Ten Long Years by Richard Hill Wilkinson

“You will tell me where the money is. Now. Or—” He saw the cane in the big man’s hand...

Sidney Schliff’s hobby was studying the stock market. It fascinated him. Over a period of two years, by making careful investments, buying and selling at the right time, he made a little more than two million dollars. On paper, that is.

It was fun, and exciting.

At the end of this two-year period Sidney felt that he was ready to begin a bit of jumping in and out for real, He first jumped into Allied Plastics, and lost two thousand dollars within three weeks because he didn’t jump out at the proper time. Sidney shrugged off the loss. So he’d made a miscalculation. So what? It wasn’t his money he’d lost. It was the bank’s.

Sidney worked in the bookkeeping department of the Bomont First National Bank and Trust Company. It was easy for him to juggle the books around so that the discrepancy wouldn’t be discovered, at least for the time being. And long before the “time being” had expired Sidney would have jumped in and out again and replaced the amount of the first loss.

For example, Sidney had his eye on Fairbanks Steel. Apparently Fairbanks Steel had its eye on Sidney, because the day after he waded in with a three thousand dollar investment, Fairbanks stock plunged to an all time low.

This shook him up. He couldn’t understand why things weren’t working out for him as they had when he was only a paper investor. He was now five grand in the hole and the bank’s books were giving him an uncomfortable feeling every time he opened them. They seemed to screech at him to restore the money he had stolen.

Sidney studied the market for another week and then, convinced that his system couldn’t fail a third time, decided to take the plunge. He “borrowed” another ten thousand dollars from the bank and nailed it on Melrose Chemicals. Melrose Chemicals had no sympathy or understanding whatever. Ten days later they folded Sidney’s — or the bank’s — ten thousand bucks vanished, never to be heard from again.

Sidney was now beset by a feeling he had never before known. It was a feeling of panic. Desperately he scanned the stock market reports. Brown Electronics looked good. It looked extremely good. It was a comparatively new company and had moved steadily forward since its inception. But was it worth the risk?

Sidney thought about it. Despite his careful calculations he had failed three times. The bank examiners were due: any day. They would detect the discrepancies at a glance and point the finger of guilt at him. He’d be arrested, tried and convicted. He’d be sent to jail for ten years, with three years off for good behavior.

Sidney shuddered. Then he had a great idea. If he was going to be sent to jail anyway, why not be sent for something worth while?

The next day was Friday and Sidney arrived at the bank with an empty suitcase. He told everyone he was leaving right after the bank closed for a week-end with some friends in New Hampshire.

Sidney was a long-time and trusted employee. One of his duties was to check the cash in the vault at the end of each business day. Thus it took no great scheming for him to fill his suitcase with stacks of currency, amounting to a quarter of a million dollars, without arousing suspicion. The theft couldn’t possibly be discovered until the vault was opened on Monday.

At six o’clock he left the bank, carrying the now rather heavy suitcase, and climbed into his car. But he didn’t head for New Hampshire. Instead he headed for the Bomont Airport.

On Monday Sidney was late in getting to work. It was early afternoon when he finally stepped through the door of the bank. He was promptly seized by two plain-clothes officers and hustled off to jail.

In high school and later in college Sidney had engaged in amateur theatrics. He considered himself a fairly good performer. He proved it now. To all of the questions, accusations and threats that were hurled at him he replied with shock, disbelief, wonder and indignation.

The interrogated him for hours, but it didn’t do any good. Sidney claimed he was innocent. Not only innocent but shocked that the bank could think him guilty of such a heinous crime.

He didn’t care what the books showed. Someone must have forged his handwriting. Of course he couldn’t tell them where he’d hidden the money. How could he when he didn’t have it to hide?

And so at last they gave up. They charged him formally with the crime. He was tried in court, convicted and given a ten-year prison sentence. But they didn’t get him to tell where he’d hidden the money. How could he, he protested to the bitter end, when he didn’t have the money to hide?

