Джеймс Чейз - Not Safe to Be Free [= The Case of the Strangled Starlet]

“You mean he didn’t commit suicide? That someone strangled him?”

Mathieu shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know, but the bruise worries me.”

“And the second point?”

“You remember I told you I found skin under the girl’s fingernails indicating that she badly scratched her killer? This man has no scratches on his body.”

Devereaux made a movement of exasperation.

“You are sure she scratched her killer?”

“There’s no doubt about it.”

“And there’re no scratches of any kind on this man?”

“None.”

Devereaux exchanged glances with Guidet.

“The finger-prints?”

“They’re being checked now.”

As Dr. Mathieu moved down the stairs, Devereaux took the ten franc piece from his pocket and stared at it, then he called Lemont.

“You were watching outside the hotel. Did you see a man enter on his own?”

Lemont shook his head.

“No, Inspector. Every man who came here had a woman with him.”

The finger-print expert came out into the passage.

“The print we found on the bead in suite 30 of the Plaza hotel doesn’t match any of Kerr’s prints.”

Devereaux swore softly under his breath, then he thought for a moment.

“Go into that room,” he said, pointing to the room at the head of the stairs, “and check the prints on the electric light bulb.”

The finger-print expert went down the corridor and entered the room in which Jay had hidden.

There was a long pause while Devereaux continued to lean against the wall, smoking, his face set in a heavy scowl.

Recognizing the scowl as a danger sign that the Inspector was testy and tired, both Guidet and Lemont kept quiet.

A few minutes later, the finger-print expert came out of the room.

“A good guess, Inspector. There’s a print on the lamp bulb that matches the one on the bead. No doubt about it.”

Devereaux dropped his half-smoked cigarette on the floor, then stepped viciously on it.

“So we haven’t solved the case,” he said. “I had an idea it was too simple. Well, all right. We’ll start again. At least we know whoever made that print is our man. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find him.” He beckoned to Guidet. “Come with me. We’ll go to the Plaza hotel and we’ll make a fresh start.”

Lemont watched the two men walk down the stairs, then he took out a packet of cigarettes, lit a cigarette and gratefully inhaled the smoke.

With her back against the wall, Sophia watched the bathroom door swing silently open.

She was tense and her face was hard and pale and she was breathing rapidly, but she was much more curious than afraid.

She had sensed the sudden change in Jay while they had been talking and she had a feeling that he intended to silence her. She felt she had to find out just how dangerous he was and, if he turned out to be as dangerous as she suspected, then she would no longer hesitate: she would tell Floyd and take her chance about getting into trouble with the police.

Her experience as a prostitute had equipped her to deal with all kinds of neurotic men and there had been several occasions when her clients had turned out to be dangerous, but in each case she had been able to quell them.

She didn’t think for a moment that she couldn’t handle Jay and she deliberately left the door between her room and Floyd’s unlocked to see if Jay dare come into her room.

To make sure of her own safety, she had taken with her into the bathroom the .25 automatic that Floyd had given her when they had been filming in the Mau-Mau country during the early part of the year.

Sophia had no experience of guns, but Floyd had made her fire the gun several times to get her used to handling it, but she didn’t like the noise and had put the gun away, saying that, as she didn’t intend leaving Floyd’s side while they were in the jungle, he could do the shooting and she the screaming.

She carried the gun around with her on their travels because she liked its appearance. It had a mother-of-pearl handle and her initials let into the butt in gold.

She took the gun into the bathroom, not because she thought she would need it, but as a precaution. If Jay dared to come into her room, she was confident he would quickly come to heel when she turned the broadside of her tongue on him. Sophia hadn’t forgotten how to tongue-lash a man, although it was now some years since she had had to use her startling vituperation.

Jay came to an abrupt standstill when he found himself face to face with Sophia. He stood motionless in the doorway, his right hand hidden behind his back, his head cocked a little on one side, his left hand holding on to the door handle.

For a second or so they confronted each other, then Sophia said in a cold, hard voice: “What do you think you are doing in here?”

The tip of Jay’s tongue came out and moved over his lips. The movement made Sophia think of a snake.

“I’m sorry, Sophia,” he said softly and the tone of his voice was so menacing that it made her stiffen. “I promise you it won’t hurt and it will be very quick. You shouldn’t have been so interfering.”

She then saw it had been a mistake to have put this to a test. The bleak expression on his face, the twitching muscle near his right eye, the thinness of his mouth made him a frightening stranger to her.

“Get out!” she cried. “If you don’t get out at once, I’ll tell your father!”

The thin lips moved into their meaningless smile.

“I don’t think so, Sophia. I don’t think you will tell anyone.”

He moved silently into the bathroom and it was then she saw the heavy paperweight in his hand.

“Jay! I’m warning you! If you don’t get out I’ll shoot you!” Sophia exclaimed and lifted the gun and pointed it at him.

He paused, staring at the gun.

“Go on! Get out!”

Then he began to move forward again, his shoulders hunched, the paperweight balanced in his hand.

“Jay!”

He was almost within reach of her now. He seemed to be paying no attention at all to the gun she was pointing at him. He was muttering under his breath. She caught the words. “I’m sorry... locked away in a home... a mistake... ” Then she realized with a shrinking feeling of horror that she would have to shoot him. She lifted the gun to point at his shoulder and her hesitation was fatal.

He suddenly sprang forward as she pulled the trigger.

In that split second of terror, she realized she had forgotten to take off the safety catch on the gun. She saw Jay’s hand flash up. She tried to get out of his way, but her movements were much too late.

A blinding light exploded inside her head as the paperweight caught her on the temple. Her knees buckled, the gun dropped out of her hand and she slid to the floor at Jay’s feet.

Moving swiftly, Jay put the paperweight down on the toilet table. He reached over Sophia’s still body and picked up the gun, which he thrust into his hip pocket.

He felt calm and elated and very sure of himself. Quickly, he rolled up his sleeves, then he bent over Sophia and stared at the broken, bruised skin by her temple. He rolled her over on her face, then stripped off her wrap.

He kept thinking to himself that this was so easy. Nothing could stop him now. Once she was dead, he would be completely safe.

He dragged Sophia’s naked and unconscious body over to the bath, which was half full of tepid water. Bending over her, he lifted her and slid her down into the water, being careful to have her head towards the taps.

She stirred slightly and moaned.

He stepped quickly to the other end of the bath, reached into the water and took hold of her ankles. His lips were drawn into a tight, fixed smile as he lifted her ankles, pulling her forward so that her head and face went under the water.