1956 - There's Always a Price Tag (15 page)

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Authors: James Hadley Chase

BOOK: 1956 - There's Always a Price Tag
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'Not yet. I'll tell her when I show her the kitchen tomorrow.'

'I'll be waiting for you.'

I half opened the door, listened, then hearing no sound I stepped out into the corridor and walked to the head of the stairs. As I began to descend them, Marian came out of the lounge. She looked up at me.

'Mrs. Dester has gone to bed.' I said. 'You going too?'

'Yes.'

I came down and stood beside her.

'You and Gibbons?'

She blushed a little and then smiled.

'Well, I don't think I'll read in bed.'

'I'll turn off the lights. Good night.'

She said good night and ran up the stairs. I turned slowly and watched her. She had lovely, slim legs, boyish hips and square shoulders. She didn't look back as she went along the corridor to her room. I was still standing there, seeing her in my mind, when I heard her door close.

I went into the lounge, took a bottle of Scotch from the rack behind the bar, turned off the lights and walked over to the apartment above the garage. Some kid, I was thinking. She and Gibbons. Some kid.

Around twelve-thirty, Helen came into my bedroom. I had changed into pyjamas and I was lying on the bed, smoking. She came to the foot of the bed.

'Now, tell me,' she said.

I looked at her. There are moments when a diamond can look a lot more exciting than a pearl. This was one of them.

'Come here,' I said and stretched out my hand.

She came around the side of the bed and sat down near me.

'Okay,' I said, 'now let me explain the setup to you. Between now and Sunday the rumour that Dester is once more in the money is going to strengthen. The columnists won't want to be left out in the cold. Even if they don't get any confirmation, they'll hint that Dester is after a big job. That's just the situation we want. No one knows where he is, but they have an idea he is back in the money again. If it doesn't work out that way, I'll have to fan the flames. There are two reasons why we must create the idea he is back in the money: one is to hold off his creditors and the other is that he is going to be kidnapped.'

She stiffened. 'Kidnapped?'

'That's right. No one would kidnap him unless he was back in the money, would they?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Relax: I'll explain it to you. We want to create the impression that Dester is still alive. We want it known when the showdown comes that Dester left this house on next Sunday night around ten o'clock in the evening with you to take a cure at the Belle View sanatorium. That's where Marian comes in: she's going to be our witness. She'll think she'll see Dester leave this house, but it won't be Dester, it'll be me, impersonating him. I'll wear that camel-hair coat and the big hat he has in his closet. We'll go into details later, but this is the plan. Marian must see me as I go out to the Rolls. We've got to fix it so she only sees my back. We drive down to the gates. You stop and I take off the hat and coat. You wait there while I rush back to the house, making out to Marian that I've arrived just too late to say good-bye to Dester. I'll talk to her for a few minutes, then I'll tell her I'm going back to my apartment. You'll have told her you'll be back soon after midnight, but she is not to wait up for you. I'll go over to my apartment, turn on the fights and the radio loud enough for her to hear from her bedroom. Then I'll leave the apartment and join you. We'll go to a place I've found. The idea we want the police and Maddux to get hold of is that while you are driving Dester to the sanatorium, two hoods hold up the car, take you both to this place, tie you up and then kidnap Dester.'

Helen stared at me.

'Tie me up - what do you mean?'

'What I say,' I said impatiently. 'How much plainer have I got to make this before the nickel drops? You can't expect to get your hands on three-quarters of a million and not work for it.'

'I still don't follow what you mean. Where is this place you're talking about?'

'Did you bring the map?'

She gave me the map and I found the forestry station and showed it to her.

'It's the ideal place,' I said. 'There's not a soul around on a Sunday. You can stay in one of the huts and you'll be found first thing on Monday morning. You'll spend an uncomfortable night, but so what?'

'But why should I?' she demanded, frowning at me.