This, of course, was not the end of the matter. How could it be with a quarter of a million dollars stashed away somewhere and so many people wondering about its location? Two weeks after Sidney was incarcerated in Hayden State Prison he was summoned to the office of the captain of the guards. The captain’s name was Jack Manners, a brute of a man with a deceptively soft voice.

Sidney stood at attention before the captain’s desk and waited for the man to speak. The man took a long time to do so. He looked Sidney over with an expression that seemed to be no more than idle curiosity. Then he picked up the cane that was lying on his desk and began caressing it fondly.

“You,” the captain said presently, “don’t look like a man capable of stealing a quarter of a million dollars.”

“Thank you, sir. You’re the first to believe me when I say I didn’t steal it.”

Captain Manners laughed softly. “As captain of the guards here at Hayden, it is within my power to make an inmate’s stay pleasant or miserable. I assume, Mr. Schliff, that you would like your stay here to be made as pleasant as possible.”

Sidney swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.” Suddenly he felt cold inside. He was beginning to get the drift of what was coming.

“Naturally.” Captain Manners stroked the smooth cylinder of the cane more rapidly. He got up, came around the desk and sat on its edge. He was within a few feet of where Sidney stood. “In that case, Mr. Schliff, I think I can arrange it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“All you have to do is tell me where the money is hidden.” He paused. “Half of it will be waiting for you when your time is up. The other half will be in payment for my efforts in making your stay here pleasant.”

Sidney swallowed again. “But, sir, you’ve already told me that, you believed I didn’t steal the money.”

“Naturally you can’t have any idea how unpleasant I can make life here for you at Hayden. I should have first given you a sample. I shall do so now.”

The cane swished through the air and caught Sidney a stinging blow on the cheek. A red welt appeared. Sidney yelped and leaped away.

The captain pushed a button on his desk, then swung around and clouted Sidney on the jaw. Sidney dropped with a crash. The captain strode over and kicked him brutally in the ribs.

At that moment the door burst open and two guards came rushing in.

“Did you ring, Captain?”

“And barely in time,” Manners growled. “This fool attacked me. Throw him in the hole.”

Sidney spent five days in the hole. There was nothing to do but nurse his wounds and think. It occurred to him that as long as so many people suspected that he had a quarter of a million dollars stashed away he’d be hounded for the rest of his life. It wasn’t a pleasant prospect.

He had seven long years to serve here at Hayden and, if he were any judge of men, Captain Manners wouldn’t abandon his determination to make him reveal the hiding place of the money.

And after the seven years were up, what then? The police would stiff be curious. And then there were the hoodlums and the gangsters.

Sidney shuddered. He couldn’t stand physical pain, and he knew that hoodlums and gangsters had their methods of making a man talk.

Sidney took a deep breath. He had an out. But could he take what was in store for him for the next seven years? Was it going to be worth it? Sidney decided that it was.

Captain Manners was a stubborn man and relentless. The more Sidney held out on him the more determined he became. It was only when Sidney actually seemed on the verge of death that he relented.

Sidney spent more time in the hole than he did in his cell. He had to subsist on the most meager of diets. He was given the most menial of tasks to be performed in the prison workshops. Beatings with the cane became almost a weekly routine. He was tricked into making it seem that he was trying to escape, and spent a full month in the hole.

But Sidney didn’t break. He had a vision and he kept it in front of him at all times. It sustained him.

The worst blow, the one that was hardest to take, came at the end of the seven years. He was brought up before the parole board. Captain Manners’ report on Sidney was passed from hand to hand, read by each member. They exchanged glances and nodded of one accord. Sidney was refused a parole.

Sidney almost broke then. Almost, but not quite. Not even after a session that night in the captain’s office with the cane. No, he’d endured seven hellish years. He could endure another three. And he did.

When the doors finally opened for him Sidney stepped into the outside world a mere shadow of the man he’d been ten years before. He stood for a minute looking around him, looking across the street into a vacant lot that extended for some distance without any fences, watching the traffic that passed in front of him. Across the way three automobiles were parked against the curb. Two of them were occupied, a single man behind each wheel. Both were watching him steadily.

