James Chase - I Would Rather Stay Poor

‘I can’t. I’ll come if you’ll help me. I’m so stiff I can scarcely move. If you’ll help me, I’ll marry you and go away with you. I can’t get down without your help.’

Calvin stared suspiciously at her.

‘This is a sudden change of mind, isn’t it? I thought you intended to jump.’

‘I’ve been up here long enough to change my mind. If you’ll reach out, I can catch hold of your hand.’

‘Oh no. You’re not touching me. I’d rather trust a snake than you. I’ll get the police up here. They’ll get you down. I’m not helping you.’

The sudden blaze of hatred that lit up her eyes shocked him. He realised his instinct for danger had saved him. She had intended taking him with her.

‘Come here, you devil!’ she screamed. ‘Let me get my hands on you!’

‘Go to hell!’ Calvin snarled and waved to the crane driver to lower the bucket.

Even as the bucket began to sink, Kit left the safe apex of the steel rods and sprang forward, her face ghastly with frustrated fury. In horror, Calvin saw her questing hands miss the rim of the bucket by inches. Had she caught the edge of the bucket, she would have tipped him out. She gave a long wailing scream and was gone.

Shuddering, Calvin shut his eyes. The roar of the crowd came up to him, then the sound of a sickening thud as Kit’s body hit the sidewalk. The bucket swung down quickly.

Easton was waiting as Calvin climbed unsteadily out of the bucket, his face ashen. The fat Federal agent caught hold of Calvin’s arm, steadying him.

Fifty yards or so away, the crowd surged forward, their backs to Calvin. Two men in white coats tried to force their way through the crowd.

‘Get me out of here!’ Calvin gasped. ‘I’m going to pass out! Get me out of here!’

‘Okay, boy,’ Easton said, his own face whitish-green. ‘You hang on to me.’

Together, they fought their way through the crowd. No one paid them any attention. The crowd was only interested in seeing Kit.

‘My car’s right here,’ Calvin said. ‘Will you drive? Take me to the rooming-house.’

‘Sure,’ Easton said. ‘I’m sorry. What made her do it? I can’t say how sorry I am…’

Calvin slumped in the passenger’s seat and hid his face in his hands. He had quickly shaken off the shock of seeing Kit fall, now he wanted time to think what the next move should be.

This is it, he said to himself. If the bitch has left a letter, I’ve only got a few hours before they’ll come after me. I’ve got to get moving. The money’s in the boot. Easton’s driving. It’s a perfect set-up, but will he do what I tell him?

He sat back with a groan.

‘She was drunk,’ he said, his hand sliding to his hip pocket. His fingers closed around the cold butt of the gun. ‘I guess it was too much for her… she promised to give up drinking. But why she did that…’

‘I didn’t know.’ Easton shook his head. ‘Yeah, when they get drinking… can do anything.’

Calvin eased the gun out of his hip pocket and laid it on the seat between Easton and himself, keeping his large hand on it, hiding it from Easton. He stared thoughtfully at Easton’s profile: the fat weak chin, the indecisive mouth. He decided he could take a chance.

‘Look, I’ve changed my mind,’ he said, ‘I want to get out of Pittsville. Drive me to Merlin Bay, will you? I feel I could do with the sight of the sea.’

Easton slowed to stare at Calvin.

‘Why, that’s the best part of a hundred and fifty miles, boy,’ he said. ‘I can’t take you there. I’ve got work to do. Look, I’ll take you…’

‘You’ll take me to Merlin Bay,’ Calvin said, a grating note in his voice. ‘Unless you want a slug of lead in your fat belly.’

He lifted the gun and dug it into Easton’s side. The car swerved and recovered. Easton started to pull up, but the gun dug deeper into his side.

‘Keep going… hear me?’ Calvin said. The tone of his voice sent a chill through Easton. He hurriedly increased the speed of the car. They were on the highway now. The time was just after five o’clock: too early for the rush hour home. Only one or two cars passed them.

‘Have you gone crazy?’ Easton gasped. ‘For Pete’s sake! What do you think you’re doing?’ He had already taken a quick look and satisfied himself Calvin was holding a gun.

‘Relax and do what I tell you,’ Calvin said. ‘Hasn’t it got through your thick skull that I grabbed the payroll and killed Alice Craig?’

‘Why… why…’ Easton was so shocked he lost his voice.

‘Kit Loring was in it too,’ Calvin went on. ‘That’s why she jumped, the stupid bitch. She’s left a confession with her attorney and that’s why I’ve got to skip. Make no mistake about this, Easton, you make a wrong move and you’ll get it… what have I to lose?’

Easton said in a quavering voice, ‘You won’t get far. You’d much better give up. There’s a road block a mile ahead. Give me the gun and I’ll try to get the rap…’

‘Shut up!’ Calvin snarled. ‘You’re getting me through that road block! I have the payroll in the car boot and I’m going to get it through the road block if I have to kill you. You’re going to use your rank as a Federal agent to get me through. If you don’t, you’ll be the first to get it!’ Calvin dug the gun into Easton’s fat side. ‘Step on it. I’m not warning you again. If you can’t stop them searching this car, you’ll get lead in your fat gut. It’ll take you days to die. Hear me? Days!’

His fat face like wax, Easton increased the speed of the car. In a few minutes, both men saw the road block ahead and three policemen waiting.

As the two interns slid the blanket-covered stretcher into the ambulance, Ken Travers came through the crowd. He stopped short at the sight of the stretcher, then seeing the sheriff standing nearby, pulling at his moustache, Travers went over to him.

‘Is she dead?’

‘Hello, Ken, where did you spring from?’ the sheriff said, surprised. ‘I thought you were in ’Frisco.’

‘I heard it on the radio. I came straight back. Is she dead?’

‘Yeah. She jumped while Calvin was trying to talk her down. Where’s Iris?’

‘I left her at the hotel. I guessed she would jump. I didn’t want Iris here.’

‘You’re right… a terrible thing,’ the sheriff shook his head. He moved back as the ambulance began to edge through the crowd. ‘What got into her I can’t imagine.’

Travers asked, ‘Where’s Calvin?’

The sheriff looked vaguely around.

‘I guess he’s somewhere. Poor fellow! They had planned to marry this Saturday… then this happens.’

Travers drew in a deep breath. Now Kit was dead, he was free to arrest Calvin. He could still earn the reward.

‘Sheriff… you’ve got Calvin wrong,’ he said. ‘He is the man we’re hunting for… Johnny Acres. I’ve enough proof to arrest him.’

The sheriff gaped at him.

‘Hey, son! What are you saying?’

‘Lend me your gun, Sheriff. I’m not off the force yet. I want Calvin.’

The sheriff hesitated, then seeing the expression on Travers’s face, he hauled out his .45 and handed it over.

‘Sure you know what you’re doing?’

‘I’m sure. Where is he?’

The sheriff waved to a police sergeant who came over.

‘Seen Mr. Calvin around?’

‘He went off with Mr. Easton,’ the sergeant said. ‘They left together about ten minutes ago.’

‘In Easton’s car?’ Travers asked.

‘No… in Mr. Calvin’s, but Mr. Easton was driving. Mr. Calvin looked pretty bad. I guess Mr. Easton was taking him home.’

‘Do you want to come, Sheriff?’ Travers asked. ‘I’ll talk while you drive.’