Strictly For Cash Part 6
He came out with two pint mugs of steaming coffee. He kept staring at me while I drank.
aIt's a funny thing,a he said slowly, abut I've seen you somewhere before.a aYou've seen my brother,a I said, deciding this might be the best way to get the information out of him. aHe had a car smash not far from here on July 29th. Remember?a He hurriedly shifted his eyes.
aI don't know anything about a car smash.a I knew at once he was lying.
aMy brother was hurt,a I said, watching him. aHe lost his memory. We don't know what happened. I'm trying to find out.a aI tell you I don't know anything about it,a he said curdy. aIf you've finished your coffee, I gotta get on.a I took out a roll of bills; peeled off a hundred in twenties and spread them out on my knee.
aI don't want to waste your time. I pay for information,a I said.
aShe said I wasn't to talk about it,a he said, his eyes lighting up, abut as you're his brother . . .a I gave him the money. My heart was beginning to pound, and my hand was unsteady.
aWhat happened?a aShe and your brother came here. She said he had been hit on the head and the car stolen, but I found out later she was lying. There had been a smash and the car caught fire. They found a body in it.a aThat's right. What was this woman like?a aDark and pretty, but as hard as nails. She wore a green dress. From the look of her she had plenty of money.a Della!
aGo on,a I said.
aYour brother made out he was pretty bad, but he wasn't. He was trying to fool me. She wanted me to call some fella, and she gave me a phone number. The phone's about half a mile down the road. I called this guy. He said he'd come over. When I got back to the cabin I looked through the window. Your brother was talking to the girl, but when I went in he made out he was still unconscious.a I didn't know what to make of all this.
aDo you remember the phone number?a aLincoln Beach 4444. It's an easy one to remember.a aWho was this fella you called?a aNick Reisner. That's what she said his name was.a I felt spider's legs run up my spine.
aWhat exactly did she say?a He thought for a long moment, scratching his head, his eyebrows drawn down in a frown.
aShe said Ricca had met with an accident, and this Reisner fella was to come and pick them up.a aDid he?a aYeah.a aDid you see him?a He shook his head.
aNo. I was asleep when he arrived.a I went on asking him questions, but there was nothing else of importance he could tell me. But I hadn't wasted my time. I had established that after the car crash Della and I had gone to the cabin. That meant her husband, Paul, and not me, as Riskin had thought, had been left in the burning car. Who Reisner was was something I had to find out. At least I had his telephone number. Why had Della called me Ricca? Had she been the girl who had died in the second car smash or was it someone else?
Before I could make sense of any of this, I had to get a bit more information. I thanked the old man for his help, and went back to where I had parked the car.
Around eight o'clock I drove into Lincoln Beach. At that hour in the morning the streets were almost deserted. I could tell at a glance this town was a millionaire's playground. The shops, buildings, the flowers growing along the sidewalks and the neatness all pointed to money. I found an hotel in one of the side streets.
Two bellhops and the head porter who looked like an Admiral of the Fleet helped me out of the car and carried the black pigskin case and two other cases into the reception lobby. They gave me a room big enough to garage three four-ton trucks, and a bathroom that was so luxurious I was scared to use it.
I lay on the bed and slept for three hours. After that all-night run I was dead beat. Around eleven-thirty I took the black pigskin suitcase down to the car. I wasn't going to be parted from that for a moment. I locked it in the boot, then drove to Roosevelt Boulevard, the main shopping centre.
There were a lot of cars drifting up and down the broad street and quite a crowd of people on the sidewalks. Most of them were in beach dress; some of the girls were practically naked, but no one paid them any attention. I parked behind a big Packard and went into a drug store.
There was one thing I had to find out. I shut myself in a phone booth and dialled Lincoln Beach 4444. I listened to the burr-burr-burr of the ringing tone, and my heart skipped a beat when a girl's voice said, aGood morning. This is the Lincoln Beach Casino at your service.a aConnect me with Nick Reisner,a I said, and my voice croaked. aWhat was that again, please?a aI said connect me with Nick Reisner.a aMr. Reisner is no longer with us. Who is that calling?a I ran a dry tongue over dryer lips.
aI'm a friend of his. I've just hit town. Where can I find him?a aI'm sorry.a She sounded embarra.s.sed. aMr. Reisner died.a aHe did?a I tried to make my voice surprised. aI didn't know. When was that?a aJuly 30th.a The day after he had come to the cabin and had taken Della and me away. I was getting the shakes again.
aWhat happened to him?a aWill you hold it a moment, please?a aHey! Don't go off the line . . .a There was a long pause. Sweat began to run down my face. Then there was a click, and a voice asked, aWho is calling?a A voice that came from a fat throat: Ricca's voice. I didn't say anything. I held the receiver against my ear, listening to his heavy breathing, aware of a cold chill creeping up my spine.
aWho is that?a he repeated. aIs it you, Johnny?a I still said nothing. I wanted to put down the receiver, but that heavy breathing and that fat, oily voice hypnotized me.
