Джеймс Чейз - The Way the Cookie Crumbles

‘I’m telling you they won’t find out that fast,’ Edris said calmly. ‘I’m willing to take that risk for dough like this. I know Terrell. Okay, he’s sure, but he’s slow. I could stay right here in this apartment for another week and still be safe.’

Algir poured himself another drink. His face was thoughtful now and watching him, Edris could see he was nibbling at the bait.

‘You really think that?’ Algir said, turning to face Edris.

‘Of course I do. You don’t imagine I’d risk my neck if I wasn’t sure?’

Algir tossed the whisky down his throat. He told himself he would be crazy to let Edris have that hundred thousand fish when half of it rightly belonged to him.

‘Well, maybe I will wait until tomorrow,’ he said slowly. ‘I could get the afternoon plane out tomorrow.’

‘If you’re still nervous, get off today,’ Edris said, now enjoying himself. ‘Besides, I could use your share, Philly boy. You get off now.’

‘Shut up, damn you!’ Algir snarled. ‘Half that money belongs to me and I’m going to have it!’

‘Well, okay, if you’ve made up your goddamn mind,’ Edris said and he went into the kitchenette and started the coffee brewing again.

He had to have Algir, he thought, but he cursed the day he had picked him. Algir was right. As soon as he got the money, he would have to get out of Paradise City. The cops could pick him up so easily. He had only to show himself on the street for anyone to recognize him. But there was still a chance the cops wouldn’t identify the girl. He would clear out and wait. If nothing happened after a few months, he would come back. Ira would still be at the bank. He would find someone else to take Algir’s place.

His scheme wasn’t entirely sunk.

But where to go until he was sure he was safe?

Mexico? Could be an idea. He poured coffee into two cups. It wasn’t as if he would be short of money. He might have himself a good time in Mexico. And if Algir really imagined he was going to get his share, he was in for a surprise.

All Algir was going to get for being a hero was a slug in the back.

For some, this hot Sunday passed slowly; for others it passed fast.

Ira thought the day would never end. Soon after ten, Mel had left to meet Joy. They planned to spend the day at the beach cabin. He asked Ira along, but she had refused.

‘You two love birds want to be alone. I’m fine,’ she had said with a lightness she didn’t feel. ‘I’m going to the Club.’

When Mel had gone, she went up to her room and sat by the open window. She had twelve days ahead of her before she left. She still wasn’t sure where she would go. She wasn’t afraid of the future. She knew how to look after herself, but she bitterly regretted leaving Mel, this house and her room.

She lit a cigarette and put her feet up on the window sill. She hated the thought of Edris and Algir getting away with the money she had helped them to steal, but there was nothing she could do about that without getting into trouble herself. At least, by going away, she would stop them getting any more. But for twelve more days she would have to go on getting key impressions for them and this worried her.

After much thought, she finally decided what she would do when Mel and Joy left for their honeymoon. Her best plan would be to drive to the beach cabin, change into the clothes she had come in to Paradise City, tint her hair dark, leave the car and walk to the highway where she could catch a Greyhound bus to Miami. From there, she would take another bus to Texas. With the money she had saved, she would have no trouble, and once in Texas, she would get a job.

The day passed slowly for Algir who sat by the radio listening to every news announcement, afraid to go out and cursing himself for ever getting involved with Edris.

Around ten o’clock, he called the airport and booked a seat for the Havana flight the following afternoon. He packed his bag. Then with nothing else to do, he again sat before the radio, sweating it out and reading and rereading the newspaper account of the finding of Norena’s body.

Edris was much more in control of his nerves. He left the apartment while Algir was calling the airport. He drove to La Coquille restaurant where he found the maître d’hôtel planning the menu for the evening. He told him that he had to go to New York where an old friend was dying and asking for him. Louis said he could go if he had to, but he couldn’t expect to be paid while he was away.

‘That’s all right,’ Edris said, longing to spit in Louis’ face, but determined to keep up good appearances to the end. ‘I understand that. I’ll get back as fast as I can, but I could be away for ten days. I’m sorry, Mr. Louis, to let you down.’

Outside the maître d’hôtel’s office, he made an obscene gesture at the door before going down to where he had parked his car. He drove to the airport and booked a seat on the Mexican flight, leaving the next afternoon.

The time was now midday. He drove back to Paradise City, parked his Mini and went to a nearby bar. He ordered a double whisky on the rocks and a chicken and ham sandwich. While he was eating, Bert Hamilton of the Sun wandered in.

‘Hello there,’ Hamilton drawled, coming to rest beside Edris. ‘How’s my court jester?’

Edris smiled at him.

‘Swell. How’s yourself?’

‘Lousy.’ Hamilton ordered a straight whisky. ‘I was up nearly all night with this murder thing. You read about it?’

‘Sure.’ Edris finished his drink and ordered another. ‘I always read your rag, Bert. What’s new?’

‘Nothing so far. No one knows who the girl is. Between you and me, I don’t think they’re going to find out either, but don’t quote me. Whoever she is, she must have come from miles away. The cops have reports in from all Florida now and there are no girls matching her description missing. So now they’re spreading the net. She could come from New York. anywhere.’

‘Captain Terrell’s a smart man,’ Edris said. ‘He’ll find her if anyone can.’ He looked questioningly at Hamilton. ‘Haven’t they one single clue then?’

Hamilton, who hadn’t been told about the spectacles, shook his head.

‘Not one, no scars, no dental work, fingerprints don’t help, no body marks, no nothing.’

Edris finished his drink and slid off the stool. He felt suddenly relaxed and carefree.

‘Well, I’ll get along. See you, Bert,’ and nodding he bounced out of the bar.

The day dragged for Jess Farr. He spent it on a deserted part of the beach by himself. He was anxious that no one should see him. It would be a lot safer for him, he reasoned, after he had done what he planned to do the following morning if no one remembered him. He also remembered what Ira had said about the cops picking him up, dressed the way he was. He wasn’t going to let that happen if he could help it.

So he planned to stay on the beach and sleep in the rented car. He had brought food with him. He swam, smoked and drank too much. He hated being alone. He thought the day would never end.

The day passed too swiftly for the men of the Homicide squad. Every available man at the headquarters had been thrown into a search for information regarding the broken spectacles. The lab boys had come up with some useful information considering what they had had to work on.

At 07.45 Terrell was still at his desk. Beigler and Hess were with him. The three men were drinking coffee and smoking. Terrell was looking through the report from the lab for the third time. He seemed to be trying to squeeze more information out of it than it actually contained. The lab boys had classified the two lenses of the broken spectacles. They said the owner of the spectacles suffered from acute astigmatism and would have to wear the spectacles constantly. The right eye was more affected than the left.