'For the love of mike! We've got to create the impression that Dester has been kidnapped!' I exclaimed, raising my voice. 'Can't you get that into your thick skull? Look, there has been no major kidnapping in Hollywood for years. When the news breaks every cop will be on his toes. The heat will be on. Now just suppose he had really been kidnapped by two hoods. They find the cops closing in. What do they do? Turn Dester loose so he can give the police a description of them? No, they lose their heads. They kill him and dump him somewhere and vanish. This is the only angle I can figure to make his murder make sense. Otherwise the police will look for a motive, and you and I are the only two who have a motive. To make us safe, this has to be a motiveless murder, and kidnapping supplies the answer.'

She drew in a long, slow breath.

'I want to think about this. It sounds too complicated.'

'It isn't. It's going to work.'

'We could so easily make a mistake when it's this complicated.'

'We have the whole week to get the details lined up. If we're not happy about it at the end of the week, we'll drop it. We can do this job, step by step, watching every move, waiting to see how the cops react before we show our next card. Then if the cards fall right, we dump his body and collect the insurance money. It's going to work. I have a feeling about it.'

'I want to think about it.'

'Sure, think about it, but this is the plan. We can't lose too much time. Sooner or later, someone will really want to know where Dester is. We've got time, but not all the time in the world.'

She began to get to her feet.

'Where do you think you're going?' I asked, staring at her.

She stood up, her green eyes expressionless.

'Back to my room.'

I shook my head. 'Not just yet.'

I grabbed hold of her arm, but she broke my grip and moved out of reach.

'I'm not your chattel,' she said in a low, fierce voice. 'Keep your hands off me!'

She went out of the room and slammed the door.

Automatically I reached for the whisky bottle, then, as my hand closed around it, I realized what I was doing, I snatched my hand away. If there was one thing she wasn't going to do, she wasn't going to turn me into a rumdum like Dester.

 

 

chapter eight

 

O
n Monday afternoon, Edwin Burnett arrived. He was short, plump, suave and immaculate.

Helen handled him beautifully. From my vantage point at the head of the stairs I could hear the scarcely conquered tears in her voice as she told him how Dester was so much worse and was now having hallucinations.

Burnett seemed pretty shocked.

'You can't remain in the same house with him if he is like that. He should be in a home.'

That gave her her opening. She told him Dester had agreed to go to the Belle View sanatorium. He was so ashamed of himself he had begged her not to tell anyone that he was going. Then she got around to the rumour and his creditors.

I gave her full marks. She almost convinced me. Burnett agreed that there was no point in letting anyone know that Dester was going into the sanatorium. If they were fools enough to believe rumours then that was their lookout. But he went on to warn Helen that it was unlikely Dester would ever be in a position to pay his debts.

'It might be possible, to arrange some kind of settlement for you before the crash comes,' he went on. 'That is if you would be willing to divorce him. There should be a few thousand left, and I think I could get it for you.'

'I couldn't desert him, Edwin,' Helen said. 'It is now he really needs me. I know we haven't got on well together in the past. He has been so exasperating, but now that he is really down, I couldn't leave him.'

They went on like this for half an hour, then she brought the subject around to me. She told Burnett how I had saved Dester's life, how he had engaged me as his chauffeur and how I had looked after him.

'He really is useful, Edwin. In fact I don't know what I should do without him. Erle is violent sometimes and Nash is so good with him.'

She called me down and when I got into the lounge, Burnett looked me over. His steel grey eyes lost their expression of charm and compassion, and I saw only the eyes a criminal in the dock would see.

Helen introduced us and I was pretty deferential. We talked of this and that for a few moments, then Helen did a nothing-up-my-sleeve, nothing-in-my-hand act when she said, 'Mr. Nash sleeps in the apartment over the garage. I have Marian with me in the house. If I hear Erle in the night, I phone across to Mr. Nash. I can't tell you how thankful I am that he is looking after Erle, but he can't go on having interrupted nights. It's time Erle went to the sanatorium.'

'I don't mind,' I said. 'I like him. We get on all right.'

'Well, is there anything I can do? Would you like me to go up and talk to him?' Burnett asked, after sneaking a quick look at his watch.

'I don't think he feels like seeing anyone,' Helen said. 'I am taking him to the Belle View next Sunday. I'm hoping when he comes out, he'll be all right again. I can't believe he won't ever make any more pictures. I've suggested we go to New York. He might start again there.'

