James Chase - This Way for a Shroud

Conrad shifted restlessly; the despondent expression deepened.

“Miss Coleman and Weiner.”

“Fallen in love with each other?” Forest repeated, startled. “How did they fall in love with each other?”

Conrad looked up then.

“How do people fall in love with each other?” he asked quietly. “It’s one of those damned odd things that can’t be explained. Two people meet and then something happens. It’s like two pieces of a jig-saw puzzle that have been floating about for years. Then suddenly through no known reason they come together and fit. It can happen as easily as that.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“I’m pretty sure. Miss Coleman asked me yesterday if she could talk to Weiner. Up to now we have kept them apart, but Miss Fielding, who is looking after Miss Coleman, tells me she remains at the window watching Weiner as he exercises in the grounds, and I hear he watches her when she is in the grounds.”

“But that doesn’t mean they’re in love with each other,” Forest said a little impatiently. Conrad shrugged.

“You have only to see them when they talk about each other to know how they feel.” He got up abruptly and began to pace up and down. “How the hell a nice girl like that could fall in love with a little rat like Weiner beats me. There’s nothing to him. He’s got that hideous birthmark. He’s been a crook all his life. I just don’t know how she could have any feeling for a man like that. It beats me.”

Forest raised his eyebrows. Surely Paul couldn’t have fallen for this girl, he asked himself. He was certainly behaving like a rejected suitor. But surely not. Forest had met Janey and had been very impressed by her beauty. He had thought Conrad was a lucky devil to have married such a lively, glamorous girl.

“Maybe it’s because of his background and his birthmark,” Forest said quietly. “Girls can be damned funny animals.”

“I guess so.”

“But what’s the problem, Paul? It’s not our business if they have fallen in love with each other, is it?”

“No, but am I to let them meet? Miss Coleman asked if she could share Weiner’s exercise time; a couple of hours a day.”

“I should say not. What do you think?”

Conrad continued to pace up and down.

“It’s not as easy as that,” he said slowly. “We mustn’t lose sight of our objective. We want to persuade this girl to give evidence against Maurer. If she were allowed to talk to Weiner there is a good chance he’ll talk about himself. It’s possible he might even talk to her about Maurer. She’s bound to want to know why he accepted the order to murder her. To justify himself in her eyes he may let her into the secrets of the organization. Coming from him it may have a startling effect. Up to now, she doesn’t believe a word I say. She imagines I’m only interested in getting her to give evidence, and that I’m deliberately colouring the background to influence her. Coming from Weiner it might make her realize where her duty lies. I don’t know. It’s a problem, but I’m inclined to let them meet and talk.”

“Hmm, yes; there’s something in that. But suppose he puts her off still more? He may throw a scare into her that’ll keep her permanently quiet. Thought of that?”

“Then he won’t be practising what he’ll be preaching. At least, he’s talked himself, and she knows he has admitted he was ordered to kill her. I’ve told her.”

“Well, all right. We’ve got to try something. We can’t hold her much longer. Let them meet, but they are to be under constant surveillance. They are not to be allowed to go off together. Instruct the guards to keep out of earshot, but not to lose sight of them.”

“All right,” Conrad said. “Well, I guess that’s all. I’d better be getting back.”

“There’s one thing we haven’t decided,” Forest said, “and that’s why this girl, if she did see Maurer, won’t admit it. That’s something we’ve got to find out, Paul.”

“The obvious reason is she’s scared of Maurer.”

Forest shook his head.

“I doubt that. A girl of her type wouldn’t know much about Maurer, only what she’s read in the press. I admit his reputation is damned bad, but people who learn about gangster’s reputations from newspapers aren’t really convinced they are as dangerous as the papers make them out to be. There’s something more important than that that’s keeping her quiet. Ever thought she might have a record and she’s scared Maurer’s counsel might bring it up at the trial?”

“That’s a little far-fetched, isn’t it?” Conrad said sharply.

Forest gently touched off the ash from his cigar.

“Yes, it’s far-fetched, but we don’t know. It might be something else. She might have run away from home or she may have a husband who’s looking for her. What I’m getting at is this: if she does give evidence against Maurer her photograph and her name are going to be splashed on the front pages of every newspaper in the country. It may be she wants to avoid this publicity for a personal reason, and that’s why she’s keeping quiet. I think we should dig around and see if we can turn up this personal reason, always supposing it exists.”

“Yes, I think we should do that,” Conrad said in a flat voice.

Forest was now almost sure the girl had made a big impression on Conrad, and the discovery startled him. Could Conrad have fallen in love with her, he asked himself.

“All right, then let’s dig a little,” he said. “Would you like to handle it? Do you want to remain at the lodge out of circulation or would you rather come back here and are what you can find out about the girl’s background?”

Conrad didn’t hesitate.

“I’ll stay on at the lodge. The important thing is to keep her safe. I’ve accepted the responsibility and I want to see it through. I’ll send Van back. He can do the digging.”

It was then that Forest became sure Conrad had fallen in love with Frances Coleman.

He spread his hands on the blotter and his hard eyes searched Conrad’s face.

“What do you think of this girl, Paul? I mean how does she strike you as a man regarding a woman?”

Conrad looked at Forest.

“Does that come into it? Does it matter what I think of her?”

Disconcerted by Conrad’s straight look, Forest lifted his heavy shoulders.

“No, you’re quite right.” He stubbed out his cigar. “I shouldn’t have asked that. Well, I guess I’ve got to get on with my work. Let me know how things develop.”

“I will,” Conrad said, and made for the door.

When he had gone, Forest stared gloomily down at his blotter.

He sat thinking for a few moments, his face worried, then with a sudden shrug of his shoulders, he reached for the pile of papers that were waiting his attention.

Sergeant Tom O’Brien stood at the foot of the bed and looked down at his son. O’Brien’s usually granite-hard face had softened, making him look younger, and there was a twinkle in his eyes never seen by either his colleagues or by his customers.

“Go to sleep,” he said, “or you and me will run into trouble when your mother comes home.”

His son, a freckle-faced youngster within reaching distance of a seventh birthday, gave his father a wide, disarming smile.

“How’s about telling me how you cornered Little Caesar and the fight you had with him?” he inquired hopefully. “It won’t take long, and we needn’t tell mummy.”

O’Brien pretended to be shocked. His son’s hero-worship was the biggest thing in his life. For a moment he wrestled with the temptation to tell the old favourite again, but it was already past nine o’clock and he had promised his wife he would have the kid in bed and asleep by eight.