Джеймс Чейз - Have a Change of Scene

She was holding the gun by its barrel. Even as I stared at her reflection, she set herself and smashed the gun butt down on my head.

When consciousness returned to me, I wasn’t to know I had been in a coma for five days, had undergone brain surgery and twice had been given up as dead.

The first intimation of life I had as I seemed to swim upwards through murky water was the sound of a voice talking. I kept swimming higher and higher with no choking sensation, only a lazy, unwilling motion to reach the surface and I tuned into the voice speaking quite close to me and the words of the speaker penetrated.

He was saying, ‘Look, Doc, how long do you think I’ve got to stick around here, waiting for this guy to come to? I’m losing out, sitting here. I’m the top man on the force. For God’s sake, I’ve been sitting around here for five goddamn days!’

Force? The police?

Five days?

I lay motionless, now aware of a throbbing headache.

Another voice said, ‘He could come out of this coma a moment. He could stay this way for months.’

‘Months?’ The other man’s voice shot up. ‘Isn’t there anything you can do... like giving him a shot or something? If I go on sitting here for months I’ll go into a coma and then you’ll have two patients in your lap.’

‘I’m sorry we have to wait.’

‘That’s wonderful... so what do I do... practice Yoga?’

‘That might be an idea, Mr. Lepski. Yoga is often very beneficial.’

There was a pause, then the man called Lepski, said, ‘So you can’t get him out of this goddamn coma?’

‘No.’

‘And it could be months?’

‘Yes.’

‘Boy! Do I pick them! Okay, Doc, so I sit.’

‘It would seem so.’

Then the sound of footsteps crossing the room, a door opened and shut and the man called Lepski snorted, got to his feet and began to move around. His fidgeting became a background sound. I was able to consider what had been said. I wished my head didn’t ache so badly and wished I could think more clearly. With an effort of will, I forced my mind to look back into the past. I saw again that awful moment when Rhea had murdered Sydney. I saw her raise the gun, saw the flash, heard the bang again and saw poor, brave Sydney’s head explode in a mess of blood and brains.

I had been so stupid! Why had I misjudged his courage? I could see him charging at Fel, the Borgia dagger in his hand... something I knew I could never have done in the face of a threatening gun. It had been a mad, reckless, but magnificent thing to have done, but only someone who had guts and real courage could have done it. Sydney must have known as soon as they had burst into the room, that they were after the necklace, but he didn’t know the necklace he was trying to protect was of glass and he had given his life for nothing.

Well, he was dead. Now I was in the worst kind of trouble with a police officer sitting by my bedside waiting for me to talk. Did they suspect that I was involved in some way with the murder and the robbery? Surely that was unlikely? How was Maddox reacting, knowing that his company would have to pay out three-quarters of a million dollars? Knowing him, rather than pay out that enormous sum, he would dig and dig and dig until he came up with something that would hook me with the murder.

Well, I had time. If I remained still, gave no sign that I was now conscious, I might think of some way out... some way to save myself.

I heard the door open. A woman’s voice said, ‘Your lunch is ready, Mr. Lepski. I’ll watch him.’

‘Okay, baby. If he even lifts an eyelid call me. What’s for lunch?’

‘Beef stew.’

‘Sure it’s beef and not dog?’

She giggled.

‘The Matron’s cat has gone missing.’

‘That’s it! Boy! Do I get the breaks!’ Then the door closed.

I heard the nurse sit down, then the pages of a book began to turn. I went back to my thoughts.

Rhea and Fel had taken the glass necklace. Fel had been wounded. Had the sound of the shot alerted anyone in the building? Had anyone seen them leaving? Maybe the police had them already and Rhea had talked. Maybe that was why this police officer was guarding me. I was sure if Rhea was caught, she would implicate me. But how to find out? I was also sure by the brief glimpse I had had of her expression in the mirror that she had meant to kill me as she had killed Sydney. But if I survived... as I seemed to be surviving... and if she and Fel were caught, then she would talk.

I wanted to lift my hands and press them to my aching head but I resisted the urge. I wanted time. I had to appear to be still in a coma.

Supposing she and Fel got away? What would they do? They had stolen a necklace they imagined to be worth at least a million dollars. They knew one false move would be disastrous. Would they try to sell the necklace? I had already warned them that no small fence would touch it. Now, with a murder rap hanging over them, would they be so reckless as to approach any fence? Yet I could imagine Rhea with her inborn greed for money might not be able to resist the temptation of trying to turn the necklace into money.

But why think of them? If I was going to survive, I now had to think of myself.

Suppose the police or Maddox — especially Maddox — suspected I was behind the steal? Suppose they got a warrant and opened my safe? How would they react when they found the real necklace?

Then I saw a glimmer of hope... a solution and dear God! how I needed a solution!

I lay still, my aching mind busy and it finally seemed to me that I could save myself... always providing that the police never caught up with Rhea and Fel. If they didn’t, then I was safe. I could muzzle Maddox. I could return to the showroom. With Sydney dead, Tom Luce would offer me a partnership. Without my expertise the shop could even fail. I suddenly felt lighter, relaxed and hopeful.

It could work out, but always providing Rhea and Fel were never caught.

But how could they be? No one, even if they had been seen leaving the apartment block could identify them. So long as they didn’t do anything stupid like trying to sell the necklace, then surely they, as well as myself, were safe?

But Rhea?

I remembered what Jenny had said: She has this obsession about getting rich. She just won’t accept the fact that if one wants money one has to work for it... she says she won’t wait that long.

But Rhea was no one’s fool. She must realise in spite of the temptation to make quick money the moment she tried to sell the necklace she was sunk.

Then I heard a tap on the door and the nurse get up and cross the room.

‘Hello, Miss Baxter,’ she said.

‘How is he?’ Jenny asked.

‘Just the same.’

Jenny here!

It needed a great effort of will not to open my eyes. It was too soon for that. When I let them know I was conscious, I would have to do it slowly so that if this police officer turned tough I could retreat back into a faked coma. The knowledge that Jenny had come to Paradise City and was inquiring about me was like a shot in the arm to me.

‘Could I see him?’

‘Of course.’

I lay there, my heart pounding, as I heard movements by my bed.

‘He looks so bad.’ The distress in Jenny’s voice meant a lot to me.

‘That’s to be expected. He’s had brain surgery and it’s been touch and go, but Dr. Summers says he is now out of danger. We just have to wait for him to come out of the coma.’

Cool fingers touched my wrist. Jenny’s fingers. I longed to open my eyes to look at her, to see her untidy hair and the expression of anxiety in her kind eyes, but it was too soon. For my own safety, I had to wait.

Then the sound of the door opening and another voice — Lepski’s voice — broke in.