, and the Longs would have been jailed and Carol would have been free. But instead of just telling him what I’d
suspected,
I’d told him what Longden had told me, and when Darrow had laughed and teased me about it.…

Of course, he’d laughed! Who wouldn’t? I should have laughed with him, agreed that it did sound crazy while pointing out just how smart that craziness was. If I’d only done that, behaving reasonably and sensibly instead of losing my temper and shouting and calling him a crook—but I hadn’t done that.

I’d acted like a fool. I’d acted like one, and he’d treated me like one.

I winced, remembering; realizing that I’d washed myself up with the only people who could have helped. I could never turn to them again, no matter what happened, no matter what the Longs did. I’d lost Carol for all time, and it was my own damned fault. I felt so low-down miserable and mad at myself that I groaned out loud.

“Dammit! Dammit to hell, anyway! How stupid can a guy get?”

“Now, don’t you feel bad about it, Tommy boy.” Longden ambled out of the shadows surrounding the booth. “C’mon and I’ll give you a lift back to camp.”

T
he car, Carol’s housecar, was parked behind one of the town’s abandoned buildings. Longden drove cross-lots until he was out of town and had picked up the rutted trail into camp. He kept the lights off, the motor merely purring as it raced. We slid through the night like phantoms, the black car almost invisible, virtually silent.

“A real good wagon, ain’t she, Tommy, boy?” Longden chuckled proudly. “What do you figure she cost us, huh? Just make a guess.”

“I don’t give a damn,” I said. “Where’s Carol?”

“Why, she’s just fine, Tommy, boy. Got some fellas keepin’ an eye on her while I’m out dry-runnin’. Don’t you ever worry about Carol, Tommy. There ain’t no time that we ain’t got someone lookin’ out for her.”

“How?” I said. “By giving her black eyes? Slapping her around?”

“Aw, naw. O’ course not. That ain’t hardly ever been necessary. It’s a lot easier an’ nicer just to keep her broke and have her watched. And we don’t always have to do the watchin’; not as long as she knows that someone just
might
be doin’ it.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “You’re real smart, you are.”

It wasn’t any compliment the way I meant it, but it was the truth. When it came to thinking up new angles in crime, the Longs—particularly, Longie—were in a class by themselves. The setup of the gang itself was unlike that of any other gang.

Back in the beginning, before they’d had a gang, the Longs had gotten themselves so well-known that it was just about impossible for them to conceal their identity. So they no longer made much of an effort to. Instead, they made sure that no member of the gang was ever recognized or caught.

Most gang bosses stayed safely in the background, sometimes taking no part in a job except for the planning. But the Longs were out in front every step of the way, keeping their gang members in the background. And no one ever knew how many were in the gang, because it wasn’t always apparent who
was
in it.

A member of the gang might be in the place being robbed disguised as a workman. Or he might turn out to be a “customer” or a passerby. The Longs only pulled big jobs, ones upward of fifty thousand dollars. It would always be a bank job or the payroll of a big factory, or something of the kind. A place with a lot of people around. One of those people, almost any one of ’em, might belong to the gang. And he’d have you dead at the first wrong move you made.

It had been a hell of a long time since anyone had made a move against the gang during a holdup. For all anyone knew, they might have given up their hidden-man technique, but no one took the only way of finding out. You don’t have to convince people very often when you do it by killing.

The Long brothers had gone to prison several times. They could afford to; just as quickly as they were in and out. But the gang remained on the outside, every man of them. Tremendously loyal to the brothers, raising huge sums of money for them; functioning like a well-oiled machine through their years of working together.

And now, at last, the Longs had blundered. It wouldn’t help Carol, but they had made one heck of a mistake in tackling the robbery of the pipeline payroll.

“Yeah, Tommy, boy?” The car was slowing, coming to a stop. “Yeah?” Longden turned in the seat and grinned at me. “Got somethin’ troubling you?”

“You’re going to have something troubling
you,
” I said. “You and everyone in your gang is.”

“Gang? What makes you think we got a gang, Tommy?”

“Because I’m not stupid. There’s six hundred men in camp—
six hundred!
And they’re not the sort to sit and twiddle their thumbs while someone walks off with their pay. It’ll take a dozen armed men to handle ’em, and they won’t have any gravy train doing it!”

“Well, now, gee whiz, by ding!” he drawled. “You seen right through me, Tommy, boy. But what about this trouble we’re supposed to get into? Where’s that supposed to come in?”

I said the trouble was going to be in the getaway, and he raised his brows, putting on as though he was puzzled. He said he’d thought they had everything planned pretty perfect, but maybe he’d better run through it from the beginning.

“We got this car, now, a car that can just about stand up on its hind legs and turn handsprings. And we got me drivin’ it, comes getaway time. And you see how I drive, Tommy, boy; how I learn the area so well around a job that I can drive it in the dark with the lights off. I always do that, y’know, Tommy. I do it even when I don’t have to, because a fella just never knows when havin’ to is. He might have to, without knowin’ that he does, y’know? But mainly it’s a test. It’s a way of making sure that I’ve got the whole area laid out in my mind, every little twist and turn and bump. The
only
way. If I can drive it in the dark.…”

“I get your point,” I said. “Go on.”

