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Authors: Stuart Brock

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“I’m not going to try to kill you,” Cain said. “But if you live through this you’ll wish they had destroyed you at birth, as your kind should be destroyed.” He hit Rhumba in the face.

Rhumba put up his hands, the one dangling limply. Cain hit him again. He kept hitting even after the man fell. Letting Rhumba lie, Cain headed the boat back to Munger’s. When he docked it was nearly three o’clock and daylight was beginning to crawl over the eastern mountains.

Cain dragged Rhumba beyond the tideline, found a flare in one of the lockers, set it alight, and got back in the boat. If they found Rhumba soon enough they might get him to a hospital. Cain didn’t care one way or the other.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

ALL
the fire had gone out of Cain, leaving him exhausted. He idled the boat, heading for Paula’s again. He watched the shore as he drifted past, noticing the trees spring slowly into defined shape out of the darkness. He saw a light. He bent forward and looked again. It was his place, all right. He swung the boat in that direction and picked up speed.

He saw his boat riding with a light coming from the cabin port. Carefully he drew into the dock. He was about ready to step from the boat when a man came from his boat toward him. In a moment, Cain saw that it was Munger.

He apparently recognized his own boat. He called, “What are you doing here? Did you get it set up?” His voice was edgy, Cain noticed.

Cain picked up Rhumba’s knife and gun as he stepped onto the dock. Munger was close enough to recognize him. He let Munger look at the gun and Munger’s hands, slowly dipping for his coat pocket, lifted.

Cain saw Munger’s car. “Call out your gorillas, Munger.”

“I came alone,” Munger said. And the way he said it made Cain believe him. It was one of the few times Munger had felt safe enough to come alone, and one of the times he should not have. The thought gave Cain a lot of pleasure.

“Who’s in my cabin?”

“Honor Ryerson.”

Cain could see naked fear on Munger’s face and he was disappointed. For though Munger was a cut above his gunsels, he was just as rotten inside. “Honor!” Cain called.

Munger licked his lips. “She’s passed out.”

Cain took a deep breath and the gun shook a little. “What did you do to her?”

“She got drunk in my place. I brought her home. That’s all.”

“So now I’m supposed to thank you and let you go home?”

“We’re square, Munger said. “If you got away from Rhumba, we’re square, Cain.”

Cain laughed at his pathetic eagerness. “Turn around and head for the cabin. If you try anything I’ll shoot for your spine. I can shoot, you know, Munger.”

Munger went ahead, slowly, ducking inside first. Inside, Cain put Munger against the door of the head. “Belt off! One hand only, Munger.”

Munger’s belt came off and fell to the floor. His hand went up and his trousers slid reluctantly over his hips and puddled on the floor. He wore mauve silk shorts. Cain darted a quick look at the bunk.

Honor was unconscious all right. She lay on her back, her eyes closed. Her arms were tied above her head, held by a rope into a painful, helpless position. She was naked to the waist and Cain could see the cigarette burns lined along her flat, smooth belly and up to the swell of her breast. One burn lay in the deep hollow between them. He slashed apart the rope that held her hands up in the air.

“That as far as you got when I came?” Cain asked softly.

Munger said tonelessly, “She killed Smoky.”

“Who would revenge a slimy worm like that? What were you after?” Cain walked over and hit him in the stomach so that he gagged and bent over. Cain slapped his face, straightening him.

Munger gasped. “Information. How much you knew. How much she got out of Smoky before she killed him.”

“Well?”

“All I got was she killed Smoky. That’s all!” His voice rose and broke as he stared at Cain’s implacable features.

Cain said, “You were afraid of something, Munger. What was it?” Munger only stood there, his hands high, his face an ugly white. Cain went on, “And I think you took a speedboat out as soon as the boys got me off the place. Why?” He was talking half to himself. He nodded suddenly.

“You cooked your little love-nest killing plan up when I came into your place. It was grabbing at an opportunity. Right, Munger?”

Munger said, “Yes.” His voice was empty.

Cain said, “And then you had to go get Paula and Lisa. You had set it up for Lisa to lead Paula into a trap on the farm but now you wanted her on Whidby.”

“Yes,” Munger said.

“So you went after her and gave Lisa instructions to take her there. Only Lisa didn’t know she was supposed to get killed too by your handyman. Right, Munger?”

“Yes,” Munger said.

