James Chase - I Would Rather Stay Poor

‘I’d rather that than expose her to your beastliness,’ Kit said, glaring at him. ‘She’s not working for you! That’s final! Now get out!’

Calvin studied her, his face suddenly expressionless. Then with a slight shrug of his powerful shoulders, he got to his feet and returned to his room. He heard the lock of the door snap after him.

He sat down and for some twenty minutes he remained motionless, humming under his breath. Then suddenly he got to his feet, listened intently for some moments, then hearing nothing, he stepped silently into the passage and moved across to the bathroom. He went in and closed the door. He examined the small, flimsy bolt on the door… There was no lock. He fingered the bolt, then taking a penknife from his pocket, he squatted down and loosened the four small screws. He then slid the bolt home and gently tried to open the door. The bolt held, but only just. He knew a quick hard jerk would wrench the bolt off the door.

Satisfied, he returned to his room. Shutting himself in, he went to the closet and took from it a box of golf balls. Four of these he dropped into an odd sock he took from a drawer. He swung the sock. It made an extremely vicious and efficient cosh.

He sat down to wait. The time was now half past nine. In another hour, Kit would take a bath.

He considered his plan for ridding himself of her. It was safe and simple. She had been drinking. When he heard her in the bath he would wrench off the bolt on the bathroom door, enter, slam her over the head with the improvised cosh, then hold her under the water until she was dead. He would leave her body in the bath for Flo to find. The fact the bolt was so flimsy, it would be assumed that Flo had wrenched it off when opening the door.

It was safe and simple, but he decided he had better have an alibi in case something went wrong. Leaving the cosh on the bed, he went downstairs. The television set was on, and from the sound of the gunfire, Calvin guessed the old couple were enjoying yet another gangster movie. He went to the door of the darkened room.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ he said. ‘I’ll be in the garage. I have car trouble. If there is a telephone call for me, could I bother you to let me know?’

Major Hardy dragged his attention from the lighted screen.

‘Certainly, my dear chap,’ he said. ‘Is there any news yet of Alice?’

‘Nothing. I’ll let you know as soon as there is,’ and Calvin backed out of the room.

He went to the garage, rolled up his sleeves and quickly removed the sparking plugs from the engine. As he worked, he hummed tunelessly under his breath, his fleshy face set. He scraped a little carbon from the plugs, then leaving them on the work bench, he silently returned to the house. He crept up the stairs and entered his room. The time was now close on half past ten. The gangster movie with all its noise and violence would run to eleven. Even if Kit had time to scream, the old couple wouldn’t hear her. Calvin sat down, holding the cosh in his hand and waited.

Minutes dragged by. At half past ten, he suddenly wondered if Kit were too drunk to take a bath. She might have fallen asleep. He got to his feet and moved to the communicating door. Putting his ear against the panel of the door, he listened. He heard nothing. He was tempted to see if the door was still locked, but he was afraid of alerting her.

He went back to his chair and sat down. There were other nights, he told himself, but as each day went by, the danger increased.

He lit a cigarette. Faintly, he could hear the television set downstairs. He looked at his watch. Then he heard a sound from the other room that brought him to his feet, tense and listening. A minute or so passed. He could now hear Kit moving around her room. Then he heard her door open and he heard her walk across the passage and into the bathroom. He heard the bathroom door close.

A vicious little grin lit up his face and he opened his door to peer into the passage. The thick fingers of his right hand gripped the cosh. Above the sound from the television, he could hear the bath water running. He stood waiting. After what seemed an eternity, the water ceased to run. He moved into the passage. With cat-like silence, he reached the bathroom door and paused to listen again. He heard the sound of water as if Kit had stepped into the bath. He was breathing lightly and rapidly and he was aware that his heart was beating unsteadily. His lips came off his teeth in a vicious grin as he turned the door handle. When it was as far back as it would go and as yet another burst of gunfire came from the television set, he gave the door a sudden shove forward. He heard the bolt drop onto the tiled floor as the door jerked open. He moved quickly into the bathroom.

He paused, his right hand, holding the cosh, half swinging up, his heart suddenly skipping a beat.

Kit stood with her back against the far wall, some twelve feet from Calvin. She held a loofa in her left hand which dripped water. Calvin guessed at once that she had been using the loofa to disturb the bath water, leading him to believe she was in the bath.

In her right hand, she held a .38 automatic, its blunt nose pointing directly at Calvin. She was still wearing her polka-dot nylon wrap and there was a fixed little smile on her white face that sent a sudden chill up Calvin’s spine. He had an instinctive feeling that she was about to shoot him.

‘Don’t be a fool!’ he rapped out. ‘You’ll never touch the money if you shoot!’

They were the right words. The awful little smile slipped from her mouth and her brown, glittering eyes suddenly lost their mad blank stare.

For a long tense moment, they stared at each other. The gun remained pointing at him, but he knew the danger for the moment was over.

Then she said, ‘Yes… I was forgetting. You clever devil! You just saved your beastly life by saying the right thing at absolutely the right moment. You follow a pattern, don’t you? You use women and then you get rid of them, but you’re not getting rid of me!’

Calvin was eyeing the gun in her hand. The sight of the gun shocked him. His great strength against her feeble strength was useless in the face of the gun. He measured the distance between them. He might just possibly reach her and smash the gun out of her hand, but he was sure he couldn’t prevent her firing the gun before he did reach her. Even above the racket the television was making, the old couple would hear the shot.

‘It was a mistake,’ he said, keeping the snarl out of his voice with an effort. ‘You scare me, Kit, with your drinking. I acted on impulse.’

‘Don’t act on another impulse,’ she said, staring fixedly at him. ‘I’ll kill you if I have to, so don’t do anything stupid.’

‘I’m not going to do anything. It’s all right.’

‘Didn’t you think I knew what you were planning?’ she went on. ‘Couldn’t you see how obvious it was to me. I help you get the money, then I go the way Alice went and you have all the money, but that’s not how it’s going to work out, Dave. I knew sooner or later you would try to murder me. I set a trap for you and you walked into it. I didn’t drink your whisky. I poured it down the sink. I’m not such a drunk as you imagine. Then when I saw you had loosened the bolt on the door, I knew you would be in here to murder me. Well, you’re not murdering me. You’re not as smart as you think you are. And another thing, Iris isn’t working for you. You’re going to keep your filthy hands off her. Do you understand?’

Calvin switched on his charm.

‘Don’t let’s quarrel. Kit,’ he said. ‘I’ve already explained…’

‘You’re in for a surprise,’ Kit broke in. ‘Up to now you have handled this, but from now on, I’m handling it and you’ll do what I tell you.’