by Gavin Black
“I don’t expect you to talk, Mr. Mishimando. It won’t be necessary. I’m going along now to see Mrs. Susie Clynder. It’s unsporting to crack the weaker vessel, but we haven’t a lot of time, and the police are still after me for murder.”
The heavy lids lifted then, just for a moment, but that was all I wanted. I saw that Reggie was looking down at me as though he thought I was verging on the sadistic. Perhaps his war had let him stay a gentleman.
“Shall we truss him up?” I said. “I’ll be leaving you to phone the police.”
I found a woman’s sash in one of the rooms and made use of that, ripping it in two and dealing with Mishimando’s hands and feet.
“You want me to stay here?” Reggie asked when we were finished. “So that you can go with Marla and pick up the plans?”
“Do you think I’m a fool? How would it look for me if I had a great wedge of diesel specifications shoved up my jumper when the police arrived? I’m not sticking out my neck, Reggie. The plans can wait. Marla can give them back to the Swedes’ new man for all I care. Fat use they are to either you or me now and you know it. And think what a chance this staying behind is going to give you. The golden opportunity to keep yourself in the running for that civil decoration. Consider for ten minutes and then ring Tokyo police headquarters with a tidy story about you only coming with the fugitives to keep track of them. With your splendid reputation that ought to stick. But at any rate you owe it to yourself to try.”
“Thanks,” Reggie said. “I might at that.”
“My dear fellow, I’m sure you will. And I don’t mind. I’ve never wanted to be pals with the police, just avoid them. It would be nice if you could get the police to come here first, to give me a little time. And I’d like it if you’d try to make them understand that I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Naturally.”
“You’re a friend,” I said, and went to carry Joe to the car.
Marla and I came across the sand towards the beach house. I was still carrying Joe, who was asleep, with a kind of limp heaviness to his body. The glass wall beyond the terrace was lit up, but heavily curtained. I thought about Susie in there waiting, ready to greet a girl whose child she had helped to snatch. It didn’t make for much beyond one feeling towards her, the one that had been hardening in me for quite a time.
“You knock on the glass door,” I said before we went up the concrete steps. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Marla knocked. We both heard the movement in the room, as though someone had got up quickly, pushing back a chair in doing it.
“Who is it?” Susie’s voice, taut and anxious.
She had her reasons to be that way, thinking about the money that might be coming. Or might not if anything went wrong.
“Marla.”
The door opened at once. The moonlight behind showed me at once. Susie stared, leaning back a little, as though she thought of slamming the door again. I gave Marla a push with one hand.
We went in the room and I kicked the door shut. Susie, absolutely silent, just backed away from us, staring. She had a kind of control, her expression was almost normal, but there was terror in her eyes.
“Take the boy, Marla. Up to bed. When he’s all right come back again.”
“You found him …” Susie began, groping for words.
“Yes, right where you left him. In a back room at Mishimando’s.”
Even then her face didn’t go to pieces. She was a cool one, little Susie. She had faced crises before, and dealt with them. For all I knew her life with Al might have been one long series of crises. That kind of thing develops a sort of pattern for emergencies, something to draw on. She was drawing hard on reserves now.
I had the feeling that Marla wanted out of the room, that these moments were sharply unbearable to her. She had counted on the Clynders as a kind of anchor in her life.
Marla went out, carrying the boy. Susie was back against a table, as though it was holding up her retreat from me. She was again wearing the cute little home entertaining outfit, though I was certain it wasn’t long since she had been dressed in a much more practical manner. I could see, too, just how recently Susie had been using my Martini formula, blurring tension with it.
“I’m so glad,” she said, slightly up in key, like an actress who is getting weary of the producer’s nagging. “I’m so glad you found him!”
“I’ll bet.”
I took out the gun.
“I kept this all evening. But I didn’t use it. There isn’t a bullet gone. Not yet.”
I emptied the gun and took out all the bullets, putting back one, letting her see me do that. She brought her teeth down over her lower lip, biting hard.
“You know, Susie, you’ve only got one card left to play. It’s not a very good one. It involves the gallantry of two men to keep you covered. One of them is Mishimando. Shouldn’t think he’s a gallant type, would you? The other is your husband. It’s really putting a marriage to the supreme test that, isn’t it?”
“I … I don’t know what you mean!”
“It’s really so simple. Is Al’s devotion the kind which will keep him from talking? Can you count on your loving husband to that point, Susie? Or will he blab to the police when they put the heat on. I’ve got a strong feeling that they’re probably putting the heat on him right now.”
“I don’t know … what you’re talking about!”
“I’m talking about how you killed Harry and whether or not you can now expect to get away with it. Whether you’ve even got the slimmest chance of getting away with it.”
“I … killed …? You’re crazy!”
