James Chase - What's Better Than Money

‘We’l wait here,’ Rima said. ‘There’l be more coming. They mustn’t see us on the street.’

This made sense although I was aching to get away.

‘Larry!’ Rima said, disgust in her voice. ‘I should have known he would get it all wrong. They must bank the money or put it in a safe when they close down.’

‘Do you realise you’ve killed a man?’ I said. ‘They can send us to the gas chamber. You mad bitch! I wish I had never had anything to do with you!’

‘It was in self-defence,’ she said hotly. ‘I had to do it!’

‘It wasn’t! You shot him down in cold blood. You shot him twice!’

‘I would have been a fool to let him shoot me, wouldn’t I? He had a gun in his hand. It was self-defence!’

‘It was murder!’

‘Oh, shut up!’

‘I’m through with you. I never want to see you again so long as I live!’

‘You’re yel ow! You wanted the money as much as I did! You wanted to make money out of me!

Now, when things turn sour…’

‘You cal kil ing a man turning sour?’

‘Oh, quiet down!’

I sat still, my hands gripping the steering wheel. I was panic stricken. I told myself I must have been out of my mind to have got mixed up with her. If I got away I would go home and I would start my studies again. I would never do a bad thing again so long as I lived.

We heard more sirens. Another police car packed with plain clothes men went past, and a few seconds later, an ambulance.

‘That’s the end of the procession,’ Rima said. ‘Let’s go.’

She got out of the car and I followed her.

We walked fast to the bus stop. After two or three minutes the bus arrived.

We sat at the back. No one paid us any attention. Rima smoked, staring out of the window. As we came down the main road to the waterfront, she began to sneeze.

Soon after seven o’clock the next morning, I woke out of a restless sleep, and staring up at the ceiling, I thought back on the previous night. I felt pretty bad.

I had had only three or four hours’ sleep. Most of the night I had thought of the guard and how Rima had shot him.

She had gone to her room when we had got back, and I had heard her snivelling and sneezing for an hour until I thought the sound would drive me crazy. Then I heard her go out and I guessed she was going to hunt for some sucker to buy her a shot.

I was asleep when she came in. I was aware of her door shutting but I was so tired, I turned over and went off to sleep again.

Now, lying in bed, with the sun coming around the edges of the blind, I wondered what I had best do.

I had to leave town. I didn’t dare stay here any longer. I would see Rusty, borrow the fare from him, and I’d leave this morning.

There was a train out around eleven o’clock.

My bedroom door opened abruptly and Rima came in. She was dressed, wearing her red shirt and her skin tight jeans. She looked pale and her eyes were glittering unnaturally. She had had her shot all right.

She stood at the foot of the bed, looking at me.

‘What do you want?’ I said. ‘Get out of here!’

‘I’m going to the Studios. Aren’t you coming?’

‘Are you crazy? I wouldn’t go back there for al the money in the world.’

She wrinkled her nose at me, her eyes contemptuous.

‘I’m not going to pass up that job. If I do, it’l be the last I’l get. What are you going to do then?’

‘I’m leaving town. Have you forgot en you killed a man last night or is it just one of those things you can brush off?’

She smiled.

‘They think you did it.’

That brought me bolt upright in bed.

‘Me? What do you mean?’

‘Relax. No one killed anyone. He’s not dead.’

I threw off the sheet and swung my feet to the floor.

‘How do you know?’

‘It’s in the paper.’

‘Where is it?’

‘It was outside one of the rooms.’

‘Well, don’t stand there! Get it!’

‘It’s gone now.’

I felt like strangling her.

‘They real y say he isn’t dead?’

She nodded, her eyes bored.

‘Yes.’

I reached for a cigarette and lit it with a shaking hand. The surge of relief that ran through me left me breathless.

‘Where do you get that line about me kil ing him?’ I demanded.

‘He’s given the cops a description of you. They’re looking for a man with a scarred face.’

‘Don’t give me that! It was you who shot him!’

‘He didn’t see me! He saw you!’

‘He knows I didn’t shoot him,’ I said, trying to keep my voice down. ‘He knows I was facing the wall when you shot at him! He must know I didn’t do it!’

She shrugged her shoulders indifferently.

‘Al I know is the police are looking for a man with a scar. You’d bet er watch out.’

By now I was ready to hit the ceiling.

‘Get me a paper! Do you hear? Get me a paper!’

‘Stop shouting. Do you want everyone to hear you? I’ve got to catch the bus to the Studio. Maybe you’d bet er stay here and not show yourself.’

I grabbed hold of her arm.

‘Where did you get the gun from?’

‘It belonged to Wilbur. Let go of me!’ She jerked free. ‘Don’t lose your nerve. I’ve been in worse jams than this. If you keep under cover for a couple of days, you’l be al right. Then you can get out of town, but don’t try to go before.’

‘Once they get a lead on me, this will be the first place they’ll come to!’

‘Oh, quiet down!’ Her tone of contempt maddened me. ‘You’re yellow. Keep your nerve and you’ll be all right. Just relax, can’t you? You’re boring me.’

I caught her by the throat and slammed her against the wall. Then I slapped her face: bang!… bang!…

bang! I wasn’t proud of myself for hitting her, but I had to. She was so rotten I had no answer to her attitude but to hit her.

I let go of her and stood away from her, panting.

‘I’m scared!’ I said. ‘I’m scared because I have some decency left in me. You! You have nothing.

You’re rot en through and through! I wish I never had anything to do with you! Get out!’

She leaned against the wall, her face where I had hit her red as fire, her eyes glowing with hate.

‘I won’t forget that, you skunk,’ she said. ‘I’ve a lot to remember you by. One of these days, I’l even the score. I hope he dies and I hope you go to the gas chamber!’

I threw the bedroom door open.

‘Get out!’ I yelled at her.

She went out and I slammed the door after her.

For a long moment I stood motionless, trying to control my breathing. Then I went over to the mirror and stared at my white, frightened face. I looked at the thin scar that ran down the side of my jaw. If the guard had described that to the police I was cooked.

I was stiff with panic. My one thought now was to get away and go home, but if the police were already looking for me, it would be asking for trouble to show myself on the streets in daylight.

I heard Carrie come thumping up the stairs. I opened the door.

‘Do me a favour,’ I said. ‘I’m staying in today. Get me a paper, will you?’

She looked sharply at me.

‘I ain’t got time, Mr. Jeff. I’ve got work to do.’

‘It’s important. Can’t you borrow one for me?’ I had to make an effort to keep calm. ‘Try and get me one, Carrie.’

‘I’ll see. Are you sick?’

‘I’m not feeling too bright. Get that paper for me.’

She nodded and went off downstairs.

I got back into bed, lit another cigarette and waited. I had to wait half an hour, and by then I was in a terrible state of nerves. Then I heard her lumbering up the stairs again. I jumped out of bed and went to the door.