Then suddenly another voice chipped in: a harsh, shouting voice.
aThis is Police Captain Hame talking. Trace this call, miss!a I hung up then and walked rapidly out of the store to my car. I had learned little, and I had risked much. It had been a bad move to have let them know I was in town.
I sat in the car, my hat pulled down over my eyes, my fingers on the gun b.u.t.t, and waited. I didn't have to wait long. Their organization was pretty efficient. I was expecting cops, but it wasn't a police car I saw shooting along the boulevard. It was a big, black Cadillac. It pulled up outside the drug store, within fifty feet of me.
Two short, square-shouldered men got out, crossed the sidewalk and entered the drug store. The last two men I expected to see again on this earth: Pepi and Benno.
chapter fourteen.
I lit a cigarette with an unsteady hand. Where had these two sprung from? The obvious explanation was they had teamed up with Ricca. I remembered then that Waller, the Negro, had said they would keep after me until they had cornered me. I had completely forgotten them, but apparently they hadn't forgotten me.
I remained in the car, waiting. After a minute or so they came out of the drug store and paused on the sidewalk to look to right and left. Then they got into the Cadillac and drove away.
It seemed I was now up against stiff opposition. I had been ready to tackle Ricca on his own, but I wasn't too sure of my chances when it came to a combination of Ricca, Pepi and Benno. Those two lengthened the odds against me.
But no matter what happened to me, they were not going to get their hooks into that money. Now they knew I was in town I would be crazy to carry all that money around with me. I had to find a safe place to stash it.
I drove back to my hotel. The head porter sprang forward to open the car door.
aI'm not getting out,a I said. aIs there a safe deposit around here?a aFirst on your left, sir,a he told me. aYou can't miss it. The best there is.a He was right about not missing it. It was about twenty storeys high and occupied half the block. There were five uniformed guards on the sidewalk, armed to the teeth, and tough enough to scare any Chi hood out of his skin.
I pulled up and got out of the car.
One of the guards came over. The others watched me.
aI want to leave a suitcase,a I said. aWhat do I do?a aYou have it with you, sir?a I unlocked the boot and hauled out the case. He made to take it, but I waved him back.
aI'm not as weak as I look. Just tell me where to go.a aIf you'll follow me, sir.a He took me into a vast reception lobby, surrounded by a wall of steel bars as thick as my wrist. On a low balcony surrounding the lobby, guards patrolled, automatic rifles cradled in their arms.
There'd be no smash-and-grab raid in this place.
He led me to a pale young man who could have been a foreign prince, but obviously wasn't, as he stood up and bowed.
aMr. Evesham will look after you, sir,a the guard said, and went away.
aI want to deposit this suitcase,a I said. aCan you fix it?a Mr. Evesham, with another bow, said he would be happy to be of service.
aDo you wish to rent one of our strong rooms?a I said I did.
aWill you come with me?a We took the elevator to the fifth floor, walked along a corridor to a steel-mesh gate. A guard opened it and saluted.
aLet me have the key to room 46,a Evesham said. He sounded like a prince when he was giving orders.
The guard produced a key, and a door was unlocked and opened. We entered a small room, steel lined, about the size of a prison cell, and furnished with two easy chairs, a table and a fitted grey carpet. Facing us was a wall safe.
aGood enough to sleep in,a I said.
aSome of our clients like to consult their papers without taking them away,a Evesham explained. aWe try to make them as comfortable as possible.a He turned to the safe. aThe letters of the combination make up the word aeconomica. Will you remember that?a I said I would remember it.
aPerhaps you would care to open the safe yourself? All you have to do . . .a aYeah, I know,a I said. aI've handled a job like this before.a I spun the k.n.o.b, pausing at each letter. When I had spelt out the complete word, there was a click and the door swung open. aWhen you shut the door, the combination is automatically scrambled,a Evesham went on, aAnd the safe is self-locking.a aThat's fine,a I said.
