1944 - Just the Way It Is

by James Hadley Chase

  Casy’s eyes gleamed. ‘No one’s getting into this house after tonight,’ he said. ‘You can bet on that.’

  Duke waved to him. ‘Well, so long,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ and he walked down the path, across the field to his car.

  FIFTEEN

  Clare was just putting her hat on when Sam Trench came into her office.

  ‘Going home?’ he asked, propping himself up against the wall and fumbling for his matches.

  ‘I was, Sam, then I’d arranged to meet Peter for dinner.’

  Sam lit his pipe. He released a long stream of tobacco smoke and sighed. ‘This young fella, Peter Cullen. You serious about him?’

  ‘Now, Sam, it isn’t your business whom I’m serious about,’ Clare said, smiling at him. ‘So don’t be nosy.’

  ‘Clare,’ Sam said, seriously, ‘I’ve always looked on you as my daughter. I want you to be happy.’

  She went over to him and patted his arm. ‘Oh, I’ll be happy,’ she assured him. ‘You don’t have to worry.’

  ‘But, I do,’ he insisted. ‘Still, I suppose you know what you are doing. I thought he looked a nice lad. Has he a good job?’

  ‘Really, Sam!’ Clare said, trying to be angry. ‘You’re quite impossible. I won’t have you interfering with my young man. If you must know, Peter’s doing very well and one of these days he hopes to have his own business.’

  ‘Not the same as having it,’ Sam said, shaking his head. ‘I’ve heard a lot about what these young fellas hope to have. The point is, is he a worker?’

  ‘Now, that really is quite enough from you,’ Clare returned. ‘If you haven’t anything better to do than to criticize my boyfriends, then we both had better get off home.’

  ‘I just want to make sure that you’ve got the right one,’ Sam said, hastily. ‘Not that I’ve got anything against the lad.’ He scratched his bristly cheek with his pipe stem. ‘Now, that Harry Duke . . . there’re no flies on him. . .’

  Clare walked over to her desk and began to slide her papers into her drawer. A slight flush mounted to her face. ‘I don’t see why you should mention Harry Duke and Peter in the same breath,’ she said, a little coldly.

  ‘He just came into my mind,’ Sam said, enjoying her embarrassment. ‘That fella’s going to go far.’

  ‘If he doesn’t get into trouble first,’ Clare returned. ‘You know, Sam, I wish Peter didn’t think so highly of him. It worries me. Harry Duke’s such a reckless person. He just doesn’t care what happens and I feel that he’ll get Peter into an awful mess before long. Look at this business with Timson. He tried to make out that he’d committed suicide. He doesn’t seem capable of telling the truth.’

  Sam found that his pipe had gone out and struck another match. ‘I suppose it didn’t occur to you that Duke was protecting young Cullen?’

  Clare looked at him sharply. ‘Protecting him? What do you mean?’

  ‘Just that. After all, my dear, this fella Timson must have come to see young Cullen, otherwise how did he get into Cullen’s room? On the face of it, Harry Duke could have walked out and left Pete Cullen to it, if he wanted to.’

  ‘Are you trying to tell me that you think Peter had something to do with the murder?’ Clare said, coldly.

  ‘Now, don’t be silly, my dear,’ Sam said, puffing at his pipe, ‘I’m just saying that Duke is less mixed up in this than young Cullen. But, Duke is doing all the work. I notice that young Cullen was quite willing to let him do it too.’

  ‘I think you’re a horrid old man, but you won’t make me quarrel with you. You’re being unfair and you know it. Peter’s got his job to do and he can’t neglect it. After all, Harry Duke’s got nothing better to do and this kind of thing amuses him’

  ‘I was thinking, my dear,’ Sam said, not listening to her, ‘that if Cullen’s too busy to help Harry Duke, perhaps we might do something.’

  Clare nodded. ‘Well, of course,’ she said. ‘But what can we do?’

  Sam tapped out his pipe into Clare’s trash basket and took out his worn tobacco pouch. ‘Isn’t Bellman tied up in this business?’ he said. ‘Well, we might take a look at him. At least we could talk to him and see if he’s got any ideas about Timson.’

