1953 - I'll Bury My Dead (29 page)

‘Is this on the level?’ Leon demanded.

‘Of course it is! Now how do I collect the dough?’

Leon went over to the desk by the window, pulled a sheet of notepaper from a pigeonhole and scribbled a note. He handed it to her.

‘Give that to Crail. Tell him what you’ve told me, and he’ll pay you.’

‘If he doesn’t . . .’

‘He’ll do it. Maybe not tonight, but first thing in the morning. You’ll still have twelve hours’ start. I promise you that.’

‘Do I go there now?’

‘Better wait until the morning. He can’t lay his hands on seven grand tonight.’

‘If I’m going, I’m going now. Maybe he can give me something, and send on the rest.’

‘Please yourself,’ Leon said, making for the door. I’ve got things to do.’

When he had gone, she stood, thinking, her eyes worried, then she went swiftly into the bedroom, pulled out two suitcases from under her bed and began to pack hurriedly. She packed only essential things, and threw them anyhow into the cases.

For the past days she had read in the newspaper of the succession of mysterious deaths, and she guessed Sherman had been responsible for them. She had decided before Leon’s visit to leave town. Now, she was in a panic to get away before the police tied her in with Sherman. She didn’t altogether trust Leon. If Crail gave her a thousand, she would be content with that so long as she could leave town that night. Her one thought now was to get away before trouble overtook her.

Without bothering to change out of her sweater and slacks, she pulled on a fur coat, picked up her two suitcases and went swiftly to the front door. She jerked it open, and then came to an abrupt stop, her heart skipping a beat.

Sherman was standing in the passage, his hands in his mackintosh pockets, water dripping from his hat brim, his jaws moving slowly, his eyes expressionless.

‘Hello, Gloria,’ he said quietly.

She didn’t say anything.

‘Running away?’ he went on, his eyes going to the two cases.

‘What do you mean?’ she managed to get out, ‘I’m only going away for the weekend.’

‘But not coming back?’ he said. ‘Got cold feet, Gloria?’

‘Why should I have cold feet?’ she said, struggling to keep her voice steady. ‘What’s the matter with you? Can’t I go away for a weekend without you imagining things?’

He shrugged.

‘I don’t care where you go, Gloria, but you are running away, aren’t you?’

‘Of course I’m not!’ she said with unnecessary vehemence. ‘What’s the matter with you? It’s you who have got cold feet.’

Sherman smiled.

‘Can I come in a moment? I want to talk to you.’

‘I - I don’t want to miss my train.’

He moved toward her, and she gave ground. He entered the sitting room. Slowly, as if hypnotized, she put the two suitcases on the floor and leaned against the wall, watching him.

‘You don’t have to run away Gloria,’ he said, moving about the room. ‘I’ve got English where I want him. He can’t cause trouble now. The police are looking for him. He shot his mistress.’

She didn’t say anything. Her eyes followed him as he moved over to the window.

‘It looked at first as if he could stop me,’ Sherman went on, ‘but it’s all right now. How are you off for money, Gloria? I think I owe you something, don’t I?’

‘I’m all right,’ she said huskily. ‘I - I don’t need anything at the moment.’

He smiled at her.

‘First time I’ve ever known you to say that. Perhaps you’re scared of taking my money now, Gloria? You don’t have to be.’

‘If you’ve got it, I’ll have it,’ she said, ‘but I’m not hard up.’

‘No, I don’t suppose you are.’ He had stopped by the window and was examining the curtain cord. ‘Now this is an odd coincidence. I’ve been looking for a cord like this for weeks. You may not believe it, but I can’t find this exact shade anywhere.’ He took the cord off the hook and appeared to examine it closely. ‘Do you remember where you got it?’

‘From Sackville’s,’ Gloria said, watching him uneasily.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked, moving casually toward her. ‘I think I tried there.’

She looked at the cord, seeing it now hanging in a loop between his fingers and she tried to screw herself into the wall, her eyes opening wide with terror.

‘Keep away from me!’ she said in a tight, strangled voice.

‘What’s the matter?’ Sherman asked, smiling at her. ‘What’s frightening you? Don’t tell me, Gloria, you of all people, are suffering from a guilty conscience?’

He was within a few feet of her now. She suddenly threw herself blindly across the room to the door. He went after her with quick silent steps, and as she reached the door, he dropped the loop over her head.

Her frantic scream of terror was throttled back into her throat as he crossed his hands and tightened the cord.

II

A
s Sam Crail got out of his car, the shadowy figure of a man came out of the darkness.

