A Gambling Man

Chapter 8

“So how much are you asking for it?” Archer said as they spun around a tight curve in the road before reaching a long straightaway.

Howells scratched his cheek and then smoothed down both ends of his white mustache. “Like I said, there’s only five known One Sixty-Fives around. And a fellow in Beverly Hills, California, just bought one for $12,000.”

“Christ Almighty,” yelled Callahan.

In her agitation she hit Archer’s arm, and he nearly drove the car off the road and into some cacti. Archer quickly righted the vehicle and slowed. He looked down at his hands holding the wheel of a $12,000 car. That amount of money was unimaginable to someone like him. It was far more than a house cost. To his mind, it was far more than anything should cost.

“I don’t have $12,000, Bobby H. And I don’t know anyone who does besides Rockefeller, and I don’t know him.”

“Well, I didn’t say that’s what I was asking for it. I was just conveying some information to lend you some perspective.”

“Well, you’d have to lend me the twelve grand too.”

“You said your gambling debts were $1,850,” Callahan reminded him.

“Well, yes, but I can’t let it go for just that. I’m many things, but an idiot is not one of them.”

“Then I’m not your man.”

“Now hold on, Archer, I’m in a bit of a dilemma, obviously, so let’s just have a discussion on what might be possible.”

“Well, $12,000 will never be possible.”

Callahan said, “Let’s hear the man out.”

“Okay, but that’s going to have to wait,” said Archer as he glanced in the mirror.

“Why?” asked Callahan.

“Because we have company and they’re coming fast.”

Both Howells and Callahan shot looks behind them to see a pair of headlights coming with alarming velocity toward them.

“Hold on to whatever you need to,” said Archer calmly. Then he asked for everything the Delahaye had to give by pushing the pedal all the way to the floor. And the loveliest car in the world responded with the heart of a champion.

They shot far ahead of the chase vehicle, which Archer had seen in the moonlight was a big-butted, two-tone Buick with a long hood and whitewall tires. It wasn’t the Buick that had been parked in front of Lester’s place, so Archer doubted it was the giant back there. The car receded so fast into the darkness that for a moment Archer imagined he might be on a plane about to take off.

Yet no car or plane could outrun a bullet.

Archer cut the wheel to the right and then the left as shots flew past them.

Callahan shrieked and fell sideways onto Archer’s lap as Howells dove to the floorboard.

Archer draped one hand over the doorframe and used that as a fulcrum to keep himself rigidly in place as he continued to steer the car in evasive maneuvers. The Delahaye executed every one of these movements with surprising agility for such a heavy car.

“Aren’t you scared?” said Callahan, lifting her head and looking up at him as he nimbly whipped the car through a hail of bullets.

“Sure I am. But I got used to people shooting at me in the war, Liberty,” he said. “And if you get so scared you can’t do something about it, then you probably deserve to die.”

A bullet glanced off the metal post supporting the windscreen, dinging it.

“Son of a bitch!” screamed Howells, rising up and looking back at the Buick. “They put a mark on this car. That’s... that’s like wiping varnish over the Mona Lisa. It’s... it’s blasphemy is what it is.”

“If you say so,” replied Archer. “And while it rides nice, it’s a little heavy in the turns, Bobby H. You might want to check the front alignment.”

“That’s crap, Archer,” roared Howells. “You’re a Philistine who doesn’t know how to dance with a queen.”

Archer cut the wheel to the right, slid into a turn, and said when they came back out on the straightaway, “So, really, how much do you want for this thing?”

“You want to negotiate now!” screamed Callahan as the Buick appeared behind them and commenced firing again.

“Well, unless Bobby H has enemies other than the ones he owes the gambling debts to, then I’m thinking that’s them back there. That means they know he has the car now. So how much?”

Howells said sharply, “I can see you’re looking to exploit my current situation with your newfound leverage.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“What’d you say you could afford again?”

“I didn’t. But if you were to ask I’d say the amount of your debt, eighteen fifty.”

“I told you I couldn’t take anything close to that.”

“But that would pay off the boys back there,” pointed out Callahan, who had now risen and sat with her head below the seat top, her long legs bent, her shoes off, and her feet pressed against the dashboard. This position had allowed her dress to float all the way up to the very tops of her stockinged thighs. And under any other conditions Archer would have been mesmerized by the view. But not now.

“I need to do better than that,” said Howells, shaking his head. “As I intimated earlier, I’m probably going to be back in debt soon. I need a cushion to allow for that. You can see that, surely.”

