1977 - My Laugh Comes Last (8 page)

Feeling cold and sick, I made her another whisky.

'That's how it was, Larry,' she said, and drank. 'Klaus has told you about his plan to break into the Sharnville bank?'

'He's told me.'

'He's a devil. Make no mistake about that. He found out you and Brannigan played golf together. He sent Joe to put water in Brannigan's gas tank so you and I could meet. His idea was for me to come to Sharnville with his phony reporting setup. He thought I could persuade you to tell me about the security of the bank.' She ran her fingers through her red hair. 'If only you had, Larry! Alex could be alive now.'

'He should have known,' I said.

She lifted her hands in despair.

'It was a long shot which didn't work. Then he told me he would blackmail you into giving him the information, and he told me what I had to do. With the threat of another beating, I hadn't the guts to refuse. I thought they would just take photographs of us making love, and that would be enough. I swear I had no idea that Alex would be involved, and they would murder him.' She looked directly at me.

‘You must hate me for what I have done to you, but if you had been beaten as I have, maybe you would understand.'

'Of course I don't hate you! I could never do that,' I said.

‘This is something we have to work out together. You are the one woman who has ever meant anything to me.' I took her hands in mine. 'I have seven days to say either yes or no. This has dropped on me like an avalanche. My mind isn't working properly, but let us look at the situation we are both faced with. Klaus plans to rob the bank, using me to tell him how to do it. He has enough evidence against me to send me to jail for life. That is his ace card, but I also have an ace card. I could go to Brannigan, and tell him the whole story. He is, as Klaus has said, a righteous man, but he wouldn't stand for blackmail. I'm sure of that. He knows Klaus is a liar and a thief. He could use his power to nail Klaus, and get me off the hook. I would be finished in Sharnville, but at least, I wouldn't go to jail. We two could go somewhere, and I could begin again. As I see it right now, I must talk to Brannigan.'

Glenda closed her eyes and shivered.

'Have you forgotten you are dealing with a devil, Larry? A devil who didn't hesitate to kill Alex so he could blackmail you? We two won't go away together. How I wish it was as easy as that.' She paused, then went on, 'If you don't do what he wants, he is going to have me murdered as he had Alex murdered.'

I stared at her, not believing what I had heard.

‘Murdered? What do you mean?'

‘Klaus has already anticipated that you would go to Brannigan. Why do you think I am here, Larry? Why do you think he has allowed me to see you again? He told me to spell out the message. He will have me murdered so it will look as if you killed me as he made it look as if you killed Alex.'

Again, I felt as if a Siberian wind was blowing over me.

I was once again a mouse darting here and there to avoid the cat's claws.

'If we are going to escape from this trap, Larry,' Glenda went on, 'you must tell Klaus how to break into the bank, but this is up to you.' She got up and began to move around the room. 'He is a devil! I'm so frightened! I don't want to die, Larry! I want to share my life with you. I don't give a damn if we have no money . . . just so long as we are together. Do you really care if this bank is robbed? Every day banks are being robbed, and who cares? You have only to tell him how to do it, and we are free!'

I hesitated, staring at her.

'But, Glenda, I made it safe! You must understand! If Klaus breaks into that bank, everything I have worked for, my position in Sharnville, the years and years of grinding study goes into a puddle of mud.'

She put her hands to her eyes.

'All right, Larry. Yes, I understand, then my life takes second place.'

As if on cue, the front door burst open, and Benny and Joe came in. Joe caught hold of Glenda and jerked her to the open door. Benny moved up to me and gave me a shove with his open hand, sending me reeling.

'Okay, fink,' he said. 'You now know the photo. The next time you see this babe, she'll be a bloody mess unless you do what you're told,' and they left, hustling Glenda between them, and the door slammed behind them.

Unsteadily, I went to the window and watched them push Glenda into the Chevy, then watched them drive away.

I sat down. It was still a nightmare, and I longed for the moment when I woke up to find this hadn't happened: that this was only a terrifying dream.

The church clock struck eleven. Jebson's TV set suddenly snapped off. There was silence, except for the distant roar of the traffic and sitting still, I had to face the fact that this was no nightmare.

