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when you see him.”

My heart skipped a beat, then began to race.

“Him? Who do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“Your cousin, Ricca. He’s waiting outside.”

III

He came into the room as silently as a ghost: a short, fat man with a pot belly and short,

thick legs. His face was round and fat, and small, purple veins made an unsightly network

over his skin. He had snake’s eyes, flat and glittering and as lifeless as glass. He was going

bald, and had taken pains to spread his thinning black hair over the bald patches without

much success. His thick, red lips were set in a meaningless, perpetual smile.

One thing I was certain of: I’d never seen him before in my life.

Everything about him shrieked of money: his clothes, his linen, his personal jewellery were

the best money could buy. He had a diamond ring on his little finger: the stone was as big as a

pigeon’s egg.

He came silently across the room: his feet making no sound on the parquet floor. In his

right hand he carried a large bunch of blood-red carnations, carefully wrapped in tissue paper.

He came to the foot of the bed and stood looking at me. Riskin stepped aside; a benign

expression on his wrinkled face.

“Hello, Johnny,” the fat man said. He had a soft, fruity voice as if it came from a throat

well cushioned with fat.

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I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. It was as if I had been pitchforked into a horrible

nightmare.

“He looks fine, doesn’t he?” the fat man went on, smiling at Riskin. “Jeepers, Johnny, you

gave me a scare. I’ve been looking all over for you. How do you feel?”

“I don’t know you,” I said, and my voice was husky. “Get out of here!”

“Take it easy, boy,” Riskin said mildly. “Give him a chance to talk to you. You want to get

well, don’t you? We’ve got to get this mind of yours working again.”

“I tell you I don’t know him!”

The fat man put the carnations down on the bedside table.

“You’ve taken a pretty bad knock, Johnny,” he said. “The doc thinks I can help you. I want

to help you. You know that.”

I was scared of him. In spite of his smile there was something about his eyes that warned

me he was as dangerous as a rattlesnake.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

He puffed breath at me, and his diamond flashed in the sunlight coming through the open

window.

“Come on, Johnny, let’s try to get on top of this thing,” he said. “There’s Ginny to think of.

You haven’t forgotten Ginny? You can imagine how she is feeling. She wants to see you,

Johnny.”

Was there no end to this? I found myself clutching hold of the sheet again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t want you in here. Get out!”

“You don’t remember Ginny - the girl you’re going to marry ?” He looked over at Riskin,

raising his fat shoulders. “I can’t believe that. Would you like to see her? Is that what you’d

like?”

I just lay there, staring at him while a cold wind blew through my mind.

“You two get together,” Riskin said. “I gotta go. Take it easy, boy. It’s going to work out

all right, only you’ve got to be receptive.”

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I wanted to tell him to stay. I wanted to tell him to take this fat horror out of here, but no

words came. He went off, scratching his ear and shaking his head.

There was a long pause after he had gone. The fat man puffed gently, his smile remained

fixed, and his snake’s eyes watched me.

“You get out, too,” I said.

Instead, he reached for a chair and sat down.

“Know what they call that guy on the Force ?” he asked. “They call him Foxy Riskin. He’s

made a hit with you, hasn’t he, with his ‘boy’ this and his ‘boy’ that? You think he’s trying to

help you, don’t you? Well, he isn’t. All he wants to do is to get your confidence, and when

he’s got that, when he’s softened you up and got your guard down, he’s going to slap a

murder rap on you, and he’s going to make it stick.”

I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. I turned hot, then cold.

“If it wasn’t for me,” the fat man went on, resting his pudgy hands on his fat knees and

staring at me, “you’d be in jail now. All he wants is the motive, and I could tell him that, but

I’ve kept my mouth shut because you and I are going to make a deal.”

“I won’t listen to you,” I said. “Get out of here!”

“They don’t know who she is. I could tell them, and once they know, you’re sunk,” the fat

man went on. “It doesn’t suit me for them to find out, but if it has to come out, I’ll handle it

as I handle most things.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re not my cousin! I’ve never seen you before

in my life!”

His smile widened.

“Of course I’m not your cousin, but do you want me to tell Riskin that? Do you want three

murder raps pinned on you? Isn’t one enough?”

I got hold of myself. I had to, or I’d have blown my top.

“You’re mixing me up with someone else,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m

John Farrar. I’m not Ricca, and I’m not your cousin. Now will you please get out!”

“I know you’re Farrar. You’re the guy who killed Wertharn and Reisner. Sure, I know you,

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and you killed her, too. If it hadn’t been for the gun they might have thought it was an accident, but they found the gun. It had her prints on it.”

“You know I’m Farrar?” I said, leaning forward to stare at him. “Then all this talk about me

being Ricca is a lie?”

“He thinks you’re Ricca,” the fat man said, “and so long as he thinks so I can swing it.

Once he finds out you’re Farrar, you’re done for.”

I put my head in my hands. I felt I was going crazy.

“Suppose we skip the comedy,” the fat man went on, and his smile oozed off his face like a

fish sliding off a fishmonger’s slab. “You play with me and I’ll play with you. I’ll show you

how to out-fox Riskin. With me behind you, you can beat this rap.” He thrust his head

forward: he looked like a tortoise sitting there, his hands on his knees, his head forward, his

eyes hooded. “Where’ve you hidden the money?”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t look at him. I went on holding my head in my hands. But I

was getting my second wind. I was getting the hang of this set-up.

“Now, look,” he said, “you’re in a corner, and there’s no way out for you unless you play

along with me, I can fix it. I’ll get Hame to handle it. He’ll talk to Riskin. Tell me where the

money is, and there’ll be no blowback. You can walk out of here as free as the air. What do

you say?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, and was surprised how steady my voice

was now.

He studied me.

“Use your head, Farrar. You can’t expect to get away with all that money, I tell you what

I’ll do. I’ll stake you. I’ll give you five grand, and I’ll fix Riskin. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

“If you think Riskin can pin anything on me, go ahead and let him do it. You’re mixing me

up with someone else. I don’t know anything about any money.”

“Don’t get excited,” he said, his fat fingers knees drumming on my knees. “You don’t trust

me, do you? But ask yourself: why should I bother about you? You can walk out of here and

do what you damn well like. Why should I care? She was the one who cared. I don’t. Give

me the dough and I’ll see you right. Now come on. Where is it?”

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