Strictly For Cash (28 page)

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Authors: James Hadley Chase

BOOK: Strictly For Cash
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"Ginny, it's me. Come on, darling, we've got to get out of here!"
Her head dropped back and her eyelids lifted. Recognition slowly came into her eyes and she touched my face.
"Where have you been, Johnny?" she said huskily. "I waited and waited. I moved in here, hoping you'd come back. It's been so long."
"I'll tell you about it later. Come on, kid, we've got to get out of here. We've got to get out of town. I have a car outside."
"Where are we going?" She sat up, her land going to her torn dress.
"We can decide that as we go. We've got to hurry."
She shivered.
"Where is that awful little man? Who is he?"
I pulled her to her feet. Her knees buckled and she would have fallen if I hadn't supported her.
"Don't worry about anything. I've taken care of him. Let's get out of here."
"No!" She tried to push away from me, but I held her. "I'm not going with you until I know what all this means. Why do we have to leave? Send for the police, Johnny. Get the police here. Why should we run away?"
"You don't understand, Ginny," I said, trying to control my impatience. Every second we wasted now made our getaway more difficult. "We can't go to the police. The police captain is in this too. We must get out of here!"
Sudden fear jumped into her eyes. "What is all this talk of money about?" she asked breathlessly. "What money, Johnny?"
I knew at once it would be fatal to tell her about the money. Later, perhaps, but certainly not now. She might not understand that it was mine by right: she might even think I had stolen it.
"He's mistaking me for someone else," I said. "Now come on, Ginny. I'll tell you about it in the car."
"He kept asking me about the money," Ginny said wildly. "He said you had stolen it from the casino."
"He's lying. Now, come on, darling. He may be back any moment. He's dangerous. We must get out of here!"
"Johnny, did you steal it?"
"Of course I didn't."
"Word of honour?"
"Yes, word of honour. It's all a mistake. Come on, Ginny, let's go"
"You'll have to help me. I can't walk far."
I drew in a quick gasp of relief.
"You're not going to walk at all. I'm going to carry you," I said, and took her in my arms.
She put her arm round my neck.
"I've been so frightened, Johnny. I've missed you so."
"It's all going to be all right," I said. "In a week, darling, you'll have forgotten this ever happened."
I went to the front door and opened it.
Captain of Police Hame stood just outside. He had a .45 in his hand and he rode me back into the room, his blue eyes like chips of ice.

III

I set Ginny down in the armchair and raised my hands as Hame moved into the room, closing the door with his foot.