aThe key to this vault is kept with the guard. Our clients are not allowed to take keys off the premises. Have you any special instructions for us? Do you wish anyone to come here, or only yourself?a aNo one is to touch the safe unless I'm with them,a I said. aWill your guard know me?a He allowed himself a princely smile.
aWhen you opened the safe your photograph was automatically taken. It will be lodged in the guard-house and checked when you apply for the key.a aYou certainly have thought this thing out.a aPerhaps you will come downstairs now and complete the formalities, sir?a aI'd like to get the hang of the safe and check through the contents of my bag before I leave,a I said. aWould it be all right if I joined you in a few minutes?a aCertainly. You know where to find me. The guard will direct you to the elevator.a When he had gone I opened the suitcase and took from it ten one-hundred-dollar bills. That amount would hold me for a few days. As I tucked the roll into my hip pocket I felt the b.u.t.t of the .22. I had the .38 in my coat pocket, and I didn't figure I'd need two guns, so I dropped the .22 into the suitcase. Then I put the case into the safe and shut the door.
Twenty minutes later I was on my way to 3945, Apartment 4, Franklin Boulevard.
I hummed under my breath as I drove. For the first time since the suitcase had come into my possession I was relaxed and at ease. The money was safe. Neither Ricca nor Benno nor Pepi could possibly get their hands on it.
A mile or so along Franklin Boulevard I spotted the house: a big place set in its own grounds: a little run to seed, unpretentious and far from gaudy. I kept straight on.
At the next intersection I saw a filling-station. I swung the car into the circular drive-in and pulled up.
An attendant came over.
aOkay for me to leave this heap for a while?a aAs long as you like.a I walked back along the boulevard and paused at the double gates of 3945. There was a short drive leading directly to the house. No one appeared to be watching at the windows or hiding in the shrubbery. I knew I was taking a risk coming here, but if I could get into the apartment I was hoping I'd find something that would jog my memory to life again. There might be letters, a photograph or even a diary. I figured it was worth the risk.
I walked up the steps into the lobby. The stairs faced me. On the fourth floor I found Apartment 4.
I pulled out the .38 and held it down by my side, then sank my thumb into the bell-push.
There was a long silence. I stood waiting, not expecting anyone to answer the door, but ready if they did. I rang again. I could hear the bell. Then I heard something else that brought me to a stiff, alert attention. I heard the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door.
I waited, the gun ready. The door opened.
A girl stood in the doorway: a girl with thick, short hair like burnished copper, whose big, startled eyes were as blue as the sky on a hot summer's day.
It was Ginny! I stood there, transfixed, staring at her. The sight of her ripped away the blanket of fog that had hung over my mind. It was like a blind man suddenly being able to see.
aOh, Johnny,a she cried. aYou've come back!a Then everything seemed to happen at once. Terror jumped into her eyes. Her mouth opened to scream. I heard the swish of a descending cosh, and then a dazzling white light exploded inside my head. I groped wildly for her as I began to fall, but she was no longer there. I went on falling, down and down, out of the present into the past.
PART THREE.
FLASH-BACK.
chapter fifteen.
A woman screamed, but it wasn't Ginny.
I lifted a hand that felt as heavy as lead and groped into s.p.a.ce, but found nothing. I tried to sit up, but the effort was too much for me.
The woman suddenly stopped screaming. The only sound I now heard was my own breathing. Each breath came very lightly as if it were going to be the last.
aJohnny!a I knew that voice: a voice out of the past; Della's voice.
My mind groped to remember. I felt again the crushing punch the Kid had given me. I saw Della again, her black eyes twin explosions as she screamed: aGet up and fight, you quitter !a Somehow I got my eyes open. The darkness bothered me. There should have been blazing lights coming down on me from the stadium batteries. I found myself thinking the Kid must have hit me with a hammer; that maybe he had blinded me. I struggled up in a sitting position.
aJohnny! Say something! Are you badly hurt?a Della was bending over me. Beyond her I could see the outlines of trees against the night sky. Then I remembered the car coming at us like a bat out of h.e.l.l, heard again the grinding, crunching noise as it sideswiped us, and felt again the sensation of flying through s.p.a.ce.
aI'm all right,a I said. aLet me alone.a I put my hand to my face. It felt wet and sticky. aWhat happened?a aYou must get up and help me,a she said, her voice urgent. aI think he's dead.a aDead? Who?a aPaul! Come on, Johnny, don't just sit there. Help me!a aOkay, okay; give me a minute.a My head began to pound and ache as I struggled to my knees. I waited a moment or so, then got to my feet. If she hadn't steadied me I would have fallen flat on my face.
aPull yourself together!a she exclaimed, and the hard, impatient note in her voice startled me. aHe's lying over there. He doesn't seem to be breathing.a I staggered over the sandy ground. Each step I took sent a stab of pain through my head, but I kept on until I reached him. He was lying on his side by the smashed Bentley, his head resting on his arm, one leg drawn up almost to his chin.