I heard Glenda's voice, shaking with panic: Do you really care if the bank is robbed?

I thought of Farrell Brannigan, and what he had done for me. I remembered what Dixon had said. Brannigan had no mercy for anyone who stepped out of turn. He was a righteous man. He would have no mercy for me if I went to him and told him this blackmail story. My immediate reaction had been to go to him, but now, thinking about it, I realized he would treat me as he had treated Klaus forty years ago.

It was hard for me to believe that Klaus would have Glenda murdered, but, I told myself, he had ruthlessly arranged her husband's murder. His threat could become a reality, and this was unthinkable.

You have only to tell him how to do it, and we're free!

I could submit to Klaus's blackmail and tell him how to break into the bank. I considered this. Only Brannigan, Manson and I knew of the soft underbelly of the bank's security. If Klaus succeeded in robbing the bank, Brannigan, Manson and I would come under the police searchlight Brannigan would be immediately discounted. The searchlight would then concentrate on Manson and myself. Brannigan would never have chosen Manson to manage the safest bank in the world unless he was sure Manson was above reproach. The police would probe into Manson's background. They would find, as I knew, he lived simply, and he was a dedicated banker, so the searchlight would concentrate on me. I was the one who had made the bank safe. I knew far better than Manson how the electronic gimmicks worked. These gimmicks were so safe, no thief could get into the bank without inside information. This information was held by Brannigan, Manson and myself.

When they had discounted Brannigan and Manson, they would select me as suspect No. 1.

I was being threatened by Klaus with a life sentence for murdering Marsh. According to Glenda, he would have her murdered, and make it seem I was her killer if I didn't cooperate with him. Yet if I did, and I broke down under police interrogation, I could still face a long jail sentence.

There must be a way out of this trap!

I had seven days.

In seven days, I had to come up with a solution to save myself!

Another Monday!

My desk was piled with work. The telephone bell constantly rang. Bill Dixon, calling from 'Frisco, came through with the final details of our new building.

'This is going to be a big one, Larry,’ he said excitedly. ‘They have approved the extra extension. We have really got to get off the pad.'

I listened, made notes, assured him I could handle my end of it and hung up. The pressure was such I couldn't even think of Klaus, but he was at the back of my mind, pushed into my subconscious, but ready to appear the moment I could pause to think.

Mary Oldham, my secretary, a plump, middle-aged woman who was efficiency itself, looked around my door.

'Sheriff Thomson, Mr. Lucas, asking for you.'

I stiffened, my heart skipping a beat as Thomson stalked into my office.

'Hi, citizen,' he said. 'Police business. You're busy. I'm busy, but police business is more than busy.'

'Okay, Joe, make it fast. What is it?'

The telephone bell rang, and I picked up the receiver. It was the builder's contractor. We talked costs for a couple of minutes, then I told him to talk to Bill Dixon, and hung up, 'What is it, Joe?' I asked impatiently.

'Glenda Marsh,' Thomson said. 'She's quit town. She's a phony.'

'What does that mean, and what has that to do with me?'

I forced myself to meet his probing eyes.

'This woman came here to do a reportage for The Investor . . . right?'

'So she told me,' I said.

‘Yeah. So she told me. She poked around, took photographs, had a date with me to photograph the jail, then didn't show, and has left town.' He took out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and lit up. 'The Investor is an important paper. So I asked myself why this woman should suddenly quit town. I contacted The Investor, and they tell me they don't know her and they don't employ freelance photographers. What do you make of that?'

I had to play this cool, and with an effort, I shrugged, waving my hand impatiently.

'Look, Joe, I'm up to my eyes in work. For all I know, and frankly, I don't give a damn, she was an opportunist. Lots of freelance journalists do the same thing - claiming they work for an important magazine to get interviews. Then they write up articles and try to sell them. It happens all the time.'

Thomson leaned forward to tap off his ash into my ash bowl.

