Джеймс Чейз - The Flesh of the Orchid

‘I’ll give you a couple of hours to think it over,’ Eddie said, a little startled. ‘But I’ll take this dough while I’m at it. It doesn’t belong to you.’

As he bent to pick up the money Carol snatched up the poker and struck at his head with all her strength.

Eddie had just time to drop flat. The poker missed his head but caught his shoulder, and the pain stunned him for a second or so.

But as Carol jumped to her feet he rolled clear and, cursing, swung his legs round, catching her a bang below her knees, bringing her down on top of him. He grabbed her arms, rolled her over on her back and pinned her to the floor.

‘Now, you hell-cat,’ he said viciously, ‘I’ll teach you to start something like this,’ and releasing one of her arms he slapped her heavily across her face.

It was a mistake to release her arm, for she struck back like lightning. Instinct rather than sight warned Eddie and he jerked back his head in time to save his eyes. Her finger-nails ploughed four deep scratches down his jaw, drawing blood. Before he could recover from the first shock of pain she was up and had darted to the door. He snatched at the skirt of her black silk dress, brought her up with a jerk, then the dress ripped and he lost his hold.

She reached the door, set her back against it, her hands behind her. As he got slowly to his feet he heard the key turn in the lock.

‘That won’t get you anywhere,’ he said, breathing heavily. Blood from the scratches dripped on to his white shirt-front. ‘Unlock that door or I’ll give you the hiding of your life.’

Carol removed the key, bent and slipped it under the door.

‘Now neither of us can get away,’ she said softly.

‘I’ll make you pay for this,’ Eddie said, not liking the cold, vicious expression on her face nor the burning light in her eyes. ‘I’m three times as strong as you and I’ll skin you if you start anything funny.’

She gave a soft metallic laugh which set his nerves tingling.

‘You’re afraid of me,’ she said, sidled across the room towards him.

‘Stay where you are,’ Eddie said sharply, and he remembered with a little chill what the newspapers had said about her. Homicidal... wildcat... dangerous.

But she came on, her hands hanging loosely at her sides, her eyes burning.

‘So you’re going to have me locked up,’ she jeered at him. ‘I don’t think so. I don’t like being locked up.’

Eddie backed away until he came up against the wall. She struck before he was properly set and her finger-nails, missing his eyes by a hair’s-breadth, slashed his cheek. Furious with pain, Eddie grabbed her, and for a minute or so they fought like animals. It was all Eddie could do to keep the flying finger-nails out of his eyes. Each time he grabbed at her wrists she evaded him, and although she did not reach his eyes, she scratched and tore at his face until it was a mask of blood.

Eddie hit her in the body, but she clung on to him. He got hold of her arms, twisted them behind her, turned her and threw her down on the bed. Her dress was ripped into shreds and he couldn’t hold her, his hands sliding off her smooth, slippery young body. She managed to turn and bite at his wrists, and as he lost his hold her knees came up and she kicked him away.

He jumped her before she could get off the bed, and by sheer weight flattened her.

‘I’ll teach you, you wildcat!’ he panted, and raised his fist to club her, but her hands flew up to his throat and he only just caught her wrists in time. They lay like that, their faces close, each struggling to exert sufficient strength to overpower the other.

She was stronger than he thought possible, and he could feel her cold fingers creeping up his neck towards his eyes again.

Panic now seized him and, releasing her, he sprang away, rushed to the door, turned as he heard her savage little cry. She came at him, her eyes blazing and her white face working. He grabbed up a chair and smashed it down across her shoulders so that the chair splintered in his hands.

She pitched forward, and as she was falling he hit her with all his strength on the back of her head. The chair-back snapped, I and he stood staring down at her limp body, a piece of the chair firmly clenched in his hand, blood running down his face, horror I in his eyes.

‘I’ve killed her!’ he thought and turned cold.

For almost a minute he stood staring down at her as she lay before him; practically naked above the waist; her face waxen, her black dress in shreds, one stocking down to her ankle. Her arms and neck were smeared with his blood. The sight of her turned him sick.

‘If the cops find her here,’ he thought wildly, ‘they’ll crucify me! They won’t believe I hit her in self-defence.’

Then he thought of Gus. Gus would have to get him out of this mess. If there was anyone who could do it — Gus was the guy.

He blundered to the telephone, and when Gus answered he gasped, ‘Come up here, quick!’ Then he flopped on to the bed and kept his eyes averted from the still figure on the floor.

After a while the rattle of a key in the lock aroused him, and he got unsteadily to his feet as Gus came in.

Gus stopped short, caught his breath sharply.

‘For God’s sake!’ he exclaimed, his eyes hardening. Then he came into the room, closed the door. ‘Is she dead?’

‘I don’t know,’ Eddie quavered. He looked ghastly with blood still trickling down his face and soaking into his collar and coat. ‘Look what she did to me. She’s crazy! She came at me like a wild animal. If I hadn’t hit her...’

But Gus wasn’t listening. The dollar bills scattered all over the room held his attention. He shot a quick, hard glance at Eddie, then knelt beside Carol, felt her pulse, lifted her head, grimaced as he got blood on his fingers. He lowered her head very gently to the floor, wiped his fingers on her torn dress and stood up with a little grunt.

‘Is she...?’ Eddie began, gulped, waited.

‘You’ve smashed her skull,’ Gus said brutally. ‘Why did you have to hit her so hard, you crazy bastard?’

‘Is she dead?’ Eddie jerked out, his knees buckling. He had to sit on the bed.

‘She won’t last long,’ Gus said grimly. ‘The back of her head’s caved in.’

Eddie shuddered.

‘She’d’ve killed me, Gus,’ he moaned. ‘I had to do it. I swear she’d have killed me... look what she did to me.’

‘Tell it to the cops,’ Gus said. ‘If you can’t cook up a better yarn than that they’ll fling you into the gas chamber so fast you’ll be dizzy in the head till the pellets drop.’

‘Don’t...’ Eddie cried, starting to his feet. ‘I tell you—’

‘Save it,’ Gus returned. ‘You don’t have to tell me a thing. I’m thinking of the hotel, not you. The cops would slam us shut if they heard about this. Can’t you stop that bleeding?’ he went on irritably. ‘You’re ruining the carpet.’

Eddie went into the bathroom, came back holding a towel to his face.

‘We’ve got to get her out of here before she croaks,’ he said desperately. ‘No one knows she’s in town. For the love of Mike, Gus, get her out of here and dump her somewhere.’

‘Me?’ Gus exclaimed. ‘And get an accessary rap tied to my tail? That’s a laugh. I ain’t as dumb as that.’

Eddie clutched his arm.

‘You can fix it, Gus. I’ll make it worth your while. Look, take that dough. There’s more than twenty grand there.’

Gus gave an exaggerated start and appeared to see for the first time the money that was scattered over the floor.

‘You two been robbing a bank?’ he asked.

‘It’s mine,’ Eddie said hysterically. ‘Get her out of here and you can have the lot. Come on, Gus, you know you can fix it.’