Джеймс Чейз - The Way the Cookie Crumbles

‘I got it. A cop was in the bank. He asked me if I knew a girl named Ira Marsh.’

Edris’ face went slack.

‘Yes, little man,’ Ira said softly. ‘It won’t be long now. How crazy could I have been to have done this thing with you? How crazy? They know. Well, a few more hours, not longer.’

Edris slid off his chair.

‘Give me the money! You come with me, baby. You and me can get out of here! We’ve still got a chance. Come on, give me the money!’

‘I put it back in the safe. Why should I make more trouble for myself? So long, Ticky. It won’t be long. We’ll meet again in the cop house,’ and turning, she walked swiftly out of the cafe and into the glare of the sun.

Jess Farr, seated in the rented Ford, his hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, a puzzled expression on his face, watched Ira leave the cafe opposite the Florida Safe Deposit Bank.

He had been parked under the palm trees now for the past hour. He had seen Ticky Edris arrive. He had seen Ira enter the cafe and after a few minutes come out, looking as if her world had fallen apart. He had watched her enter the bank.

He waited impatiently for Edris to appear, but he didn’t. All this puzzled Jess. Why had Edris turned up instead of Algir? It never occurred to Jess to buy a newspaper. He never read newspapers: he never read anything.

He lit a cigarette and settled himself more comfortably and continued to wait. An hour and three-quarters crawled by and he began to lose his nerve. If he remained much longer parked here, he thought, some cop would start to get nosey and then he could be in trouble. Then just as he was deciding to change his parking place, he saw Ira again come from the bank and walk quickly over to the cafe. He stiffened to attention because there was a marked change in Ira’s appearance. This was the old Ira he had known in New York. That walk. that tense, hard expression, that set of her shoulders. He flicked the butt of his cigarette out of the car window as he watched her enter the cafe. She had got the dough, he thought. He was sure of that, and he reached forward to switch on the ignition. She only remained in the cafe for a few minutes. She came out and hurried to the parking lot behind the bank. As he lost sight of her, he saw Edris come trotting out of the cafe.

He stared at Edris as other people, passing along the sidewalk, were staring. The dwarf looked half demented. His face was the colour of wax. His small mouth was twitching. His stumpy hands flopped against his sides like newly landed fish as he bounced and hopped towards his parked Mini.

What the hell was up? Jess asked himself, pressing down the starter. As Edris got into his car and slammed the door, Jess began to edge the Ford out of the parking bay. The Mini took off and headed towards Seacombe.

Jess went after it.

Lepski stood by his car, hesitating. There was one small chance he could take to set his mind at rest. Should he take it? If it didn’t come off, the Chief wouldn’t be pleased, but if it did...!

Lepski abruptly made up his mind. He got into his car, started the engine and swung the car into the traffic. Driving carefully and fast, he headed for highway 4A and for Miami.

Once free of the traffic congestion and when he had reached the beginning of the highway, he glanced at his watch. The time was 10.36 hours. He was due back at headquarters at 11.30 hours. He would certainly have to shift if he hoped to be back anywhere near that time. He spotted a patrol officer, sitting astride his parked motorcycle, checking the busy traffic. He pulled up beside him.

‘Hi, Tim,’ he said. ‘I have an emergency in my hair. Will you open up the way for me? First stop Graham Co-Ed School, Miami. Let’s get there in thirty minutes flat.’

The traffic cop grinned as he gunned his engine to life.

‘Can’t be done,’ he said. ‘Thirty-eight and a half minutes if you can keep up with me.’

Nodding, Lepski let the cop go on ahead, then he went after him. The cop opened up with his siren, and as the traffic hurriedly shifted to the right, he twisted the hand throttle.

As Lepski shoved his foot down on the gas pedal, he thought that the Chief would flip his lid if he could see him now, blasting along the highway at 124 miles an hour. The long, straight highway seemed to melt away under the flying wheels. The cars Lepski passed were grey smudges that flinched over the whoosh of air that hit them as he overtook. He crouched a little, holding the steering wheel firmly, his eyes riveted on the patrol officer’s back.

He kept fifty yards behind him, and as the speed moved slowly up to 130 miles an hour, he thought a little fearfully that a front blowout now would win him only a very modest casket and a deep hole in the ground.

Twenty minutes later, they were reaching the end of the highway and the cop raised his hand, signalling to Lepski to reduce speed. They both entered the outskirts of Miami at seventy miles an hour that seemed a crawl after the ferocious speed on the highway.

Sixteen minutes later, they were driving sedately up the carriage way leading to the Graham Co-Ed School.

Lepski pulled up and got out. His legs were a little shaky, but he grinned cheerfully at the patrol officer who grinned back.

‘Nice driving, Tim,’ he said. ‘There’s a repeat performance. I want you to take me back when I’m through here.’

‘Okay,’ the patrol officer said. ‘We’ll clip a few minutes off on the way back. The traffic won’t be so heavy.’

Lepski walked up the steps and rang the bell. Dr. Graham himself opened the door.

‘Morning, Sir,’ Lepski said. ‘Paradise City Police. I think you could help me. Could I come in?’

Graham nodded and stood aside.

‘I hope this won’t take long, officer,’ he said as he led the way into his study. ‘I have an appointment.’

‘Shouldn’t take long, sir,’ Lepski said, taking the chair Graham waved to. ‘I’m making inquiries concerning a pupil of yours: Norena Marsh Devon.’

Graham looked vaguely startled.

‘She’s left us now. She...’

‘Yeah, I know that. Tell me, Doctor, she wore spectacles. right?’

‘Yes, she did.’

‘Could she read without them?’

‘Certainly not. She always wore them. I don’t understand. What...’

‘Were the frames of her spectacles made of blue plastic?’

Graham stared blankly.

‘Come to think of it, they were blue. I don’t know about being plastic. Could you explain just why you are asking these questions?’

‘We have reason to believe that Norena Devon is the unidentified girl found murdered at Coral Cove,’ Lepski said, gravely.

Graham stiffened, shocked.

‘Good gracious! What makes...?’

‘I’ll ask the questions, doctor,’ Lepski said firmly. He took from his wallet Algir’s photograph.

‘Seen this man before?’

‘Why, yes. That’s Mr. Tebbel, Norena’s mother’s attorney.’

Lepski drew in a long slow breath. So he had been right!

‘Have you a photograph of Norena Devon?’ he asked.

‘Why, yes, I have. We always have class photographs taken at the end of term,’ Graham said, and getting to his feet he walked over to a filing cabinet. After a moment’s delay, he produced a photograph.

He crossed the room and handed the photograph to Lepski.

Half out of his mind with fear, Edris drove fast along the highway towards Seacombe. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts for his safety that he failed to notice the dusty Ford that tagged along in his rear.

There wasn’t a moment to lose, he told himself. Already the cops might be looking for him. He too had contacts along the Waterfront. His best bet was to get on a boat for Mexico.