James Chase - The Dead Stay Dumb

“They’ve gone up there,” Dillon said. “Ain’t that a break?”

Without waiting for Roxy to say anything, he climbed up on to the next landing.

The blonde was sitting on the bed trying to take off her dress. She was so drunk that she couldn’t quite make it. She sat there struggling and giggling. Little Ernie was not in the room Dillon could see a light coming from a half-open door leading off the room, and he guessed he was in there.

The blonde got to her feet and lurched through the door, leaving the room empty. Dillon put his fingers under the window frame and quietly lifted the window. He had a little struggle, but he managed it. The window slid back without any noise.

Roxy came up, a gun in his hand. His eyes were popping out of his head.

Dillon said quietly, “Stay here. If there’s any trouble, shoot.”

He put a leg over the window-sill and slid into the room. He stood listening in the middle of the room, his gun held by his side. Faintly, he could hear the two in the other room. They were not talking, but he could hear the blonde giggle and Ernie’s grunts. He stepped quietly to the door and looked in.

Little Ernie was dressed in a salmon-pink dressing-gown. He was standing with his back to the door. The blonde had got rid of her dress and she was facing Dillon. She was wearing a cloudy piece of chiffon that didn’t cover her much. She saw Dillon standing in the doorway and she stiffened. The liquor died on her, leaving her sober and terrified.

Dillon said, “Don’t move, you two. I’m itching to blast you.”

Little Ernie didn’t bat an eyelid Dillon had to hand it to him. He just stood looking inquiringly at the blonde. She folded her hands across her breasts and moaned softly.

Dillon moved into the room, stiff-legged, like a cat about to fight. He circled slowly round until he was behind the blonde, facing Ernie.

“I guess you didn’t expect to see me?” he said evenly.

Little Ernie licked his lips. His small monkey-like face turned a little green.

“I’m the guy you tried to rub out tonight,” Dillon said; “I guess this burg’s too small for both of us. I guess you’re comin’ for a ride. Ernie… a one-way ride.”

Ernie said, “Don’t be a fool. You an’ me can do things together in a big way.” His voice was thick, as if he’d a clot in his throat.

Dillon sneered. “Yeah?” He shook his head. “You’re too late on that stuff, Ernie…. It’s curtains for you.” While he was speaking, he shifted his gun a little, so that he held it by its barrel. Then with a quick savage swing, he struck the blonde behind her ear with the butt of the gun.

She went down like an inanimate doll. Dillon had Ernie covered in one movement.

Ernie looked down at the blonde and shook his head. “That was a lousy one to pull,” he said.

Dillon said, “Get goin’… you an’ me are goin’ for a ride.”

Ernie looked at him, hesitated, then he turned and walked into the other room. He paused then. “I guess you’ll let me dress?” he said.

Dillon said, “Get outta the window… quick.” He rammed the gun into Ernie’s back.

Ernie climbed out of the window. He started back against Dillon when he saw Roxy. Dillon shoved him forward roughly. “Get goin’,” he said.

Roxy stood aside. Ernie began to move to the stairs. Dillon quietly slipped the gun into his holster and bent down quickly. He caught Ernie by his ankles and with a great heave threw the little man over the rail. It was done so quickly that Roxy couldn’t believe his eyes. Ernie was there one second and vanished the next.

Just one terrified squeal sounded in their ears, then a heavy dull thud as Ernie hit the flags down below.

Dillon gripped Roxy’s arm. “Get goin’,” he said viciously. “We gotta get out of this quick.”

They pelted down the escape and blundered into the dark alley. Dillon didn’t pause to look at Ernie, but ran on to the street.

Myra started the engine as she heard them coming Dillon swung himself on to the running-board. “It’s okay,” he said. “You get into the back Roxy can drive.”

She clambered over the seat and Roxy got in under the wheel. His teeth were chattering, but he managed to engage the gear.

Myra said, “Did you get him?”

“What the hell do you think?”

Roxy said, “There’s a guy in Springdale who’ll hide us up until this blows over.”

“Yeah?” Dillon said. “That’s a good idea. You know this bird?”

“Sure….” Roxy spun the wheel at Twenty-third Street and headed the car up Kansas Avenue Bridge. “I know him all right He’s safe and they won’t look for us there.”

They shot across the bridge fast. Suddenly Myra leant forward violently and gripped Roxy’s shoulder. “Stop!… stop!… stop!” she screamed.

Roxy was so startled he nearly piled the car into a wall. He crammed on his brakes, throwing Dillon forward. “What the hell’s wrong?” he demanded.

Myra’s face was livid in the street light. “Quick… where did you get this car?” she gasped.

Roxy twisted and looked at Dillon. “She gone nuts?” he asked angrily. “Jeeze, I nearly crashed this heap.”

Dillon didn’t like the look on Myra’s face. He demanded harshly, “What is it?”

“Where did you get this car?” Myra repeated, pounding Roxy’s arm with her fist.

“Where the hell do you think I got it?” Roxy said surlily. “I knocked it off.”

Myra turned wildly to Dillon. “The fool’s finished us,” she shouted. “Can’t you see we’ve taken this heap over the State line!”

Dillon suddenly turned on Roxy, his fist clenched above his head. “You sonofabitch!” he snarled. “You’ve got the Feds on to us.”

Roxy stiffened. “Hell! You’ll have a crowd round us. What the hell do you mean… got the Feds on us?”

Dillon said furiously, “It’s a Federal offence to take a stolen car over the State line… Didn’t you know that, you goddam bastard?”

Roxy engaged his gear. His face had gone the colour of putty. “They’ll hang Hurst on to us now,” he said unsteadily. They’re sure goin’ to get us now.”

Myra said, “Get on… get on quick! We gotta get under cover.”

The big car quickened. Dillon said, “When that bastard Strawn hears about this, he’ll come a-runnin’.”

Myra said between her teeth, “See what you’ve done, you lug.” She beat her fists on her knees. “We had it all an’ you must get smart. I’m finished with you, do you understand? I’m washed up. We’re through.”

Dillon said, “You’re through when I say so, an’ not before. You know too much, an’ what’s more, Strawn will pin somethin’ on to you… don’t you think he won’t.”

Roxy called, “We gotta switch cars… this broken screen’ll stop us. I’m goin’ on a bit further, then we’ll have to walk.”

They drove on in silence. The night was very dark. There was no moon, and heavy threatening clouds hung low. Once in the open, the big beams of the car lit up the dirt road and they lurched and jolted as Roxy tried to keep up speed.

Dillon said in an undertone to Myra, “You got any dough?”

She said quickly, “What you think? I came away in a rush.” She put her hand cautiously on her bag that hung on her wrist. Dillon leant forward and ripped the bag from her. For a moment she hesitated, then she flung herself forward. Dillon was expecting her to start something, and he swung a backhand, knocking her into the corner of the car. “Cut it out,” he said viciously. “You ain’t got no dough, so what you gettin’ sore about?”

He put his hand inside the bag and felt the big roll of money. He grinned to himself in the dark. Taking the roll out, he transferred it to his own pocket. He tossed the bag into her lap.