“Well, then, there’s Carol. We kept her out of things her whole life, sent her away to school and all an’ treated her fine, just savin’ her for something special like this. So no one has ever big-eyed her. No one knows that she ain’t just what she appears to be, a hustler makin’ a pipeline. She’s been there all along, and now everyone’s used to her. An’ no one ever figures that she’s totin’ guns and ammunition, an’.…”

“Go on,” I said. “Get to something I don’t know. You pull the robbery, and then what?”

“Why, we just take off, that’s what. Just like we always do.”

“But there’s a big difference this time. This time you’ll all be exposed. The law will be looking for all of you, instead of just you and your brothers. When you’re caught, there’ll be no one on the outside to work for you and raise money.”

He nodded solemnly. Too solemnly to mean it. “Yeah, Tommy. But you said we’d have trouble gettin’ away.”

“That’s the trouble. In
having
to get away. All of you, I mean. You’ll all have to leave the country or get caught.”

“So what’s the problem? This here car’ll carry a dozen men as easy as apples, an’ we’re sittin’ right on the doorstep of Mexico.”

He nodded again, eyes twinkling. Looking as solemn as all get-out. I said he knew damned well what I meant, so why pretend that he didn’t?

“Now, Tommy, boy,” he drawled. “Now, that ain’t nice, Tommy. Here you are practically a member of the family and you’ve sort of taken on the job of reportin’ us to the sheriff an’.…Why would I joke a fine, upstanding, young fella like you?”

“Forget it. To hell with you,” I said.

“Tell you what I’ll do, Tommy. You square me away on what this problem is, an’ I’ll let you see Carol. You can be alone with her for, oh, three or four hours. Okay?”

“Knock it off,” I said. “You wouldn’t dare let me go near her. If she knew I was still here and intended to stay, you wouldn’t be able to kill me like you’ve threatened. And that threat is the only hold you have over us.”

He said it made him feel plumb bad to hear me talk that way. Danged if it didn’t sound just like I didn’t trust him or somethin’.

“C’mon an’ tell me, Tommy, boy,” he wheedled. “What have you got to lose, anyway? I figure you got somethin’ plenty important to say, an’ I’m willing to pay the price to hear it!”

“Well.…” I hesitated, studying him. Certain that he was lying but hoping that he wasn’t. Wanting to see Carol so bad that I would have believed anything.

“I’m tellin’ the God’s truth, Tommy.” He held up a hand as though swearing. “You just show me where the problem is, an’ I’ll let you see Carol.”

I said, yeah, sure he would. Maybe he’d let me
start
to see her, but I’d get killed on the way. He pointed out casually that he’d hardly go through all that trouble when he could kill me right then and there if he wanted to.

“Not that I do want to, Tommy, boy. I would if I had to, but it ain’t somethin’ I’m anxious for. The sheriff knows you’re stickin’ here, no matter what, so if he should come lookin’ for you.…” He spread his hands expressively. “Now c’mon an’ tell me, boy. You do me a favor, an’ I’ll do you one.”

I told him what the problem was.

He waited, watching me interestedly. “Yeah, Tommy?”

“What do you mean, yeah?” I said. “That’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“What I just told you, dammit!”

“Yeah? Maybe you better spell it out for me.”

“But…! All right,” I said. “It’s a big payroll. One heck of a pile of money. But it isn’t much when it has to be your last job. It’s not nearly enough for a dozen men who have to spend the rest of their lives in a foreign country.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course, it isn’t. You’d need twice that much, anyway!”

“Yeah?”

“To hell with you!” I said. “I’ve told you about umpteen times already, and you just sit there saying, yeah! You’re not deaf, are you? Well? What’s the matter with you, anyway?”

“Just lonesome, Tommy. Just dyin’ for amusin’ company. Y’ know, this is a plumb hard life I lead, boy. Workin’ day and night, you might say, doin’ the same thing over and over. So when a real amusin’ fella like you comes along.…What’s the matter, Tommy? You ain’t sore at me just because I can’t see where the problem is?”

I gritted my teeth. I said, all right, I’d go through it one more time.

“You Longs and your men have to live in Mexico the rest of your lives. You can’t operate down there and you can’t come back here. All right then. The men will be paid for two weeks’ work, plus overtime. Some draw very big pay, some middling, some—most of ’em—bottom scale. Averaging them all up, it figures out to, well.…”

“Call it a little better than a hundred a piece, Tommy. Maybe sixty-five, seventy thousand for the lot. So what’s the problem?”

“The problem,” I said slowly, like I was talking to a four-year-old kid. “The problem is that it’s not enough money. You need a minimum of twice that much! Now, do you finally understand that? Have you finally got it through your thick skull?”

“We-el.…” He scratched his head. “Well, I understand that part, Tommy. I can see that, all right. But there’s one leetle thing I don’t understand.”

“What’s that?” I said. “What don’t you understand?”

“What the problem is.…”

…He was still whooping with laughter as I slammed out of the car and started walking toward camp.

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