Cain was improvising, using what facts he knew plus what he knew of the way Munger’s mind worked. He went on, “You went back to your place to await developments. But they didn’t come. No one came. You got edgy and went out and found Smoky. Maybe you even saw Honor driving off. You tailed her here. You were scared, Munger, because something had gone haywire.”

“Yes,” Munger said.

“Were you afraid it had backfired? Afraid Paula hadn’t been killed and that she would tell the truth about the way Toby died?”

“No,” Munger said.

“Or that Lisa might tell?” He saw the flicker on Munger’s face and took it for agreement. “You’ve already killed Paula then?”

No answer. Cain nodded. “It happened at the party the way you said, didn’t it, Munger? Except that you killed Toby when you saw a chance to make Paula the goat. Did you cook it up with her to go there and get the blackmail stuff?”

“Yes,” Munger said.

“You did the killing and she did the rest of the dirty work.”

Munger’s silence was answer enough. Cain said, “Then you tried to cross one another. She hid the stuff in the steamer trunks and you took it without her knowing it.”

“Yes,” Munger said. His voice was faint.

“That made you top man, didn’t it, Munger? That made you the big shot instead of just front man. You craved that and you had it. You weren’t going to let go of it. Only you had to get rid of Paula to be sure. But she was cagy and hid out on you.”

“She thought she could get the stuff back, that it was still in the trunks,” Munger said. His throat sounded dry. Cain didn’t understand what he was getting at until he added, “Tonight I told her I had it. I was willing to make a deal, Cain. She wouldn’t let me. She was half drunk. She was wild.”

Cain realized Munger was trying to explain himself. He was appealing to Cain for mercy. Cain said, “You couldn’t let her live, Munger. Then you wouldn’t be sure you’d stay top dog. You’ve been waiting for this for a long time, haven’t you? You talked Paula into marrying Toby as a way to crossing him out of his share in your place. And you talked Toby into it as a way to crossing Paula. Then when you had the chance, you killed him. Now you’ve killed her. You tried to get me salted away by having Lisa take me to the farm a second time. Only it didn’t work. Wilson was suspicious but not enough to haul me in. Then I played right into your hands. First, by telling Lisa to take a message to Paula. That led Paula right to her death. I was just trying to find out if Paula had been the one I wrestled with at the farm. Then I walked into your place — and you had it all ready to sew up.”

“Yes,” Munger said.

Cain said, “Only something’s gone haywire.” He lifted the gun a little. “Let’s take a ride, Munger. Let’s go to the farm and see what happened, shall we?”

“Listen, Cain …”

Cain took a brief instant to glance at Honor. She was still out but her breathing sounded fairly good. He turned his full attention back to Munger. “What else did you do besides use her belly for an ashtray?”

“Nothing. I swear, Cain. Nothing!”

Cain said, “No, you wouldn’t. Not to a woman.”

He saw that his knowledge of it was news to Munger. And what masculinity that was left in the man crumpled away and there was nothing there, nothing at all.

“I beat Rhumba almost to death,” Cain said conversationally. “Honor killed Smoky. Good for our side!” His voice shifted. “Up the steps. Left hand on your trousers. Right hand high. Move!”

Munger went. He walked slowly now, and old man, a pasty-faced man whose entrails crawled with fear. He walked along the dock at Cain’s direction and stepped aboard his own cruiser, moving awkwardly.

Cain was a little careless. Munger appeared completely handicapped, but suddenly he ducked into the cabin and threw himself sideways, out of the line of Cain’s gun.

Cain swore and jumped to the right, trying to see Munger around the door frame. Munger was on his knees and straightening up. Cain could see the little hand gun that he had evidently hidden in his coat pocket. It was tiny. It would have been laughable except that the range was so close. Cain heard it go off, its crack a thin sound above Munger’s hoarse, desperate breathing.

Cain moved and he felt the scrape of the bullet. And then the gun in his hand made its ugly sound and he saw Munger’s look of sudden surprise. Munger’s second shot was reflex and it plowed into the ceiling of the cabin as Munger went backward off balance and fell sideways and lay silently with a round O making a neat eye above the bridge of his nose.

“Damn it,” Cain said. “I didn’t intend to kill you.” Munger was to have been exhibit A for Wilson. Now, Cain knew, Wilson wasn’t going to like this at all.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MUNGER’S
coat yielded more than just a special pocket for his little gun. Cain came up with a thick envelope. One glance told him that here was the blackmail material. He wondered at a man who would do what Munger had apparently done with it. He had probably carried it to taunt Paula with before he killed her.