Burnett shrugged. 'Don't rely on it, Helen. I think you'd be a lot wiser to divorce him. He's always going to be in trouble from now on.'

'You know about his affairs better than I do,' she said as I moved away so as to let them talk. 'Is there really some money left, Edwin?'

'Not much I'm afraid; a few thousands, but once his creditors move in, there won't be anything left. He'll have to sell up. Have you any idea how much he owes?'

'Mr. Nash probably knows.' She turned to me. 'You can tell Mr. Burnett how much he owes, can't you?'

'I haven't got exact figures,' I said, '’but it must be something like twenty-five thousand.'

Burnett shrugged.

'Well, if he can't pay, he'll have to go bankrupt. This isn't going to be nice for you, Helen.'

Then she said something that turned me as cold as a splinter of ice. She said, 'He's not insured, I suppose? Nothing he could borrow money on?'

'There's a life policy I believe,' Burnett returned. 'I know he mentioned taking one out soon after he married you, but he didn't tell me what it is worth. Of course, if it is for a substantial amount he could borrow on it.'

'Well, that's something.' She smiled. 'I'll have to talk to him about it. Better to borrow on it than go bankrupt.'

'I don't know.' Burnett scratched the end of his fat nose. 'After all, at the rate he is going, Helen, he won't last very long. I don't want to distress you, but drinking the way he does could finish him off quicker than you think. The money would then come to you. If he borrows on the policy there won't be much left when he dies and you've got to think of yourself.'

'Oh, no. I can always look after myself.' She lifted her head proudly. It was a good act and I saw now why she had dragged in the policy. 'I would much rather him borrow the money on the policy than for him to go bankrupt.'

Burnett looked approvingly at her.

'It does you credit, Helen. Damn it! It really does. Well, it may not come to that. Let me know how he gets on and if I can do anything. You have only to call me.'

He shook hands cordially enough with me, and then Helen saw him to the door. They stood talking for a few moments, then he got into his chauffeur-driven car and was driven off.

She came back and we looked at each other.

'Pretty smart: the ever-loving, ever-sacrificing wife,' I said. 'For a moment you gave me a heart attack when you mentioned the policy.'

She lifted her shoulders. 'It was the way to do it.'

'Yes. Well, that's the first hurdle taken care of. He's on our side now and we'll need him. Where's Marian?'

'In the garden.'

'Okay. I'll get back to the garage. We don't want to be alone together.'

Her full red lips twisted into a sneer.

'She's weeding the rose bed,' she said. 'You don't fool me. I've seen the way you've been looking at her. Can't you leave any woman alone?'

I felt the blood mount to my face. I had to hold on to myself or I would have crossed the room and slapped her.

'It's your rotten mind,' I said angrily. 'I don't go for kids like her.'

'Tell that to the marines,' she said, and moving past me, she went up the stairs.

I walked into the garden to cool off. I had no wrong feelings about Marian. Okay, the kid interested me. I liked to watch her. She was young and graceful and quick and pretty. I liked to talk to her too. She had more in her head than any other girl I had ever met. There hadn't been much to do in the house that morning and we had had time to talk. The kid just interested me. Helen's rotten insinuation made me feel sick.

 

* * *

 

The next day, some of the newspapers carried stories about Dester, hinting that he was moving into television. One columnist, who had obviously been talking to Hammerstock, said Dester would soon be among the highest-paid producers in television. And that was just the story I wanted to see printed.

I was so elated I took the paper over to the house with the intention of showing it to Helen, but she was in her bath so I wandered down the long passage into the kitchen where Marian was sitting on a stool at the kitchen table, cleaning the silver.

She looked cute in a blue-and-white overall, and she glanced up as I came in and gave me a smile.

I've had a lot of experience with women, and that smile made my heart skip a beat. It wasn't a come-on smile: nothing like that, but there was a hint of shyness in it I hadn't seen before that told me I interested her as much as she interested me, and to my surprise I got a bang out of it.

'Hello there,' I said, sitting on the edge of the table. 'Let me give you a hand. I'm good at silver.'

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