James Chase - Just Another Sucker

‘I just imagined he was. He…’

I cut in.

‘I had rented a cabin here, John. I was planning a book. I found I couldn’t work at home.’

‘Is — that — right?’ The unbelief in his voice was painful to hear. ‘You didn’t tell me that.’

I forced a grin.

‘The book didn’t jell.’

Renick stared at me for a moment, then turned to Holden.

‘Were all the cabins locked on Saturday night?’

‘Sure,’ Holden said. ‘I locked them myself: except Mr. Barber’s cabin of course. He had the key.’

‘None of the locks had been tampered with?’

‘No.’

‘Did you lock your cabin, Harry?’ Renick asked.

‘I think so. I can’t be sure. Maybe I didn’t.’

‘Which was your cabin?’

‘The last one on the left, Lieutenant,’ Holden said. He was now uneasy and he kept shooting glances at me and then at Renick.

‘Anyone in the cabin now?’

Holden looked at a chart on the wall.

‘It’s empty right now.’

‘Have you ever seen Odette Malroux here?’ Renick asked.

‘The girl who was kidnapped?’ Holden shook his head. ‘She never came here, Lieutenant. I’d know her. I’ve seen enough pictures of her. No… she never came here.’

‘I’ll take a look at the cabin. Got the key?’

‘It’ll be in the door, Lieutenant.’

Renick started for the door and I started after him.

Holden said, ‘Oh, Mr. Barber…’

Here it comes, I thought. I turned and grimaced at him.

‘I’ll be right back,’ I said, and as Renick paused, I crowded up against him, trying to shove him out of the little office.

‘What is it?’ Renick asked Holden, refusing to be shoved.

‘It’s okay, Lieutenant,’ Holden said, looking unhappy. ‘It’s nothing important.’

Renick went out into the hot sunshine. We walked in silence along the wooden slats laid on the sand, avoiding the half-naked sun-bathers who stared at us, wondering who we were in our city clothes, until we came to the cabin where Odette had died.

The key was in the lock. Renick pushed open the door and stepped in. He looked around, then, turning, he looked hard at me.

‘You didn’t tell me you had hired this cabin, Harry?’

‘Should I have done?’ I remained by the door. ‘It didn’t cross my mind you’d be interested.’

‘This is where she could have been murdered.’

‘Think so? She could have been murdered on the beach.’

‘I want you to think: did you lock the door or didn’t you?’

‘I don’t have to think — I didn’t lock it,’ I said. ‘I didn’t tell Holden that. I didn’t want him to get mad at me. I left the key in the lock. I found it on Monday when I looked in to pick up my typewriter.’

‘So she could have been murdered here.’

‘The locks on these doors don’t mean a thing. She could have been murdered in any of the cabins or on the beach.’

He brooded for a long minute while I stood there, listening to the thump-thump-thump of my heart beats.

Then he glanced at his wrist watch.

‘Okay, Harry, you get off home. I don’t want you any more for tonight. Get one of the boys to run you home. Tell the others I want them right here.’

‘I don’t mind sticking around if I can be of any help,’ I said.

‘It’s okay. You get off home.’

He wasn’t looking at me now, but staring around the room. I knew what would happen the moment I had gone. They would take the cabin to pieces. The fingerprint boys would test every inch of the place and sooner or later they would find Odette’s prints. There was just a chance they would also find Rhea’s prints and O’Reilly’s prints. They would certainly find mine, but that didn’t worry me. What did worry me was that Renick would go back to Bill Holden and ask him if he had seen a big, broad-shouldered man in a brown sports suit, and Holden would tell him I had been wearing a brown sports suit.

But was this proof that I had killed Odette? I didn’t think so. I felt I had still a little time: it was running out on me fast, but at least, I had a little time.

‘See you tomorrow then, John.’

‘That’s it.’

He still didn’t look at me as I walked out of the cabin and started across the sand to Holden’s office.

Holden was standing in the doorway.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t settle with you, Bill,’ I said. ‘It went right out of my mind. I’ll send you a cheque tomorrow. That okay?’

‘I’d be glad to have it now, Mr. Barber,’ Holden said awkwardly. ‘My boss doesn’t give credit.’

‘I happen to have left my wallet at the office. I’ll send you a cheque.’

Before he could argue, I walked on to the waiting police car.

I said to one of the technical men, ‘The Lieutenant wants you boys in the cabin at the far end. I’m going home. I’ll take the bus.’

One of the detectives who had been guarding the stairs said, ‘That’s okay, Mr. Barber. We’ll run you back. This isn’t our pigeon. We’ve just come for the ride.’

Now was the time to test my suspicions.

‘That’s okay. I’ll take the bus. So long, boys,’ and I walked away over to the waiting bus.

As the bus moved off, I looked back over my shoulder.

The two detectives in the police car were right behind the bus.

I knew now for certain the red light was up, and I was suspect Number One for Odette’s murder.

As I stepped into the hall, shutting the front door, Nina came out of the lounge. She was looking pale and anxious. She ran to me, reaching up to kiss me. I put my arms around her, holding her close to me.

‘Harry!’ She was whispering. ‘They have been here this after noon when I was out, searching the place.’

My arms tightened around her.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Keep your voice down. Do you think they have hidden a microphone somewhere?’

I hadn’t thought of that possibility. I immediately realised the danger.

‘It’ll be in the lounge if it is anywhere.’

‘I’ve looked. I can’t find it.’

‘Wait here.’

I went into the lounge and crossing over to the radio I turned on, with the volume well up. A second or so later, the room was filled with the strident sound of a jazz session.

I went to the window and looked out. There was no sign of the police car, but I was sure it was there, out of sight, but from where they could watch my front gate. Then I went into the kitchen and looked out of the window. There was an alley running along the bottom of the garden. Two linesmen were working within sight of the kitchen door. One of them was at the top of a telegraph pole: the other lounged at the foot. Neither of them seemed busy.

While Nina watched from the door of the lounge, I made a systematic search for the microphone. I finally found it hidden in the radiator. If I hadn’t had some experience of police methods, I would never have found it.

I moved the radio to within a couple of feet of the radiator and let the jazz swamp the microphone.

‘They can’t hear us now,’ I said. ‘What made you think they had been here?’

‘I don’t know — a feeling.’ She sat down abruptly, looking at me with frightened eyes. ‘As soon as I opened the door I felt someone had been here. When I looked in the closet I found my clothes had been disarranged.’ She shivered. ‘What does it mean, Harry?’

‘It means they are on to me. They’re watching outside now.’

I had a sudden idea. I went into the bedroom, opened the closet door and checked my suits.

The brown sports suit was missing.

For a long uneasy moment I stood staring at the space where it had hung, then I went back into the lounge.