“I don’t think so. It was Al’s job, of course. To take me up to Tokyo, plant me in an area where I’d make a nice suspect again, while Al got on with dealing with Harry. Only, after we’d gone you didn’t like the way things were running. What if Al didn’t make it through to the ‘Happy Days’ for that final contact with Harry? That was a nasty possibility. So you got in touch with Mishimando and he lent you his car. He may have even urged action on you, keeping well out himself. He strikes me as that kind of a boy. Quite ready to use blundering foreign fools in any way that suits him.”
“I just don’t know. … Mishimando? What are you talking about him for? And …”
“We caught Mishimando just as he was going to the Daibutsu to collect the plans. Reggie is with him. He hasn’t talked yet, but he will. When he does, it will be enough to hang you, Susie. And you know that.”
She changed colour then, as though terror was suddenly a pit in front of her and she was on the crumbling edge of it. She closed her eyes just for one moment not to see what was beneath her, and then opened them as Marla came into the room.
“Take a look at her, Susie,” I said. “You didn’t make any comment on Marla’s face when you first saw it. That was a mistake. I know it didn’t surprise you, but you should have been shocked, even though Harry had told you all about it before you killed him. Harry was that sort, wasn’t he? He talked too much. It was what you and Mishimando were afraid of. You were sure you could make your big shivering husband keep his mouth shut, but you didn’t think Harry was going to be a safe proposition to leave around loose. He might get drunk one night and brag. He bragged a lot.”
Susie’s hand came up and she pressed her fist against her mouth. Marla just stood in the doorway looking at Susie, and in her look there was a kind of pity. It was remarkable that she could still feel it, but it was there. I didn’t feel it.
“Harry had to be killed, didn’t he Susie? You were doubtful about Al’s getting there to do the job. The mistake you made was in letting Mishimando push the job on you. However desperate you were, that was a big mistake. Very big. Or didn’t you mind it, Susie? You didn’t really mind sticking a knife into Harry at a moment when he was least expecting it?”
“Paul … no … please!” It was Marla.
I turned on her.
“What’s your sentiment about? She killed Harry. In co
ld blood. Left here and drove up to Tokyo, all the way thinking about how to do it. And carrying a knife that would send the police hot after me again. What’s your sentiment about? Old friendship?”
Marla began to cry. Susie was standing perfectly still, her face tight, a kind of control re-established. I looked at her.
“If you’re thinking now about how you can push this on Mishimando, Susie, don’t try. It won’t wash. He knew where to sell the plans. I’m pretty sure that the whole thing was his idea, and after sizing you and Al up very carefully indeed he decided to use you. It was a nice proposition for him. The pair of you were desperate enough to do almost anything, for a price. What was the price, Susie? Enough for that cottage in the Cotswolds?”
Susie broke then, suddenly, with one great, retching sob that seemed to come up from her stomach. She lifted her face, the tendons of her throat stretched, standing out, scrawny.
“Money! What do you know about it? Rich man, oh, I’ve heard plenty. Always had it on a platter. I’ve never had it, do you hear? Always pretending. Al the big man. Like a big fat jelly. No guts. He never gave me anything, nothing a woman wants. No security. I’ve never had anything. Yes … I wanted that house in the Cotswolds! Yes, I wanted to get out of this damn’ country! I hate it! I hate everything Al brought me to. And made me take. Living here with these damn’ bells. These … damn’ … bells!”
She went down then, right on to the carpet, catching at a small table, her arms out over it and her head down. She wanted to hide, but it was too late. I couldn’t let her, no one could.
“The operation was a nice touch, Susie. A bed becomes available for you in London just as soon as you’ve collected your share of the boodle from Mishimando. You fly out and later you can’t return to Japan because of your health. Al tidies up and joins you. Only a woman could have worked out all these trimmings.”
Susie beat on the table twice with a closed fist.
“Will … you … stop it!”
Marla came towards me then.
“Paul, please! Let her alone. How can you be like this?”
“I have to be.”
“No, you can …”
“I can what? Go back to your boy, Marla. Leave us.”
“No! I want to know what you do.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
Susie turned her head then, twisting it on her arms staring at us both. We both saw her trying to push away the terrible weakness of stark fear. Then she moistened her lips with her tongue. Her lips were a startling red in an ash-grey face.
“You’re going to help me,” she said softly at first. “I know you are. You’re going to help me to get away. You can’t leave me in this place. You can’t let them get me. You wouldn’t do that. There’s some way …”
“Yes, there’s a way.”
Susie pushed herself back by the table, watching me. I took out the gun I had borrowed, with its one bullet. I held it in my hand.
“Out there it’s moonlight, Susie. You could get away. But you wouldn’t get very far. And you’d be very lonely for a time. You’d probably hear those bells. I wouldn’t advise you to run for it. But I’m giving you the chance. You can choose.”
