the Santa Monica traffic, but he didn’t feel right about the whole thing. With a slight twist he could see Topper’s face in the rear-view mirror and the sight made his skin crawl. The face was pale, showing the red lips like raw flesh, and two ugly lines curved around the corners of the mouth. Nick couldn’t make out Topper’s eyes. They were closed, mostly, with only a wet glitter showing through the lashes.

When the car reached the end of Wilshire, Nick turned right on Ocean Drive. The sharp turn threw Topper to the left so that his head moved out of line with the mirror. Then Nick saw Catell lurch into his line of vision. Only the top of his head showed, sticky with blood.

The car straightened out and shot north. Topper pushed Catell back into the other corner of the seat by jabbing his knuckles painfully into Catell’s ribs. Catell didn’t seem to notice. He was still out.

“Reach me a light, Nick.”

Topper took the car lighter and put it to his cigarette. When he was through the thing was still red, and slowly Topper pushed it into the limp man’s neck. At first there was no reaction from Catell, but suddenly he started to twitch and a dry snore rattled out of his slack mouth. He didn’t wake up, though.

“Take the light, Nick.”

They drove in silence for a while.

“Lend me one of your fags, Topper?”

“When you gonna start carrying your own? Here.”

“Thanks.” After a deep drag Nick said, “Still going through with it?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Just asking.”

“Let’s have that pack.” Nick handed it back. “And the light.”

Topper lit his cigarette and gave the lighter back to Nick. A hot sun beat down on the highway, making the inside of the car like a steam bath. The windows stayed closed. Nick pulled his tie open by yanking the shirt collar away from his wet neck, but he didn’t open the window. Topper didn’t like to smoke with the wind blowing in his face.

After a while, Topper asked for the lighter again. He didn’t like to light one cigarette from another.

“Boss.”

“What?”

“Boss, listen. You nervous?”

“What’s eating you, damnit? Spill it and shut up.”

“Topper, now don’t blow your top, but this is all wrong. You can’t afford it, Topper, I know.”

“Nick, what do I have to do to shut you up, damn it? Stop riding me or I’ll—”

“Yeah, I know, Topper. You can do all kinds of things. But there’s one thing you can’t do, and I’m going to say it anyway. You can’t buck Smith. If you rub out Catell, you’re bucking Smith.”

“Shut your crazy mouth and drive.”

“Smith is counting on Catell for the job. If he finds out—and he will, you know—”

“To hell with Smith. To hell with your crazy talk, you stinking sonofabitch. Just do what I tell you.”

Catell woke up with a sharp painful start, the light of the sun and the thick cigarette smoke stinging his eyes, his head a big bursting throb that jangled his senses at the slightest move. Topper sat next to him, a gun in his hand.

When the car turned into a dirt road Catell was just starting to think clearly. When the car bumped to a halt, hidden by the walls of a quarry, Catell knew for sure.

This was it.

“When you step out, Catell, don’t stumble or anything. I’m right behind you.” Topper jabbed the gun into Catell’s ribs.

All three of them stood in the empty quarry, in the hot dust, looking at each other. The bright light made the shadows on their faces black and sharp, giving all of them the same expression. They stood without talking. The man who had driven the car started to push a stone around with his foot, not looking at anybody. Catell licked his dry lips, his brain a useless mess of pain, fear, and hate.

Then Topper started to smile. He held it so long that Catell thought time had stood still, or perhaps he was going out of his mind.

“Walk to the wall, Catell.”

Catell walked. If Topper had told him to stumble, to hop on one leg, anything, he would have done it. He wasn’t in a trance any more. His pain-sharpened senses raced for a clue, a sign, a hope, scanning the scene for that inevitable last chance.

“Stop.”

Catell stopped.

“Turn around.”

With his back to the baked wall of the quarry, Catell looked the way he had come. It wasn’t very far. Topper stood with his gun in his hand. Then he raised the gun and took