Cain ignored the material on Smathers and the others. Information on Paula was there and it was ugly. It disgusted him and he pushed it aside. He found what he sought pertaining to Lisa Simms and Karl Munger, né Simms. He read it slowly and carefully and then he folded everything into the envelope, found a wrench, and tied the envelope securely to it.

He headed the cruiser for the farm. In the middle of the channel, he dropped the wrench and the envelope overboard. Munger bobbed grotesquely to the motion of the boat as Cain went at full speed. It was full daylight when he arrived and he saw the person standing on the dock. Honor’s runabout bobbed there as he had hoped.

He felt a little sick again as he cut the motor and swung skillfully to the dock. Lisa stood there and she hopped aboard as soon as she recognized him. She stopped in the doorway and looked down at Munger’s body and then at Cain and at the gun in his hand.

“Karl?” she said, and the way she said it told Cain the answer to a lot of things.

“All right,” he said. “It’s all over. I killed your husband, Lisa. You’re free, if that’s the word.”

“That’s the word,” Lisa said. Her voice shook. “Cain …”

“Tell it,” he said harshly. “You stuck with him right up to the last. Why didn’t you go to Whidby like he ordered?”

“He never killed before,” Lisa said. “Not until Toby. Not Karl himself, personally. And when I saw him kill her and when he told me how he had it planned for you, I — I couldn’t go through with it.”

“What were you doing here?”

“Waiting,” she said, “to make up my mind what to do. I think in another hour I would have gone to Wilson.”

“Tell it,” Cain said, “from the beginning.”

She said rapidly, “I met Karl when he worked for a smalltime carnival. When we got married, he started the costume shop. Then he met Toby. Toby was on his way up and he saw Karl as a front for his enterprises. And Toby knew what Karl didn’t even know about himself. I married a body, kid fashion, and after Toby met Karl, I didn’t have even that.”

“But you stayed around.”

“Yes. I tried to kill Toby. The evidence is in the blackmail stuff.”

Cain said scornfully, “And hating Toby, you hung around him, worked for him, lived next door to him. You had all the opportunity in the world to get something on him, even the score. But you didn’t. Because all the time you were still working for Munger.”

“Yes,” Lisa said. “Don’t you see? He wanted to be big, free of Toby. He was waiting for the chance and I was helping him. Even after he killed Toby, I helped him. I wasn’t sure, Cain, until I saw him kill Paula. And then — then I couldn’t go along.”

Cain said, “Sure, he was your husband even if you did have to sleep with other guys to have any love life.”

He saw the sadness in her and he knew that whatever compulsion had kept her close to Munger, it was bigger than she. He said now, more softly, “You almost suckered me, Lisa. Even after you admitted you were working for Toby, it wasn’t too bad. But when I talked to Munger last night, I discovered he knew an awful lot — stuff that only you and Honor and I knew. That tipped me off. The information in the blackmail documents finished it.”

There was nothing more to say. Lisa turned and went out of the cabin. Cain followed her. He smoked a cigarette, watching her stare moodily at the water. He said finally, “Where is Paula?”

“Still in the runabout. I was supposed to deliver her to the island for the — the double killing.”

“Triple killing,” Cain corrected. “He was going to include you. He was through with you, had no more use for you.”

“Down inside I think I knew it,” she said.

Cain left her and went to the runabout. He found Paula Ryerson there. She was not pretty in death. He had to force himself to lift her, carry her to the cruiser. He laid her alongside Munger. Then he went to Lisa again.

“Take the runabout,” he said. “Get your baggage from Ryerson’s and then go to my place. Munger’s car is there. I suppose it’s yours now. Take it and go — and keep going.”

“Cain!”

He walked into the cabin of the cruiser and started the motor. Lisa jumped to the dock and he backed away, swung around, and gunned for open water.

He was in the cabin of his own boat when he heard the runabout arrive, heard Lisa’s footsteps, and then caught the sound of Munger’s car as it pulled out of the driveway. He turned his attention back to Honor still unconscious on the bunk.

