Джеймс Чейз - Goldfish Have No Hiding Place

‘I’m trusting you,’ she said. ‘I’ll give you the film, but you will give me the money, won’t you?’

‘Boy scout’s honour.’

She giggled. She was still very drunk.

‘This is the first time I’ve ever trusted any man in my whole life.’

‘You have to begin sometime, baby.’

I looked at the dashboard clock. The time was 23.15. Even though it was late, I wasn’t risking driving up to Gordy’s house. Goldstein could have a cop staked out there.

My garage doors were open. I drove the Merc straight in, got out, shut the doors, turned on the light as Freda came weaving out.

‘Where’s this?’ she asked, clutching hold of my arm.

‘My home. Come on in. I’ll get you a drink.’

‘That’s talking.’

I unlocked the door into the house and together we moved into the living room.

‘Hey!’ She weaved and peered. ‘This is nice.’

‘Sit down.’

I led her to a chair and parked her. She lay back, staring around.

I pulled the curtains, then fixed her a mild gin and tonic.

‘Let’s talk, baby,’ I said, sitting close to her. ‘Just relax and tell me about Gordy.’

‘What about him? He’s dead.’

‘That’s right. How did you meet him?’

‘Last summer. Why should you care?’ She sipped her drink, then put the glass on the occasional table by her. ‘He had got this job at the stores. His wife had left him. He had a little money. A guy needs a woman from time to time. We clicked. There was something about him that got to me. He was always talking about what he would do if he could get hold of big money.’ She grimaced. ‘Most men talk that way. Then one night while we were in bed, he told me about this scanner thing. He said he could raise a million dollars. We were both pretty drunk, but he seemed so sure.’

‘A million dollars?’

‘That’s what he said. I told him he was crazy, but he kept on and on. Then I got scared. I told him he could run into trouble. He knew that. He said he had a lot of little suckers on the film, but the scanner had caught a big one as well. He said the payoff would be a million. He said if I would help him, as soon as he got the money, we would take off and we’d settle together.’ She peered at me. ‘I’m shooting off, aren’t I?’

‘You’re doing all right,’ I said. I was thinking fast. The only man living on Eastlake who could pay out a million was Creeden. A million. A lot of little suckers and a big one! So, suppose Gordy had caught ten little suckers, including me and Brenner. That could give him two hundred thousand. Creeden could be good for eight. If that wasn’t a motive to kill Gordy what was? ‘How did you help him?’

‘He wanted to spread the risk. He kept the film and he gave me the blow-ups.’

‘You have them?’

‘Have I hell! How was I to know anyone would bust into my place? Okay, I drink. I’m a careless bitch. I didn’t take all this talk about a million seriously. Jesse gave me a parcel and told me to hide it. I shoved it in a drawer and forgot about it. Then the night he died, I remembered it and looked for it and it was gone. I blew my stupid mind and I telephoned him, but there was no answer. I drove over to his house and found him dead.’ She grimaced and reached for the glass.

That jelled. I remembered when I was standing over Gordy’s body, the telephone had rung.

‘Did he tell you who the big sucker was?’

She sipped, put down the glass, then shook her head.

I got to my feet.

‘I’m going to change. You sit still. Later, I’ll go to Gordy’s house.’ I paused, then asked as casually as I could, ‘Where do I find the film?’

She studied me, her eyes trying to focus.

‘You’re going to give me the money?’

‘Boy scout’s honour.’

‘Fifteen hundred bucks?’

‘Boy scout’s honour.’

‘Will you swear by your mother’s grave you will give me the money?’

‘Boy scout’s honour is better.’

She thought about this, then nodded.

‘Okay... always the sucker. It’s in the bottom drawer of his desk.’

I stared at her.

‘Don’t give me that crap! The police would have looked there!’

She shook her head.

‘Jesse was smart. There’s a false bottom. He had a cabinet maker fix it. There’s a hidden catch under the desk. That’s where it is.’

I left her, took a shower and changed into dark casuals.

It was worth a try.

The time was just after midnight.

I armed myself with a small powerful flashlight and a heavy screwdriver. I returned to the living room. She was sleeping. She had dropped her glass and there was a small puddle of gin and water by her.

I left her, and headed for Gordy’s house.

I approached Gordy’s house with stealth, pausing every twenty yards to listen and peer into the gloom. No one was walking his dog. I passed two houses still emitting the sound of television. I was tense, wondering if I was going to walk into a cop. When I was in sight of the house, I stepped off the road and got behind a tree. I watched and waited.

There were no signs of life. I didn’t hurry. I had plenty of time. After some fifteen minutes, I began to assure myself that there was no cop around so I moved out of my cover and cautiously reached the house. There was no light showing. Was there a cop sitting in the living room in the dark? Moving silently, I stepped onto the small grass lawn and made my way around to the back of the house. Here, I paused and surveyed the scene: there was nothing to survey, so nerving myself, I moved up to the back door. It was locked of course. The police wouldn’t have left it unlocked that was why I had brought the screwdriver.

A quick look at the lock in the light of my flash showed me it was flimsy. I inserted the screwdriver and levered gently. After a little more pressure the lock sprang and the door opened. There had been a minimum of noise. I didn’t move into the darkness, but stood, listening. I only heard the thump of my heartbeats. I turned on my flash, found I was in a small kitchen, entered and closed the door. I eased open the kitchen door, paused to listen again, then sent the beam of my flash down the short corridor which ended at the front door. I remembered the living room lay to my left.

I moved silently down the corridor until I reached the living room door which was closed. I hesitated. If a cop was sitting in there, waiting, I would be in real trouble. As I stood, sweating, I told myself I would be in more trouble if I didn’t get the film.

I turned the handle and opened the door. Faint moonlight came through the big window. I looked around. No one sprang at me. No bawling cop voice challenged me. I moved into the room, closing the door and fumbled my way to the window. I pulled the flimsy curtains. I couldn’t risk turning on the electric light.

I located the desk. It stood in a corner. I crossed to it, knelt and examined the underneath in the light of my flash. It took me several seconds to find a tiny wooden knob. If Freda hadn’t told me, I would have missed it.

I pulled open the bottom drawer which was full of account books and old cheque stubs. I scooped these onto the floor, then reaching under the desk, I pressed the knob. The bottom of the drawer moved back four inches and there lying in the hollow was a carton of 16 mm film.

I knelt there, staring at it, scarcely believing my eyes, then I snatched it up and put it on the desk. I pressed the knob again, closing the partition, then carefully returned the junk I had spilled on the floor.

Picking up the carton, I moved fast to the door and into the corridor.

Maybe he had been in the house all the time or maybe he had been hiding in the garden and had followed me in. That’s something I didn’t discover.