James Chase - I Would Rather Stay Poor

‘Perhaps thirty… thirty-five. It’s hard to say.’

‘You haven’t ever seen him in town?’

‘Oh, no.’

‘And the car?’

‘I didn’t notice the car.’ Kit glanced at Travers. His silent presence was making her uneasy. ‘I suppose Mr. Calvin told you about Alice’s bank examination? She pretended to be working in her room, but she would sneak out to meet this man. I knew because her coat and hat was often missing.’

Easton nodded.

‘Yeah, he told me. That shows, doesn’t it?’ He again glanced at Travers. ‘She must have fallen hard for this guy. Could I see her room?’

‘Of course.’ Kit led the way upstairs. On the second floor, she paused to open a door. She stood aside. Easton, followed by Travers entered a small, impersonal room.

As Easton looked around, Kit said, ‘I have to prepare lunch, if you’ll excuse me. If you want me again, I’ll be in the kitchen.’

When she had gone, Easton blew out his cheeks.

‘Now there’s a baby I’d like to drag into my bed,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘Some chick!’

‘Think so?’ Travers said, an edge to his voice. ‘She happens to be my future mother-in-law.’

Easton’s fat face turned red.

‘Is that right? Well… what do you know!’ He looked around the room. ‘Let’s see what’s here.’

If there was one thing Easton could do competently it was to search a room. While Travers kept out of his way, Easton searched with a professional thoroughness.

He studied the half-empty wardrobe and the half-empty drawers.

‘Looks as if she took most of her clothes with her,’ he said. ‘No suitcase around.’ He pushed the bed aside and glanced behind it. ‘Hello… what have we here?’ He fished up a crumpled ball of paper and smoothed it out. ‘Look at this!’

Travers peered over his shoulder. The two men stared at the letter that contained only a few lines, but they were lines that brought both men alert.

Dear Alice,

It’s all fixed for tomorrow night. I’ve got a car. I’ll pick you up at the bottom of the road at half past one sharp. You have nothing to worry about. The only thing you have to do is to leave the back door unlocked. Watch out for C. He mustn’t spot you.

Love,

Apart from the scrawled signature, the letter was typewritten.

‘Well, here it is!’ Easton said triumphantly. ‘I told you, didn’t I? This is enough to put them both away for fifteen years.’

Travers took the letter from him and stared at it. So she had done it! Alice of all people!

‘Yeah… looks like a clincher,’ he said slowly and handed the letter back. ‘It beats me. I would never have believed she would have done such a thing, but… well, I guess I’m convinced now.’

Easton grinned. He folded the letter carefully and put it in his wallet.

‘When you’ve had my experience, son,’ he said genially, ‘you’ll never be surprised at anything. Let’s go talk to the old people.’

Miss Pearson and Major Hardy were waiting to be interviewed. Easton found them both irritating and tiresome. Although they agreed that Alice’s mysterious boy-friend was a big man and heavily built, Miss Pearson couldn’t agree that he had a moustache and the major was sure the man’s overcoat was dark brown and not fawn. Also the major was indignant that Easton should even suspect Alice had anything to do with the robbery.

‘My dear fellow,’ the major said, ‘you’re wasting your time suspecting Miss Craig. She would never do such a thing. I’ve known her for years. She just wouldn’t do such a thing.’

‘Yeah?’ Easton said belligerently. ‘Then where is she? How about this letter?’ And he pushed the crumpled letter under the major’s nose.

‘This doesn’t mean anything,’ the major said after reading it. ‘It could have been planted.’

Easton turned red with exasperation.

‘Who planted it? Did you?’

At this moment, Kit came to the door to say Easton was wanted on the telephone. It was the sheriff calling.

‘Just had a report from the State Police,’ he told Easton. ‘The gas attendant at the Caltex filling station on the Downside highway is pretty sure he saw this guy and Miss Craig around half past one last night. Do you want to talk to him.’

‘You bet I do!’ Easton said, studying Kit’s legs as she stood with her back to him looking out of the window. ‘What makes him so sure he saw her?’

‘The girl was wearing a mustard-coloured coat with a green collar,’ the sheriff said. ‘He recognised the coat. He’s seen Miss Craig from time to time.’

‘Okay, I’ll get over there right away,’ Easton said and hung up.

He went back to the room where Travers was talking to the old people.

‘Let’s go,’ he said from the doorway. ‘Something’s turned up.’

The two men went out to Easton’s car. As Easton drove on to the highway, he told Travers what he had learned from the sheriff.

‘You know, Major Hardy could be right,’ Travers said. ‘That letter could have been planted. This guy Johnny could have kidnapped the girl. The more I think about it, the more unlikely I think it is she would have done this job willingly.’

‘Oh, for Pete’s sake!’ Easton said impatiently. ‘You just said you were convinced. She fell for the guy, and she didn’t have to do anything except unlock the back entrance to the bank. That’s all. He could have persuaded her.’

‘Maybe,’ Travers said and rubbed the side of his jaw. ‘But there are a couple of points that puzzle me. Where did this guy come from? If he was meeting Alice so often how is it no one but Mrs. Loring and the old people saw him? We’ve been asking around and no one has seen him. Where did he live? And another thing if he wasn’t living here, seems odd he had a typewriter with him.’

‘What’s so odd about that? Lots of people cart a portable around with them,’ Easton said. ‘You’re trying to complicate things.’

‘Why did he write that letter? Why couldn’t he have telephoned or seen her the day before the robbery? There’s something odd about that letter. It could be a plant.’

‘You’ve been reading detective stories,’ Easton growled. ‘You let me handle this.’

Travers shrugged and lapsed into silence. After a ten-minute drive they arrived at the Caltex filling station where a State Trooper was talking to Joe Hirsch, the gas attendant.

Hirsch, a young alert-looking man, said around one-thirty the previous night, a Lincoln had pulled in for gas. He couldn’t be absolutely sure of the time as his watch was on the blink, but it was near enough.

‘A man was driving and a woman in a mustard-coloured coat with a green collar was sitting in the passenger’s seat,’ he told Easton. ‘She had on a big floppy hat. I couldn’t see her face, but she wore spectacles. She took them off and wiped them with her handkerchief. The man was tall, heavily-built and he had black sideboards and a moustache. He wore a fawn, belted over-coat and a slouch hat. While I was filling the tank, he leaned into the car and got talking with the woman about the time of the last train to ’Frisco. She said they had missed it, but he said there was one at two a.m. and they could still make it. I happen to know he was right and joined in. I told him he could still make it if he hurried.’

Easton beamed on him.

‘Would you recognise this guy again if you saw him?’

Hirsch nodded.

‘Any time.’

‘And the girl?’

‘I’m pretty sure she was Miss Craig,’ Hirsch said. ‘I’ve seen her plenty of times in that coat’ He grinned. ‘It’s a coat you don’t forget in a hurry.’

‘How about the car?’

‘It was a 1959 Lincoln: a grey job with a red top.’