  Clare picked up her bag. ‘I’ll go and see him now,’ she said. ‘I can tell him that I’ve come from the Clarion. He might have something to say.’

  ‘Don’t be in such a rush, my dear,’ Sam went on. ‘We’d better wait for Harry Duke. He may have other ideas.’

  ‘I’m not going to wait for anyone,’ Clare said, firmly, ‘I promised to meet Peter at Bentonville at eight o’clock. I’ll just have time to get over there and see Bellman and keep my date. I won’t give anything away and I might find out something.’

  ‘Yes,’ Sam said, ‘then maybe we’ll all get together tomorrow for another talk. All right, Clare, then you get off.’

  As he turned to the door, she paused. ‘Don’t think Peter’s not going to help,’ she said. ‘Because he will. I know he will.’

  ‘All right, all right.’ Sam waved her away. ‘You have a talk with him. I’ll hang on here a little longer. Maybe Harry Duke will look in.’

  When she had gone, Sam went back to his office and began work again. He became so engrossed in his editorial he lost track of time and suddenly glancing up, he was surprised to see that it was past eight o’clock. He got to his feet and began to put his papers away. Then he heard someone come in the outer office.

  He went to the door and glanced outside. Harry Duke was standing there looking round the empty office.

  ‘There you are,’ Sam said. ‘Come in. I’ve been waiting for you.’

  Duke followed him into his office. ‘Everyone gone home?’ he asked, sitting on the desk and feeling for a cigar.

  Sam looked at him sharply. ‘What have you done to your face?’ he asked.

  Duke smiled grimly. ‘Picked that up at Pinder’s End. They hand out applejack and a kick in the face as part of their hospitality. Quite a place, ain’t it?’

  ‘What’s been going on?’

  Duke shook his head. ‘Something’s up out there,’ he said. ‘I reckon Pinder’s End is at the bottom of the whole business. Know a guy called Casy?’

  Sam nodded. ‘Yep,’ he returned, ‘I’ve known Casy off and on for years. He’s a good guy. One time he had a pretty fine farm out there, but things went wrong. All the same he’s kept that little colony together. Have you met him?’

  ‘I bought some applejack off him. Like a shot?’

  Sam’s face brightened. ‘I know Casy’s hooch. Got it with you?’

  ‘It’s in the car,’ Duke said, getting to his feet.

  When he came back, Sam had put out a couple of glasses and took the jar from Duke. He pulled the cork with his teeth and sniffed at the jar. ‘I’d know this stuff blindfolded,’ he said, pouring two shots into the glasses. ‘I’ve got to be careful my missus don’t smell my breath. She’s a rare one against spirits.’

  They touched glasses.

  ‘How’s the progress, son?’ Sam asked, sipping the applejack with a benign expression on his face.

  ‘I’m getting Berhman to contest the orders to quit,’ Duke said. ‘That’s one point. Someone wants those folk out of Pinder’s End and I want ‘em to stay a while. So long as they’re there, there won’t be any strangers around the place.’

  Sam finished his drink. ‘What are you going to do next?’ he asked.

  Duke scratched his head. ‘Tomorrow,’ he said, ‘I’m going over to Casy’s house and really take the joint to pieces. I shouldn’t be surprised if there was something hidden in that house. Have you done anything today?’

  ‘I’ve been checking on Spade,’ Sam returned. ‘Now, that guy interests me. Everyone’s heard of him. He owns a number of houses in Bentonville. He runs the pin table organization, and he’s a regular subscriber to the Police Sports Fund. You know

  what that means. But no one’s ever set eyes on him.’

 
; Duke pulled his nose thoughtfully. ‘I’ve been in Bentonville for the last couple of years and I’ve never seen him,’ he said.

  ‘He ain’t been operating long. Korris does all the work and Spade gets all the credit. Interesting, don’t you think?’

  ‘Maybe I’d better see Korris,’ Duke returned. ‘But I’ve got to see Bellman first.’

  ‘I was forgetting. Clare’s seeing Bellman tonight.’

