Джеймс Чейз - Do Me a Favour Drop Dead

Without looking at her, I opened the door, stepped out into the hall, then walked without hurrying down the garden path, on to the dirt road and back to Mrs. Brody’s house.

Now it was up to her and as sure as I was feeling the hot sun on my back, I would kill Ross if she didn’t play.

Back in my room, I sat down, lit a cigarette, and took stock.

Beth now knew she was no longer dealing with a sucker. I had put my cards on the table: pay up or you lose your boyfriend. Knowing her, I was sure she wouldn’t part with five hundred thousand dollars without a fight. But what would she do?

I tried to put myself in her place and to think as she must be thinking now. Would she tell Ross? If she did, how would Ross react? He was a tough, ex-cop, but he could have a yellow streak. He couldn’t run to the Frisco cops to help him. They would want to know what it was all about and he was in no position to answer probing questions.

After some thought, it seemed to me, Beth and he had only two alternatives: to pay up or to kill me before I killed him.

If Ross was a killer, why hadn’t he murdered Marshall instead of dragging me into the act as their cat’s paw? It was possible he hadn’t the guts to kill, but I knew she had. Still, I warned myself, I mustn’t underestimate Ross. He could turn killer to keep that money.

I had told her I was having him watched. Would they believe that? The fact that I had told her I knew they were planning to go to Miami must have made an impact. Suppose they decided to make a run for it... leave in the middle of the night and vanish? Maybe they would decide the risk was too great. They couldn’t be sure I wasn’t watching and Ross could walk into a bullet.

Suppose Ross decided to hunt for me? They might guess I was somewhere on this estate. I was pretty sure Mrs. Brody had told her neighbours she had a lodger. Was Ross in the position to make inquiries? I thought not. According to Mrs. Brody and what he had said, no one on the estate approved of Beth nor of Ross. No one was friendly with them, but there were people like the milkman, the postman and the newsboy. Mrs. Brody might talk to them and Ross, with his police training, might learn from them about Mrs. Brody’s new lodger.

If they guessed I was holed up in the small back room, watching them, what could they do about it? Would Ross, with a gun, break in one night? He just might, but I had a gun too and he now knew it. Would he have the guts? If he chickened out, how about Beth? She might.

Getting up, I examined the door of my bedroom. It was solid and had an old fashioned mortice lock. Neither Beth nor Ross could take me by surprise and if they tried to, it would end in a shootout with Mrs. Brody screaming for the police. I decided as long as I remained in the room, I was safe. I had another five days to the end of the week. I could stay in this room for five days with no sweat.

Because I was sure there would be no action until Ross returned at 18.00, I lay on the bed and took a nap. For all I knew I might have to sit up all the night.

I didn’t wake up until Mrs. Brody came tapping on the door with my dinner at 19.15.

Cursing myself for over sleeping, I let Mrs. Brody in.

‘I guess I was taking a nap,’ I said as she put down the tray.

‘Just cold cuts tonight, but there’s a nice salad,’ she said. ‘I’m going to the movies.’

‘That’s fine. Have a good time.’

‘If you want to watch TV, you’re welcome.’

‘Not tonight, thanks.’

When she had gone, I went over to the window and took up the field glasses. Although it was still light, the red curtains were drawn. I would have given a lot to know what was going on in that big comfortable room. Had Beth told him?

I hurriedly ate the meal. As I finished I heard the front door slam. I sat down and watched the red curtains. When it grew dark, the lights behind the curtains went on. I watched for the next three hours, but nothing happened. Around 22.30, I heard Mrs. Brody come in and go to her room. I stayed watching Apple Trees until the lights went out in the living room and came up in one of the bedrooms.

Then unlocking my door, I went silently down to the living room. I had already got Beth’s telephone number from the book and I dialled the number.

There was a long delay, then she said, ‘Who is it?’

‘I’m watching the end of your lane, Beth,’ I said. ‘Sleep well,’ and I hung up.

If that didn’t stick, nothing would, so I returned to my room and went to bed.

The pattern of their lives changed the following morning.

Ross didn’t leave the bungalow as usual at ten o’clock. So she had told him! Nor did she leave to go shopping and the red curtains remained drawn. The newsboy arrived and tossed a paper on their porch, but neither of them came out to collect it.

A sign of nerves?

I thought so... a good sign for me.

I found it a strain to spend the whole day watching, but I watched. There was no sign of either of them. I had plenty of time to think and I decided to make things tricky for them if they decided to bolt.

So around one in the morning, when I was sure Mrs. Brody was asleep, I slipped out of the house and made my way to Apple Trees .

The bungalow was in darkness, but I took my time approaching it. I had had a lot of experience in jungle fighting and I knew how to approach a hostile objective silently and without being seen.

I reached the carport. The car door was unlocked. I opened the hood. Then using my flashlight, I removed the distributor head which I dropped into my pocket. I closed the hood, then returned the way I had come.

There would now be no quick packing and bolting, I thought, and undressing I got into bed.

The following day Beth went off on the motor scooter, but Ross didn’t show nor were the red curtains drawn back. I was beginning to think I had him scared, but I was taking no chances. I kept my bedroom door locked and kept a constant vigil at the window.

Beth got back in under an hour.

Two more days to go.

When Mrs. Brody had gone out, I went into her living room and called Beth’s number.

When she answered, I said, ‘If lover boy wants a slug in his guts, tell him to come looking for me tonight at the end of the lane. I’ll be waiting,’ and I hung up.

I was a great believer in a war of nerves.

I maintained my watch on the bungalow for the rest of the evening, but no one showed.

After dinner, I typed a message:

Only two more days, Beth. It is up to you.

Around midnight when the lights in the living room of Apple Trees were still on and Mrs. Brody was in bed, I left the house and made a cautious way to the bungalow. On the way there, I found a heavy stone. I tied my note to the stone with a piece of string I had brought with me.

I approached the bungalow. There was no sound from the television set and the windows were closed.

When I was close enough, I stood up and heaved the stone at the middle window of the living room. The glass smashed and the stone brushed by the flimsy red curtain and thumped on the floor.

The Mauser in my hand, I dropped flat and waited.

There was a long pause, then the lights went out.

I waited.

Here was the test. Would Ross show?

Nothing happened. I lay on the grass and waited. I waited for twenty minutes. No sound came from the bungalow: no lights showed.

Ross wasn’t coming out for a High Noon shoot up.

Gutless?

I edged my way back across the grass, then when I reached the dirt road, I stood up and walked back to my room.

One more day, I thought as I waited for Mrs. Brody to bring my breakfast. The set-up looked good to me. I had turned the screw last night and Ross hadn’t accepted the challenge. Had I been in his place, I knew that stone and the broken window would have been such a challenge, I would have come out fighting... but not Ross.