1945 - Blonde's Requiem (5 page)

“
Are you sure it
’
s a check?
”
she asked, a puzzled, curious expression in her eyes.

“
Maybe the nigger likes me and wants me to go out with him.
”
I took her by her elbow and pushed her gently from the room, across the passage and into her room. You
’
d be surprised how coy some of these niggers are.
”

I opened her bag with a hairpin she lent me. It didn
’
t take me a minute.
“
Do you see?
”
I said, smiling at her.
“
I
’
m not called Picklock Harry by my friends for nothing.
”

“
I thought your name was Marc?
”
she said.

“
So it is, but I don
’
t tell everyone that.
”
I went over to the door and opened it.
“
Suppose you and me get acquainted? How about having dinner with me tonight?
”

She looked at me thoughtfully. I could see what was going in her mind.

“
Don
’
t go mixing me up with the local masher,
”
I said gently.
“
I don
’
t have any strings hanging to my invitations.
”

She blushed faintly and laughed.
“
Sorry,
”
she said quickly,
“
but I
’
ve had too many experiences. A girl in my position develops a lot of arm muscles pushing off gentlemen with high blood pressure. I
’
m feeling a little tired tonight, so I didn
’
t want anything like that.
”

“
There
’
s nothing up my sleeve,
”
I said.
“
But skip it if you
’
d rather.
”

“
I
’
d love to,
”
she returned.
“
Give me time for a bath. Eight o
’
clock?
”

“
Eight o
’
clock,
”
I said, and left her.

I went back to my room, took out the envelope from my pocket and opened it. The note inside was typewritten:

You have twelve hours to get out of town. We won
’
t tell you again. You won
’
t even know what hit you. It
’
s not because we don
’
t like you, we do, but there isn
’
t enough air in Cranville for us all. So be a wise guy and dust. We
’
ll fix the funeral if you don
’
t.

I poured myself out another drink and sat down. The guy who had slipped this under my door must be in one of the rooms either side of mine. He couldn
’
t have run down the passage and out of sight in the time it had taken me to reach the door.

I stared at the wall opposite me and then at the wall behind me. I wondered which room he was in and whether he was sitting there wondering what I was going to do. The idea gave me a spooky feeling.

I put the letter carefully away, thought for a moment, then went over to the table to write my report to Colonel Forsberg. I had an hour and a half before I saw Marian French again. In that time I had to write to Forsberg, take a bath and decide whether I was going to leave town tomorrow morning or not.

I sat at the table thinking, then I reached for my bag, opened it and took out a black Police .38. I let it lie in my hand while I stared out of the window at the traffic. Then I shoved it down the waistband of my trousers and adjusted my vest points over the butt.

“
I
think,
”
Marian French said calmly,
“
we are being followed.
”

We had finished dinner and were on our way back to the hotel. A large, sullen-looking moon hung in the cloudless sky and floodlit the street. The night air was stifling and I carried my coat on my arm.

Marian, in a light summer frock, her hat in her hand, had wanted to walk back to the hotel. It was just after ten o
’
clock when we left the restaurant and we had crossed the street and were walking in the deep shadows when she made the remark.

I glanced down at her.
“
Sure all those ice drinks aren
’
t upsetting your judgment?
”
I asked.

She shook her head.
“
I don
’
t think so. Don
’
t look now, but have a feeling someone is interested in us.
”

I didn
’
t want any trouble just then. There was no reason to mix Marian up in my affairs. I looked around for a taxi, but the long street was deserted. I glanced back over my shoulder, but the shadows from the houses were too dark to get a clear view of the street.

“
I don
’
t see anyone,
”
I said, increasing my stride.
“
Did you?
”

“
There was a man standing opposite the restaurant when we came out. He started after us, but I lost sight of him. I didn
’
t think anything of it until I saw him again as he passed under a street light. He dodged into a doorway as I looked back. The sudden way he did it gave me the heebies. Perhaps I
’
m a little nervy tonight.
”

She put her slim hand in mine and squeezed my fingers.

“
What was he like?
”

“
I didn
’
t see him clearly,
”
she returned.
“
He was big, but I couldn
’
t make out how he was dressed or what he looked like.
”

“
Okay,
”
I said.
“
Don
’
t get excited. Maybe he isn
’
t following us, but if he is we
’
ll soon find out. We
’
ll turn the next corner and you go on. The clatter you make with your heels ought to fox him. I
’
ll wait for him and give him a surprise.
”

“
Is that a good idea?
”
She looked anxiously up into my face.
“
He might be dangerous.
”

I grinned at her.
“
He won
’
t be. They never arc.
”
I opened my coat and my fingers touched the smooth butt of the .38.
“
There
’
s a turning just ahead. You go straight on. Can you find your way back to the hotel if I
’
m delayed?
”

“
I think so,
”
she said, a little doubtfully.
“
Are you sure you
’
re doing the right thing? You don
’
t want to be—hurt. I wouldn
’
t like—
”

“
That
’
s all right,
”
I said, patting her hand.
“
In my job this kind of thing happens every so often. I haven
’
t been hurt yet.
”

We turned the corner and I gave her a little push forward.
“
On your way, honey,
”
I said softly,
“
and make those heels ring.
”

She gave me a quick look and went on. Her wooden heels clicked steadily on the brick pavement.

I put my hand on my gun and leaned against the wall, watching the corner.

All I could hear was the distant roar of the traffic on Main Street, the fading sound of Marian
’
s heels on the sidewalk and the ticking of my wristwatch.

