Come Easy, Go Easy (11 page)

"But he loves you. Did you marry him only for what you could steal from him?"

"Oh, shut up! How long will it take you to open the safe?"

"I don't know. Maybe I won't be able to open it. Those safes are tough. Without the combination, it's practically impossible open them."

"You'd better open this one, Carson!"

I was talking to gain time. She had me over a barrel. There wasn't a Lawrence safe made that I couldn't open. But I hated the thought of Jenson losing his money. I hated the thought, too, that for the rest of his days he would believe I had taken it. He was my friend. He was the only friend I had. I couldn't do that to him after what he had done for me, but unless I did I would go back to Farnworth and that was something I just couldn't face. I had to think of a way to get out of this: there had to be a way.

With my mind still busy, I asked, "Where's the safe?"

"In the sitting-room in the bungalow."

"How do you expect me to open it without him hearing me?"

"He's going to a Legion meeting on Saturday. That's when you'll do it."

I flicked the butt of my cigarette out into the hot night. As I lit another, I said, "And what are you supposed to be doing while I'm busting open the safe—watching me?"

"It's my night shift. I'll be in the kitchen, baking pies. I'll be so busy I won't hear you leave. I won't even know you have gone until he gets back."

Then I saw how I could fix her. It was easy. There was nothing to it, except I would be on the run again and I would be out of a good job, but at least I wouldn't have let Jenson down, and that was something pretty important to me.

"What time does he leave and what time will he be back?"

"He leaves at seven and gets back around two o'clock."

All right, you bitch, I said to myself, now I've got it fixed. You are in for a surprise. Okay, I'll open the safe. Then when you walk in to collect, you'll walk into a clip on the jaw. I'll take money. By the time you've come to, I'll be halfway over the mountain. I'll take care you can't use the telephone and I'll make sure you can't raise the alarm until he gets back and finds you. Then when I'm far away, I'll write to him and tell him the whole story and I'll send him back his money: every cent of it. If I do that, he'll believe me. He'll have to believe me if I do that and he'll know what a treacherous bitch he's married to.

Just to kid her along, I said, "I hate doing a thing like this him. He's been pretty good to me."

"Never mind the sob talk," she said impatiently. "Are you going to open the safe or are you going back to Farnworth?"

"Well ..." I paused, then went on, "I'm not going back to Farnworth."

"Then Saturday?"

I pretended to hesitate then shrugging my shoulders, I said, "I guess so. Okay, I'll do it."

She got to her feet and flicked her cigarette away into the darkness.

"Don't imagine I'm bluffing, Mr. Chet Carson. If you don't open that safe, you re going back to Farnworth."

"You don't have to drive it into the ground," I said, looking up at her. "I said I'd d do it, didn't I ?"

"You'd better do it!" she said, and walked down the steps across the moonlit sand towards the bungalow.

I watched her go.

Well, the cards were face up on the table. It depended now on who outsmarted who.

I was pretty confident I had the four aces against her four kings.

On the following morning, while I was clearing up after the lunch-hour and when Jenson was minding the pumps, I said to Lola, "Get me the number of the safe. I've got to have it before I can handle it."

She looked sideways at me out of her hard green eyes. "I'll get it."

Later in the day, when Jenson was out of the way, she gave me a slip of paper.

The safe number told me Jenson had been sold an obsolete model which was now off the market. It hadn't been a success because when the safe door was shut it locked automatically. Most safe users preferred to lock the door with a key, and besides, this model had proved to be one of the easiest safes to break into.

It suited me. It wouldn't take me ten minutes to open, and time was an important factor in this set-up.

On Thursday, when Jenson and I were working together in the garage, he said, "I've to go to Wentworth on Saturday night: there's a Legion meeting on. Lola is on night shift. I'll be glad if you'll keep an eye open just in case she runs into a trucker who doesn't know his manners."

I got a tight feeling in my chest.

