Knock Knock Who's There? (21 page)
Read Knock Knock Who's There? Online
Authors: James Hadley Chase
Moving swiftly, he put the second cup away, then darted into his bedroom, snatched up his gun, pulled the sheet up over the bed, then darted into Scott's bedroom, the window of which gave a view onto the jetty.
He saw a dusty Lincoln parked at the foot of the jetty and from it spilled two men: one big, like an ape, the other small, white-faced with staring eyes. They both wore black suits, white shirts and white ties. They stood looking around, then they started across the jetty, taking their time as Johnny moved into the passage.
Freda, still in her shortie nightdress, was standing in the bathroom door.
"Trouble," Johnny said softly. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."
"No! Get out of sight!" Freda whispered fiercely. "I'll take care of it! Get in the closet and wait!"
She caught hold of his arm and shoved him towards the big closet. For a moment he hesitated, then when a knock sounded on the door, he slid into the closet and shut the door.
Freda ran into her bedroom, snatched up a wrap and struggled into it as the knock came again.
She braced herself, then went to the door and opened it. When she saw Bernie and Clive, she felt a rush of cold blood up her spine. But she kept control of herself.
"What do you want?"
Bernie, smelling of sweat, his moronic grin terrifying, moved forward, forcing her back.
"You, dolly-bird. We want to talk to you about Johnny."
But it was the other one Freda feared: the little, white-faced horror with his evil, sadistic eyes who followed behind the ape man.
"He's gone," she said.
They were now in the living-room and she had retreated to the far wall.
"Tell us about him, dolly-bird. We're looking for him," Bernie said.
"He left yesterday."
"That's what we heard." Bernie shuffled forward and snatched off her wrap leaving her in her shortie nightdress. "Yeah, we heard that," then he slapped her across her face so violently she bounced back against the wall and then sprawled on the floor. He reached down and tore off her nightdress, "but we don't believe it, dolly-bird. Feed us another story."
She lay naked at his feet, staring up at him.
"He went to Miami yesterday morning early," she said, her voice steady. "Get out of here, you apes!"
Bernie sniggered.
"Go ahead, Clive, work on her," he said. "When you're tired, I'll take over."
In the closet, Johnny listened. He quietly opened the closet door, gun in hand and moved into the passage. He was wearing only pyjama trousers, his feet were bare and he made no sound as he entered the living-room.
Clive had caught hold of Freda and had hauled her to her feet. He was setting himself to slap her as Johnny killed him.
The bang of the gun made Freda scream. She hid her face in her hands and dropped to her knees.
Clive, shot through the back of his head, heaved forward and fell.
Snarling, Bernie, groping for his gun, spun around to face Johnny who shot him through the face. The big man crashed down on top of Clive, his right arm catching Freda on the back of her neck as he fell. She sprawled on her face, then twisted and half sat up, staring at the two dead men, her eyes wide with horror, her mouth open in a soundless scream.
Dropping his gun, Johnny went to her, got her to her feet and half carried her, half dragged her into her bedroom: He laid her gently on the bed.
"Stay here. Don't think about a thing."
He ran into his room and struggled into his shirt and trousers. He slid his feet into his shoes, then he returned to the living-room.
Freda lay still, her eyes closed. She struggled with hard, dry, choking sobs. It seemed to her she lay there for a long time. She couldn't move. The horror of seeing the two men shot dead paralyzed her.
The sun was climbing and it came through the open window, hurting her eyes. She put her arm across her face, moaning.
She lay there, not caring, wanting only to believe this was a horrible nightmare.
Then a hand touched her gently.
"Let's go, baby," Johnny said. "Come on. This is where we duck out."
She opened her eyes and stared up at him.
"Go . . . where?"
"We have their car. It's our chance. We've got to go!"
He hauled her off the bed and she leaned against him.
"What's happened . . . those men?"
"Forget them. They're in the lake. Get dressed. We've got to hurry . . . every minute is important." She stood in a daze, staring at him.
"Come on, baby!" His voice sharpened. "Get dressed! You've got to pack! Hurry!"
