James Chase - You Must Be Kidding

Lepski gaped at him.

‘You? Get the reward? You tell me whenever any cop got any reward.’

‘Just a thought,’ Jacoby shrugged. ‘What do we do? Tell the Chief?’

‘Not yet. I’ll do something. Come on, let’s get back.’

As they left the restaurant, Lepski patted Jacoby on his broad back.

‘One of these days, Max, you’re going to make a great cop — like me.’ Then seeing a telephone booth, he went on, ‘Hold it! I better have a word with Carroll. Boy! Is she going to be sore!’

Jacoby waited patiently. Finally, Lepski came out of the booth, beaming.

‘You know something, Max? She took it like a soldier. No problems. She’s going to wait. How many wives would do that?’

‘Don’t ask me,’ Jacoby said. ‘I’m not married.’

When Crispin had left her, Amelia sat, staring blankly at the opposite wall. While she stared, she wrestled with her conscience. She knew she should telephone the police and tell them that her son was a homicidal maniac and he was planning yet another murder. But she couldn’t bring herself to do this.

After all, she tried to convince herself, Reynolds was old and a hopeless drunk. With him out of the way, Crispin might just settle down and these dreadful murders might cease. Sometime tonight, Crispin would dispose of Reynolds. She refused to let her mind dwell on how Crispin would get rid of the body. What was this telephone call Crispin had received from this man, Kendriek. The police?

Amelia got unsteadily to her feet. She couldn’t stay a moment longer in the house! She would go to the Spanish Bay hotel. They were always kind to her. She would stay there until this dreadful affair was concluded.

She walked heavily to her bedroom. This was the moment when she missed Reynolds who always packed for her. She took a suitcase from the closet and packed what she thought she would need. As she was closing the lid of the suitcase, Crispin appeared in the doorway.

‘Very wise, mother,’ he said, smiling at her. ‘Where will you stay?’

‘The Spanish Bay hotel,’ Amelia said in a stifled voice.

Crispin nodded.

‘There is nothing to worry about. I will telephone you when you can return.’

‘I couldn’t but help to overhear,’ Amelia said, breathing heavily. ‘This man, Kendriek. Why was there talk about the police?’

‘Come along, mother!’ There was a sudden snap in Crispin’s voice. ‘I will carry your suitcase. Use the Rolls. I won’t need it for a while.’

‘Crispin!’ Amelia made a last feeble effort. ‘My son! Please...’

Crispin’s eyes lit up, and once again he looked like her Uncle Martin.

‘Come along!’ he snarled. ‘I want you out of here! And remember... say nothing!’

Defeated and frightened, Amelia followed him out of the house. Crispin put her suitcase in the trunk of the Rolls, then as she settled her bulk behind the driving wheel, he leaned forward and stared at her.

‘I will telephone you in a day or so. I must arrange for someone to take care of you. Say nothing! There is nothing to worry about.’

Shaking, her hands trembling, Amelia somehow started the engine. Her last thought, as she drove away, was of Reynolds.

Kendriek paced the big living room of his apartment while Louis, in a furious temper, sat on the edge of a chair, glaring at him. Kendriek had spoilt Louis’s Sunday: such a lovely boy and so willing. He hadn’t dared leave the boy in his apartment. The very young were so unreliable, and Louis had many choice possessions that could have tempted the boy. He had bundled him out, protesting, so he could rush over to Kendriek.

‘I thought it wise, so I telephoned Mr. Gregg to explain the position,’ Kendriek said. ‘He turned exceedingly unpleasant. He says if I mention his name to the police, he would close down the gallery. He sounded vicious enough to do just that. He has money to buy me out.’

‘Why should he do that unless he has something to hide?’ Louis demanded.

‘Perhaps he does have something to hide. I don’t know. I don’t want to know. When Lepski comes tomorrow, cheri, we tell him nothing.’

‘There’s a two hundred thousand dollar reward!’ Louis unearned. ‘I heard it on the radio before I left. Do you call that nothing?’

Kendriek stared at Louis, his little eyes turning to stone.

‘Listen, fool!’ he said, a rasp in his voice. ‘Once a police informer, always a police informer. I promised Gregg not to say he was the painter of this abortion of his. If I tell the police, the word will leak. No one, in the future, will touch us!’

‘So you are going to lie to Lepski!’ Louis shrilled. ‘That will make you an accessory to murder! You are out of your mind!’

‘We don’t know Gregg has anything to do with these murders!’ Kendriek shouted. ‘Lepski says Gregg’s painting is connected with these murders, but he doesn’t say why. Suppose we told Lepski that Gregg did the painting and the police interrogate Gregg. He will know we have informed! Then suppose the police can prove nothing against Gregg? Then we have Gregg ruining us and the word will leak we have informed. Use your brains, cheri! We say nothing.’

Louis jumped to his feet.

‘I will not be involved in this!’ he cried, stamping his foot. ‘You have spoilt my day! You lie to Lepski! I will not have anything to do with it!’

‘Louis.’ Kendriek’s voice turned quiet. ‘You are forgetting yourself. Once an informer, always an informer. Have you forgotten Kenny? How old was he... seven? The police are still hunting for his ravisher, Louis. Kenny could pick this man from a lineup. Once an informer, always an informer.’

Blood drained out of Louis’s face.

‘Behave yourself, cheri,’ Kendriek said and smiled. ‘No more hysterics. If necessary you will lie to Lepski.’ He took off his wig and handed it to Louis. ‘Comb it, cheri.’

With a shaking hand, Louis took out his pocket comb.

Ken Brandon found Mary Goodall, his previous head office secretary, waiting outside the Secomb office of the Paradise Assurance Corporation. To say he was pleased to see her would be an understatement. Middle aged, plump and utterly efficient, Mary Goodall, to him in this present mood, was a gift from the gods.

They greeted each other, then Ken unlocked the office door, and they entered.

‘How is Judge Lacey?’ Mary asked as she surveyed the outer office.

‘It’s miraculous. We really thought he was gone, but he has made a remarkable recovery. The doctor says, with care, he could last sometime yet.’

‘I’m so glad. And Betty?’

‘She came back with me last night. Her sister is staying with Mrs. Lacey.’ He saw Mary’s expression as she looked around the office. ‘I’m afraid this dump isn’t what you are used to, Mary, but I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you here.’

‘Mr. Sternwood’s secretary phoned me yesterday, telling me to take over.’ Mary grimaced, then smiled. ‘It’s not quite as bad as I had imagined.’ Then her smile faded as she went on, ‘What a terrible thing to have happened! Poor Mr. Sternwood! He was so proud of his daughter!’

Ken flinched, then he walked to Karen’s desk and looked at the letters and papers she had left.

‘They must find this dreadful maniac,’ Mary went on. ‘This enormous reward Mr. Sternwood is offering. Two hundred thousand dollars! Surely someone will come forward.’

Ken couldn’t bear to think of Karen and her dreadful end.

‘I hope so,’ he muttered, picked up the letters and papers and moved to his office. ‘I’ll deal with these, Mary. Suppose you go through the files and get the photo of what we have been doing.’ Leaving her, he went into his office, closed the door and sat at his desk.