‘Yeah, could be.' He sucked at his cigarette, then went on, 'I am the Sheriff of Sharnville. It is my job to protect this town. Sharnville has the safest bank in the world, and lots of wealthy citizens. It's my job to watch over them, and the bank. That's what I get paid for. When a woman like Marsh arrives on the scene, takes photographs, chats up our more wealthy citizens who, thinking she is representing The Investor, talk their fat heads off, because getting coverage in a magazine of that standing is a status symbol, and then when I find out she is a phony, I start looking for trouble. I've talked to a number of our wealthy citizens, and learn they have been boasting to this woman about the money they stash away in the Californian National Bank.' He made a grimace. 'When you get a guy making big money, get him to drink a few martinis, let a pretty woman soft-talk him, he runs at the mouth.' His little cop eyes were like granite.

‘When she talked to you, did she ask you anything about the security of our bank?'

Keeping my face expressionless, I said, 'No, but she did ask me to give her an introduction to Manson, which I did.'

'I know that. I've already talked to Manson.' He kept staring at me. 'So she didn't ask you about the security of the bank? You know more about the security setup than Manson does, don't you?'

‘You can say that.' Then the telephone bell rang This gave me time to get my second wind. It was Bill Dixon asking about a computer I had ordered. I spent longer than necessary telling him the exact measurements and where the electric feed should be.

Thomson continued to sit, staring at me, but by the time I had finished talking to Bill I had steadied down.

‘Look, Joe, you can see I'm working under pressure,' I said. 'Mrs. Marsh didn't ask about the security of the bank. Is that all you want to know?'

'Just how safe is the security of the bank?' He showed no sign of going.

'As safe as could be.'

'Now, suppose a smart bunch of thieves decided to break into the bank. Do you think they could do it?'

This was now moving on to very thin ice. I must not commit myself. Klaus could force me to tell him how to make a breakin.

'I would have thought their chances would be a hundred to one against,' I said.

'Is that right?' Thomson dropped more ash into my ash bowl. 'Manson says they wouldn't stand a ghost of a chance. He says the security of the bank is more than a hundred per cent.'

"You're making this difficult for me, Joe,' I said. ‘ Just how much did Manson tell you about the electronic safety controls I have installed in the bank?'

'Not a thing. He said he was satisfied no one could break in, and that's all he told me.'

'He is right to a point, but there is always some freak chance we haven't thought of.'

‘Listen to me, citizen. I was elected sheriff of Sharnville three years ago. The crime rate of this town, because I am always looking ahead, run out undesirables, and have a smart lot of men, is the lowest in the state, and I intend to keep it that way. This Marsh woman bothers me. She could be a front for a gang with eyes on our bank. I don't say she is, but she could be, and it is my business to check on people like her. She tried pretty hard to get information from Manson about the security of the bank, but failed, but that doesn't mean the gang - if there is a gang - will give up. Just suppose there is an attack on the bank, I wouldn't get elected sheriff for my next term, and that would hit me where I live. Understand?'

'I think you can relax, Joe,' I said. 'I understand your position and your responsibility, but the bank is as safe as it can be.'

'That's what Manson said, but you said a hundred to one against. What's the one?'

'I don't know, but there is always some bright boy who could dream up a bright idea,' I said. 'The unexpected has always to be taken into consideration.'

He stubbed out his cigarette and lit another.

'That's right. Now, Manson and you are the only two in this town who know how the security works... right?'

My secretary looked in.

'Mr. Harriman is waiting, Mr. Lucas.'

'Just a few minutes,' I said, then looking at Thomson, I went on, 'Mr. Brannigan also knows.'

'Suppose a smart gang kidnapped you or Manson or both of you and put you under pressure? It happens. Could they bust into the bank once he or you talked?'

‘No.'

He stared thoughtfully at me.

'Even if they really gave you the works?'

‘We might be forced to tell them how the gimmicks worked, but they still wouldn't have the expertise to make them work.'

'And yet you said some bright boy might dream up a bright idea. What did you mean by that?'

I became aware that a trickle of sweat was running down my face.

'There is always a remote chance that someone with top-class electronic expertise just might be able to unscramble my gimmicks, but it is very, very unlikely.'