Francis Nevins - Night and Fear

“Malarkey!” I growled, and belted up my waterproof. The taxi went one way, I went the other way after my quarry.

This time instead of beer I had to sit drinking vile coffee in a cheap cafeteria, while he took the bill out from time to time and studied it surreptitiously below table-level, across the room from me.

“Planning what you’d like to get with it, if it was only whole,” I thought pityingly. “Little knowing what you’re likely to get, because of it.”

I could see him day-dreaming there under the lights. I could almost see the girl and the bungalow and the frigidaire — or maybe it was a radio — in his eyes.

“Damn Trainor!” I seethed. “Damn Fredericks!” Why didn’t they drop a whole bill with no murder-strings attached, and make someone happy! One thing was sure, if there was going to be any killing in this, it wouldn’t be through him. You could read goodness in his face. Trainor had shown good judgment in his choice this time.

I followed him home through the rain at two that morning, and if his thoughts hadn’t been so preoccupied with what he’d found, I’m sure he would have caught on easily enough. The jaunty cut of the waterproof, and the rustling noise it made, were too damn easy to identify. But he was walking on air. A troop of elephants could have followed him and he wouldn’t have known it.

He went to a little hole-in-the-wall flat in the Chelsea part of town, and me twenty yards behind him. And then I was in for a bad jolt! He had his own key, so I couldn’t get his name from the mailboxes in the grubby little foyer. To avoid having to come around the next day and ask questions of the janitor, I deliberately went up the inner stairs after him (the street-door was unlocked) to ascertain what his flat number was in that way, if I could. I heard a door on the third floor close after him, and when I got up to the landing it was 25, since that was the only one had voices coming from inside it. You could hear everything out there where I was.

I heard a kiss, and a sweetly solicitous voice asked: “Tired, dear?” Then he told her about what he’d found, and they stood there just the other side of the door, planning what they could have done with it if it had only been intact.

“Maybe,” she suggested wistfully, “if you take it around to the bank, they’d give you something on it in partial redemption, a hundred or even fifty. Even that would be a Godsend!”

Then an infant started whimpering somewhere in the back of the flat, and I crept downstairs again all choked up. Married, and with a young baby! It was inhuman to torture people like that. And to place them in danger of being murdered was bestial.

25, the mailbox said, was rented by Noble Dreyer.

I jotted the name and address down. I said, as I girded my waterproof up and went out into the wet again, “Well, Dreyer, you don’t know it, but I’m your guardian angel from now on.”

I met Fredericks and Trainor by appointment at the former’s club, at cocktail time next afternoon. I had very little to say, only “The guy’s name is Noble Dreyer.” And I gave them the address. I didn’t mention the wife, I didn’t mention the kid, I didn’t mention the guardian angel.

Fredericks said, with about as much emotion as an oyster, “Good. Now all that remains is to inform the two parties of one another’s existence and whereabouts, and the test is under way.”

We followed him into the club’s writing room, and he sat down and addressed two envelopes, one to Casey, 99th Street, the other to Dreyer, 24th Street. Then he put them aside and wrote two identical notes, on club stationery.

THE OTHER HALF OF WHAT YOU PICKED UP AT 7TH AVENUE, 42ND STREET, IS AT THIS MOMENT IN THE POSSESSION OF (HE INSERTED CASEY’S NAME AND ADDRESS ON ONE, DREYER’S ON THE OTHER), HE FOUND IT IN THE SAME WAY YOU DID YOURS. YOU HAVE AS MUCH RIGHT TO THE WHOLE BILL AS HE HAS!

The come-on, of course, was that last sentence. It was an invitation to murder if there ever was one. But Trainor made no objection. “The average, decent, normal man,” he said, “will not be incited to murder even by getting information like this. He’ll envy maybe, or even try to strike a bargain with his co-holder, but he won’t kill.”

Was Trainor right?

Fredericks left the notes unsigned, of course. He blotted, folded each one over. I was holding the two addressed envelopes in my hand. “I’ll seal them for you,” I said quietly and took them from him before he could object. I put each one in an envelope, moistened and closed the flap and sent the steward for stamps. “Mail these for Mr. Fredericks,” I said.

Then I took a good long drink, and I felt better than I’d felt yet since the devilish bet had been made.

“That’s that,” Fredericks said, gleefully rubbing his hands. “Now, of course, we must be ready with some sort of preventive measure, or at least some form of supervision, to keep them from going whole hog. Although I don’t suppose you two’ll give me credit for it, I don’t want either of them to lose their lives — if I can help it.”

The way he said that burned me, as though he were talking about some form of insect life. “Oh no-o, of course not,” I drawled, “it’s all just in the spirit of good clean fun, that’s understood. And now, what precaution do you propose taking? Sending them each a bullet-proof vest? Or maybe just a rabbit’s foot will do.”

I smiled tightly.

He’d never had much sense of humor. If he had, he’d have been in hysterics his whole life — at himself. “The idea will take a while to ferment,” he said seriously. “Premeditated murder always does. Probably nothing much will happen for a day or two, while they digest the thought that the other half-bill is theirs for the taking. Suppose Trainor and I keep an eye on this Dreyer, and you sort of stay close to our friend Casey. That way we can keep one another posted, the minute an overt move gets under way. Just give them rope enough to leave no doubt of their intentions, but be prepared to step in between as a buffer before the act is actually carried out. It shouldn’t be necessary to drag the police in at any time. The mere knowledge that three outsiders have read their minds and know what’s going on, should be enough to scotch the inclination once and for all. Nobody commits murder before an audience.

Trainor said: “I want one thing understood. I want positive evidence of murderous intent on the part of either one of them before I’ll consent to your claiming the money. I won’t have you jumping to the conclusion that just because Casey, let’s say, set out to look up Dreyer, he’s going to take his life. If he goes there provided ahead of time with a weapon, that’s another matter; you’ve won the bet. If he doesn’t, you haven’t proved anything. There’s nothing more normal than for him to seek out the other man, try to strike a bargain or come to some agreement with him, or even just talk the thing over with him out of curiosity. I want proof of a murderous intention, and, my friend, many a prosecutor has found out that’s the hardest thing there is to get!”

He could have saved his breath. I could have told both of them I didn’t think there was much chance of Casey or Dreyer approaching one another at all within the next few days. But I didn’t. They might have asked me why I was so sure, and I was in no position to answer. Ethically; I wasn’t troubled in the slightest. In reality the bet would end in a stalemate. In appearance, it would be decided in Trainor’s favor. That was all to the good. He could use that two thousand better than Fredericks, who was a louse anyway.

This was Thursday evening. They wouldn’t get the notes Fredericks had sent them until Friday morning so there was no reason to start keeping an eye on them until Friday evening. Since they both worked daytimes, Dreyer as manager of a chain grocery branch-store, it was only after working hours that they needed to be kept under observation. I may have felt privately that there was no reason for it even then, but I went through with it for form’s sake. We established, as points of contact by which to get in touch with one another in case of necessity, the saloon Casey frequented and an all-night drugstore on the corner below Dreyer’s flat. They were to call me or I was to call them, if anything got under way at either end that required quick action.