Just Another Sucker (14 page)

‘Maybe you’d give me a hand and we could push it to the kerb.’

He rubbed his night-stick against his thick, red ear and he squinted at me.

‘Yeah?’ He spat into the road. ‘Do I look the kind of mug who pushes cars belonging to unlucky punks? I’ll tell you something: I hate cars and I hate punks who own cars. Get this goddam heap off the middle of the road or I’ll book you for obstruction.’

I got out of the car and tried to push it, but it was standing on a slight gradient and I couldn’t move it.

I pushed until the sweat rolled off me and the cop watched, his ball-like head cocked on one side, watching.

‘You need some iron in your bones, buster,’ he said, and slouched forward. ‘Okay: relax. You can consider yourself booked. Let’s have a look at your licence.’

The effort of trying to move the car had left me breathless. I handed him my licence and I had enough sense to give him also my brand new Press card. He stared at the Press card, then at me, then back to the Press card.

‘What’s this?’ he asked.

‘I work for District Attorney Meadows,’ I said. ‘I’m Lieutenant Renick’s man.’

‘Renick?’ The cop pushed his cap to the back of his head. ‘Why didn’t you say so before? The Lieutenant and me were buddies before he got promoted.’ He fingered the Press card doubtfully, then gave it back to me. ‘Well, I guess it won’t kill me – I’ll give you a hand.’

Together we shoved the car to the kerb.

The cop surveyed the car, an expression of disgust on his face.

‘A bust gearbox, huh? That’s going to cost you plenty to put right, isn’t it?’

‘I guess so.’ My mind was racing. What was I going to do? I didn’t dare leave the car in a garage. The only possible thing was to get the car to my garage. But then what was I going to do with Odette’s body?

‘Well, I guess you guys who own cars must expect to spend dough. Me – I wouldn’t own a car if someone gave me one,’ the cop went on.

‘Is there a garage anywhere around?’ I asked, wiping my sweating face with a handkerchief.

‘About a mile up the road, but it’ll be shut. If a squad car passes and spots this heap, they’ll have it towed to headquarters, and then you’ll get booked.’

Across the way I saw an all-night drug store.

‘I guess I’ll phone,’ I said.

‘Best thing. I’ll stick around. Tell the guy I want him to move the heap. I’m O’Flagherty. He knows me.’ He took out his guide book and gave me the telephone number of the garage.

I went over to the drug store and phoned the garage. There was a long delay before a man’s voice, sleepy and surly, came on the line. He demanded what the hell I wanted.

I told him I wanted a tow and that Officer O’Flagherty had given me the garage number.

The man cursed fluently, but finally he said he would come.

I went back to the Packard.

‘He’s coming,’ I said.

The cop grinned.

‘I bet he cursed.’

‘He certainly did.’

‘When you see the Lieutenant, tell him I think of him,’ O’Flagherty went on. ‘He’s a fine man. He’s the best man we have had on the force.’

‘I’ll tell him.’

‘Well, I guess I’ll be on my way. See you some time.’

‘I hope so, and thanks.’

His red, hard face split into a grin.

‘We guys have got to stick together,’ and nodding, he started off down the road, swinging his night-stick and whistling under his breath.

I lit a cigarette with a shaky hand. I was in such a panic I could scarcely breathe. When I got the car into my garage, what was I going to do? There was Nina to think of. How was I going to move Odette’s body without being certain Nina wouldn’t suddenly walk into the garage just when I was doing it? I couldn’t do it in daylight. Nina never went out at night. I was in such a jam, I couldn’t think straight. My mind was seething with panic.

After a ten-minute wait, the breakdown truck arrived. The garage man was a little guy, thin as a bean stick and Irish to his backbone. He was in such a rage, he didn’t speak to me but got in the Packard, tested the gears, got out and spat in the street.

‘Busted gearbox,’ he said. ‘A two-week job, and it’ll cost plenty.’

‘I want you to tow me home,’ I said.

He stared at me.

‘Don’t you want me to repair the goddam thing?’

‘No. I want you to tow me home.’

His face worked convulsively.

‘You mean you got me out of bed at this hour and I don’t get the repair job?’

I had had enough of Irishmen for one night.

‘I work for the District Attorney,’ I said. ‘Stop yakkiting and tow me home.’

