One Bright Summer Morning

Influenced by this new heady feeling of freedom, Moe decided the split wasn’t fair. Although Kramer had planned the job, he, Moe, had been landed with the dangerous end. If the job happened to turn sour, he would be the first to take the rap. It wasn’t good enough. When Kramer began to dish out the money, Moe told himself, he would be a sucker if he didn’t ask for more. He might even persuade Kramer to split the take.

With these thoughts running through his head, Moe started the car and drove towards Wastelands. During the drive, he brooded about the ransom. He finally convinced himself that Kramer must split the money with him. He would tell Kramer he, Moe, would be willing to pay off the Cranes from his share, but Kramer would have to accept the new terms. In this mood of elation, Moe didn’t even consider just how he would persuade Kramer to do this.

It was because his native cunning was alerted by these thoughts that he immediately sensed that something was wrong as he pulled up outside the ranch house.

He sat for a long moment in the car, looking towards the veranda. Zelda, in a new outfit, with Chita was standing tense and looking towards him. There was no sign of Riff.

He got out of the car. Something was up, he told himself, but what? The Cranes were tricky, but for all their trickiness, he couldn’t imagine what they had been up to to give him this feeling of uneasiness. Casually, he undid the button of his jacket to enable him to get at the .38 automatic he carried in a holster under his jacket.

He walked slowly to the steps of the veranda and mounted them.

“All okay?” he asked, pausing at the top of the steps and staring at Chita.

He saw Zelda glance swiftly at Chita and then away.

Chita said, “Why shouldn’t it be?”

There was something about her expression that made him uneasy. He saw too that the left side of her face was slightly bruised.

“Where’s Riff?” he asked without moving.

“Inside,” Chita said.

There was a pause as Moe stared searchingly at her, then Riff appeared in the front doorway. He was wearing his black leather suit. There was sweat on his face and his smile was a fixed grimace.

“Hyah, there,” he said. “So you’re back.”

“Where’s Mrs. Dermott?” Moe asked, turning so he faced Riff.

“Inside with her brat,” Riff said.

Moe suddenly noticed that Riff’s hand was out of sight, behind his back.

“Everything okay while I’ve been away?” he asked.

“Sure... fine,” Riff said and he began to move towards Moe.

Out of the corner of his eye, Moe was aware that Chita was moving casually, but her languid strides were bringing her quickly towards him.

“What have you behind your back?” Moe asked.

“What are you talking about?” Riff asked. He was nearly within striking distance of Moe.

Moe hadn’t been considered by the police as a dangerous criminal for nothing. He may have allowed himself to be bossed around by his mother and by Kramer, but when in a tight spot, Moe could be as dangerous as a rattlesnake. As Kramer’s lieutenant, he had had control of young vicious hoods who could turn into killers and he had never lost in a showdown. He had the knack of drawing a gun faster than any of the hoods he handled. It was a knack that had saved his life many times in the past and a knack he had never let get rusty.

Riff, his hand bound in his chain, was about to deal Moe a crushing blow to his face when he found himself looking at the vicious nose of a .38 that had appeared in Moe’s hand as if by magic.

Seeing the gun, Chita stopped as if she had run into an invisible wall. The Cranes looked at Moe who moved slightly so he could swing the gun easily to cover them both.

“What’s the big idea?” Riff asked, his voice uneven.

“Get that chain off!” Moe snapped. “Drop it on the floor, fast!”