A Shroud for Jesso

Chapter Twenty-one

He snapped around like a spring and would have had the gun out if the couple hadn’t come through the door and bumped his arm.

“Jackie, your left,” and then he saw Murph. He ambled toward the door, past Jesso, and while he passed he said without moving his mouth, “There’s a nest of ‘em inside. Blow fast.”

Jesso was off. He sprinted to the convertible down by the curve. Lynn had the door open and he almost jumped into her lap.

“Hold on,” he said, and the car tore off

He almost went crazy at the Cross Boulevard intersection, but then he was twisting the car through the clover leaf and along the freeway that went across Jamaica Bay.

“Darling, are they chasing us?”

“Shut up a minute.”

He looked back, but all the cars looked alike. He was cursing under his breath till the lit highway stopped swimming and then he felt better. He was at the toll gate before he knew it and Lynn was ready with the money. Good, smart Lynn. And when he twisted down the ramp to Channel Drive, going out the length of Long Island he felt for a second the way he and Lynn had felt a long time ago. But then only Lynn felt that way any more.

“Jackie? Can I talk now?”

“Sorry about this thing, Lynn.”

“I’m glad I helped you, Jackie.”

“Yeah. It’s not over yet.”

“Bad, Jackie?”

“No. Just business.”

She slid closer to him. “It’s the first time you’ve taken me on one of your business trips.”

“Hope it’s the last, kid. Just hope that.”

“But I remember another one,” she went on. “That was business, too, you said. And I waited for you at Lake Tahoe and then you came back from Reno and joined me. Remember, Jackie?”

He sat up and made it hard for her to lean up against him. “I told you to lay off that stuff, Lynn. I told you it’s no good.”

She sat up too. He caught her profile and the line of her suit where the dashlight showed it, and even though she wasn’t like Renette, she reminded him of her. She wasn’t built like Renette, she was slimmer, but there was an expression about her face that reminded him. Lynn, too, used to look much colder.

“You told me,” she said. “You told me, you told me. You think it’s as easy as that?” But she didn’t sound mean about it; her voice was pleading.

He didn’t answer.

“You think you can ever hurt me enough so I’ll let go?”

“I’ve never tried to hurt you.”

“I know,” she said. “Perhaps you should.”

“Perhaps I should,” he said.

They came to Cedarhurst and Jesso slowed down. He pulled the car up, put it in neutral, and turned toward her.

“Listen to me, Lynn. You know what I’ve got to say about you and me, so I won’t say it again. But here’s something new. This time you hang around and I think you might get killed.”

She looked at him, but only her eyes moved.

“So get out.”

She sat still.

“Get out of the car. Give me two days and report it stolen.”

“I won’t,” she said.

“Or I’ll clip you and throw you out.”

“Clip me,” she said, and it sounded funny in her finishing-school diction.

He almost hauled out, but when he saw how she closed her eyes and put up her chin, he couldn’t do it. At first he thought he wanted to laugh, but that wasn’t it. He thought that if she meant something to him she wouldn’t look pitiful sitting there like that.

Her eyes were still closed and she started to tremble.

“For God’s sake, open up and relax,” he yelled at her. He felt like an idiot, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“You could have done it, Jackie.” Jesso put the car into gear, held it.

“If this kills you, Lynn, I won’t give a damn.”

“I won’t either,” she said, and he knew she meant it more than he did. He turned the car toward the North Shore of Long Island and didn’t talk the rest of the way.

They got to the house around two in the morning. A wall and a plot of trees hid the place from the road, but Jesso remembered where to turn. Inside, Lynn switched the lights on and turned up the heat. Then Jesso went to the bedroom. It faced the water and had a plate-glass window for one wall. The whole house was plate glass on the water side.

“Turn the light off,” Jesso said.

Lynn had her jacket off and was sliding the blouse down one arm. Her bra made sharp points.

“I don’t mind, darling. Even if the bay were filled with boats.”

“Turn off that light. You can see it for miles the way this place is lit up.”

She worked the switch and came back to Jesso.

“You can’t see me,” she said. “You won’t have to see me.”

She was so close he thought he could feel the warmth of her naked skin through his clothes.

“Go to bed. I’m sleeping on this-this damn love seat or whatever it is.”

“We have a double bed, Jackie. One side for me, one side for you, if you want.”

They went to bed, he on one side and she on the other.

By morning she had caught on that this was business, and she even remembered the part about getting killed. She made sure that the gate was closed after she came back with the groceries and pulled the car into the bushes by the side of the house. She didn’t make a fire in the round pit under the copper hood so that there wouldn’t be any smoke coming out of the chimney. And when she saw the revolver in Jesso’s belt she didn’t say a word. They ate something and then Jesso looked for the phone.

