Just Another Sucker (19 page)

Nina said quietly, ‘What are we going to do now, Harry?’

That brought me up with a jolt.

‘What can we do? Without a car, we’re sunk!’

‘There are dozens of cars in this street and in Pacific Boulevard that are left out all night. We must take one of those.’

I stared at her.

‘You mean – steal it?’

‘We borrow it,’ Nina said firmly. ‘We bring it here, put her in it, then drive it round the corner and leave it. The car will be reported stolen, the police will find it and the girl.’ She gripped my hand. ‘I can’t bear the thought of leaving her in that mine, Harry. She must be found and found quickly.’

I hesitated, but I realised what she had said made sense.

‘It’s a risk, but you’re right. There’s no other way.’ I looked at my watch. The time was a little after eleven. ‘I’ll go out and see if I can spot a car that’s not locked.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘Okay.’

I put the newspapers away in the briefcase, and the case in a cupboard, then we left the bungalow.

Arm-in-arm, we strolled up the street like any couple for an airing before going to bed.

We reached Pacific Boulevard that ran parallel with our road. There were a number of cars standing at the kerb on either side of the street. We finally came on an old Mercury, and both of us paused.

‘This could do,’ I said.

Nina nodded. We looked up and down the street, then she opened her bag and took out a pair of gloves.

‘Let me do this,’ she said and backed up against the car. As she put on the gloves, she went on, ‘Put your arms around me, Harry. Make it look as if we’re courting. I’ll try the door.’

I took her in my arms.

If anyone was looking out of any of the many windows overlooking the street, they would have seen a man and a woman holding each other, the woman leaning against the car. It was a sight you could see in any street.

Nina said, ‘The door isn’t locked.’

I drew away from her and looked up at the house before which the car was standing. There were lights on in the upper rooms, but the lower rooms were in darkness.

Nina opened the car door and slid under the driving wheel, pulling the door to. I lit a cigarette while I kept a sharp look-out, up and down the street.

She was out again almost at once.

‘It’s all right,’ she said, taking my arm and moving away from the car. ‘The ignition isn’t locked.’

‘We can’t do a thing until after one o’clock,’ I said. ‘We’d better go back.’

‘Let’s walk. I don’t want to sit at home and wait.’

I could understand that, so we walked slowly down to the sea. That part of the beach was deserted.

We sat on the sea wall and looked across the bay at the distant lights of Palm City.

‘Harry,’ Nina said after a while, ‘are you sure the girl was murdered? She couldn’t have committed suicide?’

‘Not a chance. She was strangled. No, she was murdered all right.’

‘Who could have done it?’

‘I keep asking myself that. Unless it was some maniac who saw her going to the cabin and attacked her, then it’s my bet Rhea is responsible. She has the motive.’ I went on to tell Nina what Tim Cowley had told me about the hereditary laws of France.

‘If Odette had lived, she would have inherited half Malroux’s enormous fortune by right. Malroux is a dying man. It’s pretty convenient for Rhea that Odette should die like this, but I can’t believe she killed the girl herself. I’m willing to bet this alibi of hers – being ill and taking a sedative – will stand up. She’s too smart to be caught out in a false alibi. Sooner or later, Renick will get around to the fact Odette was to inherit half the fortune. If he suspects the kidnapping was faked, this motive will put him onto Rhea, and she’s smart enough to know it.’

Nina said, ‘This woman, Harry, must have a lover. Don’t tell me a woman like her is prepared to live with a sick old man. I’ve seen her photographs. I’m sure she has a lover.’

She was right, of course. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of the possibilities of a lover before.

‘Let me think a moment. You’ve given me an idea.’ I lit a cigarette, my mind busy. After a while, I said, ‘Let’s suppose there is a lover. Rhea tells him, when Malroux dies, half the fortune goes to Odette.

Suppose this guy thinks it would be better for the two of them to grab the lot. Neither of them are willing to take the risk of murdering Odette, so they look around for a fall guy and they pick on me. The kidnap plot is just a smoke screen. I fall for it. Odette falls for it too. Why she falls for it, defeats me, but she falls for it. Rhea and her boy friend are sitting pretty. If anything goes wrong, I’m the guy who’ll take the rap. The more I think about it, the more sure I am you’re right. There is a man behind all this – the lover – and he must be the one who killed Odette.’

