Джеймс Чейз - Have a Change of Scene

‘Two-double-one-five-double-eight,’ I intoned, moving the dial. ‘Six-double-nine. That’s it.’ I pulled at the knob. ‘Well, for God’s sake!’

‘Can’t you open it?’ Fel’s voice was a snarl. ‘You conning me?’

‘That’s the combination,’ I said. ‘Why the hell won’t it open?’

Then the telephone bell rang.

We both turned and looked at the telephone. Leaving Fel, I took two quick strides, lifted the receiver and said, ‘Hello... yes?’

‘Mr. Carr? This is Harry. I’ve two police officers here. Are you all right up there.’

‘No... you have a wrong number,’ I said and hung up.

I turned to see Fel lurch across the room and pick up his gun.

‘A wrong number?’ he said, squinting at me.

‘Yes.’

We stared at each other.

‘You aren’t trying to con me, you bastard?’

‘Oh, shut up!’ I crossed to the safe, my heart thumping. As I began to turn the dial yet again, the front door bell buzzed.

I turned around and looked at Fel who was motionless, staring through the open door of the living room into the lobby.

‘Open up!’ a tough voice snapped. ‘Police!’

Fel lifted his gun and pointed it at me.

‘You bastard!’

‘Quick! Out on to the terrace. I’ll stall them!’ I moved by him, my body cringing... would he shoot?

The bell buzzed again.

I was out on the terrace. Fel followed me.

‘You can get down... quick! Take my car. I’ll keep them talking.’

Shivering, his mouth working, Fel leaned far over the balustrade to look at the balcony below. I moved up behind him, then hooking my fingers into the cuffs of his trousers, I heaved up.

He gave a scream of terror and his gun went off, then he plunged down into space as I heard the front door burst open.

It had been so easy, I thought as I drove up the freeway, heading for Luceville... so absurdly easy.

Now I had made one big step forward: one mouth silenced. Now for Rhea.

Sergeant Hess had come to the penthouse and he had questioned me, but I knew by his manner and by the way he treated me he thought I was lucky to be alive.

I told him that when I had let myself into the apartment, I had realised that someone was in there but before I could get out Morgan had appeared, gun in hand. He had threatened to shoot me if I raised the alarm. I explained how he had started drinking and had become garrulous... how he had told me he had been living in the mangrove swamp and was starving. He had demanded food and I had got him a meal from the restaurant. After he had eaten, he had demanded money. This, I said, was my chance. I knew Sydney’s safe was wired to police headquarters. When the police arrived, Morgan had panicked. He had rushed out on to the terrace and had tried to climb to the lower balcony. I had tried to stop him. He had fired at me, then lost his hold and had fallen.

All this added up when Hess went over the penthouse. There were signs that Morgan had slept overnight and his filthy hand-prints were everywhere.

‘Well, we know now he and his sister are the two,’ Hess had said. ‘Now, we have to find her.’

But not before I do, I told myself. I went on to tell him how Rhea had ditched her brother and had made off with the necklace.

Here was my chance to confuse the hunt and I took it.

‘Morgan said they planned to drive to Key West and they had a friend there who could get them to Cuba. He was sure Rhea was heading for Key West when she ditched him.’

Hess grimaced.

‘Cuba! If she’s there... we’ve lost her.’

The newspapers gave Fel’s death a big play. I was sure Rhea would read about it, but she wouldn’t know that Fel had told me about Spooky Jinx. Maybe she wasn’t holed up in his pad, but it was worth a try. I had to silence her. I would have no future unless she was dead.

I waited until Fel’s inquest was over and then I told Hess I was going to Frisco for a change of scene.

He asked me to keep in touch with him. If they caught up with Rhea, I would be the principal witness, but from his expression, I got the impression he now hadn’t much hope of finding her.

Before leaving Paradise City for Luceville, I called Claude, Sydney’s manservant. I asked him if he would work for me, explaining I was moving into the penthouse.

‘I appreciate the offer, Mr. Larry,’ he said, ‘but I could never work for any other gentleman after working for Mr. Sydney. But if it would be helpful, I will try to find someone reliable for you.’

‘Don’t bother,’ I said, and hung up.

To be turned down by a fat, elderly queer soured me. I would have paid him as much as Sydney had paid him... who the hell did he think he was?

Then thinking about it, I saw his point. Why should he want to work for anyone now? Hadn’t Sydney taken care of him handsomely? But I knew this wasn’t the real reason. I knew Claude despised me for moving into Sydney’s home... as I was beginning to despise myself.

Three days after Fel’s inquest, I got in the Buick and headed for Luceville.

The previous day I had driven to Miami and had bought myself a hippy outfit: a flowered shirt, jeans and black sneakers. I had gone to one of the waterfront hock shops and had bought a .38 police special automatic with a box of slugs. I then went to a gimmick shop and bought a black, candy floss wig, a broad belt with a miniature skull for a buckle and a flick knife.

Back in my apartment, I made a solution of earth, oil and water, taking the earth from the flower boxes on my terrace, and thoroughly dirtied the shirt and jeans.

Twenty miles from Luceville, I stopped at a small town and garaged the Buick, then carrying a suitcase containing the hippy outfit I went along to a used car lot and bought a battered Chevy.

On a lonely stretch of beach, I changed into the hippy outfit, and put on the candy floss wig. I hadn’t shaved for three days and now, looking at myself in the driving mirror, I decided I could walk past even Jenny without her recognizing me.

I was now ready to go.

I sat behind the driving wheel and stared through the dusty windshield and took stock.

I had no feeling of remorse for Fel Morgan. I was sure he would have blackmailed me for the rest of my days. I had no qualms for what I was planning to do with Rhea if I found her... it was my life or hers.

But I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. She might not be holed up with Spooky, although I had a feeling she was, and even if she was, I had to trap her and then kill her.

Trapping and killing her would be as dangerous and as difficult as trapping and killing a wild cat.

But it had to be done.

I drove into Luceville as the City Hall clock struck six. Because of the smog and the cement dust I drove as other drivers were doing with dipped headlights. I felt the dust gritty around my collar and it gave me a feeling of nostalgia.

To reach Spooky’s pad on Lexington I had to cross the centre of the city and I got snarled up in the home-going traffic.

As I crawled past Jenny’s office block I wondered if she was up there on the sixth floor, her hair untidy as she scribbled on a yellow form. But this was no time to think of Jenny. The time to think of her, I told myself, was when I knew for certain I was safe. Until then, she must remain like something one urgently longs for but knows one can’t afford.

I dumped the Chevy in a parking lot within easy walking distance of Lexington, then taking my hold-all, containing a spare shirt, shaving kit and the .38 automatic, I walked through the slums until I came to Lexington.

It was dark now and the street lights were on. Apart from a few old drunks, sitting on trash bins, a few coloured kids kicking a ball around in the street, Lexington at this hour was deserted.