Read Online 1963 - One Bright Summer Morning by James Hadley Chase - Free Book Online

I've been losing cops for the past forty years.”
    In their turn, the Cranes examined Kramer. They had read about him in the tabloids when they were kids. They knew him to have been one of the top racketeers in the business: a man who had made six million dollars. Seeing him now, heavy, old with a whisky complexion his suntan couldn't conceal, they were disappointed. They had expected to see a man a lot more lethal-looking than this sixty-year old hunk of beef, sitting in an armchair and smoking a cigar.
    “Sit down, you two,” Kramer went on. He stared at Riff who still had a couple of raw blisters on his face where, two weeks ago, the ammonia had burned him. “What's the matter with your face?”
    “A whore bit me,” Riff said as he sat down.
    There was a long pause. Kramer's beefy face turned a dark red and his little eyes snapped.
    “Listen to me, you young slob,” he snarled, “when I ask a question, you answer up polite . . . hear me?”
    “Oh, sure,” Riff said indifferently, “but my face belongs to me: it's nothing to you what's the matter with it.”
    Zegetti eyed Kramer uneasily. In the old days, if some punk talked back to him, Kramer would crush him with a blow in the face, but instead, Kramer shrugged and said, “We're wasting time. Now, listen, you two, I'm fixing a job. I could use you if you want to come in. There's no risk and it's worth five grand. What do you say?”
    Chita was aware of the impression she had made on Kramer. She had an instinctive knowledge when she raised lust in men, and she knew she had stirred Kramer's desires.
    “No risk?” she asked. “Then what's a cop doing, parked outside?”
    “You two little jerks don't know what it is to be famous,” Kramer said. “Moe here was one of the top craftsmen in the game and I ran a mob of over five hundred hoods who really knew their business. When Moe and I get together, it's news. The Feds get scared. I said forget it. I'll lose them when I want to. Right now they can sit outside and stew. It won't get them anywhere. When I pull this job, they'll know nothing about it. Do you want the job? It's worth five grand. Make up your minds. If you want it, say so.”
    Riff touched one of the raw blisters on his face and winced angrily.
    “What's the job?”
    “You buy it sight unseen,” Kramer said. “You don't get the dope until you say you're in, and when you're in, you damn well stay in or you'll have me to reckon with.”
    The Cranes looked at each other. For the past two weeks they had been having a very bad time. Word had got around how the little guy had fixed them and they had lost face with their gang. The other gangs openly jeered at them and Riff had been involved in several fights: one of them he had nearly lost. Chita had been pestered on the streets by punks who wouldn't have dared touch her before. Riff had been laid up for a week. The offer of five thousand dollars stunned them. It was more money than they had ever hoped to lay their hands on in their lives. So far they had played it small, but safe. Now, getting themselves hooked up to a fat old square like Kramer could land them into trouble they had so carefully avoided so far. But the money was too big a temptation. Riff nodded his head at Chita who nodded back.
    “Well, okay, we're in,” Riff said and taking out a couple of cigarettes, he tossed one to Chita and lit the other for himself. “What's the deal?”
    Kramer told them what he had told Moe, but he mentioned no names. He said the girl was the daughter of a wealthy man who would pay ransom without going to the cops.
    There was a long pause after Kramer had finished talking.
    The Cranes looked at each other, then Riff slowly shook his head. To Kramer, he said, “That caper could land us in the gas chamber. Five grand isn't enough. If we're going to risk our necks, we want five grand each.”
    Kramer's face went a blotchy red.
    “I told you! There's no risk!”
    “It's a snatch. Something could turn