James Chase - You Must Be Kidding

He would have to tell Lepski the whole sordid story. He was sure the story would leak. Then there was Boone. He was sure Boone would post the blackmailing letters. It was all very well for Karen to say she could handle her father, but he was sure Sternwood would get rid of him. Then there was Betty!

He took another drink.

His life had come to a standstill. It was in ruins!

Then he heard the doorbell ring.

Lepski!

He got unsteadily to his feet. The end of his road, he told himself.

He walked from the living room, into the lobby, and bracing himself, he opened the front door.

Karen said, ‘Let me in quick. No one has seen me,’ and she pushed by him as he hastily shut the front door.

He stared at her.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Man! Have you been drinking!’ Karen said, and hip-swished into the living room.

She was wearing a tight-fitting, emerald green frock. Her breasts pointed at him as he stood in the doorway, bewildered and trying to focus.

‘What is it? Why are you here?’

‘Look.’ She held out her hand. In her palm was a golf ball button.

Ken peered.

‘That’s what you want, isn’t it?’ she said, smiling at him. ‘I told you I would fix it.’

Ken came into the room. The sight of the button, lying on her palm, slightly sobered him.

‘Where did it come from?’

She laughed.

‘No problem. I went to Levine’s shop. They were busy. I cut the button off one of his jackets, then I walked out. They didn’t even notice me. No problem. They’ll think the button fell off. Pleased?’

Ken reached for the button. He suddenly felt ten years younger.

Her fingers closed over the button as she continued to smile at him.

‘Where’s your bedroom, Ken? Let’s celebrate,’ and with a quick movement, she was out of her dress, standing, naked before him. ‘A button for a screw,’ she said. ‘Fair enough?’

Ken looked at her.

Just for a brief moment he reminded himself this was Betty’s home as well as his. The bed was Betty’s as well as his. The Scotch destroyed these reminders. He saw only this beautiful, sensually built body.

Catching hold of her, he guided her along the corridor to the bedroom.

The sound of persistent ringing on his front door bell brought Ken abruptly awake. As he sat up, what felt like a hammer crashed inside his head. He groaned, clutching his head in his hands. He threw off the sheets as the ringing of the bell persisted, swung his feet onto the bedside mat, still holding his head, his eyes shut.

The bell continued to ring, driving hot wires through his head.

God! he thought, I must have been good and drunk last night! Who the hell is this? What’s the time?

He forced his eyes to open. Sunshine was streaming into the room. His eyes went to the bedside clock. 08.15!

As he staggered to his feet, his head expanded and contracted and again he released a groan.

Goddamn that bell!

He found he was naked. He reached for and put on his dressing gown.

‘What’s the excitement about?’ Karen asked from the bed.

He spun around and stared at her. She was sitting up, naked, and blinking in the sunshine.

A wave of horror ran through him. Last night came into focus. He now remembered she had given him the button and they had gone to bed together. He had been far too drunk to remember what happened, but he could guess.

What the hell was happening to him? To have taken this little bitch into Betty’s bed! The horror of doing such a thing sobered him.

‘Someone’s at the door,’ he said feverishly. ‘Get out of sight!’

‘Poor Kenny,’ Karen jeered as she slid out of bed. ‘Always in a panic.’

He went unsteadily down the corridor and jerked open the front door. Standing on the doorstep was Lepski, with Max Jacoby behind him.

Ken stared at them. The hammer inside his head increased its blows. He was suddenly wildly angry.

‘What the hell do you want?’ he shouted.

Lepski looked him over. Boy! he thought, has this creep had a night out!

‘Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Brandon,’ he said in his cold cop voice. ‘I want to talk more about those golf ball buttons.’

Ken fought down his fury. He had to be careful. In a milder voice, he said, ‘I was going to call you this morning. I’ve found the buttons. Look I’m late. I overslept. I have to get to work.’

Lepski squinted at him.

‘You found them?’

‘They were in my wife’s button box. I looked and found them.’

Lepski made a suggestive move forward.

‘Can I see them, Mr. Brandon?’

Ken stepped back, wondering where Karen was. He led the two detectives into the living room, went to the button box, then remembered he had left the buttons in his jacket pocket.

‘Wait!’ he said, and went to the bedroom. Karen was out of sight. He guessed she would be in the bathroom. He snatched up his jacket which was lying on a chair as Lepski came to the doorway.

Lepski saw at once that two people had been occupying the big bed. Both pillows were indented.

Taking the buttons from the jacket pocket, Ken moved forward, crowding Lepski back.

‘Here they are. Now for God’s sake, stop bothering me!’

Lepski counted the buttons, then as Ken continued to move forward, he allowed himself to be directed back to the living room.

‘They seem to be all here, Mr. Brandon,’ Lepski said. ‘I’d like to see the jacket again.’

Ken dashed back to the bedroom, snatched the jacket from the closet, then returned to the living room. He thrust the jacket at Lepski.

Lepski counted the buttons, found none missing and was baffled.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I hope I don’t have to trouble you again.’

‘I don’t see why you should. You’ve caused me enough trouble!’ Ken snapped.

Lepski gave him his wolfish smile.

‘This is a murder investigation, Mr. Brandon. Odd things happen. Do you mind if I take the jacket and the duplicate buttons? I won’t keep them long.’

‘Take them! I don’t want to see the jacket ever again! Throw it away!’ Ken exclaimed, nearly beside himself.

‘You’ll feel better after a strong coffee,’ Lepski said. ‘I’ll return the jacket,’ and nodding to Jacoby, he let himself out.

Ken slammed the front door and locked it, then he went back to the bedroom.

Karen was dressed and combing her hair before Betty’s mirror. The sight of her using Betty’s comb sickened him.

‘Your little pals satisfied?’ she asked.

‘I was drunk!’ Ken exploded. ‘I—’

‘All right, all right,’ Karen said and laughed. ‘Don’t vent your guilty conscience on me. You never stopped screwing me all night! I told you the reservoir would fill up.’

Ken felt like killing her. He went into the bathroom, slammed the door, shaved hurriedly. Not bothering to shower, he returned to the bedroom and flung on his clothes. He could hear Karen in the kitchen.

‘Want coffee?’ she called.

He put on his loafers, then went into the kitchen. She had just made a pot of coffee. She poured and sipped.

‘Hmm... nice. Have a cup?’

‘I want you out of here!’ he said violently.

‘Oh, do shut up!’ There was a snap in her voice. ‘You creeps with hot pants are all the same. Once you’ve had it, you turn into saints. You’d better get the bed fixed: telltale evidence,’ and she giggled. ‘Get everything to the laundry.’ She finished the coffee. ‘Don’t stand there like a constipated camel! Come on! I’ll help you.’

Ken suddenly remembered the cleaning woman would be arriving at 09.00. He hurried into the bedroom and stripped off the sheets and pillow slips. Using fresh sheets, they remade the bed. He bundled the soiled sheets together.