"You killed them! I can't go with you! You killed them!"
"You can't not go with me," Johnny said. "Get dressed!"
Those words made an impact. She shuddered, then making an effort, she opened her closet and took from it the man's shirt and the stretch pants. Her closet was pathetically bare: a cheap cotton dress, a pair of worn Levis, a pair of broken-down shoes.
She pulled on her panties and the stretch pants. "You want to take any of this other junk?"
"No."
"Come on." He waited until she had put on the shirt and run a comb through her hair, then he led her into the living-room. "You've got to write a letter to Ed. Got any writing paper?"
Shaking, she sat at the table.
"In that drawer."
He found a block of cheap notepaper and an envelope. He found a biro.
"Write this: Dear Ed. I'm sick of it here. I'm going with Johnny. We love each other, Freda."
Somehow she wrote the note, her hand shaking. Johnny put it in the envelope and laid it on the table.
"Let's go!"
He picked up his suitcase and, taking her by her arm, he hurried her across the jetty to the Lincoln.
As he started the motor, he looked at his strap watch. The time was o6.4o. At best, he thought, they had a three hour start before Luigi would begin to wonder where the two apes had got to. Then he would investigate, phone, and the organization would swing into action.
In a car like this you could go some way in three hours.
Driving steadily, with Freda still in shock at his side, he headed for the freeway.
TEN
They had been driving for over an hour in silence. Johnny kept the car moving but he was careful to keep just under the speed limit. He knew it would be a disaster for both of them if they were stopped by a speed cop. He longed to let the powerful car out and put more mileage behind him, but he restrained him- self.
He by-passed Daytona Beach, anxious not to get snarled up in any heavy traffic, and kept on up highway 1, heading north. As he drove, his mind was active. From time to time, he glanced at Freda who was staring through the windshield, her face white, her eyes blank. He could see the shock was still hitting her. Well, now they were out in the open, he thought and in a stolen car. He was safe enough for another two hours, then he would have to get rid of the car.
All kinds of problems crowded in on him, but he refused to be panicked. They now knew he was wearing a beard so that had to come off. They knew he wore khaki drill. He would have to change his clothes. Salvadore would give them a description of Freda. He looked at her blonde, silky hair. That was like a beacon to anyone hunting for them. That would have to be fixed.
Suddenly she said, "Where are we going?"
He drew in a deep breath of relief.
"How are you feeling, baby?"
"I'm all right." Her voice was shaky. "Where are we going?"
"We're driving north. We have another two hours before they start wondering. In two hours we'll be at St. David's Bay. We'll stop there. It's a vacation town: packed with tourists and cars. We'll have to get rid of this car. Don't worry. Take it easy. Leave it to me."
"Oh, Johnny, I'm frightened!" She put her hand on his thigh. "Did you have to kill them?"
"I warned you, baby, this is the Mafia. You kill or get killed," Johnny said quietly. "I still think we have a chance. I'll tell you now: there's $186,000 in those bags. I'm telling you because you are now in this mess as much as I am. I'm sorry, but you are and you've got to realize it. There's still a good chance we can get the money and get away with it."
"A hundred and eighty-six thousand!" Her voice shot up. "But, Johnny, that's a fortune!"
"That's it. Well, you know now. It's a gamble: our lives against that money. If I get it, we'll share it. I mean that."
"So what do we do?"
"When we get to St. David's Bay, go to a hairdresser and get them to tint your hair any colour you like, but the word will have gone out to look for a blonde. I'll get this beard off. We've got to buy clothes. I've got the money. You don't have to worry about that. Then we've got to ditch this car. We'll take a Greyhound bus to Brunswick. There we'll hole up and wait. We have enough money. We can wait two months if we have to. Then when my contact in East City tells me the heat is off, we go collect the money."
"Do you think we'll get it?"
"If we don't, we're dead," he said, knowing this was the truth.
It was 09.50 when they drove into St. David's Bay. Johnny saw a vast free car park by the beach crammed with cars and caravans.
"This is where we ditch the car." He drove into the car park. It took him several minutes to find a space, but he found one. "From now on we walk."