‘Sam?’

‘Why, Nick!’ Crail looked uneasily to the right and left, scared anyone might be watching. ‘What the hell are you doing here? What happened?’

‘Let’s get inside,’ English said, his voice tense.

Crail snapped off the car’s headlight, and then led the way up the dark path to his house. He opened the door, and English followed him into the lobby. Helen Crail came out of the lounge. She was a tall, willowy girl with light brown hair and shrewd, friendly eyes. English had often wondered why she had married Crail. He thought she was too good-looking to have hooked up with a fat, middle-aged attorney like Sam. But in spite of the disparity of age and looks, they seemed to get on well together.

‘Come in by the fire Nick,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘I’ll get you a drink.’

‘No, please don’t Helen,’ English said. ‘I’m all right. Mind if I talk business to Sam, but don’t go away.’

Helen looked swiftly at Crail, who shook his head.

‘Heard from Ed yet?’ English asked.

‘I’ve heard from him,’ Crail returned, following English into the big, brightly lit lounge. He took off his coat and dropped it in a chair. ‘Take your coat off. You re sopping wet.’ As English took off his coat, Crail went on, ‘What happened to you? I went down to headquarters and waited. Captain Swinney hadn’t any information. He said there was a call out for you, but he had no report on you. I didn’t tell him you’d been found. Did you give them the slip?’

English smiled grimly.

‘Eventually. Morilli staged a private arrest for his own benefit. What’s happened to Lois?’

‘I don’t know. Ed’s looking for her. He said he was calling me back in an hour. He should come through at any minute now.’

Helen took English’s coat and hung it in the lobby.

‘Did he say what he found when he arrived at Corrine’s place?’ English asked.

Crail nodded.

‘Yes. Sherman had been there. He strangled Corrine. Lois had been there, too. Ed found her handkerchief, but we don’t know if Sherman has her or not.’

English clenched his fists, his pale face hardening.

‘He’s got to be stopped, Sam! This can’t go on. I’ve got to find him.’

‘Now look, you’re in a bad spot yourself,’ Crail said anxiously. ‘You should have given yourself up when Morilli came for you. Running away from him . . .’

‘I didn’t run away from him. I let him arrest me,’ English said as Helen came back into the lounge. He took me for a one-way ride. If Chuck hadn’t spotted us leaving and got himself a ride on the rear bumper I’d be in the morgue by now.’

Crail stared at him.

‘You aren’t serious?’

‘You bet I’m serious. Morilli made no bones about it. He was scared I’d talk. He was about to shoot me when Chuck appeared like a hero in a second feature movie. And that’s the kind of treatment I’d get if I gave myself up. I told you how it would be. They’ll frame me into the chair if I give them half a chance.’

Crail wiped his face with his handkerchief.

‘I’ll go to the commissioner right now and tell him,’ he said. ‘He’ll have to listen to me. Where did you say you’ve left Morilli?’

‘Hampton Wharf,’ English told him. ‘Chuck is with him. Take a newspaperman with you, Sam. It’s a good idea. Maybe Morilli will give himself away.’

‘Leave it to me,’ Crail said, putting on his coat again. ‘In the meantime, you stay here, Nick, and keep out of sight. I’ll fix that rat Morilli!’

‘You’re harbouring a criminal,’ English pointed out. ‘Maybe I’d better move on, Sam.’

‘You stay here! See that he does, Helen,’ Crail said. ‘They won’t think to look here for you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

When he had gone out to the garage, Helen said, ‘You’re worrying about Lois, aren’t you, Nick?’

He nodded.

‘If that devil’s killed her . . .’

‘You mustn’t think like that,’ she said soothingly. ‘Sit down and rest. Ed will find her. He’s a good man, Nick.’

‘But the police are looking for him now and he doesn’t know it. Morilli put out a call for him. He might walk into trouble, and then what’ll happen to Lois?’

‘Trust him to keep out of trouble,’ she returned. ‘If anyone can find her, he will.’

English flopped down in an armchair.

‘If only I knew where Sherman was,’ he said angrily. ‘I can’t go looking all over the town. I’d be picked up within minutes.’

‘Ed said he was going to talk to some girl - Windsor I think he said her name was. He thought she might know where Sherman was.’

English’s face brightened.

‘I’d forgotten her. Ed thinks she’s working with Sherman. I wonder if he got anywhere with her.’

‘He’ll call in a little while,’ Helen said.

‘He may be with her now,’ English said, jumping to his feet. ‘I might get him on the phone.’

