1972 - You're Dead Without Money by James Hadley Chase

and sat down in the best arm chair. He ignored Vin and the threatening gun and concentrated on Joey. He liked the look of Joey and was surprised to see the old man was trembling.
     
    * * *
     
    ‘Is this your father, Cindy?’ he asked.
    ‘Yes.’ Cindy was also trembling.
    Elliot nodded to Joey.
    ‘I congratulate you. You have a lovely daughter, Mr. Luck. And this gentleman waving the gun at me . . . is he your fiancé?’
    ‘Now listen, buster,’ Vin snarled. ‘Button up! I do the talking around here!’
    Elliot continued to ignore Vin. To Cindy, he said, ‘I wouldn’t have thought he was your style. This act of his wouldn’t jell even on TV. I thought you could have aimed higher than him.’
    Vin recognized he was being challenged. He saw Cindy’s uneasy look and also Joey’s reaction.
    ‘Okay, punk,’ he said viciously. In the past, he had dealt with tough guys, smart punks and creeps who looked for trouble. This tall, handsome movie star had to be cut down to size and to learn right away who was the boss. Moving forward, he reached out and made a grab at Elliot’s shirtfront.
    The idea was to jerk Elliot out of the chair, rush him across the room, slam him against the wall and knock the breath out of him, but it didn’t work that way.
    Elliot chopped down-on Vin’s wrist, lifted his foot and rammed it into Vin’s chest to send him flying over him and the chair to crash on an occasional table, flattening it, the gun falling out of his hand.
    Elliot was on his feet and had caught up the gun while Vin lay still, stunned.
    ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Luck,’ Elliot said mildly. ‘I hope that table isn’t valuable.’
    Joey stood speechless, aware that Elliot was holding the gun. Into his mind came a vision of a patrol car pulling up and Cindy and he being bundled into it and the iron gates of a prison clanging behind them for at least ten years.
    Why had he listened to Vin? Why hadn’t he insisted that Cindy should have had nothing to do with this thing?
    Cindy, backed against the wall, looked with terrified eyes at Vin, wondering if he was badly hurt.
    ‘Don’t look so upset,’ Elliot said to her. ‘He’s all right. What’s a little tumble to a he-man like him?’
    Vin shook his head, trying to clear it. Then he got unsteadily to his feet. He glared at Elliot, his mouth working with rage, his fists clenched.
    ‘Make a wrong move, buster,’ Elliot said with a grin, ‘and I’ll give you a second belly button.’
    Looking at Vin with his viciousness and then at Elliot, calm, amused and completely unflustered, Cindy felt a sudden change of heart. She realized that Vin wasn’t the man for her. The realization came as a shock to her and she moved quickly to Joey and caught hold of his hand. Joey, who sensed things, knew with frightened joy that he had got his daughter back.
    ‘Suppose we all sit down and talk this thing over,’ Elliot said. ‘You over there.’ He waved Vin to a chair by the window, some ten feet from where he was standing. ‘Go on . . . sit down unless you want me to let this heater off and get the police here.’
    Muttering, but cowed, Vin went to the chair and sat down.
    Elliot smiled at Cindy.
    ‘You and dad sit there, please,’ and he waved to the sofa.
    Glad to sit down, Joey went to the sofa and he and Cindy sat side by side.
    Elliot took a chair away from them all. He put the gun on the arm of the chair, took out a pack of cigarettes and watching Vin, he lit the cigarette.
    ‘Well now, Cindy. You owe me an explanation. What’s all this about?’
    Joey squeezed Cindy’s arm.
    ‘Tell him, baby,’ he said. ‘The truth never hurts anyone.’
    ‘Oh, shut up!’ Vin snarled. ‘Keep your mouth shut, Cindy! Don’t listen to him!’
    Cindy flushed and her eyes snapped. No man talked that way to her and got away with it.
    ‘Mr. Elliot . . . I’m so ashamed,’ she said, looking straight at Elliot. ‘It seemed so easy . . . we want money terribly badly. It was Vin’s idea.