1951 - In a Vain Shadow (17 page)

‘I can’t say how sorry I am...’

‘Where’s the gun, Frank?’

His voice was as shaky as his hands.

I wondered if Emmie had had a suspicion of what actually had happened and had put him up to it. But I wasn’t so easily caught. I had cleaned and oiled the gun and reloaded it. I had done that the moment I got away from them. He was about an hour too late.

I gave the gun to him.

He must have been doubtful for he sniffed at the barrel, took out the clip and checked the cartridges. Then to my surprise, he dropped the gun into his pocket.

‘So you don’t even fire it, Frank?’

‘I know how you must feel, Mr. Sarek. But when I got out there he had gone.’

‘I might just as well have no bodyguard.’

‘I didn’t think they’d try to shoot you.’

He didn’t say anything.

‘If you think it’s my fault...’

‘Never mind. Is no good making excuses. I give you twenty pounds: that squares us, hey?’

‘I don’t want it. I didn’t earn it. I feel pretty bad about this, Mr. Sarek.’

He held out twenty one-pound notes.

‘Is what I owe you. I don’t need you anymore. Take it.’

‘I’m not taking it. I didn’t earn it, so to hell with it. I’m damned sorry you’re sore with me, Mr. Sarek. I know I talked big, but I didn’t expect them to take pot shots at you. No one could have prevented that.’

I could tell by the way he began to relax that he liked the idea of keeping the twenty pounds, as I knew he would like it. ‘You better have it!

‘No.’

He put the money into his pocket.

‘Well, you did go after him, I say that for you?’

He looked like nothing I’ve seen on this earth, lying there before the fire. The only thing you could see of his face was one beady black eye. The rest of his face was hidden by bandages. At least I had made a good job of that.

‘I suppose, after this, you’re going, Mr. Sarek?’

I took out my cigarette case and offered him one. He took it, had trouble in finding his mouth, but succeeded after lifting one of the bandage folds.

‘Yes; even Emmie want me to go now. She fix for me to catch the ten o’clock plane.’

I sat opposite him.

‘Perhaps it would be safer to wait until daylight.’

‘I go tonight.’

‘I’ll go with you to the airport.’

‘Is all right. Mrs. Sarek drives the car.’

That didn’t sound as if Emmie would be with them.

‘That’s a lonely drive. Anything could happen. I’ll sit at the back with the gun.’

He hesitated.

‘You sit at the back, but I have the gun.’

‘Please yourself...’

At least I was going with him.

While Rita and he were upstairs packing, the telephone bell rang. I answered it.

‘Is Mr. Sarek there? This is Miss Robinson.’

‘He’s busy. Can I take a message?’

‘Would you tell him the ten o’clock plane is delayed? It won’t take off until ten twenty. I know he hates being kept waiting.’

She was certainly trying to earn her last five-pound note.

‘I’ll tell him,’ and I hung up.

But I wasn’t going to tell him. I had had enough of waiting. I couldn’t touch him until he left the house. Once he put a foot outside I could take him. I would know then for certain he had the money on him.

Rita came in. Her face was chalk-white and her eyes sunken.

‘Who was that?’

‘Miss Robinson. She says the plane’s due of at nine forty instead of ten. You’d better tell him to hurry.’

She gave me a long suspicious stare and went out. I waited a moment, then slipped into the hall. I heard her tell him.

While I waited I checked over my plan. First the gun. That was essential. He would probably have it in his coat pocket.

The thing to do would be to say casually, ‘May I examine the gun for a moment? We don’t want it to jam.’ If it was said casually enough he might hand it over without thinking: if he didn’t, then I’d have to hit him. The moment he began to fall I had to turn on her. She was strong, quick and dangerous. I wouldn’t have to give her a second in which to recover. A solid punch on the side of her head should stun her long enough for me to get his coat of and search him. Then all I had to do was get into the car and vamoose. Once I was clear of the place there was nothing he could do to me: nor she either.

I was sweating now with excitement and nerves. I wished they would hurry up.

Then I heard a step on the stairs. She was corning down.

‘We’ll have to get a move on.’

She didn’t say anything. She was wearing a fur coat, no hat and blue slacks.