He went over to the telephone and ruffled through the pages of the directory until he found Gloria Windsor’s number. He dialled and waited, listening with growing impatience to the ringing tone. He waited for a minute or so, then replaced the receiver.

‘No answer. Maybe she’s out and he hasn’t talked to her yet.’ He looked at his watch. ‘When I think of Lois . . .’ He drove his fist into his palm. ‘Damn it! I must do something! I can’t just sit and wait!’

‘Take it easy Nick,’ Helen said. ‘You’ve got to rely on Ed. He’ll find her.’

‘It’s all very well.’ He broke off and smiled crookedly at her. ‘You know I’ve been a mug about Lois, Helen. I didn’t realize what she means to me until I’d lost her.’

‘Aren’t we all mugs sometimes?’ she returned gently. ‘I’m glad Nick. She’s been good to you.’

‘I know. Well, if she’s alive, I’ll make up for it.’

‘Listen!’ Helen said sharply, holding up her hand.

They heard the sound of a fast moving car, coming down the street. A moment later it pulled up outside the house with a squeal of tortured tires.

As English moved to the window, Helen pushed him aside.

‘You must keep out of sight, Nick. It may be the police,’ she said sharply. ‘Let me see.’

She lifted the shade, then turned swiftly, her face alight with excitement.

‘It’s Ed!’ she exclaimed, and ran across the room to the front door.

Leon was about to ring the bell when Helen opened the door. He was soaked with rain, and there was an anxious, harassed look in his eyes.

‘Sam in?’ he asked.

‘Come in,’ Helen said. ‘Nick’s here.’

‘Nick! Well, I’ll be damned. I thought he was in jail.’

He stepped into the lobby as English came out of the sitting room.

‘What a break!’ Leon said. ‘I’d given you up as lost.’

‘Where’s Lois?’ English demanded.

‘I’m not sure yet. I came here for some money. I’ve got to hire a boat. Sherman has a yacht six miles off Bay Creek. It’s my bet Lois is on board. They want a hundred bucks for a motorboat to take me out there. Have you got a hundred bucks?’

‘Of course I have,’ English said. ‘I’m coming with you.’

‘Better not. The cops are still looking for you.’

‘They’re looking for you, too,’ English said. ‘Morilli’s put a call out for you. He’s trying to pin Corrine’s murder on you. Come on, let’s get going!’

He struggled into his overcoat.

‘How far is Bay Creek?’ he asked.

‘About three miles from here,’ Leon said, opening the front door.

‘Tell Sam where I’ve gone,’ English said to Helen. ‘And thanks for putting up with me.’

‘Good luck Nick,’ Helen said, her eyes anxious. ‘And be careful.’

English went down the path after Leon and got into the waiting car.

Leon sent the car shooting down the deserted street.

‘I got the Windsor girl to talk,’ he told English, but it’s going to cost you seven grand, and it may come to nothing. All the same I imagine Sherman will take Lois to the yacht if he takes her anywhere. What happened to you?’

‘Morilli took me for a ride. If Chuck hadn’t turned up I shouldn’t be here now,’ English said.

Leon glanced swiftly at him.

‘You mean he was going to knock you off?’

‘That was the idea. He was scared I’d talk. Besides, getting rid of me would have earned him a promotion. Where’s this Bay Creek, Ed?’

‘You know the golf club? A mile farther on is Bay Creek. There’s a boathouse there. I’ve seen the yacht. It’s anchored about six miles out in the estuary. Someone’s on board. Lights are showing, but the guy who owns the motorboat wouldn’t play unless I paid him the hundred. I nearly went crazy trying to persuade him, but the louse wouldn’t budge. So I had to come back to

Sam for the dough.’

English glanced over his shoulder.

‘There’s a car after us, Ed!’ he said, his voice sharpening.

Leon promptly shoved his foot hard down on the gas pedal.

‘Cops?’

‘Could be. Maybe they spotted your number. I told you they were on the lookout for you.’

‘I can’t hope to shake a prowl car in this old heap,’ Leon said uneasily. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘Can we lose them?’

‘Not in this district.’ He looked in the driving mirror. ‘Hell! They’re coming up fast!’

‘You stall them, Ed. I’m going after Lois. Get around the next corner, slow down and let me drop off. I’ll take my chance of giving them the slip.’

‘They’re right behind us,’ Leon said, and shoved the gas pedal to the boards. The car surged forward at over sixty miles an hour, and the car behind fell back a little. ‘Hang on tight. I’m going to take the next corner.’