James Chase - Figure It Out for Yourself

There was a heavy, electric silence.

Myra said, ‘Go ahead: don’t mind me. Was he with you ON that night?’

Lola jumped to her feet; her face still red, but her eyes angry and hard.

‘Get out, you two! I’m talking too much. Go on, beat it. I’ve said all I’m going to say.’

‘Don’t get excited,’ I said soothingly. ‘This is important Lola. Perelli’s in a jam. If you can help him, you’ve got to do it. If you know he left here at ten-thirty, you can save his life. Was he with you on that night?’

Lola gave Myra a quick, calculating look.

‘I’m not talking,’ she said curtly. ‘Get out; both of you!’

‘All right, Myra,’ I said, and went to the door, opened it and jerked my thumb. Wait for me in the car. I have a little business deal to settle with Lola. I’ll join you in a couple of minutes.’

‘How about Betillo?’ Myra said. ‘He’ll be up here any minute now.’

‘Never mind Betillo. Wait for me in the car.’

She went out, her back very straight, her face white. I closed the door.

‘That was a bit of bad luck,’ I said, took out a pack of cigarettes and offered it to her.

She looked at me, grimaced, and took the cigarette.

‘Think twice the next time you make up your so-called mind to bring a woman into a hole like this,’ she said savagely. ‘What kind of spot do you think you’ve put me in?’

‘Yeah; I’m sorry, but I wasn’t to know. As it turns out, it may be a lucky break. Don’t be coy with me, Lola; was Perelli with you?’

‘Of course he was. He played cards with Betillo and then came over to me. I was always seeing him. He’s one of my regulars.’

‘Remember what time he left you?’

‘It would be about half past ten. I don’t remember to the minute.’

‘That’s swell,’ I said sarcastically. ‘So Betillo was telling the truth and Perelli was lying.’

She didn’t say anything.

I guess he didn’t want Myra to know what he was up to,’ I said, and shook my head. ‘He must have gambled on Betillo backing up his story. You may have to be a witness, Lola. He’s got to have an alibi.’

‘I don’t care.’ she said, shrugging, ‘but she will. I know her type. She thinks once a man falls in love with her he’s hers for keeps. It doesn’t work out that way.’

I took out a hundred-dollar bill.

I owe you this for spoiling that sheet of yours. Keep your mouth shut about Perelli, Lola. I’ll tell you if we want you at the trial.’

She took the bill, folded it and pushed it down the top of her stocking.

‘What pigs men are.’ she said, and threw the half-smoked cigarette contemptuously into the fireplace.

I opened the Buick door, slid under the wheel and trod on the starter.

Myra was smoking, a brooding look on her face.

‘So we don’t touch Betillo?’ she said in a low, flat voice.

‘As it happened,’ I said, not looking at her, ‘he was telling the truth. Nick parted company with him at nine-thirty.’

‘And spent an hour with that awful, washed-out blonde,’ Myra said. ‘Lovely for him. I hope he enjoyed himself.’

I drove with exaggerated care up Monte Verde Avenue.

‘He’s risking his neck to keep it quiet,’ I said. ‘There’s that in his favour.’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Myra said, her voice unsteady. ‘You don’t have to make a case out for him. There wasn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t have done for him: not a thing. When he was in jail, I waited for him. When he came out, I was right on the doorstep. When he was short of money, and he was always short of money, I kept him going. I’ve been walking the floor all last night, worrying about him. And he has to cheat with a hustler like that in a sordid little room, and pay for it.’

‘You’re breaking my heart,’ I said. ‘Okay, so he cheated on you. So what? You don’t have to stand by him now. You’re free. There’re hundreds of men who’ll give you a good time. What are you worrying about?’

She swung round in her seat, catching her breath, her face tight with rage.

I grinned at her.

‘Get off your high horse, honey. It doesn’t suit your complexion.’

She started at me, bit her lip and managed a wry smile. ‘I guess you’re right. They’re all alike. I wish I didn’t love that heel. If he ever gets out of this mess, I’ll have something to say to him. He’ll be allergic to blondes for the rest of his life by the time I’ve finished with him!’

I pulled up outside her bungalow.

‘Go to bed and get some sleep. I have to do a little more thinking.’

‘What’s the matter with going to the police and getting them to talk to that blonde? Won’t her evidence get Nick out?’

I shook my head.

‘Not a hope. They wouldn’t believe her, for one thing. A woman like that hasn’t any standing in a court of law. There’s no other witnesses. Nick realized that.’

‘So tonight’s been so much waste of time?’

‘That’s right. I’ve got to cook up another angle. ‘I’ll keep in touch.’

I leaned across her and opened the door.

‘Don’t worry. You may not think it, but we’re making progress. We’ll have made some more by tomorrow. So long for now.’

She put her hand on my arm.

‘Thanks for what you’ve done so far. Keep trying. I want that heel back.’

I watched her walk up the path to the dark little bungalow, then engaged gear and drove away.

As I drove along the wide track that led through the sand dune to my cabin, the headlights of the Buick picked out a big battle-ship of a car parked outside my front gate.

I slowed down, threw out the clutch, shifted into neutral and cruised to a standstill.

I got out of the Buick and walked over to the car. The tight from the dashboard reflected on Serena Dedrick’s pale, set face. She turned her head and we looked at each other through the open window.

‘I hope you haven’t been waiting long,’ I said, startled to find her here outside my cabin.

‘It doesn’t matter. I want to talk to you.’

‘Come in.’

I opened the car door.

She got out, holding a crimson silk wrap closely to her. She made a lovely, impressive figure of beauty in the moonlight. Silently, we walked together up the path that led to the veranda.

‘I opened the front door, switched on the light and stood inside, wondering what she wanted.

‘She went into the lounge. I followed, closed the door, and turned on the standard lamp by the settee.

‘Would you like a drink or coffee?’

‘Nothing,’ she said curtly, and sat down on the settee. The wrap fell open. She had certainly dressed for the occasion. The white satin dress, the skirt heavy with gold brocade, was fit for a State ball. Diamonds glittered at her throat. A diamond bracelet, four inches wide, imprisoned her left wrist. She seemed determined I shouldn’t forget she was the fourth richest woman in the world.

I poured out a stiff whisky, carried the glass to my favourite armchair and sank into it. I felt tired and a little depressed. All the way from Myra’s bungalow I had been racking my brains to find a way of cracking this case, but it was like hammering my head against a brick wall.

Then, being suspicious by nature, an idea floated into my head. I considered it, decided it was a sound one, got to my feet again, crossed the room and thumbed down an electric switch on the wall. Then I came back to the chair again and sat down.

Serena watched me, under down-drawn eyebrows.

‘I have a telephone connection in my bedroom. It wasn’t switched through,’ I explained; went on, ‘Well, now, Mrs. Dedrick, what can I do for you?’

‘I want you to stop interfering with this kidnapping case,’ She said.