‘Is he coming...?’

I broke off. She had the gun in her hand. I felt a prickle run up my spine.

‘What have you got that for?’

She gave me a hard, curious look.

‘He can’t see very well, so I said I’d carry the gun. He wants you to drive.’

‘Maybe I had better have the gun.’

She pointed the gun at me in an absent-minded way as if she wasn’t aware what she was doing. But that fooled neither of us.

‘I’m keeping it!’

He came down the stairs and joined us.

‘We go. You go first, Mitchell, and see if is all right.’

‘I was saying perhaps I had better have the gun. Mr. Sarek.’

‘She want it.’

Well, that was that.

I went first. I didn’t like the way she handled the gun.

Something told me she wouldn’t need a lot of persuasion to shoot me.

The set-up had gone sour.

All the way along the broad, dark stretch of the arterial road I wondered. Did she guess what I was up to? Or was the whole thing a coincidences I hadn’t distinguished myself, so they weren’t taking chances with me? No more to it than they thought I was a dimwitted boaster who had failed to make good. I couldn’t see how I was going to get round this new development, and I was sick with rage and frustration.

He sat beside me, and the sleeve of his coat rested against my arm. She sat immediately behind me, and I knew she had the gun in her lap. No chance of pulling up and going for him, although the road was dark and lonely, and if she hadn’t had the gun it would have been easy.

Ahead of me I could see the airport lights. We had an hour before his plane took off. Well, anything could happen in an hour. I pulled up outside the reception hall.

‘Get Miss Robinson.’

‘You mean you want her out here?’

‘Yes.’

I got out of the car and went inside. Miss Robinson was leaning over the counter talking in her girl-guide way to a fat, elderly man who looked as if he was worth a million pounds.

She was quite a bright girl when it came to picking the boys with the money.

I went up to the counter.

‘When you have a minute. Miss Robinson.’

The fat character scowled at me, but I had disrupted what looked like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

‘I better not keep you, my dear.’

‘I’ll bring you your things, Mr. Oppenheimer, as soon as they arrive.’

He took himself off, but not before he had given me another scowl.

‘That’s a nice smooth line you hand out. Do you ever try it on the younger generation or is it strictly reserved for the old and moneyed?’

She went a nice shade of pink.

‘Is Mr. Sarek here?’

‘He’s right outside. Mrs. Sarek’s here too, so don’t be too gushing.’

She swept past me, her head high, her face scarlet. I trailed after her.

The sight of Sarek’s bandaged face shook her to her heels.

In that coat and black hat, he looked like something from a horror film.

‘Oh, Mr. Sarek, I’m so sorry. Are you in pain?’

‘Is all right.’ He sounded impatient. ‘I don’t want to be stared at, you understand? Take me to the plane at once. Mrs. Sarek, she will attend to the details.’

She started telling him he was much too early.

‘You have forty minutes to wait.’

‘Forty minutes. Is impossible!’ He flew into a rage. ‘What do you mean - forty minutes!’

‘But I phoned. Mr.-Mr.-’ She floundered.

‘Mitchell is the name. I know you phoned, but you said the plane would be twenty minutes early. Just because you happen to be a little off your usual bright beam, don’t try and push it of on to me!’

She was so astonished she could only open and shut her mouth without making a sound.

‘He’s lying,’ Rita said.

That’s what I hoped she would say.

‘That about does it!’ I said angrily. ‘All right, the whole bunch of you can go to hell! So long Mr. Sarek. You don’t need me anymore. You’ll be safe enough here. I’m going. I’ve better things to do than to listen to your wife calling me a liar,’ and without giving him a chance to say anything, and without looking at Rita I walked off towards the entrance gates.

I stood in the darkness and watched them. Miss Robinson was doing most of the talking. Rita still sat in the car. Sarek had got out. He kept waving his hands; he was almost dancing with rage.

It was pretty obvious Miss Robinson was trying to persuade him to go into the waiting hall, but he wouldn’t go. I didn’t blame him either. With the bandages and in that coat he would have started a riot.