When he had greased her burns and covered her with a soft sheet, he left her and returned to the dock. There he set the controls of Munger’s cruiser, kicked the throttle over, and jumped free. He stood and watched the sleek boat head into the Sound, a floating coffin for Munger and Paula Ryerson.

He was in the cabin looking for a blanket when Honor moaned. Cain went to her. Her eyes opened wide and he saw the stark and naked fear in them. He said as gently as he might to a small child, “It’s Cain, honey.”

The fear receded, disappeared. Her lips parted and she whispered faintly, “I should have known they couldn’t get you, Cain. Kiss me, please.”

He laid his lips on hers. There was a brief response and then none. She was asleep, her breathing normal, her relaxation obvious. Cain took a blanket, stripped off his bloodstained tuxedo, and went on deck to sleep.

He kept turning, finding the deck harder than he had ever remembered it. He got up and lit a cigarette and lay down again. He said aloud, “Hell, I’m too keyed up to sleep.” He finished his cigarette and flipped it over the rail.

“A mountain in Arizona wouldn’t be too bad in the winter time,” Cain said. He went to sleep with a smile on his lips.

When he awoke the sun had reached its height and was striking straight down against his face. Yawning, he threw back the blanket and blinked at the sunlight. When he stretched, he felt a sharp pain and remembered that Munger’s little bullet had burned his side. That brought back a crowd of memories and he rose quickly.

Blanket in hand, he tumbled down to the cabin. The bunk was smoothed over and empty. He grabbed his swimming trunks and slipped into them and went back on deck. He noticed that the runabout was gone, too, and he felt a stab of fear run through him. Thn he realized that it was all over now, that Honor had no one to fear any more except herself.

He took a quick swim and went below to dress. He heard the boat arrive while he was shaving and when he went on deck again, he could smell the mingled aromas of coffee and frying bacon. He stuck his head into the galley and there was Honor. She wore dungarees and a man’s shirt not tucked in. She looked perfectly normal.

“The resiliency of youth,” he said wonderingly.

She turned an impish face toward him. “Hi, killer. Breakfast is coming up.”

“Don’t be so damned cheerful,” he said. “Killing isn’t fun.”

Honor ignored him, choosing to be flippant until they finished eating and were on their coffee and cigarettes. Then she said seriously, “I know killing isn’t fun, Cain. Even now when I think of it, I get scared.”

“Bury it,” Cain advised her. “It’ll get easier. You’ll probably have to tell Wilson, but after that bury it.”

“Aye, Captain.” She rose abruptly and ducked down into the cabin. When she returned, she had a wad of bills in her hand. She tossed them at Cain. “Compliments of Munger,” she said. “I won it with my system.”

Cain handed the money back. “You won because Munger gave orders for you to win. He was setting you up for the future.” He hated to destroy her pleasure at her own ingenuity but he also hated to think of her getting bitten by the gambling bug. He explained how the system worked. Then, quietly, he told her what had happened after he left her at Munger’s.

“I know,” she said when he was done. “It was on the radio this morning. Your friend Rhumba is in the hospital and they’ve found Munger and — and Paula.”

“I’m sorry,” was all Cain could say.

“I’m not,” Honor said. “It’s better. I tried not to think it of her, Cain, but after Toby was killed I began to put two and two together. I knew about her fight with Daddy, you see. And she hated me because she had all of Daddy’s hatred and I had all his love.”

“You mean she planted that bomb on your runabout?” Cain shook his head and to make it easier on her, he lied smoothly, “Don’t forget she and Munger were working together, even if they were trying to cross one another. His boys made the plant, Honor. They were trying to get me as much as anything.”

He didn’t know if she believed him or not but it was a story she could turn to, he thought, when thinking about her sister got too bad deep inside. He said now, “Wilson will be along soon. And it won’t be easy.”

She smiled at him. “Easier than Munger, Cain.”

• • •

Wilson sat on a folding chair with his feet on the rail and drank Honor Ryerson’s best brewed coffee. Bergen kept his feet planted prosaically on the deck and tried to figure a way to balance a cup of coffee, a cigar, a pencil, and a notebook all on two knees. Honor finally brought him a wooden crate for an end table. Then she retired to her spot on the rail next to where Cain’s feet were propped. Wilson got down to business. “Some people were killed last night.”

“I heard,” Cain said.

“You two were at Munger’s last night?”

“It was my birthday,” Honor said. “Cain took me as a present.”

