James Chase - Just Another Sucker

‘Come on, Joe,’ the fat soldier urged. ‘We’ve got half the goddam street to check yet, and it’s getting late.’

Joe paid no attention to him. I could see he was going to make an issue of this.

‘I’m going to bust open this trunk,’ he said, and moving away from me, he looked around the garage.

He spotted a tyre lever and picked it up.

‘Now, wait a minute,’ I said and I got in front of the trunk. ‘You’re not damaging my car! Here, take a look at this,’ and I gave him my Press card.

He stared at it without touching it.

‘So what?’ He swung the tyre lever impatiently. ‘I don’t give a damn who you are. I’ve got orders to check every car in this street: that’s what I’m going to do!’

I looked at Nina.

‘There’s a policeman over the way. Go and get him.’

As Nina ran out of the garage, Joe said savagely, ‘I don’t give a goddam for any cop either. I’m opening that trunk! Get out of my way!’

I remained where I was.

‘You’re not damaging my car,’ I said. ‘I’ll open the trunk tomorrow morning when I have the key and not before.’

We stared at each other for a long moment, then he put down the tyre lever.

‘Okay, if that’s the way you want it. Come on, Hank, we’re going to shift this punk. I’m opening the trunk!’

‘Aw, now look, Joe,’ the fat one said uneasily. ‘No rough stuff. Let’s wait for the cop.’

‘I’m obeying orders,’ he said. He eyed me. ‘Are you getting out of the way or do I have to get you out of the way?’

‘You’re heading for a court-martial, soldier,’ I said. ‘You start any rough stuff and you’ll be sorry.’

Joe looked at Hank.

‘Come on: we’re going to shift this guy. If he gets hurt, it’s his funeral,’ and he started towards me as Nina came up the path with one of the policemen I had seen across the way.

Joe paused as the cop, a big, heavily built man, came into the garage.

‘What’s going on?’ the cop demanded.

‘I want to see inside this trunk,’ Joe said. ‘This guy hasn’t the key. I’ve got orders. I’m busting the trunk open, but this guy says no.’

‘Where’s the key?’ the cop said to me.

‘At the locksmith,’ I told him. ‘I’m having a duplicate made.’

He stared at me, scratching his bullet head with a thick finger.

‘What locksmith?’

I was ready for that one.

‘I don’t know. I gave the key to my secretary to fix.’ I offered my Press card. ‘I work for the District Attorney, officer. I’ll have the key here tomorrow morning. I’ll willingly open the trunk then. There’s nothing in it, but if it will satisfy our friend here, I’ll open it tomorrow, but I’m not standing for him busting the lock.’

The cop examined the Press card, then he frowned at Joe.

‘Look, soldier, you don’t have to bear down on this thing,’ he said. ‘We know this gentleman. What are you getting so excited about?’

Joe hunched his shoulders. His expression became more hostile.

‘I don’t give a damn who he is. I’ve got my orders and I’m going to carry them out.’

‘You bust that lock, soldier,’ the cop said, ‘and you’ll be responsible. You’ll have to pay for it.’

‘Okay, so I’ll pay for it,’ Joe said. ‘I’m busting it!’

The cop shrugged and turned to me.

‘Does that suit you, Mr. Barber. Let him bust the lock. He’ll have to pay for it.’

I was scarcely breathing.

‘No, it doesn’t suit me,’ I said. ‘This is an old car. I may not be able to get another lock. This car has a bust gearbox. It’s been standing in the garage for a couple of days. If you don’t believe me, see if you can move it.’

‘Yeah?’ Joe said. ‘So how do we start the motor without the ignition key? Get out of my way! I’m opening this goddam trunk!’ and he grabbed up the tyre lever.

I remained where I was.

‘Let’s settle this,’ I said. ‘I’ll call Lieutenant Renick. If he wants the trunk opened, then okay, this kid can open it.’

The cop’s face brightened.

‘That’s an idea, but I’ll talk to the Lieutenant.’

Joe threw down the tyre lever in disgust.

‘Cops!’ His voice was bitter with contempt. ‘Okay, hang together, but I’m going to report this to my C.O. Don’t imagine you have heard the last of it — you haven’t! Come on, Hank, let’s get out of here,’

and the two soldiers walked down the path, leaving the cop staring uneasily after them.

‘These kids,’ he said in disgust. ‘They get a fixed idea, and nothing will shift it.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, breathing again. ‘I was damned if I was going to let him bust my car.’

‘You were right. Okay, Mr. Barber.’

He saluted Nina and then went off down the path.

‘Well!’ Nina said. ‘I hated that little beast. I knew he was going to make trouble the moment I saw him.’

I closed the garage doors.

‘Better lock it,’ I said. ‘I don’t want him sneaking back here, and he could.’

She gave me the key and I locked the doors.

Together, we went into the bungalow.

‘What’s been happening, Harry? They think this girl’s dead. Everyone is talking about her. What’s been happening?’ Nina asked as we walked into the lounge.

‘I don’t know. Get me a drink, will you? I’ve been at this rat-race all day and I’m about petered out.’

I took off my jacket and tossed it into the settee, then I sank into a lounging chair and loosened my tie.

Nina mixed a whisky and soda.

‘What are we going to do about the car?’ she asked.

‘It’ll have to wait. We can’t afford a new gearbox.’

She carried the drink over.

‘A cigarette?’

‘Yes.’

She gave me a cigarette.

‘My lighter is in my pocket.’

She went over to my jacket and put her hand in one of the pockets. My mind couldn’t have been working. I was so used to having her wait on me.

‘Harry!’

The tone of her voice brought me alert.

She was holding my car keys and her car keys in her hand and she was staring at them.

I felt my mouth turn dry.

She looked at me.

‘Harry!’

There was a long pause while we stared at each other, then the glass of whisky I was holding slipped out of my hand and smashed to pieces on the parquet floor.

The hall clock began to strike nine. The sharp pinging sound of the bell seemed to fill the room.

I got to my feet, staring down at the broken glass and the puddle of whisky on the floor.

‘I’ll fix it,’ I said and started for the door.

‘Harry…’

‘I’ll be right back.’

I had to have a breather. I knew I was chalk white. My mind was seething with panic. I strove desperately to think of a convincing lie, but I couldn’t think of one.

I picked up a swob in the kitchen and then started back down the passage to the lounge. I saw Nina fumbling at the front door, trying to open it. When we had come in I had shot the bolts. The top one was stiff and she was trying to draw it back.

‘Where are you going?’ I shouted to her, throwing aside the swob.

She looked over her shoulder at me. Her face was pinched and white and her eyes unnaturally large.

‘To the garage.’

She got the bolt back as I jumped forward and grabbed her.

‘You’re not going out there! Give me those keys!’

‘Let go of me!’

She wrenched free and darted away from me, putting her hands behind her back and leaning against the wall. Her breasts under her white shirt rose and fell with her violent breathing.

‘Give me those keys!’

‘Don’t come near me! What have you done?’