Sidney sighed, shifted his suitcase to his left hand and moved along the street toward a bus stop. From the corner of his eye he saw the occupants of the parked cars start up their motors. A bus swung in at the curb and Sidney stepped aboard. Before settling himself in a rear seat, he glanced through the window. Both of the automobiles were idling along after the bus.

Sidney sighed again, leaned back his head and closed his eyes. Ten years ago he hadn’t thought it would be like this. He hadn’t looked this far ahead. He had thought that after he’d served his time, paid his debt to society, he’d be allowed to go free, left alone.

Now he realized that he’d never be left alone again, never have any privacy. He’d be watched day and night. He might even be kidnaped and “persuaded” to tell where he’d hidden the money.

He should have planned the robbery more carefully. He should have made it seem at least possible that someone else had stolen the money. But no. He had been so sure of how things would work out that he had blatantly gone ahead, made no effort to cover his trail nor made an attempt to cast suspicion on anyone else — and then practically turned himself in by returning to the scene of the crime.

Sidney spent the next three days in a cheap rooming house. Whenever he went out, no matter the time of day or night, he saw the men. They were lounging in doorways, standing on street corners, sitting in parked cars. No matter where he went, he was always followed. He began to think that everyone was on his trail.

Toward the end of the third day the germ of an idea began to form in Sidney’s mind. He spent an almost sleepless night. He awoke early. The germ had come into full bloom.

Relaxed for the first time in days, he ate a leisurely breakfast at a nearby restaurant, then stepped into a cab and ordered the driver to take him to police headquarters. He knew that he was being followed, that he was being watched. But now he didn’t care.

Now suddenly the future looked bright.

Lieutenant Marvin Kennessy of the central police force was a big man, red headed, craggy-faced, intelligent. He was a veteran of twenty years, having worked his way up from cop on the beat.

He sat now staring at the man sitting across the desk from him with an almost incredulous look on his face.

“Sidney Schliff? It’s hard to believe.”

“It’s me all right, Lieutenant,” Sidney said.

“Looks as though they gave you a pretty rough time up at Hayden.”

“They did.”

Lieutenant Kennessy wrinkled his forehead. “Well, a criminal can’t expect to be treated with gloved hands, especially one who continually seemed to be looking for trouble.” He spread his hands. “But that’s not in my department. What was it you wanted to see me about, Schliff?”

“I want to return the quarter of a million dollars I stole.”

There was a moment of silence. Lieutenant Kennessy let the match he had lighted to fire up his pipe burn until it toasted his fingers. Then he shook it out.

“So at last you admit having stolen the money?”

“I do.”

“And now, having served time for the crime, you want to give the money back. It doesn’t make sense.”

“It didn’t to me when I planned the robbery ten years ago. I thought that after I’d served my time I’d be let alone. I thought I’d... well, I thought I’d be able to enjoy the money. Ten years isn’t too long to wait for a quarter of a million dollars.”

“And now you’ve discovered it isn’t going to work out that way.” The lieutenant hesitated, lighting his pipe. “I don’t know what your angle is. You’re safe in assuming you won’t be sent back to jail again whether or not you return the money. You’ve paid the score once.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“So. Why return the money?”

Sidney sat forward in his chair. “Lieutenant, for ten years I haven’t had a moment’s privacy. I’ve been beaten and humiliated and tricked into doing things that I never intended doing. The only privacy I’d had has been during the months I’ve spent in the stinking black hole. Only a man who has served time in prison can know what a precious commodity privacy is.”

Sidney paused and the lieutenant said, “Go on.”

“Since the moment I stepped through the prison gates I’ve been followed, watched. I don’t know whether those following me were your men or if they were hoodlums. But I do know that I’ll be followed and watched and harrassed and perhaps beaten again for the rest of my days unless I return the money.”

