James Chase - I Would Rather Stay Poor

‘Yeah… how long has this been going on? How long has she been up there?’

‘About half an hour. Can you get down here right away, Mr. Calvin?’

‘I’m coming,’ Calvin said and slammed down the receiver. He walked quickly out of his office.

There was a man waiting at the counter: a fat, peevish-looking character who drummed on the counter with well-manicured finger nails,

‘How much longer do I have to wait?’ he demanded, ‘I want to cash a cheque.’

‘The bank’s shut!’ Calvin said violently. ‘Clear out!’

The man gaped at him. His fat face fell to pieces at the sight of Calvin’s expression.

‘Go on… get out!’ Calvin snarled.

The man backed away, turned and hurried out of the bank. Calvin shut the doors and locked them. Then he ran out the back way where his car was parked.

He was thinking: this is it! You were crazy to have hooked up with an alcoholic. Unless I do something, she’ll kill herself, and then I’m finished. I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight! Well, I asked for it and now I’ve got it!

He climbed into his car and drove the half-mile fast. As he swung into Eisenhower Avenue, he saw the crowd and his heart kicked against his side.

A policeman waved him to a halt.

‘I’ve got to get through,’ Calvin said, leaning out of the car window. ‘Sheriff Thomson wants me to talk to the woman. She’s my fiancée. Get me through, will you?’

The policeman stared at him, recognised him and then nodded.

‘Okay, sir. You keep going slowly. They’ll let you through.’

He stood back and blew his whistle, motioning to another policeman some way ahead.

As Calvin edged his way through the crowd, he saw firemen standing by an escape and looking up. He saw men, women and children, with horror on their faces, also looking up. He controlled the impulse to stop the car and look up himself. He edged the car to the second policeman who shoved his way through the crowd towards him, his red face aggressive. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? Where do you think you’re going?’ he demanded.

‘She’s my fiancée,’ Calvin said in a hard, curt voice. ‘They think I can talk her down.’

The cop’s aggression went away.

‘Leave the car,’ he said. ‘You won’t get through this lot in a car. Sheriff Thomson is waiting for you.’

Calvin got out of the car. At the back of his mind, he remembered there was three hundred thousand dollars locked in the car’s boot. Out of the car, he looked up, following the gaze of some hundreds of people.

There was a new wing being added to Bentley’s store. The new wing consisted only of scaffolding and steel piping. Out on this skeleton foundation, some two hundred feet above the street was Kit. She was wedged in between the apex of a triangle formed by some of the steel poles. Her feet, one in front of the other, rested on one slim pole. A false move would send her down a long drop to death.

Calvin became rooted as he stared up at the distant figure. Kit was wearing slacks and a leather windcheater. She was smoking and seemed completely indifferent to the people staring up at her.

‘There you are,’ a voice said and a hand gripped Calvin’s arm. With an effort he dragged his eyes from the perilously perched figure and stared blankly at Sheriff Thomson. ‘She’s in a bad way,’ the sheriff went on. ‘We’ve been up there, but when we get within fifty feet of her, she threatens to jump. Think you can do anything?’

Aware now everyone was staring at him, Calvin said, ‘I don’t know. I’ll try. She’s drunk, of course.’

The sheriff pulled at his moustache.

‘How she managed to get out there without falling beats me. Working from where she is, the boys get taken up in a crane bucket. She just walked out there as if it was the sidewalk.’

‘Can you get me up in the bucket?’ Calvin asked.

‘Sure. Maybe if she sees you, she’ll let you get her in, but watch it — she’s jumpy.’

They forced their way through the crowd until they reached the crane bucket. They paused by the bucket to look up. Kit flicked her cigarette butt into the air. They watched the tiny white end come spiralling down to the ground. It seemed to take a long time before the crowd parted slightly to let it fall on the sidewalk. A souvenir hunter pounced on it.

‘You okay for heights?’ the sheriff asked looking at Calvin’s white face. ‘Better not go up there if you’re not. It’s a long way up.’

Calvin climbed into the bucket, ‘I’m all right,’ he said. ‘Just get me up there.’

‘Don’t look down and don’t lean your weight on the sides… it could tip. Good luck,’ and the sheriff signalled to the crane driver who was perched even higher than Kit in his small, glassed cabin.

As the bucket moved slowly upwards, the crowd gave a great sigh of excitement. They looked from Calvin, standing in the bucket and then to Kit who was watching him as he was lifted towards her.

The crane driver took him up gradually. Finally, Calvin swung exactly opposite Kit. They were within twenty feet of each other.

Because of the steel scaffolding, it wasn’t possible for the crane driver to get Calvin closer. Calvin, gripping the edge of the iron bucket, was sickeningly aware of the awful drop below.

‘Hello,’ Kit said. ‘I’ve been waiting for you. I knew you would come.’

‘Well, here I am,’ Calvin said, forcing his voice into steadiness. ‘What the hell’s got into you? Can you get over here? I’ll see you down.’

Kit laughed.

‘Come and fetch me. You’ve only to get out of that ridiculous thing and walk along that rod and then duck under this one and you’re with me. Come on: you and I could take the quick way down.’

Calvin wiped his face with the back of his hand.

‘What’s got into you? What’s the idea — puling a stunt like this?’ He scarcely knew what he was saying. ‘It’s not going to get you anywhere. Come on. Cut this out! I’ll help you if you’ll come.’

‘When I’m ready,’ Kit said, ‘I’m jumping, but I’m not ready yet. You’ve made me suffer, now I’m going to make you suffer. I’m staying here until I’m good and ready, then it’s going to be the quick way down. When I hit the ground, you’ll have about twelve hours — not more — of freedom. It’ll take my attorney about that long to remember the letter I left with him. When he opens it, you’ll be on the run. That’ll be the moment, when you begin feeling as I’ve felt these past weeks.’

Calvin stared at the white, drawn face.

‘I have the money,’ he said. ‘Three hundred thousand dollars. It’s in the boot of my car. We can still get away with this, Kit. Easton has promised to be our best man. He’ll get us out of Pittsville. Tell you what I’ll do: I’ll give you three quarters of the money if you’ll chuck this and come down. How’s that?’

Kit opened her bag and took out a pack of cigarettes. With a nonchalant disregard of her position, she lit a cigarette and then flicked the spent match down to the staring crowd.

‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’ Calvin said, raising his voice. ‘Think… by the end of the month, we’ll be out of this — you and I, with money to spend. Come on: what’s the sense of getting so far and then doing a thing like this?’

She blew a long wisp of smoke at him.

‘I’ve told you… but you don’t seem to understand. I have to live with myself, and I find I can’t do it. I didn’t think it would be like this.’ Her pale lips parted in a cynical smile. ‘I have Alice on my mind: day and night. I see the poor thing in my dreams. I can’t get her out of my mind. So… I’m taking the way out that you’ll have to take before long.’