I knelt by his side. It was too dark to see much of him, but when I turned him and he flopped over on his back, his head remained on his arm. That told me his neck was broken. I touched his hand, felt his pulse, but it was a waste of time.
She dropped down on her knees beside me, her hand on my arm. I could feel her trembling.
aHe's dead,a I told her.
She didn't say anything, but her fingers closed on my arm, her nails digging into my flesh.
aStay here,a I said, getting to my feet. aI'll see if I can get someone to help us.a aAre you sure he's dead?a Her voice sounded hard and cold. aHe's dead all right. His neck's broken.a She stood up and moved away from me and leaned against a twisted palmetto tree. Her sleek black hair was dishevelled; there was a six-inch rip in her skirt, and one stocking was down to her ankle. The moonlight, coming through the tangle of overhead branches, fell on her face. There was a smear of blood down the side of her nose. Her eyes seemed to have sunk deep into her head, and she was staring sightlessly at me as if her mind were furiously preoccupied with some urgent decision.
aThe other car's across the road, Johnny,a she said. aSee what's happened to the driver.a aAnd Pepi's car?a aNo sign of it. Maybe they thought we were killed. But go and find out what's happened to the other car.a Moving slowly, still dazed, I made my way on to the highway. Away from the palmetto thicket the moonlight lit up the white road brilliantly, but even in that light it took me several minutes before I found the car. It had crashed into the thicket on the other side of the road, and lay on its side: a big Packard, now fit only for the sc.r.a.p-heap.
I peered through the shattered window. The driver still sat behind the wheel: a young fellow with a set, fixed grin on his face and horror in his wide, staring eyes. The steering-column had been driven into his body like a grotesque spear: from his neck to his waist he was pulp.
I stepped back. There was no one else in the car, and there was nothing I could do for him. I crossed the road again and went back to the thicket where she was waiting.
aWell?a she asked, her eyes searching my face.
aHe's dead.a aAnyone else in the car?a aNo.a aYou're sure he's dead?a aYes.a She gave a funny little strangled gulp.
aWhat a marvellously lucky break!a I stared at her. It suddenly occurred to me that the smash, the death of her husband and the death of the other driver were utterly remote to her. She wasn't thinking of them at all. There was something else occupying her mind: something so urgent and important to her that even the shock of being thrown out of a car at over sixty miles an hour had made no impression on her.
aWhat's the matter with you?a I demanded.
aI want my handbag, Johnny.a aTo h.e.l.l with your handbag! Are you all right?a aYes.a She moved unsteadily towards the smashed Bentley.
aHelp me find my handbag.a aThere are more important things to do than look for your bag,a I said sharply. aI've got to fetch the police.a aThe police?a She paused, turned and stared at me. aWhat good will they do?a aWe've got to get them here,a I said impatiently. aWhat's the matter with you?a My head was pounding, my nerves were flayed and I was shouting at her. aWe've got two bodies on our hands! We've got to report this . . . .a aI must have my bag, Johnny,a she said with an obstinacy that infuriated me. aThere's something very valuable in it. I must find it before we worry about the police.a aAll right! All right! We'll find it!a I said, and went over to the Bentley and wrenched open the door.
aLet me look,a she said, pushing me aside, and began groping about on the floor of the car.
I went around to the offside, but the door was jammed and wouldn't open.
aI can't see a thing!a she exclaimed. aHaven't you a match?a I struck a match and held the flame through the shattered window. She found the bag wedged between the brake and clutch pedals.
aOkay, now you have it, you'd better sit down and take it easy,a I said, stepping away from the car. aI'll hunt up a phone.a She came around the car to where I was standing.
aNo, Johnny. We won't bother about the police. No one must know he's dead.a aThey'll find him sooner or later. They'll identify the car . . .a I stopped and stared at her. aWhat is all this? Why shouldn't they know he's dead?a aI can't explain now; later, Johnny. Don't look so worried. It's all right. I'll tell you later.a aYou're suffering from shock,a I said sharply. aSit down. I'm going for the police.a She dipped her hand into the bag and brought out a .38 automatic.
aYou'll stay where you are,a she said softly, and pointed the gun at me.