Lieutenant Kennessy nodded. “You know right, son. You’ll be under serveillance every minute of every day and night. You’ll never be able to enjoy a nickel of that money.”

He paused, studying Sidney closely. “You were willing to sell ten years of your life for a quarter of a million dollars, and now you want to buy back what remains of your years for the same quarter of a million?”

“That’s about what it amounts to.”

“All right.” The lieutenant stood up. “You’re being smart. You’ve figured the right angle. Where’s the money?”

Sidney shook his head. “It isn’t as easy as that.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll get the money. I’ll deliver it here to you. Call off your watch dogs. Make sure I’m not followed.”

The lieutenant uttered a short laugh. “Now there’s one for the book. You want me to give you a chance to pick up the loot and then disappear from sight. Don’t be a fool.”

“I’m not being a fool. You know I couldn’t get away with a stunt like that. I’ll give you time to alert every police force in the country. You can stake out every railroad station, plane and bus terminal, steamship line and highway. You know I couldn’t get through a dragnet like that.”

Kennessy took a turn around the room, came back and stood looking down at Sidney.

“You must have a reason for not wanting us to pick up the money. What is it?”

“I don’t believe you’d understand. Lieutenant.” Sidney hesitated. “I’d like to see the money again, count it, handle it. After all, it’s the end of a dream for me.”

“And you think you could resist a possible urge to take off for parts unknown?”

“Be reasonable, Lieutenant. If I did that I’d be hounded worse than I am now.”

Kennessy uttered his short, barking laugh. “Brother, this is one I can tell my grandchildren. Suppose I don’t go along with the gag?”

Sidney shrugged. “Then the money stays where it is.” His eyes narrowed: “Be quite a feather in your cap if you could return the quarter of a million to the bank, wouldn’t it, Lieutenant.”

“And all you want is to be left alone for the rest of your life? You’ll pay a quarter of a million dollars for the privilege?”

“Yes. When I return the money here I want you to notify every news service in the city. I want pictures published of me returning the loot. I want the public to know that there’s no longer a reason for anyone to dog my footsteps from now on.”

“Thought it all out, eh?”

“I tried to.”

The lieutenant took a deep breath. He started to speak, checked himself, then stood up. “All right. I don’t seem to have any alternative. You can stay here for the next three days while I pass the word. We’ll rig up some kind of disguise for you. On the morning of the fourth day we’ll turn you loose. On the fifth day I’ll expect you back here with the money. And I warn you — you’d better show.”

“I’ll show,” Sidney said. “You can count on it.” He sighed. “It’ll be worth it to live like a free man, even though I’m broke.”

Three months later, on board the jet liner that was taking him to Europe on the first leg of a luxury world tour, Sidney struck up a speaking acquaintance with his seat companion. The man, whose name was Michael Reaser, was head of an internationally known textile company and was presently on his way to join his wife in the south of France for a short vacation.

“And what’s your line, Mr. Schliff?” he asked with only mild curiosity.

“Stocks,” Sidney answered promptly.

Mr. Reaser’s interest picked up. “Stocks. Ah, yes.” He looked at Sidney fully. “You’ve done pretty well, I presume?”

Sidney shrugged indifferently.

“I guess you could say that.” They made some small talk about business in general and the state of the stock market. Then Mr. Reaser cleared his throat.

“By the way, Mr. Schliff, I happen to have a few thousand dollars lying idle at the moment. I wonder if you could suggest a good buy in the market?”

“As a matter of fact,” said Sidney, smiling, “I can. Ten years ago I took a flier by buying up a quarter of a million dollars worth of stock in Brown Electronics. They were young then, but growing. I investigated them thoroughly before making the purchase. I could see no reason why my investment wasn’t a good one. Well, sir, the gamble paid off. Apparently my money gave the company the shot in the arm it needed. Recently I had to sell part of my holdings to pay a rather large debt to my bank.” Sidney’s smile broadened. “My original investment had increased to more than two million dollars.”