I stood there for several minutes, then I heard light footsteps approaching. I loosened my gun a trifle and waited. At the corner the footfalls slowed and then stopped. There was a long pause of silence; even the traffic seemed to have ceased to hurtle along Main Street.

I didn
’
t move. I stood close against the wall, breathing gently through my nose while I strained to hear the slightest sound.

Whoever it was round the corner coughed suddenly. A low, smothered cough that startled me. I half drew the gun and then, grinning savagely to myself, shoved it back again.

There came a faint sound and then a long starved shadow edged forward along the brick pavement ahead of me. I looked at the shadow and I felt spooked.

Sweat that had been running down the back of my neck and under my arms seemed suddenly to go cold on me.

A man was standing out of my sight and the moonlight had cast his shadow in such a way I could see it without seeing him.

The shadow was a sinister caricature of the man. It made him seem tremendously tall with enormous shoulders. The slouch hat seemed absurdly small in comparison with the vast shoulders and his wide trousers looked like sails. He stood motionless, his hands sunk into his coat pockets and his head thrust forward.

Very cautiously, I thumbed back the safety-catch on my gun. I watched the motionless shadow for several minutes, but it didn
’
t move. I guessed whoever it was round the corner knew I was waiting for him and he had made up his mind not to make the first move.

The sound of Marian
’
s heels had died away. There was a hot, stifling stillness in the night that added to my spookiness. Then suddenly a woman laughed hysterically. The high-pitched, almost idiotic sound came from above my head. I took a step back and glanced quickly up.

On the fourth floor of a nearby house one solitary window blazed light into the street. As I looked, a hot wind suddenly blew up and the dirty curtains hanging outside the window flapped convulsively like the flounderings of a dying fish.

The woman laughed again and then the sound died away in a whimpering gurgle. A moment later she began to weep.

I looked once more at the corner of the street and down at the brick pavement. The shadow had gone. No other sound came to me except the harsh, bitter sobbing from the woman and the flapping of the curtain in the wind.

I drew my gun and edged towards the corner. Taking off my hat, I peered round the wall into the street beyond. There was no sign of the man who had been following us. The street was empty but for a stringy-looking cat that bolted into the shadows at the sight of me.

I took out my handkerchief and wiped my face. Then I laughed softly.
“
All right,
”
I said to myself,
“
that made you as jittery as hell.
”
I tucked my handkerchief away, thinking that a few more nights like this and I
’
d be ready for the nut house.

I looked up and down the street, made certain that there was no one around, then in spite of the heat, I ran after Marian. She was waiting for me at the next corner and when she saw me coining, she moved quickly towards me.

“
Phew!
”
she said, grasping my arm.
“
I was scared something was going to happen. Did you see anyone?
”

“
No, except a cat that looked like it could do with a meal,
”
I returned, smiling at her.
“
And you don
’
t have to be scared of cats.
”

“
I was scared,
”
she confessed.
“
I must be getting nervy or something. But I was sure that man was following us.
”

I spotted a cab crawling down the street and I waved.
“
We
’
ll drive back and you can get yourself a good night
’
s rest. You
’
ll feel fine in the morning.
”

When we had got into the cab, she said:
“
You wouldn
’
t be lying, would you?
”

I patted her hand.
“
Not to you,
”
I assured her.
“
There just wasn
’
t anyone around.
”

“
I don
’
t understand it,
”
she returned.
“
I don
’
t really. When. I saw that man duck out of sight, I felt my flesh creep. I
’
ve never felt that way before.
”

Every few seconds as the cab whizzed past a street light I caught a fleeting glimpse of her face. She looked white and tired and her finely pencilled eyebrows were knitted in a frown.

“
Forget it,
”
I said.
“
There wasn
’
t anyone there. You
’
re letting your imagination play you tricks.
”

“
I wonder why you took me out tonight,
”
she said unexpectedly.

“
I told you. I was lonely, you were lonely, and Cranville
’
s pretty grim town. You
’
re not sorry, are you?
”

“
Sorry?
”
She shook her head.
“
I
’
ve had one of the nicest evenings of my life. Only I wish I hadn
’
t been so silly just now.
”
She sat up and swivelled round so that she was facing me.
“
What
’
s the matter with this town? When I got off the train I felt . . .
”
She stopped and then went on:
“
Oh, never mind, I guess the heat has made me nervy.
”

“
What did you feel?
”
I asked, taking her slim hand in mine.

“
I felt scared. There
’
s something about this place that makes me nervous. It
’
s so hard and dirty and cold. There
’
s a queer kind of
‘
frightened atmosphere about the people. Have you noticed it, or am I just imagining it?
”

“
It
’
s dirty and hard and cold all right,
”
I said, being purposely casual.
“
But that needn
’
t scare you—
”

‘
You weren
’
t kidding about the girls who
’
ve disappeared?
”
she broke in.
“
I mean you really are going to try and find them?
”

“
Sure, but that
’
s nothing to do with the town. Girls disappear in any town. Why have you suddenly thought about them?
”

“
I don
’
t know. Oh, I guess I
’
m tired. I
’
ll be all right in the morning.
”

While she was speaking the cab drew up outside the hotel.
“
That
’
s the idea,
”
I said, helping her out.
“
Now you get off to bed.
”

I paid the driver and followed her up the steps and across the verandah.

Two dim figures sat in rocking chairs on the verandah. I saw them glance in my direction, but I thought nothing of it. I strolled across the lobby to the desk.

“
Good evening,
”
the clerk said, looking at Marian and then at me. His sallow face showed his disapproval.
“
Two gentlemen are waiting to see you.
”

“
Waiting to see me?
”
I repeated.