Finally Rita got out of the car and slid under the steering wheel. Sarek got in beside her Miss Robinson went inside the reception building. There was a long wait, then Miss Robinson came out again and gave him some papers. She pointed to a distant plane standing under arc lights some five hundred yards away.

They talked some more, then Rita drove the car along the runway, towards the aircraft.

I moved out of the darkness and walked after them.

She parked the car near a hangar, about fifty yards from the aircraft. There was no one about, and I wondered if I could get near enough to start something. But she had parked the car under a light, and she would see me before I could reach the car.

I had still twenty-five minutes before the plane took off.

I got as close as I could and waited. Minutes ticked by, then Sarek suddenly got out of the car. I began to sweat, and my heart started to thump. He walked a few yards away from the car and looked to right and left, then he came back and said something to Rita.

I began to move slowly and silently towards them.

Finally he walked towards the hangar. Rita got out of the car and watched him. I kept moving, judging the distance, making sure I could cut him of the moment he reached the heavy shadows of the hangar.

He kept looking to right and left, but I knew he couldn’t see much because of the bandage. I was sure he wouldn’t spot me as I edged towards him. He reached the hangar. I was there, waiting. He paused within a yard of me, facing the hangar, not seeing me, and looked away from me.

I knew exactly what I was going to do. I had to stop him from yelling, and I had to be sure Rita hadn’t given him the gun.

As he began to unbutton his coat I took two short silent steps forward and was on him before he knew what was happening. He turned sharply, his breath coming out between clenched teeth in a frightened little hiss. My hand shot out and I had him by the throat. My left hand clamped down on his right wrist.

My fingers dug into his windpipe, cutting the air from his lungs. I had only to hold him like that for a few seconds and he’d lose consciousness. The Army had taught me how to put a man out by pressure on his windpipe, and I was confident I wouldn’t hurt him. But I hadn’t reckoned with his unexpected strength.

The moment my fingers sank into his windpipe he seemed to go of his head. His free hand whipped up and found my face. His fingernails tried to claw me, but I jerked back in time.

He kicked out, twisting away from me. It was like trying to hold an eel. I let go of his right wrist and grabbed his throat with both hands, slamming him against the wall. For three or four seconds he kicked, clawed at the air and struggled. His shoe caught me below the knee. The more he struggled the greater the pressure I put on his neck. I was getting into a panic. He should have been unconscious seconds ago. Apart from my breathing there wasn’t a sound to tell Rita what was happening.

Then suddenly I felt something give under my fingers and heard a soft snick! That made my hair stand on end: the unmistakable sound a small bone makes when it breaks.

Sarek suddenly went limp. His unexpected weight threw me forward. I let go of him and stepped back, my heart freezing.

He slid gently to the ground and lay in a heap at my feet.

‘What have you done?’

Rita was standing at my side.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I knew what I had done all right.

She bent over him while I waited.

There was a long silence while my blood curdled and my flesh began to creep.

Then she said it.

‘You’ve killed him, Frank.’

chapter fifteen

T
his was murder!

Not something to be read about in a newspaper while wondering how long it would be before the killer was caught.

Not an unknown individual who is hunted day and night, and finally taken to a police station with a coat thrown over his head. Not an impersonal sensation you forget almost as soon as you toss the paper aside. Not the remote thing that meant nothing; so little, in fact, that I once said I would take it in my stride. This was happening to me. This was real. Something I had done that no power on earth could undo: something I would have to pay for with my life.

Murder!

Something that turned me cold with a sick, horrible fear.

Something that would be with me for the rest of my life. From now on I wouldn’t have one second of peace. Any noise, any sudden movement, any voice calling me; a step outside my door, a shadow in the street, a creating stair would set my heart pounding and my legs running in a desperate attempt to escape. It would be me they would hunt, and when they caught me, I knew nothing would convince them I hadn’t meant to kill him. Not the cleverest, smartest counsel in the world would convince them of that.

‘Frank!’

‘Get away from me!’

‘Here; drink this.’

She put a leather-bound flask into my hand.

‘It’s brandy. Don’t lose your head, Frank. I’m going to help you.’ The mouth of the flask rattled against my teeth. I took a long drink. The spirit ran down my chin and into my collar.