“And you also said you wanted to have a discussion on what might be possible,” noted Archer. “Only I haven’t seen that discussion yet and I’m thinking time is running short, unless the Delahaye has wings.”

Before Howells could respond, Archer downshifted, slammed into a tight turn, and came out high on the curve, then upshifted and laid the pedal to the floor. The Delahaye wound up like a rocket. The landscape was going by so fast that everything was a blur. If another car was up ahead, they were all dead.

“Lester was wrong,” said Archer.

“How so?” asked Howells.

In answer Archer pointed to the speed gauge on the red metal dashboard. “We’re doing a hundred and twenty-one.”

Callahan closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross.

“So about those discussions?” prompted Archer.

Howells took a look behind him, swallowed nervously, clutched the edge of the windscreen tightly, and said, “I can take the eighteen fifty as a start, but there’s got to be more down the road.”

“How exactly does that work?” asked Archer.

“When you get to where you’re going, and get yourself all set up, you send me a hundred dollars a month.”

Archer shook his head. “That’s steep. I might not even make that much.”

“Well, I’m a betting man, Archer, as you know, and I’m betting on you to do just fine out there in California.”

“But for how long do I make the monthly payments?”

“Oh, let’s say six years, and I like you so I’m not even going to charge you interest over that time.”

“Well, I’m starting to like you, too, so let’s say one year and I’ll allow you to continue not charging me interest.”

Howells said, “Three years, Archer. It’s still quite a steal for you. You’ll be driving this car as an old man.”

“Two years for a total of $4,250, and if I can pay it all off early, I will. You have my word.”

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” screamed Callahan as more bullets whizzed by them.

“Okay, that’s a deal,” said Howells.

Archer eyed the mirror. “Great. Liberty, take your gun out of your purse.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to make it useful out here.” There was a sense of urgency in his voice that compelled Callahan to do just as he asked.

She held out the Smith & Wesson. “Now what? Do you want me to start shooting?”

“No. I need you to take the wheel.”

“What! How?”

“Put your hands on the wheel. I’ll slide under you and you go over me. I’ll keep my foot on the gas as long as I can. Soon as you’re in place, you mash it to the floor.”

“Archer, I don’t think I can do this.”

“I wouldn’t be asking unless I knew you could. And Bobby H can’t drive.”

“Oh, Lord help me.”

“The Lord helps those who help themselves,” interjected Howells in a knowing manner.

“Oh shut up, you old fool. You got us into this. And I doubt very seriously you of all people know anything about the Lord.”

Archer said, “Go up. Now.”

Callahan put her hands on the wheel, took a deep breath, then arched her back and slid to the right while Archer sunk low and edged to the left. A moment later Archer dropped into the middle of the seat and she into the driver’s. “Floor it,” he called out as he gripped the .38, turned around in the seat so he was facing backward, and lined up his shot through the revolver’s iron sights.

Archer turned to Callahan. “On the count of three start to ease off the gas until you get it down to around sixty.”

“But you said—”

“Just do it, Liberty!”

She gave him a sulky look and waited.

“One... two... three.”

The Delahaye slowed to a hundred and then eighty, and then stuck at sixty as Callahan eyed the speed gauge.

“We’re there,” she said.

The Buick was now catching up fast.

Archer aimed but didn’t fire.

Wait for it, wait for it...

He placed two quick shots into the grill and followed those with one each in the front tires. When he pulled the trigger again, the hammer banged empty. He was out of bullets. But he didn’t need any more.

Steam immediately started pouring out of the Buick’s radiator, covering the windshield in a thick fog. The blown-out front tires wobbled madly, and finally rubber separated from the metal rims, and the treads went spinning off into the darkness.

The Buick ended up crashed in a ditch while the Delahaye roared triumphantly on.

“Nice shooting there, Archer,” complimented Howells.

Archer sat forward in his seat and looked at Callahan. “You okay to drive?”

“Yes. But I’m sure as hell not going as fast as you did.”

“Okay, the three of us are staying together until the government building opens and we can get the title to the car transferred all official.”

“I got a room,” said Bobby H.

“And I’m sure those boys back there know it, too,” replied Archer. “So that’s out.”

“We can stay at my place,” said Callahan, drawing surprised looks from both men. “Well, it’s got two rooms. One of you can sleep on the couch, the other the floor. I’ll be in the bedroom.”

Howells looked at Archer with a pained expression. “I got me a real bad back, son. Real bad.”

“Of course you do,” said Archer as the Delahaye roared on.