Джеймс Чейз - Safer Dead [= Dead Ringer]

‘This guy isn’t going to remain quiet for long,’ I said. ‘You’ve got things to tell me. I can take you somewhere where they won’t bother you. Do you want to come?’

‘There’s nothing else I can do now,’ she said, ‘not after this.’

‘Go and pack. I’ll take care of him.’

She got up and went slowly into the inner room.

I opened Juan’s coat, pulled it down over his elbows and fastened his wrists together with the belt I found around his waist. He opened his eyes as I rolled him over on to his back and he began to mumble.

I took the Colt and gave him a sharp rap on the top of his skull. His eyes snapped shut and he went limp again. I tied his ankles together with a curtain cord and gagged him with his handkerchief.

Satisfied he wouldn’t make a nuisance of himself for a while, I went into the inner room to see how Lydia was making out.

She was tossing garments into two suitcases; her movements showed her growing panic.

‘Take it easy,’ I said. ‘Nothing’s going to happen.’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘I was a fool to have listened to you.’

‘Relax. I’ll take care of you. Here, let me help you.’

‘No! I can manage.’ She shut the lid of one of the cases and began feverishly to complete the packing of the other. ‘I’ve got to get out of town. He’s been waiting for something like this to happen.’

‘Who’s been waiting? Royce?’

‘Yes.’ She shut the second case. ‘Where are you taking me?’

‘I’ve got a car outside. If you think you’ll be safer out of town, I’ll take you. Have you anywhere you can go?’

‘I’ve friends in Frisco. I should have gone to them before. Can you take me there to-night?’

‘Sure,’ I said, thinking I could talk to her on the way. I moved to the door. ‘While you change, I’ll watch Juan. Don’t be long.’

I went out and shut the door.

Juan was still unconscious. I sat down where I could see him and waited.

After twenty minutes or so, Lydia came out of her room. She was wearing a dark grey suit and she had a fur coat over her arm. Her face was fine drawn and white. She glanced quickly at Juan and then her eyes shifted.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said.

I went into her room and collected her two suitcases. As I re-entered the sitting-room, Juan gave a muffled groan and moved uneasily.

‘He’ll be all right,’ I said. ‘Come on.’

I went to the door, set down the cases, opened the door and stepped into the passage. At the far end I could see the front door. A man’s shadow lay across the glass panel: a short bulky man with shoulders that looked as wide as a house.

I stepped back quickly into the sitting-room, motioning Lydia to stay where she was. My warning gesture made her catch her breath sharply.

I peered cautiously into the passage. The front door was opening. I quickly shut Lydia’s apartment door.

‘What is it?’ she whispered.

‘There’s a guy out there.’

Softly I turned the key in the lock and waited, listening.

I heard soft footfalls coming down the passage. They stopped outside the door. Then I saw the door handle turn.

Lydia backed away, her face ashen, her hand to her mouth.

In the silence of the room, knuckles rapping on the door panel made a loud, startling sound.

I stepped away from the door as knuckles rapped again. Lydia asked in a voice no louder than the rustle of leaves, ‘Who is it?’

‘I don’t know. A short, thickset guy.’ My voice matched hers.

Her eyes dilated.

‘It’s Borg. He won’t be alone.’ She looked around the room wildly. ‘Don’t let him in.’

I saw the door handle turn, and a weight leaned against the door, making it creak.

I grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the bedroom, shut and locked the door.

‘You’ll have to leave your cases,’ I said, going over to the window. I raised it and looked out on to a strip of garden of dark shadows and shrubs. ‘We’ll go this way.’

She joined me. I picked her up and swung her through the window into the garden, then scrambled out after her.

‘My car’s at the corner. Can we get around to it?’

‘Yes. I’ll show you.’

She ran down the strip of lawn to a gate.

‘Let me go first,’ I said, pulling out Juan’s gun.

I opened the gate and stepped into a deserted alley that stretched away into darkness.

I started down the alley, moving quietly. Lydia followed, almost treading on my heels. I could hear her quick, frightened breathing. The end of the alley led out into a side street. At the top of the street I could see the gleam of my parking lights.

The street seemed empty. Taking Lydia’s arm and keeping in the shadows, I started towards the car.

‘Who’s this guy Borg?’ I asked her.

‘One of Royce’s men,’ she said. ‘They won’t let me get away.’

‘They haven’t got you yet.’

We reached within twenty feet of the Lincoln, then I stopped.

‘I’ll go first. You wait here. Be ready to move fast.’

I stepped away from her and cautiously moved to the street corner. I looked up Lennox Drive. A big car stood outside Lydia’s apartment house. A man stood by it, looking towards the house. I crossed the sidewalk to the Lincoln, opened the door and slid into the driving seat.

‘Come on!’ I called softly.

I had the engine running as she darted into the car, and the car moving as she slammed the door.

Maybe Benn had looked after the Lincoln, but as soon as I started to feed gas into the engine, I knew I wasn’t going to get much of a performance from it. This wasn’t a car to be in to shake off a fast pursuit.

The driving mirror remained dark: no tell-tale headlights showed behind me, and I hoped that our get-away hadn’t been spotted.

I swung the car on to the main road leading out of Tampa City and gradually built up the Lincoln’s speed to fifty-five. At that speed the car began to rock.

I took out a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and dropped it into her lap.

‘Light me one and have one yourself,’ I said, my eyes shifting to the driving mirror again to make sure no car was following us.

‘Can’t you go faster?’ she asked.

Her hands were shaking so badly she had trouble getting the cigarettes out of the pack.

‘I might at a pinch, but this is fast enough so long as they’re not following us.’

She lit the cigarettes and gave me one.

‘Let’s talk,’ I said. I didn’t want to scare her, but I wasn’t too sure how much time we had before they came after us. What do you know about Frances Bennett?’

‘What has happened to her? Where is she?’

I gave it to her without gloves.

‘She’s dead. She was fished out of a pond in Welden. Royce stayed with her at a hotel in Welden. She was working at a club there. The night she disappeared, Royce left the town.’

I saw Lydia clench her fists tightly in her lap.

‘So she’s dead. Well, I warned her, the little fool. She wouldn’t listen. I told her Royce was using her for his own convenience. He wouldn’t fall for a stupid little fool like her.’

‘Don’t cut the corners,’ I said. ‘Let me have it from the beginning. What was Royce to you?’

She hunched her shoulders and leaned forward to stare at the two pools of light thrown by the Lincoln’s headlamps as they raced ahead of us.

‘What was he to me? Everything. We were fixed to be married,’ she said in a cold, flat voice, and I didn’t believe her. ‘We were happy; he was crazy about me. Then suddenly it blew up in my face. He started to cool. He wasn’t subtle about it either. I thought at first it was the Van Blake woman. She was always coming to the club. You know the club belonged to her husband?’