For the next hour we talked, speculated and tried to plan, but we didn’t get anywhere. All the time, we both were thinking that the minutes were bringing us closer and closer to the time when we had to steal the car and move Odette’s body. It was a thought that froze both of us.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed one. Nina looked at me.

‘We’d better make a start.’

Neither of us spoke on the way back to the bungalow. We walked side by side, holding hands. There was nothing to say, both of us realised the full horror to which we were walking.

The street in which we lived was deserted. By now the TV sets had been turned off. The windows of the neat bungalows were dark. We were alone in this little suburban world.

At the intersection of Pacific Avenue and Pacific Boulevard, we paused.

‘We’ll get the car,’ I said.

We walked down Pacific Boulevard until we came to the Mercury. Every house and bungalow was in darkness. Without hesitation, Nina slid into the driving seat and started the engine. I went around to the off-side door which she opened for me and I got in beside her, being careful not to touch any part of the car. She drove the car into our street and pulled up outside our bungalow. I got out to open the gates and then the garage doors. Nina backed the Mercury down the runway. The Mercury and the Packard were now bumper to bumper.

Nina got out of the car and joined me. We both looked at the trunk of the Packard.

This was the moment.

‘Go into the bungalow and wait for me,’ I said.

‘I’ll help you, Harry,’ she said, a quaver in her voice.

I put my arms around her and hugged her. I knew what it meant for her to make such an offer.

‘I’m handling this myself,’ I said. ‘You must leave me to it.’

‘I’ll stand by the gate, just in case…’

She walked to the gates and stood there, looking up and down the road.

I went to the garage and took up the tyre lever and forced open the trunk of the Mercury. I swung up the lid.

I then unlocked the trunk of the Packard and swung it open.

The distance clock struck the quarter of the hour.

I dragged Odette’s body from the Packard’s trunk into the trunk of the Mercury. Handling her was a gruesome experience: an experience I will take to my grave.

While Nina continued to watch, I went into the bungalow and got the briefcase. I put it beside the dead girl and then I closed the lid of the trunk.

‘Okay,’ I said to Nina. ‘Let’s go.’

We got in the car. We were close together. I could feel she was trembling. She drove the car to the corner of Pacific Boulevard and there we left it. Silently, we walked back to the bungalow. We met no one.

As I shut the front door, Nina gave a strangled sigh and slid to the floor in a faint.

I

They found Odette’s body a little after ten o’clock the following morning.

I had been in my office since nine o’clock, sweating it out and waiting for the telephone bell to ring.

I had had a pretty bad night. When Nina came out of her faint, she developed symptoms of shock, and I had had quite a time with her. I finally made her take two sleeping tablets. Once I was satisfied she was asleep, I had gone to the garage and collected Odette’s suitcase from the trunk. I had then examined every inch of the trunk to make certain there was no trace of her to be found if those two soldiers came back in the morning to search the car. I even went over the inside of the trunk with the electric cleaner.

Then I took the suitcase to the furnace room and lit the furnace. I opened the case. It contained the scarlet dress she had worn when she had gone to the Pirates’ Cabin, the white plastic mack, the red wig and the usual toilet things a girl carries on a journey. I burned the lot, and I cut up the suitcase and burned that too.

I scarcely had any sleep that night and I was feeling pretty bad when I left for the office the following morning. Nina looked ill. We didn’t say much to each other. Both of us had this sick feeling of dread, knowing before very long the body must be found.

I found it impossible to work. I sat at my desk with a file in front of me and smoked endless cigarettes, waiting for the telephone bell to ring.

When it did finally ring, my hand was shaking so badly I nearly dropped the receiver.

‘We’ve found her!’ Renick’s voice sounded excited. ‘They have her down at headquarters. Come on, I’m on my way now.’

I found him and Barty waiting at the elevators. Barty was pressing the call button impatiently.

‘She’s dead,’ Renick said to me as I came up ‘She’s been murdered. She was found in the trunk of a stolen car in Pacific Boulevard.’

Little was said on the quick trip to headquarters. We drove straight into the yard. The Mercury stood in the shade with four or five plain clothes men grouped around it, watching a photographer at work.