“You know how to reach Murph?”

“I’ve called him often enough, Jackie.”

“Call him once more. Call him the way you always do, because he doesn’t know where I am and neither do you.”

“What do I say?”

“Ask about me. He’ll do the rest. And get him to tell you what Gluck’s doing.”

She picked up the phone and gave the operator a number. She knew it by heart. She held the phone so Jesso could hear both ends of the conversation.

“Is Murph there?” she said, and then she waited. “Murph, this is-”

“I know, Miss Lynn, but I got no news for you.”

“Murph, he wants to know about Gluck.”

“You know where he is?”

“No, Murph.”

“Fine. Tell him to stay there.”

“You don’t want to see him?”

“Not for a while, Miss Lynn. They got the town staked out, the airports, and all the rat holes I can think of.”

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Oh, dear. He’ll get killed. I know he’ll get killed.”

“Don’t you worry none. Jackie knows what he’s doing. Besides, that ain’t the pitch.”

“What did you say, Murph?”

“That ain’t the pitch.”

“I know. What does it mean?”

“It means, Miss Lynn, they ain’t gunning for him. Gluck wants him alive.”

She gave a real sigh and was ready to hang up. But perhaps Jesso wanted to know more.

“Where did you say they’re looking for him, Murph?”

“Everywhere. Every rat hole-”

“You mean here in New York, in other cities, all over the country?”

“They don’t figure he’s got far. They’re looking just in New York. Everywhere.”

She sounded concerned some more and then she hung up and turned to Jesso.

“Well, it isn’t so bad,” she said. “They don’t want to kill you. They just want to talk, Jackie. Can’t you go and talk it over and get clear of all this? Jackie, you’ve never said much about your work, but there must be a better-“

“I never have, you’re right. So you don’t know what they mean by talk.”

He got up and walked to the window. She followed him. She leaned her back against the big glass, hands behind her, and it almost looked as if she were floating.

“Where will you go from here, Jackie?”

“Why? You want to go along?”

“I didn’t ask,” she said.

“You never ask.”

He hit the glass with the flat of his hand as if he didn’t care whether it broke or not.

“Enough now, Lynn!” Then he paced to the round fireplace and back. “I want you to cut it out. I want you to shut up about that old and gone business but for good. You know why I’m here and it isn’t you. It was but it won’t be again and you never catch on. Did you hear? I want you to lay off!”

“You want, you want,” she said. It was almost a mumble.

Then she said, “All right, Jackie. I will,” and it looked as if he was rid of her.

“Now back to normal. Remember your friend at Tahoe, that-that Jill whatshername-“

“Jill Timerlane, from Pasadena, Jackie.”

“That’s her. You still friends with her?”

“Of course, Jackie. I wrote-”

“Never mind. You got her phone number?”

“Not here. In the apartment.”

“Can you phone there and get it?”

“Of course, Jackie. Right away.”

She called and the maid answered and she gave Lynn the number.

“Now call up that Jill there. Call her long-distance and tell her about this joke you’re having with a buddy of-with a friend of yours, and that she has to send a telegram for you from L.A. to New York. You got it?”

Lynn nodded.

“Now write this down. The telegram says, ‘Dear President.’ Yeah, yeah, it’s President. All right now, ‘Dear President, sorry about mix-up. L.A. rainy and no smog. Sit tight.’ And sign it ‘Jack Jesso.’ Got that?”

She said yes and read it back to him. He told her to send it to C. Gluck and gave her the address.

He smoked two cigarettes and kept pacing around the crazy fireplace in the middle of the room while Lynn got the connection and tried to break through the small talk. Then she explained about this game she was playing and dictated the telegram. There came more chit-chat and then she hung up. She asked Jesso if she’d done it all right and Jesso said yes, that was fine. She went to the bedroom and lay down. When he looked in a little later she was asleep. He went in and put a blanket over her shoulders. She was asleep so she couldn’t make anything of that.

Jesso went back to the room with the round fireplace and stood by the plate glass. Two more days. He’d look at the bay for two more days and then he’d crawl out of his hole forever. He’d make one more dash, run just once more, and that was going to be the last. Then Renette would be there. The thought of her made the two days seem like standing still forever, but then there would be Renette forever. He had never thought that way before, but he was already used to the thought. Anything else hardly mattered-New York, Lynn, Kator-and if they got in the way, they and their lives would matter little enough.

He held on for the two days, talking little and pacing the room. Then came one more call to Murph, who said the heat was off, mostly, and they were looking for him in L.A. And Lynn. Without saying much, just by looking the way she did, she told him to take her, do anything, and if not she’d always be there. He had nothing to say to her and on the second day the big Stratocruiser barreled off the Idlewild runway and Jesso watched Jamaica Bay shoot by underneath.