James Chase - No Orchids for Miss Blandish

Doc stiffened and looked uneasily up at the ceiling.

“Sounds like the girl screaming.”

“I’ll go up and see,” Woppy said, starting for the door.

“Better not,” Doc said. “Ma’s with her.”

The two men listened to the high-pitched screaming for a moment, then Woppy, grimacing, went over to the radio and turned it on. The sudden blast of jazz drowned out the screams.

“Maybe I’m getting soft,” Woppy said, wiping his face with his handkerchief, “but there are times when that bitch makes me sick to my stomach.”

Doc drained his glass, then refilled it.

“Better not let her hear you say so,” he said and sat down.

Upstairs Ma Grisson was once more sitting on the bed, breathing hard through her thick nose. She watched Miss Blandish writhing on the bed, tears running down her face, her hands twisting the sheet.

“Now I think we can talk,” Ma said.

She began to speak. What she said made the girl forget her pain. She stared at the old woman as if she couldn’t believe she was hearing correctly. Suddenly she gasped, “No!” Ma went on talking. Miss Blandish sat up and recoiled to the head of the bed, saying “No!”

At last Ma lost patience.

“You can’t get out of it, you little fool!” she snarled. “You’re going to do what I tell you! If you don’t, I’ll beat you again.”

“No... No... No!”

Ma got to her feet and picked up the length of rubber hose. Then she changed her mind.

“I’m spoiling your pretty skin,” she said, “and that won’t do. There are other ways. I’ll get Doc to fix you. I should have thought of that before. Yeah, Doc’ll know how to fix you.”

She went out of the room leaving Miss Blandish, her head buried in the pillow, sobbing wildly.

Eddie stared down at Heinie’s body, feeling sweat break out on his face. If the cops walked in now he would be in a hell of a jam, he was thinking. He looked quickly around the room. There had been no struggle. He guessed someone had knocked on the door and when Heinie had opened it, he had been shot. From the small wound in Heinie’s head, Eddie surmised the gun used had been a .25 — a woman’s weapon.

He touched Heinie’s hand. It was still warm. Heinie hadn’t been dead longer than half an hour, if that.

Eddie looked into the passage. Flynn was still watching the stairs. Eddie left the room. As an afterthought he carefully wiped the door knob with his handkerchief. Then he crossed to room 243 and tried the door handle. The door was locked. He knocked. Flynn looked down the passage at him. Eddie rapped on the door again. There was no answer. He put his ear against the door panel. He heard the sound of the window being pushed open.

“Hey, you in there,” he called softly. “Come on! Open up!”

Then the silence of the night was split by a woman’s wild screams. From the sound, the woman in 243 was leaning out of the window, yelling her head off.

Eddie jumped back from the door.

“Come on, stupid!” Flynn shouted. “Let’s get out of here!”

Eddie joined him at the head of the stairs and together the two men started down.

“Wait!” Flynn hissed and grabbed Eddie’s arm. He looked down the well of the staircase into the hall. Eddie peered over Flynn’s shoulder. Two cops, guns in hand, were standing in the hall. Suddenly, they moved to the stairs and started up them.

Eddie and Flynn spun around and darted up to the next landing. They could hear people shouting and doors opening.

“The roof!” Eddie panted.

They rushed up to the top landing. They could hear the cops pounding up after them. As they started down the long passage a door nearby opened and a scared-looking man poked his head out. Flynn hit him as he crowded past. The man fell down. From inside the room, a woman started to scream.

There was a door at the end of the passage which led out onto the roof. It was locked. Flynn fired two shots at the lock, then kicked the door open. The noise of the shots in the confined space deafened the two men. Gasping for breath, they stumbled out onto the flat roof and into the cool night air.

Running to the edge of the roof, they took a stiff drop onto the roof of the adjacent building, some fifteen feet below. The moon, hidden behind a cloud, made just enough light for them to see where they were going.

They paused for a moment, trying to decide which way they should go.

“We’d better split up,” Eddie said. “You go left, I’ll go right. Be seeing you.”

Flynn moved off across the roof away from Eddie. There was a sudden shout and Flynn turned in time to see shadowy figures appearing on the upper roof. He fired. One of the figures dropped, and he darted into the darkness.

Screened by a row of chimney stacks, Eddie paused to look down into the street. People were coming out of the various apartment blocks and crowding the streets. A police car was pulling up. From it spilled four cops. They shoved their way through the crowd to the entrance of the hotel. In the distance came the sound of approaching sirens.

Eddie moved off. He lowered himself onto another roof. Crouching in the shadows, he looked back. The roof of the hotel was now alive with moving shadows. A gun banged away from him. One of the shadows slumped out of sight.

Eddie stood, hesitating. None of the cops seemed to be coming his way. They were chasing Flynn. Eddie grinned uneasily. It had been a smart idea to split up.

He moved across the roof to a skylight. His best bet, he told himself, was to get into the building and hide up until it was safe to leave.

Suddenly, without warning, a cop came from behind a chimney stack. The two men gaped at each other, for a moment paralyzed with shock and surprise, then the cop acted quickly. He jerked up his gun, but Eddie was a shade faster. He slammed a punch at the cop’s head and brought his gun butt down on the cop’s gun wrist. The cop reeled back, dropping his gun. Eddie could have shot him, but he knew the sound of the shooting would bring the other cops.

He jumped forward, took a stiff blow to the side of his face from the cop and clubbed the cop with his gun butt.

The cop was tough and full of fight. He was trying to pull his nightstick. He and Eddie grappled. For a long moment, the two men strained together, then Eddie punched the cop off. As he came forward again, Eddie sidestepped him and hit him a crushing blow with the gun butt on the side of his head. The cop dropped like a pole-axed bull.

Panting, Eddie looked anxiously around. He could hear distant shooting. He ran over to the skylight and jerked it open. The bolt holding it in place was flimsy and it snapped at his first heave. He looked into the darkness, then swung his legs into space and dropped. He took out his flashlight and sent the beam around the room. It was full of boxes, trunks and unwanted furniture. Moving to the door, he opened it cautiously and peered out into a dark passage. He listened, then moving forward, he reached the head of the stairs. He turned off his flashlight and made his way down to the lower landing.

Police sirens were now making a deafening noise. He could hear the sound of running footsteps. There was a great deal of distant shouting. He reached the landing and peered over the banisters. Far below, he saw three cops starting up the stairs towards him.

Sweat was running down his face now. This was getting much too hot for comfort, he was thinking.

He whipped around and noiselessly entered the first room near him. The light was on in the room. A woman was leaning far out of the window, looking down at the commotion going on in the street below. He could only see her pyjamaed back and legs, and even under this pressure, he found himself thinking she had a nice shape.