He unlocked his suitcase and took out what was left of Sammy's money.
"This is how much we have got," he said and counted the money while she watched him. "Two thousand, eight hundred and fiftyseven dollars. I want you to see this, baby. I want you to know that from now on we are together, partners." He counted out a thousand and handed her the bills. "You have this, just in case something happens to me. Go find a hairdresser and get your hair fixed, then buy clothes. Don't spend much. We could have to live on this for some time. Be careful what you buy: nothing that'll catch the eye. We'll be husband and wife. I've been thinking. We two are on vacation, travelling Greyhound and seeing the country. I'm giving you the background. We take a room in some little hotel in Brunswick. You tell them I've a bad heart and I have to take it easy. We won't go out much. You think it was a mistake for us to come so far. I'm in need of a rest. We sign in as Mr. and Mrs. Henry Jackson from Pittsburgh. This is only rough thinking. We'll polish it later."
She put the money he had given her in her bag, then she looked at him.
"While I'm getting my hair fixed, Johnny, do you plan to leave me?"
This shocked him. For a long moment, he stared at her, then smiled.
"Ask yourself. It's only in oneself that one knows trust, baby."
Closing the suitcase, he got out of the car.
She joined him.
"I'm sorry." She touched his arm. "I've known so many men. I'm so sick of myself! I don't know who to trust."
"If you can't trust me by now, baby," he said gently, "then you're in real trouble. Come on, let's go."
They walked into the town. Although it was early, the tourists were out in force, heading for the beach. Half-way down the Main street, Johnny spotted the Greyhound bus station.
"We meet there." He pointed. "Be as quick as you can. I'll wait for you . . . you wait for me. Okay?"
She hated him leaving her.
"Johnny . . . I'm scared to be on my own . . . really scared."
He smiled at her.
"But, baby, we're always alone. I've been alone all my life and so have you. Just get your hair fixed and buy some clothes. You'd better buy a hold-all." He looked around. "Up there on the left: a Ladies' hairdressers. Get your hair fixed first."
"Yes." She forced a smile. "See you, Johnny."
"That's one thing you can be sure of."
They parted and Johnny went in search of a barber.
Luigi was occupied with his Maitre d'hotel, arranging the menu for the following day when his telephone bell rang. The time was 11.05. He reached for the receiver as he said, "Give 'em duck. We've got too many ducks in the freezer." Then into the mouthpiece, he said, "Who is it?"
"This is Joe!" Massino's voice was tight with rage. "What's happening? I've been waiting! What did that whore say?"
Luigi stiffened. He had been so occupied with the routine work of his restaurant, he had completely forgotten he had sent Bernie and Clive out to Little Creek.
"Still waiting, Joe. I should hear any minute. The moment I hear I'll call you back."
"What the hell are those punks doing?" Massino bawled. "Get me some action!" and he hung up.
Luigi was now worried. He had told those two to see the girl at o6.00. Five hours ago! He snatched up the receiver. "Get Capello here!" he barked, cut the connection, then dialled Salvadore's number. "What's going on?" he demanded. "Bernie and Clive were supposed to see this whore at six this morning. What's happening?"
"I don't know." Salvadore said. "I haven't seen them. Hold for a moment." After a minute or so, he came back on the line. "Just looked at the houseboat through my glasses. No sign of life."
"I'm sending Capello. Go with him and find out what's happening." Luigi's voice was now a snarl. "Call me back pronto."
An hour later, as Little Creek's church clock was striking twelve, Toni arrived at the store in a car Luigi had lent him. Salvadore was waiting for him.
"What gives?" Salvadore asked.
"I don't know. We've got to get over there and find out."
They climbed into Salvadore's boat and headed across the lake to the houseboat. Toni was first on deck, gun in hand. He was sweating and he had a hell of a headache from his heavy drinking the previous evening. Salvadore tied up and joined him. They went through the deserted houseboat, then Toni saw an envelope lying on the table. He opened it and read the message.
"Hey! Look at this! That bastard was here all the time! They've gone off together!"
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