  Duke stared at him. ‘What’s the idea?’ he asked, sharply.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Sam said, hastily, seeing Duke’s eyes becoming cold. ‘She’s only interviewing him for the Clarion. Maybe she’ll get something out of him’

  Duke kicked back his chair and stood up. ‘I don’t like this,’ he said. ‘Bellman’s a tricky customer. He might easily get more from her than she’d get from him. When she seeing him?’

  ‘She went off about an hour ago,’ Sam said. ‘She’s got a date with Cullen at eight, so she’ll have seen Bellman by now.’

  Duke jerked his hat over his eyes. ‘I’ll get over there,’ he said. ‘You don’t know where Pete’s meeting her, do you?’

  Sam shook his head. ‘She didn’t say.’

  ‘Well, I’ll look Bellman up,’ Duke returned. ‘I hope she hasn’t told him anything.’

  ‘Clare’s smart,’ Sam said, with a confident nod. ‘She’s been in the newspaper game too long to give anything away.’

  As Duke was turning to the door, the telephone bell rang. Sam picked up the receiver.

  ‘This is Cullen,’ Peter said. ‘Is that you, Mr. Trench?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Sam said. ‘You’re lucky to find me in.’

  ‘Look, Mr. Trench, what’s keeping Clare? I’ve been waiting some time for her. Is she on her way?’

  Sam’s blue eyes popped. ‘Why, she left an hour and a half ago.’

  Duke leaned over the desk and snatched the telephone out of his hands. ‘This is Harry,’ he said, into the mouthpiece. ‘Where are you, Pete?’

  ‘I’m in my apartment. Is anything wrong?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. Stick where you are, Pete. I’m coming right over,’ and Duke slammed down the receiver.

  Sam said, ‘Well, you young fellows certainly kick an old man around.’

  Duke stood over him. ‘If anything’s happened to that girl,’ he said, coldly, ‘you’ll get kicked around. So she can look after herself, can she? She’s been in the newspaper game so long she won’t give anything away, huh? Okay, we’ll see,’ and he went out of the room at a run.

  SIXTEEN

  Duke reached Bentonville in less than twenty-five minutes, having travelled most of the way at seventy miles an hour. The road was straight and almost deserted and he was lucky not to run into any police patrol.

  He didn’t bother to go to Peter’s place, but made straight for Chez Paree.

  Leaving his car in a side turning, he walked down the block until he saw the neon lights of the club and then turned down a side street that brought him to the back of the building.

  Immediately behind the Chez Paree was a high wall. He could see the building looming above him, silhouetted against the starlit sky. Taking a few steps back, he ran forward, jumped and grabbed the top of the wall. He hung by his fingers for a second and then levered himself up. He was up and over all in one movement. The drop on the other side shook him a little, but he had made no noise. He found he was a little short of breath and he wondered if he were getting too fat.

  He stayed by the wall for several minutes until his eyes got used to the darkness, then as the low buildings began to take shape against the sky, he walked carefully to where he could see a raised fire escape. This was a lot harder to get on to, but he managed to hook it down with a long stick he found in the yard. As soon as he got his fingers on to it, it swung down quite easily.

  Before he mounted the escape, he stood listening, but there was no sound except the passing traffic on the main road and the faint rhythmic beat of the drums in the dance hall. Pulling his gun from its holster, he moved slowly up the iron steps. The cold butt of the gun felt good in his hand.

  The first platform he came to was opposite a window and he pressed his ear against the glass, listening for any sound. He could hear nothing. He took out his knife and levered the window up softly. When he had got it up an inch, he hooked his fingers under the frame and pushed up gently. The window opened without any noise. Heavy curtains obscured his view and he pushed them aside, peering into darkness. He slid in, closing the window behind him, then he struck a match.

  From the flickering light, he decided that the room must be the waiter’s rest room. Hats and coats lay together on a table and there were a number of soiled aprons hanging from hooks on the wall.

  He walked over to the door and opened it. The passage outside was in darkness. Faintly, he could hear people talking downstairs. He stood still and tried to remember where Bellman’s room was. He knew it was in the front of the building, so he walked the length of the long passage and decided that he was now out front.

  The passage turned at right angles at the end and he could see a faint light just before he turned the corner.