“That’s nice,” Wilson murmured. “She’s still only twenty, Cain.”

Cain was smoking his pipe. He studied it a moment. “Legally, Munger can’t operate. Therefore his place doesn’t exist before the law. So how could I break any laws taking Honor to a place that isn’t?”

“Yeh,” Wilson said. “It isn’t in my jurisdiction anyway. You and your syllogisms.” He drank more coffee. “That’s neither here nor there at the moment. I want to know what you did there.”

“I went for a boatride,” Cain said. “I spent most of my evening on the Sound. On Munger’s invitation, of course. I spent it with a fellow named Rhumba. I hear he’s not well.”

“You wouldn’t have any idea how he got in that condition?” Wilson asked mildly.

“I did it to him,” Cain said. “He had me roped and on the floor and he decided to kick my face in. I won.”

Wilson waited patiently while Bergen scribbled. Cain told the story briefly of Munger’s idea to make a “love-nest” killing.

Wilson nodded. “Did Smoky do something to you, too?”

Honor said, “I did that, Mr. Wilson.” She reached into her dungaree pocket and brought out the little .25. “With this.”

He took it gingerly. “You shot Smoky with this?”

Honor said, “I must have. I put it to his eye and pulled the trigger and he died. Shouldn’t I have?”

Cain clamped his jaw hard on his pipestem. Wilson just said gently, “It’s not customary to go around shooting people, Miss Ryerson. Not even people like Smoky.”

“He broke the front of my evening gown,” she said.

“And why did he do that?”

Honor told him. She related the evening in detail with a vivid anatomical description. Wilson turned a bright pink. “In other words you killed him in self-defense.”

“Of my virtue,” she said primly.

Wilson let it go. He turned to Cain. Cain said, “Smoky was hopped up. She was trying to find out what had happened to me. He got suspicious and tried to kill her. It was self-defense.”

“I’ll buy it,” Wilson said wearily. “That leaves three to go. Munger, Paula Ryerson, and Patton.”

“Munger killed them both,” Cain said. He saw that despite his resigned attitude, Wilson was getting edgy, and he decided Honor’s horseplay had gone far enough. He told it now in concise detail.

When he was through, Wilson said, “We had most of it. And we got some more from Lisa Simms. We found her today stuffing Munger’s money into a bag.”

“It’s hers,” Cain said. “And she’s clear as far as I can see.”

“If she isn’t,” Wilson said, “you’ll probably see that she gets that way. We won’t hold her any longer than necessary.” He drained his cup and accepted more from the pot Honor hurriedly brought. “So it’s all wrapped up in a neat package for the county boys. Okay, Cain, but they’ll want the answer to this question, too. Who killed Munger?”

“I did,” Cain said quietly.

Wilson looked as if he might cry. “Self-defense, I suppose?”

Cain showed him the bullet burn on his side. Honor jumped up immediately and lifted her shirt, exposing her stomach to Wilson’s startled gaze. Cain jerked her shirt down hurriedly. Then, briefly, he described what had happened. Wilson listened in silence.

“The avenging sword of Cain,” he murmured finally. “Some day you’ll kill one too many, Cain.”

“I didn’t do it for pleasure,” Cain said.

“Why did you turn them loose in the Sound?”

“I didn’t want Honor to wake up and find her sister’s body,” Cain told him. “I didn’t want Munger cluttering up my share of the Sound.”

“Or maybe you didn’t want to be implicated,” Wilson said dryly. “This place would have been swarming with County boys if you’d left the boat here.”

“I like my privacy,” Cain agreed. His voice was pointed.

Wilson got up. Bergen joined him. Wilson said, “Ten
a.m.
tomorrow, Cain, to sign a statement. Thanks for the coffee and the information.”

Honor watched until their car had bumped out of sight. Then she said, “Doesn’t he believe us, Cain?”

“It’s a wonder,” Cain said. “What were you trying to do to him?”

Honor giggled. “I did confuse him, didn’t I?”

Cain said, “Yes,” and walked to the rail. Honor followed. She had lost her bright look. Her face was serious.

“We have the money I made gambling, Cain. That will keep us for quite a while, won’t it?”

Cain was silent. Honor said, “Now Daddy can afford to buy me a little mountain and maybe even a telescope.”

Cain looked hard at the water. Honor touched him lightly. “Cain, this morning you kissed me and called me ‘honey.’ ”

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