"Looks as if I've caught up with you at last," he said. The .45 centred on my chest. Ricca lived long enough to tell me you killed him. You're getting as dangerous as a mad dog, Farrar."
I heard Ginny catch her breath in a horrified gasp.
"Now look ..." I began, but Hame stopped me.
"I got proof you killed Reisner and the Wertham woman, and now Ricca," he went on. "That's one murder too many. Back up against that wall!"
I knew what he was going to do. I could read it in his eyes. He couldn't afford to let me stand trial. I knew too much about him. The easiest out for him was to put a slug into me while resisting arrest.
My eyes went to Ginny. She was staring at me: her face was white and horrified.
Hame followed my glance.
"And you too," he said to her. "You're in this. Back up against the wall with him!"
She would have to go, too. He wouldn't want a witness to my killing.
"Wait, Hame!" I said. "We can do a deal."
"Back up against that wall!" he snarled at me. "I'm not making any deals with you. I don't have to!"
"You don't have to, but you will," I said, speaking fast, knowing any second he might shoot. "I've got half the casino's reserve: a quarter of a million dollars!"
That held him, as I knew it would hold him. His eyes flickered.
"You don't bluff me, Farrar," he said in a grating voice, "and you don't talk yourself out of this," but there wasn't any conviction in his voice.
"Turn us both loose and I'll split it with you. A hundred and twenty-five grand in cash!"
"Where is it?"
"Where you won't get your hooks into it without my say so," I said. "This is cash, Hame. Money that can't be traced. All I want is three hours to get clear, Is it a deal?"
"I wouldn't make a deal with you unless I saw the money," he said.
"You can see it, but I want your word you'll turn us loose with a three-hour start when you get the money."
A thin, sneering smile came to his sun-burned face.
"I take the lot, Farrar. You haven't a thing to bargain with. I'll take the lot and you can have an hour's start."
"No! I'll give you two hundred grand. I've got to have something. I've got to have a getaway stake, and I want three hours."
"The lot or I'll put a slug into both of you and take a chance of finding the money." He was grinning now. "Please yourself. I told you you have nothing to bargain with, and you haven't."
I had intended to play with him. I was ready and willing to buy Ginny's and my freedom for half the money, but he wasn't taking the lot. I'd worked too hard for that money to part with all of it. There was only one way out of this. I had to catch him off his guard and kill him.
"Give me five grand," I said, making out I was frantic. "I've got to have a getaway stake."
"Maybe," he said, still grinning. "Where is it?"
I realized he'd shoot me the moment he got the money. Once again I was being jostled into murder.
"I'd be a fool to tell you, wouldn't I? As soon as you know what's to stop you shooting me?"
He tried to keep a straight face.
"My word."
"What's the use of that to me?"
He grinned then.
"Well, suggest something."
I nodded to Ginny.
"She can get it and bring it here."
"Suppose she doesn't come back?"
"She will. She loves me. Do you think she wants me to get shot?"
All the time I was talking, Ginny had sat motionless, staring at me. Now when I turned to her, she flinched away.
"Go on," I said to her. "Get the money and hurry." I reached forward and offered her the key of my car. "The car's around the back. It won't take you long."
She crouched in the chair, and the look she gave me sent a chill up my spine.
"Ginny! Please do what I say. This is the only way out for you. Get the money, and it'll be all right." I tried to make her understand I was offering her escape.
"No," she said. "I'm not having anything to do with it. You did steal that money, didn't you?"
"It belonged to me, Ginny," I said desperately. "I can't explain now..."
"Of course he stole it," Hame cut in. "It's money belonging to the casino."
"Oh, Johnny, how could you?" she said, wringing her hands. "How could you get me into a thing like this? You've bed to me all along. When you didn't come to Miami as you promised, I phoned the insurance people you talked about and they said you'd never worked for them. Ever since we first met you've lied to me." She pounded on the arm of the chair with her fist. "I'm not going to be dragged into this! And don't talk to me of love!"
I was sweating now.
"You've got to get that money! Don't you understand he'll shoot both of us if you don't go? Take this key and get out!"
"Oh no," Hame said. "Not if that's the way she feels about you. She stays here. We'll start from the beginning again."
Around the half-open kitchen door I saw the white cat come in. "Then let me go," I said my muscles tightening. "She means everything to me. I'll come back. You can trust me to come back."
"No woman's worth a quarter of a million. We'll all go."
The cat brushed against his trouser leg. He hadn't seen it come in, and feeling something against his leg startled him. He looked down with an oath.
I was waiting for that moment. I sprang at him, my right hand grabbing at his gun arm, my left at his throat.
The gun went off with a crash that rattled the windows. Hame staggered back, then went down with me on top of him. I fastened on to his wrist and smashed his gun hand down on the floor. The gun went off again, but it fell from his hand.
For a minute or so we fought like a couple of animals. He was as strong as a bull, and knew every dirty trick in the box. We rolled to and fro, upsetting the furniture, while we punched, kneed and butted each other. It was like getting tangled up with a buzz-saw, trying to hold him.
He got his hands on my throat and began to squeeze. He had a grip like a monkey-wrench, and the air was cut off from my lungs. I clubbed him on the bridge of his nose and flattened it, crashing the back of his head on the floor. For a second or so he was dazed and the strength went out of his hands. I tore his fingers from my throat, twisted clear, crawled up on hands and knees. He was up on his feet a shade after I had straightened up. His face was a snarling mask of blood which poured from his broken nose.
At long range I knew I could take him, but hugged in those iron muscles he could lick me. I had to keep clear of him.
Maybe he had forgotten I was a boxer. He didn't act as if he thought I knew how to fight. He rushed at me, his arms reaching out for my waist, to bring me down into another murderous clawing wrestle on the floor. But I had had enough of that. I slipped to one side and jolted my right in his face. That hurt him, but it didn't stop him. He was tough. It'd take more than a slam in the face to put him down.

