James Chase - I Would Rather Stay Poor

He got to his feet, moved quickly out of the office and around to the back entrance. He was aware Alice had seen him leave his office, but this was too important to him to care if she saw him or not. He unlocked the door, pulled back the bolts as the telephone bell began to ring. He opened the door and there was Kit, standing in the shadows, peering at him.

‘Wait here,’ he said ‘Don’t go away…’

Then Alice said behind him, ‘Why, hello, Mrs. Loring. What are you doing here?’

‘Answer that damned phone!’ Calvin snarled at her, then as Alice, looking shocked, backed away, he said to Kit, ‘Come on in.’

Kit moved into the bank. She was very drunk. He could smell the whisky on her breath.

‘I thought she was dead,’ she said in a loud aggressive voice. ‘I thought she was bound to be dead by now.’

‘Shut up!’ Calvin said fiercely. ‘Keep your mouth shut! You’re drunk!’

Alice came to his office door.

‘It’s Mrs. Rason… you — you were cut off.’

Calvin hesitated. He wanted to scream at Alice to tell the old bitch to go to hell, but he knew he must control himself. Later, when the police began their investigation, it was possible Mrs. Rason might be questioned.

‘Watch it,’ he said to Kit in a low voice, then he went into the office and picked up the telephone receiver. Through the open doorway, he could see Alice was staring at Kit. He heard her say, ‘What’s the matter, Mrs. Loring? Aren’t you feeling well?’ Then Mrs. Rason’s high-pitched voice blotted out any other sound.

When he could interrupt her, Calvin said, ‘I think it would be a sound idea for you to take up a thousand shares. Would you like me to do that for you?’

‘I guess I’ll talk to my husband first. I’ll call you back.’

‘I’m just leaving,’ Calvin lied. ‘Could you call me first thing tomorrow morning?’

‘Well, I suppose I could,’ she said and then held him for another minute or so in an inane conversation before she hung up.

He got swiftly to his feet and came out of the office. He paused. Alice was staring at Kit who was saying in a loud, slurred voice, ‘So he intends to murder you. You believe in God, don’t you? At least, you go to church. Well, this is the time to pray.’

Alice looked from Kit to Calvin. Calvin’s expression as he moved towards her brought a look of horror to her face. In sudden panic, she spun around and ran towards the entrance to the vault. Calvin was startled by her swift move. He went after her. As he passed Kit, she grabbed hold of his arm, jerking him to a standstill.

‘Don’t do it! Don’t do it!’ she moaned.

He shoved her away so violently that she fell on her hands and knees.

He darted down the steps to the vault.

Alice was crouching against the door of the vault. At the sight of him, she lifted her hands in a feeble attempt to ward him off.

‘No… don’t touch me… don’t touch me!’

As he moved towards her, she began to scream. She was still screaming as his thick fingers closed around her throat.

Ken Travers sat at the sheriff’s desk trying to concentrate on a paperback that had a naked woman lying in a pool of blood on its jacket.

From where he sat, he could see the lighted windows of the bank. He looked impatiently at the clock on the wall. The time was five minutes after seven. The sheriff had said Alice Craig and Calvin would be through by then, then he could go to the restaurant across the way and have his supper.

He tossed the paperback aside and lit a cigarette. The previous afternoon he had seen Iris and had had a long talk with her. What she had told him worried him. He was startled to learn that Kit intended to marry Calvin, but the news went into the background when Iris went on to tell him that her mother was again drinking.

Iris now had no doubt about this. She had talked with Dr. Sterling but he hadn’t been very helpful. He was getting old, and although he had promised to talk to Kit, he didn’t hold out much hope.

‘These cases are difficult,’ he said. ‘If she really wants to drink again, there’s not much I can do about it. I don’t think I can persuade her to take a second cure. A second cure is never much good. It’s the first one that counts.’

Iris had said the old man had brightened when she had told him Kit was getting married again. ‘Then that could be the best solution.’

If Calvin married Kit and took her to Florida, Travers thought, then his troubles would be over. Once Kit and Calvin left Pittsville, he and Iris could get married. Sheriff Thomson had already hinted he was thinking of retiring. Once he did, Travers would automatically step into his shoes.

Travers shook his head unhappily. It wasn’t really much of a job. If only he had the chance of earning big money so he and Iris could get out of Pittsville and start a new life in some progressive town that offered scope. But without capital, he wouldn’t dare take the risk.

He was still brooding over his financial future when he saw the lights in the bank go out and he looked at the wall clock. The time was six minutes after seven. He got to his feet and moved to the window to look across at the bank. He saw who he thought was Alice Craig come out and walk down the path towards where Calvin’s car was parked.

Now there was a poor thing if ever there was one, Travers thought. Not that she wasn’t always polite to him, but a girl who turned fiery red whenever a man looked at her bored Travers. And her clothes! He watched her move under a street light. That coat! How any girl could spend good money on a thing like that… let alone wear it!

Suddenly he stiffened and frowned. Was he imagining things? he wondered. As the girl crossed the street to Calvin’s car, had he imagined she had lurched? He watched closely, pressing his forehead against the window pane. There… she did it again: almost as if she were drunk, Travers thought, puzzled, but the idea of Alice Craig being drunk was so ridiculous he immediately began to wonder if she were ill.

He watched her reach the car. She seemed to be having trouble opening the car door. He looked across at the bank and saw Calvin locking up.

Maybe she was ill, Travers thought and hesitated, wondering if he should go out and ask, but then remembering how hopelessly embarrassed she always became when he spoke to her, he decided to let Calvin deal with her.

Calvin crossed the road with long swift strides. He got into the car and started the engine. He was aware that Travers was at the window, watching him. His heart was thumping. This he knew was the most important part of his plan and the most dangerous. He wondered if Travers had seen Kit lurch as she had crossed the road. He himself had seen her lurch: would Travers think anything of it?

Kit sat huddled up in the corner of the car, crying softly and hysterically. Calvin could have strangled her. He had had to shake and slap her before he could force her into Alice’s hat and coat. He hadn’t thought, as he pushed her out into the dark street, that she would be able to reach the car, but he had had to take that risk.

Now as he headed back to the rooming-house, he began to relax for a moment. As he drove past the sheriff’s office, he waved towards Travers and he saw Travers wave back. Then being careful not to drive too fast, he continued up the main street.

Nothing was said until they were in sight of the rooming-house, then Calvin slowed down and pulled to the grass verge and stopped the car.

‘Listen to me,’ he snarled. ‘You’ve got to pull yourself together, you drunken bitch! Do you hear me! We’re not through yet. When we get in, go straight upstairs and stop at the top. I’ll tell you to go to bed and you’ll say just one word: ‘Yes’. If either Miss Pearson or the major is in the hall, go past them, keeping your head turned away. Understand?’