Free 1955 - You've Got It Coming by James Hadley Chase Page B

considerable income, he never looked as if he owned a nickel. His clothes were stained and shabby and invariably too tight for him.
    His shirt was always grubby. His hands and nails were so dirty that Ben, who was fastidious, often complained.
    Looking at him now as he sat slumped in the chair, his dirty hands folded across his gross belly, a cigarette drooping from his thick, almost negroid lips, ash on his vest, the buttons of which threatened to fly off under the strain of keeping the gross body controlled, Ben thought he had never seen a more unpleasant and disgusting object.
    “Well?” he said. “Let's have it.”
    His ebony eyes staring up at the ceiling, Borg began to talk.
    His voice was hoarse and breathless. All the time he talked he seemed to be struggling to breathe. From where he sat, Ben could smell his stale sweat and his dirty clothes. He fancied he could smell the threat of death in him.
    “This guy's a phoney,” Borg said, speaking hoarsely and softly. “He has no background. He doesn't exist as you and I exist. Suddenly, out of the blue, is Harry Green. There are no records of him. The Army Air Force don't know him. The cops don't know him. No one knows him. I haven't dug into any guy's background as I've dug into his and found so little. I've traced him from New York, though he says he comes from Pittsburgh. No one knows him in New York. As soon as he hits Los Angeles, he starts making an impression. He tips a taxi driver five bucks. He has his photograph taken and starts a fight with the photographer. He gets tough with Lamson. He goes to the same bar every night and talks big and tough. He brags about what a hot pilot he was and how he wants to get into the air again. He acts like a man who wants to be remembered. That stinks to me. A guy who is planning a three-million-buck steal doesn't act that way unless he's crazy or has a damn good reason for doing it.”
    Ben knocked the ash off his cigar while he stared at Borg.
    “Think we can trust him?”
    Borg lifted his massive shoulders.
    “I guess so. He won't get the chance to double cross us. I’ll take care of that. I think he can handle this job. But he isn't Harry Green. It's up to you whether you care who he is or not. If he delivers, it doesn't matter who he is. If he doesn't, then it does. He's being smart. He is taking care of himself. It's my bet when the job's been pulled, Harry Green will vanish because Harry Green doesn't exist.”
    Ben nodded.
    “Yeah, that's the way I figured it. Maybe it'll be a good thing if he does vanish. If the cops catch him, he might squeal.” He stared into space for a long moment. “I don't give a damn who he is so long as he delivers. Have you any dope on the diamonds?”
    “They exist. The Far Eastern Trading Corporation is run by a guy called Takamori, who represents a big industrial group in Japan. He has bought three million dollars’ worth of industrial diamonds. He has got government permission to release the diamonds and he is shipping them to Tokyo from San Francisco. This is the consignment Green is talking about. The diamonds are there all right. It depends on Green if you get them or not.”
    “What about the three guys who are to help him?”
    “I've got them fixed, Joe Franks and Marty Lewin will ride with him. Sam Meeks will handle the car.”
    Ben frowned.
    “Who are they? They're not our men, are they?”
    Borg shook his head. Ben could almost hear the thick fat around Borg's neck creak as he moved his head.
    “We don't want our guys on this job. These three will be seen by the crew and the passengers. They could be identified. We don't want to give the cops any trouble. I picked them from San Francisco. They go back as soon as the job is done. We don't want the cops to hook us to the job, do we?”
    “That's right. They're okay?”
    “They're okay.”
    “So you think we're going to get away with this job?”
    Borg lifted his black, heavy eyebrows.
    “It depends on Green. If he