I felt cold and sick as I got out of the police car and walked with Renick and Barty to the Mercury. I kept my eyes averted as Renick looked into the trunk.

‘I want the Medical Examiner to have her as soon as the photographer has finished,’ he said to one of the plain clothes men. ‘I want you boys to go over every inch of this car. Don’t miss a thing.’ He squatted down to stare again into the trunk. ‘Hey, what’s this? Looks like the ransom briefcase.’ He took out his handkerchief, reached inside the trunk and covering the handle of the case with the handkerchief, he lifted it out. ‘Don’t tell me the money’s here. It’s heavy enough.’ He set the case down and opened it while the other detectives crowded around. ‘Full of newspapers!’ he looked at Barty. ‘What the hell does this mean?’

‘Look at the dress she’s wearing,’ Barty said. ‘The barman at the Pirates’ Cabin said she had on a red dress and a white plastic mack. She’s changed her clothes.’

I had known the risk I was taking with the cheap blue and white dress, but nothing would have induced me to have taken the dress off the body and put the red dress back on her. It was something I couldn’t have done.

‘Where did the dress come from?’ Renick asked, puzzled. He turned to me. ‘Look, Harry, take a car and go to Malroux’s place. Ask Mrs. Malroux if the girl owned such a dress and bring someone down here to identify her.’

I stared at him.

‘You mean you want me to see Mrs. Malroux?’

‘Sure, sure,’ Renick said impatiently, ‘and break the news to the old man. Get O’Reilly to come down and identify her. We don’t want Malroux to see her. If he wants to come, warn him she isn’t a pretty sight, but check on that dress, it’s important.’

‘Okay,’ I said, and glad to get away from the Mercury and its gruesome contents I got into the police car and drove out of the yard.

Now, at last, I had the opportunity to talk to Rhea. Renick could trace that blue and white dress. Rhea had bought it. She was in for the jolt of her life.

Ten minutes later, I pulled up outside the Malroux residence. I ran up the steps and punched the bell.

The butler opened the door.

‘I’m from police headquarters,’ I said. ‘Mr. Malroux, please.’

The butler stood aside and let me in.

‘Mr. Malroux is far from well this morning. He is still in bed. I don’t like to disturb him.’

‘Mrs. Malroux will do… it’s important.’

‘If you will wait, sir…’

He started off down the long passage. I gave him a start, then moving silently, I went after him. He pushed open a glass swing door and stepped out onto the patio where Rhea lay in a lounging chair. She had on a pale blue shirt and white slacks. She looked extremely cool and beautiful, lying there in the sun.

She was reading the newspaper and she glanced up as the butler approached her.

I wasn’t giving him a chance to warn her. I stepped out onto the patio.

Rhea saw me. She stiffened. Her eyelids narrowed for a moment, then her expression became completely poker faced.

‘Who is this?’ she said to the butler.

As he turned, I walked up to her.

‘I’m from police headquarters,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but it is important.’

Rhea dismissed the butler with a wave of her hand. Neither of us spoke until the glass door had swung behind him, then I pulled up a chair and sat down.

‘Hello,’ I said. ‘Remember me?’

She leaned back, reached for a cigarette and lit it. Her hands were very steady.

‘Should I remember you?’ she said, lifting her eyebrows. ‘What do you want?’

‘They have found her,’ I said, ‘but not in the cabin where you intended them to find her. They found her in a trunk of a stolen car.’

She flicked ash onto the crazy paving.

‘Oh? Is she dead?’

‘You know damn well she’s dead!’

‘Did you two quarrel over the money? You needn’t have murdered her, Mr. Barber.’

Her brazen attitude rattled me.

‘You’re not getting away with that,’ I said. ‘You’re responsible for her death and you know it!’

‘Am I?’ Again she lifted her eyebrows. ‘I can’t imagine anyone but you believing that.’

‘Don’t kid yourself. You have the motive. When your husband dies, half his fortune was to have gone to Odette. It’s much more convenient for all the fortune to come to you, isn’t it?’

‘Of course.’ She smiled. ‘But you happen to be the one who planned the kidnapping. You happen to be the one who was to meet her at the cabin. I was in bed when she died and I can prove it. Where were you?’