I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel, but somehow he managed to swallow his anger.

Muttering under his breath, he fixed the tow cable. I told him where to go, and I got in beside him in the truck.

Neither of us said a word during the four-mile drive home. As we pulled up outside the bungalow, I looked anxiously at the windows, but no lights showed. Nina was in bed and asleep.

He cast off the tow line.

‘We’ll shove her into the garage,’ I said.

He didn’t help much, but the approach to the garage was on a gentle incline, and after a slight struggle, we got the car in.

‘How much?’ I asked.

Scowling at me, he said, ‘Fifteen bucks.’

I hadn’t got fifteen bucks. I took out my wallet. The most I could scrape together was eleven dollars. I gave him ten.

‘That’s plenty for a job like this.’

He took the bills, glared at me, then got in the truck and drove off.

I closed the garage doors and locked them.

Already the faint light of dawn was showing in the sky. In another hour the sun would come up.

There was nothing I could do now. I still had no idea what I was going to do.

In the meantime, all during the day, the body would have to remain in the trunk. The thought turned me sick.

I walked up the path, unlocked the front door and entered the lounge. I caught sight of myself in the wall mirror. I looked like a man in a nightmare.

On the table was Nina’s handbag. I opened it and took from it the duplicate set of keys of the car and dropped them into my pocket. I didn’t dare risk her opening the trunk while I was at the office.

I turned off the light and went silently into my dressing-room and stripped off my clothes. I took a shower. My mind was still too paralysed with fear for me to begin to think what my next move was to be.

I was reaching for my pyjamas when I heard the telephone bell ring. The sound made my heart contract. I pulled on my pyjama trousers and bolted into the lounge and snatched up the receiver.

‘Is that you, Harry?’ I recognised Renick’s voice. ‘Malroux has just phoned. She has been kidnapped!

Come on down to headquarters right away!’

I stood there, shaking, gripping the telephone, feeling wave after wave of panic run through me.

‘You hear me, Harry?’

I got control of myself.

‘Yes, I hear you. My goddam car has broken down. I’ve got a bust gearbox.’

‘Okay. I’ll send a squad car. It’ll be with you in ten minutes,’ and he hung up.

‘Harry… what is it?’

Nina was standing in the doorway, half asleep.

‘It’s an emergency. That girl has been kidnapped,’ I said, moving past her. ‘You go back to bed. They are picking me up right away.’

I was dressing hurriedly as I spoke.

‘Can I get you some coffee?’

‘Not a thing. Go back to bed.’

‘Well, if you’re sure…’

‘Go back to bed.’

I was struggling into my coat when I heard a car pull up.

‘Here they are now.’

I put my arm around her, kissed her, then I ran out to the waiting police car.

I

Renick was waiting for me in the Operations Room at police headquarters. He, Barty, the Federal Agent, and Captain of Police Reiger were studying a large wall map of the district as I came in.

Renick moved away from the map and joined me.

‘Well, here we go. Malroux paid the ransom and, of course, his daughter hasn’t been returned. We’re going over to talk to him now. I want you along, Harry.’

‘What happened then?’

‘The kidnappers told him his daughter would be at Lone Bay parking lot. She didn’t show, so he called us.’ He turned to Reiger. ‘Captain, can you collect her car and get it photographed? I’ll need prints when I get back.’ To me, he went on, ‘You’ll have to get the picture of the car in every newspaper: we want a complete local coverage.’

Reiger said, ‘I’ll fix it, and I’ll get the road blocks organised. In an hour, this district will be sewn up so tight a fly won’t get out of it.’

‘Let’s go, Fred,’ Renick said to Barty, and taking my arm, he strode off down the passage, down the stairs to the waiting police car.

As we were being rushed to Malroux’s place, Barty, a thick-set man in his early forties, said, ‘She’s dead, of course. If only the old fool had alerted us so we could have marked the money.’

‘I can’t say I blame him,’ Renick said. ‘In his place, I would have done the same. Money means nothing to him. He wants his daughter back.’

‘He should have guessed they wouldn’t return her. You know, John, the more I think about this, the more certain I am it’s a local job.’

‘That’s what I think.’

I stiffened to attention.

‘How do you figure that out?’ I asked.