Jenson trusted me. He was leaving his wife here alone with me and he wanted me to look after her in case some trucker got fresh. It didn't cross his mind that, being alone with her, I might get the same idea.

"I'll watch it, Mr. Jenson" I said. "You don't have to worry."

He grinned at me.

"I know that, Jack. When it comes to men, I don't make mistakes. You're all right."

Friday was my day off. I asked Jenson if I could borrow the Mercury.

"I thought I'd take a look at Tropica Springs."

"You go ahead: sure, take the car."

"I could do with some money. Let me have a hundred, will you, Mr. Jenson?"

"I'll get it right away." I could see he was a little surprised. I was asking for so much, and again I cursed myself for letting him handle my savings.

He went off to the bungalow, and after a while he came back with the money.

I asked him if there was anything I could get him in Tropica Springs. He said no, and then gave me a nudge in the ribs.

"Keep away from the cat houses, Jack, and don't come home drunk."

As I drove off, I saw Lola watching me from the kitchen.

You would look a damn sight more sulky, you chippy, I thought; if you knew what I was cooking up for you.

The road over the mountain was tricky with a lot of hairpin bends, and although I kept pressing, it took me close on four hours to reach Tropica Springs, That worried me. It cut my escape time down.

I had my escape plan pretty well organised. I had decided against taking a plane. The airport would be the first place the police would check, and besides, it was unlikely there would be a plane to New York at that hour of the morning.

Parking the car, I went to a travel bureau and inquired the time of trains leaving for New York. I was told there was one leaving Tropica Springs at 12.30 a.m.

As Jenson was leaving for Wentworth at seven, I could get the safe open and the money packed by seven-thirty and could be on my way to Tropica Springs by seven-forty-five. It would only take me a few minutes to fix Lola. That gave me three-quarters of an hour to get the train.

Leaving the travel bureau, I went to a nearby store and bought myself a pair of fawn-coloured trousers and a sports coat in grey with big green pouch pockets: the kind of coat you can see corning a half a mile off. I bought a nigger brown straw hat with a red band and a pair of moccasin shoes. I also bought a big suitcase in which I put the clothes. I locked the suitcase in the trunk of the Mercury, then I went to a chemist shop and bought a pair of sun goggles and a bottle of hair bleach. These, too, I locked in the trunk.

Lola would give a description of me to the police: she would tell them what I was wearing and it was essential to have a complete change of clothing as unlike what I would wear when I left point of No Return as possible, and to make the change before I reached Tropica Springs.

Satisfied that I had taken ore of everything, I drove out of Tropica Springs and headed for Point of No Return.

At the end of the mountain road just as I came out into the desert there was a big patch of scrub and prickly cactus. I stopped the car by it, and taking the suitcase from the trunk, I set it down in the middle of the scrub.

I could easily find it again, and the chances of anyone else finding it was remote enough not to bother me.

I got back to Point of No Return soon after seven, in time to help with the dinner hour. We served eighteen dinners, and we were all kept on the go until eleven o'clock.

It was my night shift, and Jenson went off to bed soon after eleven, leaving me to look after the pumps and Lola to finish up in the kitchen.

Around eleven-thirty, as I sat in the basket chair by the pumps, smoking and looking at the evening paper, Lola came over to me.

"What were you doing in Tropica Springs?" she asked, pausing by me.

"What do you imagine I was doing?" I said, staring at her. "I went out there to book a seat on a plane for San Francisco."

"Is that where you are going?"

"Why should you care where I'm going?"

She lifted her shoulders indifferently.

"I don't: so long as you open the safe."

"I'll open it."

"Yes, you'll open it," she said, and walked away towards the bungalow.

I leaned back in the chair and| looked the place over. One more day, and then I would never see it again. I had grown to love it. I took as much pride in it as Jenson did. I was going to miss him too.

