Джеймс Чейз - Do Me a Favour Drop Dead

A long pause, then Ross said, ‘You’re too late. I’ve fixed her and I’ve fixed you,’ and he gave a hysterical giggle that sent a surge of cold blood up my spine.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You made me do it! There was only one way out for me. I wanted to call the cops, but she wouldn’t let me! So as she couldn’t fix you, I’ve fixed her! I would rather spend fourteen years in a cell than walk into a bullet! I’ve called the police. They’ll protect me from you. They are on their way now.’

The cold dead finger crept up my spine.

‘Ross! What are you saying?’ I shouted.

He giggled again. He sounded slightly out of his head.

‘I worked it out. If she didn’t get the money, you wouldn’t shoot me. She came back and told me to get out. She said she had had enough of me. She said she would be glad if you shot me! She wouldn’t let me near the telephone. I wanted to call the police, so I fixed her. I hit her with an axe. Her brains are all over the goddamn room.’ He caught his breath in a sob. ‘The police are coming. I warned you... you made me kill her... I’ve had enough.’

I dropped the receiver on its cradle.

His voice, the hysterical giggles, the sob told me this wasn’t bluff.

My world began to fall to pieces. Even as I stood there, cold sweat running down my face, I heard the sound of a distant siren.

I had to get out!

I snatched up my suitcase and typewriter, ran down the path and got in my car. As I started the engine, a police car swept by.

As I drove down to the highway, panic gripped me. Ross would talk. He would tell the police the whole story, then they would come after me. Reaching the bottom of the road, I waited for the lights to change. Where would I go? Not to Wicksteed. I would head north.

The lights changed, but I didn’t drive forward. My brain was beginning to function: panic was subsiding.

Marshall’s murder was foolproof. I was sure of that. No matter what Ross said, the police wouldn’t be able to pin a murder rap on me. If I could keep my nerve, stand up to their questions, I could still get away with it, but not if I ran away.

As I was thinking, an ambulance stormed by me, heading for Apple Trees . Then two more police cars went by. Again panic nibbled at my mind.

I thought of Wicksteed. If I could beat the rap, I could go I back there. It was a gamble. It would be tough going with my I jail record, but what had I to lose? I could get away with it. It would be Ross’s word against mine. Maybe the police would be convinced I had killed Marshall, but they couldn’t prove it. It would depend on the jury. Everyone in Wicksteed liked me and they hated Beth. They wouldn’t believe I had murdered I Marshall. They would put all the blame on Beth and Ross.

Rather than run, I decided, I would gamble. I shifted into reverse and drove slowly back up the road towards Mrs. Brody’s house.

Then I remembered the Mauser. The gun would be a complete give away. It would support Ross’s story.

Pulling up, I took the gun from my hip-pocket. It wouldn’t take the police long to find the pawnbroker who had sold it to me and from him they would get my description. I remembered his long thoughtful stare as he sold me the gun. He would remember me all right. The police then would have a foot in the door and they would crowd around me, shouting questions, want to know why I had bought the gun if Ross was lying, why I was staying with Mrs. Brody under the name of Lucas. They would keep on and on and sooner or later, they would break me. I couldn’t face that. I looked at the Mauser. I would keep it with me. It offered a quick way out, but first, I would give them a run.

I turned into a lay-by, backed the car and headed back to the highway.

The sun was shining and the sky was blue as I headed north, I thought of the five years of hell I had spent in jail. I wasn’t going to spend another fourteen years locked in a cell. I patted the Mauser: a quick way out.

As I drove I thought of Frank Marshall. Drunk though he had been, he wasn’t a bad guy. I thought of Wicksteed and all the nice people who lived there, but I had no thoughts of Beth.

Before long, the police would catch up with me, but I still had some money and my freedom for a few more days.

As I trod down on the gas pedal, I touched the Mauser again.