‘Before she left for the movies,’ Renick said, ‘she got a telephone call from this guy Jerry Williams.

As soon as Malroux alerted us, I telephoned Williams, but he wasn’t there. He’s in hospital with a bust leg and he’s been there since Thursday so he couldn’t have telephoned the girl. That means it was the kidnapper using Williams’s name. How did he know about Williams? The boy’s father tells me the boy hasn’t seen Odette for a couple of months. Think that one over. Then another thing: why pick on the Pirates’ Cabin. Okay, it’s an out of the way place, but there are plenty of other lonely places better known than that joint. It’s very unlikely a stranger to the town would know of it.’

While he was speaking the police car pulled up outside Malroux’s house. The lights were on on the ground floor, and the front door stood open. I could see the butler waiting for us at the top of the steps.

He took us immediately to Malroux who was sitting in a vast room, lined with books and crowded with heavy antique furniture.

Malroux looked haggard and ill.

‘Come in, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘and sit down. I suppose you are going to tell me my daughter is dead.’

‘We won’t say that yet, sir,’ Renick said awkwardly. ‘There’s still hope she’ll turn up. You knew she had been kidnapped when I called on you this morning?’

‘Oh yes. This man threatened to kill her if I called you in. It was a difficult decision to make, but I finally decided not to tell you.’

‘I understand that. When did you last see your daughter?’

‘On Saturday night. She was going to the movies with a friend. She left about nine o’clock. Her friend telephoned about twenty minutes to ten to say Odette hadn’t arrived. This didn’t worry me. Odette is always changing her mind. She had a telephone call from young Jerry Williams just as she was leaving the house. I thought she had joined him. A little after half past eleven, the kidnapper telephoned.

He demanded a ransom of five hundred thousand. He warned me not to call in the police. He told me to have the money ready by today and I would receive instructions how to deliver it to him. I had a letter from Odette on Monday morning. I have it here.’

He produced the letter I had drafted and handed it to Renick who read it.

‘This is your daughter’s handwriting?’

‘Yes.’

Malroux then went on to tell Renick about the instructions I had given him, how he had driven along East Beach Road, had seen the flashing light, had dropped the money from the car and then had driven on to Lone Bay parking lot.

‘I found my daughter’s car there. One of the wings had been badly damaged as if she had had an accident. I waited there until three-forty-five, then I realised she wasn’t coming. I reported to a policeman who alerted you.’

‘He’s at the car park now,’ Renick said. ‘If she should turn up, we’ll know at once. You didn’t see the man who used the flashlight?’

‘No. He was hiding behind a clump of bushes. I only saw the light.’

‘We’ll want to check those bushes. Would you come with us and show us exactly where?’

Malroux lifted his shoulders wearily.

‘I’m a sick man, Lieutenant. The early morning air doesn’t agree with me. I anticipated you would want to see the place and I have sketched a map for you.’ He passed a slip of paper to Renick who examined it, then passed it to Barty.

‘Suppose you go out there and check, Fred?’ Renick said. ‘As soon as the news breaks, we’ll have people trampling all over that spot.’ He looked at me. ‘You go with him and send the car back for me.’

Barty nodded, and with me trailing after him, he went down to the police car.

‘Tough old guy,’ he said as we shot away down the drive. ‘Damned if I would be so controlled if I had lost my only daughter.’

It gave me a queer feeling when we pulled up by the clump of shrubs behind which I had hidden not three hours ago.

I now had the opportunity of seeing Barty at work, and I was immediately impressed by his efficiency. By now the sun was coming up. He told the two police officers with us to search around for a place where a car could have been hidden, then he investigated the clump of shrubs, warning me to keep away.

After some twenty minutes, during which time I stood around and sweated, he called me over.

‘I guess I’ve got all there is to be got here,’ he said. ‘You can see where the guy hid. Here’s a heel print in the soft earth that’ll make a dandy cast. It may not mean a thing unless we catch him wearing the same pair of shoes. Here’s a cigarette butt – a Lucky – but that may not mean anything unless we can prove he always smokes Luckies. If he does, we have a swell talking point for the jury.’

One of the police officers came over and told Barty they had found where the car had been hidden.

We joined the other officer where I had left the Packard.