He came at me again, and this time I went in at him. We met like two charging bulls, I felt his hands grab my coat front. I grinned into his savage, blood-soaked face, then I brought over the left hook: the same punch that had broken MacCready's jaw, that had floored Waller, that had put paid to the Miami Kid. It landed flush on the side of his jaw and I felt the jar run up my arm. I didn't care. He was out long before he hit the floor.

Gasping for breath I turned to look for Ginny, but she wasn't there.
"Ginny!"
I rushed into the passage. The front door stood open. Turning, I ran back into the sittingroom and to the window.
I saw her running down the long drive towards the gates. She was staggering as she ran, and she was holding her hands in her face. I leaned out of the window.
"Ginny! Wait for me!"
But she didn't look round, although she must have heard me. She kept running, and beyond her, at the gates I saw two prowl cars swing to the kerb. Two cops tumbled out of the first car and started up the drive. She ran slap into them She was falling as she reached then, and one of them caught her and lowered her to the ground. Two more prowl boys spilled out of the second car and came pounding up the drive.
They looked up and saw me. I was looking at Ginny. There was a tightness in my throat and a sick, empty feeling inside me. I had a premonition I was looking at her for the last time. Then I turned and ran into the kitchen.
Benno lay stiff in death, his fat, vicious face seemed to snarl at me. I jumped over him, climbed into the box elevator and loosened the brake.
Seconds later I was running down the weed-covered path to the back gate. No one fired at me. I jerked open the gate and scrambled into the waiting Packard. I was shooting down the narrow alley that led to the boulevard when I heard police whistles. At least I had a car under me, and a fast car at that.
Where was I to go? The general alarm would be out in a few minutes, and every patrol car would be looking for me.
Who would hide me from the police? I thought of fat Zoe Eisner who ran the Liberty Inn on Bay Street. If I could reach her I might buy a hide-out.
I headed for Bay Street.
Half-way down Lincoln Avenue that runs parallel with Lincoln Beach's main street, I spotted a cop ahead, looking towards me from the sidewalk. He began waving at me. I shoved down the accelerator and the Packard surged forward.
The cop ran out into the street. He had a gun in one hand and a night-stick in the other. The people on the sidewalk stopped to stare. He was a pretty brave cop, but at the very last second he jumped aside. His night-stick came hurtling at me, and instinctively I ducked my head. The stick smashed a jagged hole in the windshield, I heard shooting behind me and felt the thumps of slugs as they made holes in the back panel of the car.
I kept on, switched the car around the corner and came out on to the wide boulevard that runs the length of the promenade and terminates at the gates of the casino.
I wouldn't get far now with a smashed windshield. Already people on the sidewalks were staring at the car as I shot it towards the big underground car-park.
I pulled up behind a line of parked cars at the bottom of a brilliantly lighted ramp. I was out of the car and opening the boot when a white-coated attendant came up. I saw his eyes go to the smashed windshield.
"What happened to that?" he asked
"Hit a bird," I said, hauling out the suitcase. "I'll be back ..."
I saw his eyes light on the bullet holes in the back panel. I closed my fist and smashed it at his jaw. He went down, his head bouncing off the fender.
I looked to right and left. At the far end of the park three white-coated attendants stood around a car, talking. They didn't look my way. There was no one else in the park to pay me any attention. I walked rapidly up the ramp. The suitcase weighed a ton. I wouldn't be able to travel far with this burden hanging at the end of my arm. But I wasn't going to ditch it. With all that money I might still buy my life: without it I was done for.

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