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

When he heard I’d met you, he said it would be easy to kidnap you and you’d pay to be freed. It didn’t sound bad the way Vin put it. He promised not to hurt you. As you are so rich, my father and I felt you wouldn’t miss the ransom and we could make a new life for ourselves. Now, of course, I see how wrong it was. Please forgive us.’
    Elliot gaped at her.
    ‘Ransom? What were you going to ask?’
    Cindy looked at Joey for guidance and Joey nodded.
    ‘Fifty thousand dollars. With all your money, Mr. Elliot . . . you wouldn’t have missed that, would you?’
    Elliot burst out laughing. While Joey and Cindy stared at him and Vin glared savagely, Elliot laughed until he had to mop his eyes with his handkerchief.
    ‘What’s so funny about it?’ Cindy asked nervously.
    ‘Funny? It’s the best joke of the year! My poor, misguided people, I bet I’m as broke as you are. All I have in the world is my car, a suitcase of clothes and nine thousand dollars in cash - and the money doesn’t belong to me. I’m getting out of here before my creditors catch up with me. You certainly picked the wrong victim. What’s the matter with you three? Didn’t you ask around? Don’t you know you should never take anyone on face value?’
    ‘He’s bluffing,’ Vin said and made to get out of his chair.
    Elliot dropped his hand on the gun.
    ‘I wouldn’t, pal,’ he said. ‘Even with a tin foot I can handle you.’ There was a look in his eyes that made Vin sink back in the chair.
    ‘You mean you really haven’t any money . . . you’re not rich?’ Cindy asked. ‘But the Rolls and that marvellous villa! You can’t expect us to believe that!’
    ‘The Rolls went back to the agent a few hours ago. The villa doesn’t belong to me. I’m on the run, baby. I’m washed up.’
    ‘Yeah? No one’s washed up with nine thousand dollars,’ Vin said.
    ‘How long will that last? When it’s gone . . . that’s it. I’ve no way of making a living. I’m through.’
    ‘But all that money . . . you could live on it for at least two years,’ Cindy said, thinking how little they managed to live on.
    ‘Lots of people could live on it for years, but not me,’ Elliot said. ‘I either keep my standards or I don’t want to go on living.’
    There was a pause, then Joey, speaking for the first time, said, ‘I don’t think that’s right thinking, Mr. Elliot, if you’ll excuse me saying so. We live on two hundred dollars a week and we get by.’
    ‘I don’t want to get by,’ Elliot said. ‘I want to live. If you were so satisfied living on two hundred a week why stick your neck out on a kidnapping rap?’
    Joey flinched.
    ‘I didn’t want to do it,’ he said earnestly. ‘I wouldn’t have done it, Mr. Elliot.’
    ‘He’s right,’ Cindy said. ‘Vin and I persuaded him. We want money! I’m sick of living like this! I’m sick of stealing every day. I want a big sum of money so I can enjoy myself and not go out dipping into people’s pockets.’
    Elliot lifted his eyebrows.
    ‘Is that what you do?’
    ‘Yes! Daddy does the same! Every day! And all we get out of it is a mingy two hundred a week.’
    ‘And what does he do apart from waving guns at people?’ Elliot asked, nodding towards Vin.
    ‘That’s my business!’ Vin barked. ‘You keep your mouth shut, Cindy! You’re talking too much!’
    ‘He’s a burglar,’ Cindy said, ignoring Vin.
    ‘An interesting trio.’ Elliot smiled at them. ‘I’m sorry I can’t help you. In my better days, I might have been tempted to give you fifty thousand, but you’ve arrived a little late.’ He got to his feet. ‘I must be on my way.’ He left the gun on the arm of the chair and moved to the door. ‘Take my tip . . . layoff the kidnapping racket. I don’t think you’re in that league.’
    ‘You’re right, Mr. Elliot,’ Joey said. He paused, hesitated, then blurted out, ‘You’re not planning to make trouble for us? I mean . . . the police?’
    ‘Of course