  He went round the corner very cautiously, but there was no one about. A small pilot light in the ceiling accounted for the light. Farther down the corridor he saw the double doors of the gambling hall. He knew he was close to Bellman’s room.

  A man and woman came out of the gambling hall and walked down the passage away from him. They were laughing at something the man was holding in his hand. They disappeared down the stairs.

  Duke stepped round the corner of the passage and walked quickly towards Bellman’s office. As he reached the door a man in evening dress came up the stairs, glanced at him and then went into the gambling hall, closing the door behind him.

  Duke opened Bellman’s door and stepped quickly into the room. It was in complete darkness. This brought him up short as he expected to find a lighted room and to see Bellman at his desk. He wondered if Bellman had gone home or was just downstairs and would be back.

  He closed the door and stood peering into the darkness trying to remember where the electric light switch was. He groped each side of the wall, but found nothing. So he reached for his matches. As he did so he suddenly sensed something that convinced him that he wasn’t alone in the room. He stood motionless, listening, but he could hear nothing.

  He tried to remember the details of the room. There should be a large armchair on the left. Right ahead would be Bellman’s desk. The rest of the room was more or less free of obstacles. He couldn’t remember anything that he was likely to fall over. He took a few silent steps forward and stopped again to listen. Still no sound. He moved forward again, very tense, ready to drop on his knees. As he moved, he thumbed back the safety catch on his gun. He wished he had a silencer on it. His left hand, outstretched, touched the top of Bellman’s desk. He remained still. Nothing happened. Yet he was certain there was someone in the room. He wondered grimly if it was the same person who attacked him in Casy’s house. Would it be Bellman? He thought not. Bellman’s nerves were not tough enough to play hide and seek in the dark.

  He moved a little to the right, trying to make up his mind to strike a match. Then things happened. There was a faint sound close to him. He bent his knees automatically. Something swished very viciously by his head. It made a cooling draught by his face.

  He shoved his gun into his hip pocket and dived for the sound, all in one movement. His shoulder hit someone and they went down together on the thick carpet.

  His hands groped, came in contact with silk and a woman’s body and he said into the darkness, ‘Well, for suffering in silence!’

  He collected a punch in the jaw that made his teeth rattle and then a hard little knee jerked into his stomach, curling him up. He felt the woman slide out of his hands.

  He grabbed out into the darkness and his hands found her skirt. This pulled her up for a second and he heard her catch her brea
th in terror. A sharp pointed shoe whizzed out of the darkness and caught him in his neck. He hung on, thinking that getting kicked around was becoming quite a habit that day. Then he jerked her back, shifted his grip and grabbed at where he guessed her legs would be.

  She came down on the floor with a bang and went limp.

  Still holding her, he groped in his pocket and found his matches. The feeble flame flared up and he peered at her with interest.

  Lorelli lay flat on her back, her big, black eyes glaring at him, and her breath coming from her mouth in strangled gasps.

  ‘I’ll fix you up with Strangler Lewis,’ Duke said, as he got to his feet. ‘You don’t even want any training.’

  He went over to the door, found the electric light switch and turned it on.

  Lorelli blinked at him and sat up slowly, making a little face. ‘I might have known it would be you,’ she said, scowling. ‘Do you have to follow me around?’

  He went quickly to the door, opened it and stood listening. No one seemed to have heard Lorelli’s fall. He closed the door and went over to her.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, kneeling down beside her.

  ‘What are you doing, for that matter?’ she returned, tucking her legs under her. ‘Ouch! I believe you’ve dislocated my spine!’

  He took her arm in his hand and shook her gently. ‘That’s nothing to what I’ll do to you if you don’t talk,’ he said. ‘What are you doing in here?’

  She tried to free her arm, but his grip tightened. His fingers dug into her soft muscles and she squirmed. ‘Let me go, you heel!’ and she swung at him with her right hand.

  He caught the flying wrist and held it. ‘Come on,’ he said, roughly. ‘What’s Bellman to you?’

  She was just opening her mouth to swear at him, when her eyes wandered past him and saw something that drove the blood from her face. Her mouth circled into a large O and Duke slapped his hand over her mouth in time to cut her scream.

  Holding her like that, he glanced over his shoulder and followed the direction of her staring eyes.