For the rest of the night I sat and brooded. I felt depressed. I wondered what I would be doing in a week's time. It was a joke to think I would have a suitcase crammed full of money that didn't belong to me, and which I was determined to send back to Jenson. With that kind of money I could go anywhere and do anything. I could buy a place like this somewhere on the Florida coast, get married and settle down in comfort and safety for the rest of my days.

But I couldn't do it to Jenson: Not after the way he had treated me. I had to send the money back to him. I could never live with myself if I didn't.

Around six o'clock on Saturday evening, Jenson came out of the lunch room and joined me in the garage where I was working on the outboard motor.

"Going to wash now, Jack. You okay?"

"All fixed, Mr. Jenson."

"I don't reckon I'll get back much before two o'clock," he said "These Legion shindigs get a little wild after the business end of it." He winked at me. "Don't tell Lola that."

"You have a good time," I said. I couldn't dig up a smile for him, I was feeling too bad. In an hour he would walk out of my life and I would never see him again.

When he had gone, I went over to the station wagon we used to collect anything too heavy for the Mercury and not heavy enough for the truck. I made sure the gas tank was full and checked the oil. It was in the station wagon I was going to make my getaway.

For the next twenty minutes we had a stream of cars going through Tropica Springs and I was kept busy. I didn't encourage any of the drivers to stop off for a meal. As soon as Jenson had gone, I wanted to get at the safe.

There was no sign of Lola, but I could hear her clattering dishes in the kitchen. Around five minutes to seven, Jenson out of the bungalow. He was wearing his best suit and he had cigar clenched between his teeth. He looked pretty good. He went into the lunch room to say goodbye to Lola.

I was getting the jitters now. I wished he would go so I could tackle the safe. This hanging around was tearing my nerves to shreds.

Finally, just after seven, he came out and I joined him in Mercury.

"Well, have a good time," I said, looking at him and thinking this was the last time I would see him.

"Take care of things here, Jack. I don't really want to go, but you know how it is."

"Sure. You don't have to worry your head. Mrs. Jenson and I will handle it"

"Yeah." He got into the Mercury.

I would have liked to have shaken his hand. Instead, I could only give him a casual wave.

The evening sun was just beginning to sink behind the mountain: in another half-hour it would be dark.

"So long, Jack."

"So long, Mr. Jenson."

I watched the Mercury drive off in a cloud of dust. I stood there until I had lost sight of it as it entered the foothills, then I started towards the bungalow.

Lola was already there, waiting at the door. She looked pale and her eyes were glittering.

"Where is it?" I said as I joined her.

"In the sitting-room behind the sofa."

"You'd better stay by the pumps," I said. "It'll take me a couple of hours to open."

I saw suspicion jump into her eyes.

"As long as that?"

"I told you, these safes are tough. I haven't the combination. It'll take at least two hours. Get out there and take care of the pumps."

I went into the sitting-room and looked at the safe. It was a combination job with no lock and key.

She stood in the doorway watching me.

"I'll get some tools. Hadn't we better shut the lunch room? You don't want a party coming in and yelling for food."

"I've shut it," she said.

I went past her and across to the garage. I collected some tools and put them in a big canvas bag. The bag would do to carry the money when I got at it. As I came out of the garage I saw a Packard coming fast along the desert road.

Lola saw it too, and she left the front entrance of the bungalow and went over to the pumps. I started for the bungalow as the Packard pulled up.

I glanced at the two men in the car and I felt a cold chill snake up my spine.

They were cops. Although in plain clothes, there was no mistaking them: two big, hard-faced men with aggressive jaws and cold alert eyes.

I kept going, feeling sweat break out all over me.

A voice bawled, "Hey! You!"

I stopped and turned.

Both men got out of the car. Both of them were looking at me.

Lola was staring at them. She knew what they were. She was as tense as I was.

I walked slowly over to them, fighting down my rising panic.

"I've got a flat," the bigger of the two said. "It's in the trunk. Fix it, will you? I don't want to go over the mountain without a spare."