James Chase - You've Got It Coming

The microphone he had hidden in Glorie's room was exceptionally sensitive. He could hear her moving about, and when he listened carefully, he could hear her breathing. He lit a cigarette, settled down in his chair and waited.

Glorie had reason to look worried. She had been horrified when Harry had told her of his plan to contact Takamori, and when they had parted at the airport, she was sure she wouldn't see him again. He had promised he would telephone her at four o'clock this afternoon. She had got back at twenty minutes to four, and now she sat down in the only armchair in the room to wait his call.

She was practically certain the call wouldn't come through She had visions of him being in prison or even dead, and she waited, smoking cigarette after cigarette, trying to still the fear in her mind, and trying not to dwell on the possibilities of what could have happened to him.

But as the minute hand of her watch moved on to the hour, the telephone bell rang. She jumped up, knocking the ashtray off the arm of the chair, and snatched up the receiver.

“Glorie?” Harry's voice sounded far away over the crackling line.

“Oh yes, Harry. I've been so worried about you.” The relief of hearing his voice made her feel faint.

“Listen!” He sounded curt and angry. “It didn't work. I can’t talk over the phone. I'm catching a plane to Oklahoma City. I want you to meet me there. There's a six-ten plane out you can catch. It'll get you there in time to meet me. I'll arrive just after ten. Wait at the airport for me.”

“Yes, darling. Wouldn't he take them?”

“He took them all right, but there's no dough,” Harry said, his voice savage. “I’ll tell you when we meet.”

“Yes, Harry. Are you in trouble?”

“I don't think so. Don't talk now.”

“All right, darling. I’ll meet the ten o'clock plane at the Oklahoma City airport. Is that right?”

“That's right. I'll be seeing you,” Harry said and hung up.

Listening in in the other room, Borg fished out another cigarette and lit it. He thought for a long moment, then he took off the headphones and dismantled the amplifier. He put the headphones and the amplifier in his suitcase, slipped on his coat, picked up his hat and let himself out of the room. He walked to the elevator and rode down to the reception hall.

Dodge came over.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Borg said. “Who can tell me the next plane out to Oklahoma City?”

“I'll fix it,” Dodge said and went over to the hall porter. After a brief consultation he came back.

“There's a five o'clock and a six-ten,” he told Borg.

Borg grunted, looked at his watch and decided he could make the five o'clock. He started towards the exit.

“Hey!” Dodge said. “You going?”

Borg didn't stop. He passed through the revolving doors, waved to a taxi, and said, “Airport, fast.”

Dodge watched the taxi drive away, then frowning, he went to his office and sat down. He had laid Borg's money on Red Admiral, and now the race was about to start, he felt uneasy.

For the next twenty minutes, he sat watching the telephone, sweat beading his face. When his informant came through and told him Red Admiral had finished sixth, he slammed down the receiver and sat cursing. He was in trouble. He had to raise some money somehow and raise it quickly. Getting to his feet he opened his office door with the intentions of seeing if he could raise a loan from the hall porter, when he paused. Glorie was at the desk, paying her account. He saw her take from her purse a thick roll of bills, and his eyes narrowed. He waited until she had moved away from the reception desk, he crossed over to her.

“Pardon me, Mrs. Harrison,” he said, “but I'd like a word with you in my office.”

He saw alarm and fear jump into Glorie's eyes. This was going to be easier than he had thought. From experience he knew when they were scared, when they were soft.

“What is it?” Glorie asked, her voice unsteady.

“It won't take long,” Dodge said. “Just come with me.”

They walked together across the hall and into Dodge's office.

He shut the door and waved her to a chair.

“Sit down, Mrs. Harrison,” he said.

Glorie sat down.

“I—I'm in a hurry. What is it, please?”

“I have some information you might like to buy,” Dodge said, watching her closely.

Glorie stiffened.

“I might like to buy?” she repeated. “I don't understand what you mean.”

“It’s simple enough,” Dodge said, with a foxy smile. “A guy has been here making enquiries about you and your husband. If you want details it'll cost you two hundred bucks.”

Glorie turned cold. She looked at her watch. Time was running out if she was to catch the six-ten plane.

“Who was it?” she asked huskily.

“A big, fat, dirty-looking punk with a long, black moustache,” Dodge said. “He said he was working for the Alert Enquiry Agency.”

Glorie went so white Dodge thought she was going to faint.

Borg! Ben's paid killer! she thought, her mind crawling with panic. That could only mean that Ben was after them!

Dodge continued to watch her, his hard little eyes glistening.

“If you want any more of the dope you'll have to buy it,” he said.

With unsteady hands, Glorie opened her bag, took out four fifty-dollar bills and put them on the desk.

Dodge picked them up, examined them and slid them into his hip pocket.

“This guy had photographs of you and your husband,” he said. “He said your name was Griffin. He showed me the photographs and I identified you and Mr. Harrison.” When he saw how Glorie blanched, he began to wonder if he shouldn't have asked for a lot more than two hundred dollars. “He took a room opposite yours,” he went on. “One of the bell hops reported to me he had seen this guy in your room. He was fixing a microphone so you can bet he listened in to anything you said if you used the telephone.”

Glorie felt as if a splinter of ice had been driven into her heart. A microphone! Then Borg had heard her arrange to meet Harry at the Oklahoma City airport!

“He left about half an hour ago,” Dodge went on He asked me what time the next plane to Oklahoma City left. He’s catching the five o'clock plane if that's of any interest to you.”

Glorie turned even colder. That must mean Borg would be at the airport when Harry arrived, she thought. She had heard tales about Borg from Delaney. He was one of the finest marksmen in the country. He would have no trouble in picking Harry off as he came from the aircraft. He had an hour's start. He would have time to find a hiding place and then all he had to do was to wait until Harry's aircraft landed and then shoot him as he made his way to the reception hall. How could she warn Harry?

She clenched her fists as she tried to think of some way to save him.

“I guess that's all,” Dodge went on. “You want to watch that fat guy. I didn't like the look of him.”

Glorie got to her feet. Without a word, she went out of Dodge s office, walked quickly across to where the bellhop waited with her suitcases.

“Get me a taxi to the airport,” she said, “and hurry!”

Dodge watched her, then, as the taxi took her away, he shrugged his shoulders and moved to his desk. He sat down and picked up the racing sheet. He began to concentrate on the next afternoon's runners.

II

Below him, Harry could see the lights of Oklahoma City airport as the aircraft came around in a wide circle before making its run in to land.

Harry was feeling a little high. While he had waited at the Los Angeles airport he had had four double whiskies, and he still felt their effect. As he sat waiting for the aircraft to land, he thought back on what had happened since Takamori had defeated him.