James Chase - Knock, Knock! Who's There?

All kinds of problems crowded in on him, but he refused to be panicked. They now knew he was wearing a beard so that had to come off. They knew he wore khaki drill. He would have to change his clothes. Salvadore would give them a description of Freda. He looked at her blonde, silky hair. That was like a beacon to anyone hunting for them. That would have to be fixed.

Suddenly she said, “Where are we going?”

He drew in a deep breath of relief.

“How are you feeling, baby?”

“I’m all right.” Her voice was shaky. “Where are we going?”

“We’re driving north. We have another two hours before they start wondering. In two hours we’ll be at St. David’s Bay. We’ll stop there. It’s a vacation town: packed with tourists and cars. We’ll have to get rid of this car. Don’t worry. Take it easy. Leave it to me.”

“Oh, Johnny, I’m frightened!” She put her hand on his thigh. “Did you have to kill them?”

“I warned you, baby, this is the Mafia. You kill or get killed,” Johnny said quietly. “I still think we have a chance. I’ll tell you now: there’s $186,000 in those bags. I’m telling you because you are now in this mess as much as I am. I’m sorry, but you are and you’ve got to realize it. There’s still a good chance we can get the money and get away with it.”

“A hundred and eighty-six thousand!” Her voice shot up. “But, Johnny, that’s a fortune!”

“That’s it. Well, you know now. It’s a gamble: our lives against that money. If I get it, we’ll share it. I mean that.”

“So what do we do?”

“When we get to St. David’s Bay, go to a hairdresser and get them to tint your hair any colour you like, but the word will have gone out to look for a blonde. I’ll get this beard off. We’ve got to buy clothes. I’ve got the money. You don’t have to worry about that. Then we’ve got to ditch this car. We’ll take a Greyhound bus to Brunswick. There we’ll hole up and wait. We have enough money. We can wait two months if we have to. Then when my contact in East City tells me the heat is off, we go collect the money.”

“Do you think we’ll get it?”

“If we don’t, we’re dead,” he said, knowing this was the truth.

It was 09.50 when they drove into St. David’s Bay. Johnny saw a vast free car park by the beach crammed with cars and caravans.

“This is where we ditch the car.” He drove into the car park. It took him several minutes to find a space, but he found one. “From now on we walk.”

He unlocked his suitcase and took out what was left of Sammy’s money.

“This is how much we have got,” he said and counted the money while she watched him. “Two thousand, eight hundred and fiftyseven dollars. I want you to see this, baby. I want you to know that from now on we are together, partners.” He counted out a thousand and handed her the bills. “You have this, just in case something happens to me. Go find a hairdresser and get your hair fixed, then buy clothes. Don’t spend much. We could have to live on this for some time. Be careful what you buy: nothing that’ll catch the eye. We’ll be husband and wife. I’ve been thinking. We two are on vacation, travelling Greyhound and seeing the country. I’m giving you the background. We take a room in some little hotel in Brunswick. You tell them I’ve a bad heart and I have to take it easy. We won’t go out much. You think it was a mistake for us to come so far. I’m in need of a rest. We sign in as Mr. and Mrs. Henry Jackson from Pittsburgh. This is only rough thinking. We’ll polish it later.”

She put the money he had given her in her bag, then she looked at him.

“While I’m getting my hair fixed, Johnny, do you plan to leave me?”

This shocked him. For a long moment, he stared at her, then smiled.

“Ask yourself. It’s only in oneself that one knows trust, baby.”

Closing the suitcase, he got out of the car.

She joined him.

“I’m sorry.” She touched his arm. “I’ve known so many men. I’m so sick of myself! I don’t know who to trust.”

“If you can’t trust me by now, baby,” he said gently, “then you’re in real trouble. Come on, let’s go.”

They walked into the town. Although it was early, the tourists were out in force, heading for the beach. Half-way down the Main street, Johnny spotted the Greyhound bus station.

“We meet there.” He pointed. “Be as quick as you can. I’ll wait for you… you wait for me. Okay?”

She hated him leaving her.

“Johnny… I’m scared to be on my own… really scared.”

He smiled at her.

“But, baby, we’re always alone. I’ve been alone all my life and so have you. Just get your hair fixed and buy some clothes. You’d better buy a hold-all.” He looked around. “Up there on the left: a Ladies’ hairdressers. Get your hair fixed first.”

“Yes.” She forced a smile. “See you, Johnny.”

“That’s one thing you can be sure of.”

They parted and Johnny went in search of a barber.

Luigi was occupied with his Maitre d’hotel, arranging the menu for the following day when his telephone bell rang. The time was 11.05. He reached for the receiver as he said, “Give ’em duck. We’ve got too many ducks in the freezer.” Then into the mouthpiece, he said, “Who is it?”

“This is Joe!” Massino’s voice was tight with rage. “What’s happening? I’ve been waiting! What did that whore say?”

Luigi stiffened. He had been so occupied with the routine work of his restaurant, he had completely forgotten he had sent Bernie and Clive out to Little Creek.

“Still waiting, Joe. I should hear any minute. The moment I hear I’ll call you back.”

“What the hell are those punks doing?” Massino bawled. “Get me some action!” and he hung up.

Luigi was now worried. He had told those two to see the girl at 06.00. Five hours ago! He snatched up the receiver. “Get Capello here!” he barked, cut the connection, then dialled Salvadore’s number. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Bernie and Clive were supposed to see this whore at six this morning. What’s happening?”

“I don’t know.” Salvadore said. “I haven’t seen them. Hold for a moment.” After a minute or so, he came back on the line. “Just looked at the houseboat through my glasses. No sign of life.”

“I’m sending Capello. Go with him and find out what’s happening.” Luigi’s voice was now a snarl. “Call me back pronto.”

An hour later, as Little Creek’s church clock was striking twelve, Toni arrived at the store in a car Luigi had lent him. Salvadore was waiting for him.

“What gives?” Salvadore asked.

“I don’t know. We’ve got to get over there and find out.”

They climbed into Salvadore’s boat and headed across the lake to the houseboat. Toni was first on deck, gun in hand. He was sweating and he had a hell of a headache from his heavy drinking the previous evening. Salvadore tied up and joined him. They went through the deserted houseboat, then Toni saw an envelope lying on the table. He opened it and read the message.

“Hey! Look at this! That bastard was here all the time! They’ve gone off together!”

“But where’s Bernie and Clive?” Salvadore looked around, then knelt, putting his hand on the worn carpet. “Been recently washed.” The two men looked at each other, then Salvadore went out on deck, staring into the clear water on the lake. Toni joined him.

“You think he knocked them off?”

“How the hell do I know?” Salvadore went back into the livingroom and shoved the table aside. He found a small patch of dried blood that Johnny had missed in spite of his careful cleaning up. “Look.”

Toni peered over his shoulder.