Stop This Man! by Peter Rabe Read Free Book Online Page A

through. So till then, we gotta go easy, not to speak of the risks. The way I figure it, you stay here and I do the scouting alone. Then I send for you. And then we can go anywhere you want. Whaddaya say?”
    “But Tony!” Selma sounded hurt. “You mean that?”
    “Just till I finish this business, honey. You know I can’t be seen with you now They know you been a friend of Schumacher’s, and I don’t want to get connected to him in any way. It’s too risky. Besides, I haven’t got any dough right now.”
    “Tony, I got some. I got two thousand at home. I been saving it the longest time. And honest, Tony, I don’t mind.”
    “It’s no good, Selma. It’s too risky for both of us. As long as I’m not connected with Schumacher in any way, everything is jake.”
    “Now you listen to me, Tony Catell. You better take care of me or else. Otto never would have acted that way. I’m going with you or else.”
    “Or else what?” Catell said it slowly and quietly, but Selma caught the tone.
    “You don’t scare me one bit, Tony Catell. If you think you can trample all over me and then walk out you got another guess coming. First you make me leave Otto, then you go get him shot to death so he’s out of the way, and then you think you can just give me the boot and light out. Not on your life!”
    “Selma, you’re talking crazy. You got everything wrong. I never intended for Otto to end up that way.”
    “Oh, yes, you did, lovin’ cup. I know your kind, but it ain’t gonna happen to me.” Selma gave Catell an ugly look and drained her glass. “I want another drink, right now. And don’t tell me you’re broke, lovin’ cup.”
    Catell controlled his temper and waved for another drink.
    “And from now on, any plans you got you discuss with me, lovin’ cup, understand? I been around long enough to know how to handle your kind.”
    “That’s for sure.”
    “What’s that? And another thing. I want you to know I despise you from the bottom of my heart, lovin’ cup, for what you did to my Otto. That was the lowest, swiniest—”
    “Stop calling me loving cup.”
    Selma stopped in the middle of her sentence and looked vacantly at Catell. Then suddenly she buried her face in the palms of her hands and started to cry. She bawled with a wet and cowlike sound, crying, “Lovin’ cup!” between hiccups.
    “My dear, my dear, my dear!”
    Paar had reappeared from somewhere and he was patting Selma on the back and stroking her bare arm.
    “Beat it, Paar. She’ll be all right.” Catell felt uncomfortable.
    “My good Tony, you don’t seem to know how a lady likes to be treated at a time like this. One moment, Tony. You are my guests here, so allow me to help you with this little matter. Why don’t you go and buy some cigarettes, and when you come back, everything will be all right. Won’t it, Selma dear?” He put his hand on Selma’s shoulder.
    Catell got up and looked around the room. Let that bald monkey handle that mess and her sloppy curls. Live and let live, he thought. How that lousy bag got him to make a pitch for her he didn’t know. Catell walked to the bar and ordered a shot. Back on the couch he saw Paar sitting next to Selma, who was patting her eyes and nodding her head. If Paar thought he was getting a deal there, he had a big, mushy surprise coming. And welcome to it.
    Catell let his eyes wander over the dim room. Couples were sitting or standing together, there were groups of young punks in tuxedos, and everybody looked prosperous. Catell recognized one or two faces; the rest were strangers to him. Everybody was young, slick-looking, and everybody seemed very sure of himself. Then Catell thought of California. Pretty soon now he would be back on top. In a very short time all these punks were going to hear about Tony Catell.
    “Where do I get smokes in this place?” he asked the bartender.
    The guy nodded to the left and kept on wiping a glass. Catell was going to say something else, but his