James Chase - I Would Rather Stay Poor

‘Just a moment,’ Marthy said sharply. ‘Explain that. I don’t understand. How could they have got hold of Calvin’s key?’

‘When Lamb had his stroke, Miss Craig had the two keys for some hours. That’s when we think she took an impression of Calvin’s key she later gave to Acres.’

‘But Lamb had his stroke more than six weeks ago,’ Marthy painted out. ‘Do you mean Acres was hanging around here for six weeks?’

Calvin sat very still, his face expressionless. Easton shifted uneasily.

‘I guess so… he must have done,’ he said finally. ‘I’m not saying he was hanging around here, but he was in touch with Alice… how else could he have got at the second key? Calvin tells me once he had possession of the key, it was never out of his sight.’

‘That’s not exactly correct,’ Calvin said a little too quickly. ‘I guess Alice could have got at it pretty well any time after Lamb’s death. Naturally, I trusted her. I kept my key in my pocket. In hot weather, I left my jacket in the office when I worked in the vault. I guess she could have sneaked into my office and taken an impression of the key.’

Marthy turned and looked hard at Calvin.

‘But if you were working in the vault, you would surely need the key to open the vault, wouldn’t you?’

Calvin rubbed the side of his jaw, his brain racing. Somehow he managed to keep his face expressionless.

What are you saying, you fool? he thought. Watch it! Another slip like that and you’ll be in trouble.

‘When the payroll isn’t in the vault, sir,’ he said, ‘we leave the vault door unlocked.’

There was a pause, then Marthy said, ‘Well, go on,’ this to Easton.

Calvin reached for his pack of cigarettes. He lit a cigarette and drew down a lungful of smoke.

‘Acres had arranged to meet Alice after he had the money,’ Easton went on. ‘She imagined they were going away together, but Acres had other ideas. As soon as he had established the fact they were going to ’Frisco by talking to the gas attendant, he drove her to some lonely spot and strangled her. He dumped her in the boot of the car, ditched the car at the railroad station and then disappeared with the payroll. It now seems pretty certain he is still in the district.’

Calvin leaned back in his chair. His bulk made the chair creak.

Marthy asked in his dry precise voice, ‘What makes you think that?’

Easton felt a slight stabbing pain in his stomach. He winced, shifting in his chair.

‘We’re slowly building up evidence that Acres is a local man. We’ve had some luck. There’s an asylum for the criminal insane at Downside. On the night of the robbery one of the inmates escaped in a stolen car. He got away around the time Acres was driving to Downside after the robbery. The police were alerted and all roads out of Pittsville and Downside were immediately blocked. We know no one left Downside without being checked. The road blocks were so efficient, the nut was captured within half an hour. It so happened that at that time few cars were on the roads and those people checked were known to the police: they were local people. There were no strangers. We are pretty sure Acres didn’t get through so he must either be holed up in Downside or in Pittsville.’

Calvin’s mouth turned dry. He stared at the glowing end of his cigarette, aware his heart was now thumping so violently he was scared that Travers, sitting close to him, would hear it.

‘What makes you think he is a local man?’ Marthy asked.

It was Travers who said, ‘We think he could be a local man for a number of reasons. The main reason is that Downside and Pittsville are small towns and strangers get noticed. We have been hammering away on the radio and TV all day and half the night giving out with Acre’s description. No one has come forward to say they’ve been sheltering him or even have seen him with the exception of the man who sold him the car and the gas attendant. None of the hotels nor the rooming-houses have had strangers with them. The people at the hotels have all been regulars. We think the black sideboards and the moustache were a disguise. All Acres had to do was to put them on and he became Acres as seen by Mrs. Loring, Major Hardy and Miss Pearson, then take them off to become X, a citizen either of Downside or Pittsville. We know the letter he wrote to Alice was written on a standard Remington typewriter. This means he couldn’t have carried the machine around with him. He either borrowed the machine which we think is unlikely or owns the machine which is more likely. The final point is he bought a car in Downside. If he had been an outsider, why should he risk buying a car locally?’

Calvin looked down at his hands. The fine sandy hairs were glistening with sweat in the hard lamplight. He had used the typewriter at the bank to write that letter. He remembered as he had entered the room, Travers asking if the typewriter had any special characteristics. He remembered Travers saying something about the letters r and v.

‘Right now,’ Travers was saying, ‘we are checking where every Remington in Pittsville and Downside is located. We have lists from the local dealers. Then we’ll have to check every machine. This is going to take time, but when we find the machine, we’ll be pretty close to Mr. Acres.’

‘So you think this man is still here and the money also?’ Marthy asked.

‘That’s what we think,’ Sheriff Thomson said. ‘We’ve got him in a trap and we’re taking good care he doesn’t get out of it. The road blocks are going to remain in position and every car will be checked. We have men at the railroad station who’ll check every piece of luggage as it leaves. We have men at the mail-sorting office who will check every parcel leaving. It’s a big job, but it’s being done. As I see it there is no way for him to get the money out. Sooner or later, we’ll catch up with him, but it’s going to take time.’

‘I have a pretty good incentive for you all to work on this job,’ Marthy said ‘My directors have decided to offer a reward for this man’s arrest. This is the usual bank procedure, but since one of our own staff is involved, we are offering a much higher reward. Anyone, and that includes members of the police, who gives information that will lead to the arrest and conviction of this man will receive the bank reward of sixty thousand dollars. I would be glad if you would arrange to circulate this information as widely as possible.’

Travers stiffened. He drew in a long, deep breath. He was aware of Easton’s reaction. Easton was staring at Marthy as if he couldn’t believe his ears. Both men were thinking: sixty thousand dollars! Both men were thinking what they could do with the money. Easton was thinking he could afford to get a divorce and marry Mavis Hart. He could retire and buy a little cottage somewhere. Mavis would look after him in his old age.

Travers was thinking, here at last was the chance he had often dreamed about of laying his bands on a large slice of money to provide Iris with a decent home, to get out of Pittsville and buy a partnership in that mink farm Max was always writing to him about.

As Travers sat there, his mind alive with the prospects of winning such a reward, he suddenly became aware that Calvin, sitting close to him, was humming tunelessly under his breath.

Ten minutes after the last performance, Iris left the darkened movie house and started the short walk to the bus stop. It was now raining heavily and she walked with her head bent against the driving rain.

A familiar voice called, ‘Hey! Iris!’

She looked up and saw Ken Travers leaning out of his car window, waving to her. As she ran towards him, he opened the off-side door.

‘Why, Ken,’ she said as she scrambled in, ‘what are you doing here? What a surprise!’