I put the gun on the table behind me, near the edge, where she could still see it from where she was. Susie stared at the gun.
“No! You … don’t mean that! There must be something else. You’ve got to help me! You’ve got money. You could get me out of the country. I know you could!”
“I couldn’t. Not out of Japan. It’s a trap for people like you and me in trouble.”
I got Marla by the arm then and before she quite knew what I was doing pushed her through the door. There was a key in the lock and I turned it, pulling the door shut after us, locking it. Marla grabbed at the knob just as I yanked the key out.
“Paul, no! You can’t leave Susie …”
“She’s got to be left.”
“But a choice like that! What right have you …? It’s as though you were telling her …”
“I was telling her. The alternative is a Japanese jail, if she doesn’t get the death sentence. It’s the best I can do. The British sticking together.”
“Oh, how can you say that!”
“Marla, go on up to Joe.”
“No, no, I’m going back to Susie!”
“She’s not making a fuss. Not any longer.”
And it was quite true. There wasn’t a sound from the sitting-room.
“Go on up to Joe, Marla. It’s where you ought to be. Lock the door behind you. That’s where you were when the police ask questions.”
Marla went up the stairs, crying, and then running. I heard her go along a passage and shut a door. Then there was silence. The revolver made a lot of noise in a still house by a beach shining under the moon.
I went on standing in the hall, letting the silence come back. It seemed to do it slowly, and then there was a rattling outside. I went to the French windows at the foot of the hall. Ohashi was out there on the terrace, trying to get into the sitting-room.
“I’m down here,” I said.
“Oh, Mr. Harris! You are okay?”
“Yes. Sorry I had to run out on you. But I see you didn’t let the police nab you.”
“I am greatly upset. I hear siren and I can do nothing. If I go in hotel how can I find you?”
“I know. I thought of that. I’m glad you didn’t find us. I want you clear of all this. And the police are coming. I’m not on the run now Ohashi. You can read about it in the papers, but get home.”
“But Mr. Harris, if you need me …”
“I don’t need you. At least not now. I may later. And I want you completely unconnected with all this, do you understand? So clear off. How’s your mother?”
“I not go home yet.”
“How did you know to come here?”
“I am hiding in hotel garden. I hear police say car has gone by, belonging to Mr. Spratt. That you must be in it. So I think you come here. I come, too.”
“Ohashi, that job in Singapore’s on, you know that.”
“Yes, Mr. Harris.”
“Get home now, quick!”
When he was at the steps I called out to him, softly:
“I’m glad my new assistant’s a samurai.”
He turned then and gave me a formal bow, his hands sliding down the front of his body.
The police arrived with a great roaring, and Reggie. There was the clatter of their feet on the stairs and in the halls, and we were questioned in separate rooms, then all together downstairs where a body was covered with a big man’s raincoat. The police got the plans from Marla. She had hidden them behind the hot water tank in the bathroom drying cupboard.
I got most of the interrogation, a final session in a back bedroom, and this went on until dawn, but I wasn’t arrested. Instead we were all confined to the house, including Reggie, which surprised him, with freedom to do what we liked inside, but little men in white uniforms watching all bolt holes. A necessary precaution for the time being, the detective-sergeant said. I was glad he wasn’t one of the two who had come to collect me on the beach. He was actually extremely civil, having a body and two prisoners to content his superiors, one prisoner in Kamakura, the other in Tokyo. We weren’t told whether Mishimando had talked, but we knew he would. I had the feeling, though that the company which had agreed to buy the stolen plans would never be named in the press. We didn’t know if Al had talked either, but I wasn’t worried about that.
I had run out of cigarettes by the time they had finished with me and cleared out of the house. There was a bed but I didn’t sleep on it. I went along the upper hall to the room where I knew Marla was with Joe and knocked on the door. Marla told me to come in.
Joe was in a big double bed, but with both arms outside the covers, as though he had just dropped off while talking to his mother. There was no light on, and though the room held shadow still, it was grey outside, and that lightening to colour. Marla was in a chair b
y the window and had been looking at the sea.
“Have you a spare packet of cigarettes?”
“On that chest.”
“Joe woke up?”
“Yes.” Her voice was tight, with feeling at the edges of it.
“He’s all right. I’m glad. I’m very glad. Marla, we’ll get you out of Japan all right, you and Joe. I can fix it. I’ve got a Japanese assistant now who ought to be useful in that direction. But I’m not expecting any trouble from the Kyushu Komatsus. You’ll be free to fly out in a few days, I should think.”
“I suppose I will be.”
“I don’t like to say this, but how are you fixed for money?”
“I’ve enough.”
I lit my cigarette and took the packet over to her, but she shook her head. We both looked at the sea. After a moment she said:
“I know I should feel grateful to you, Paul. And I will. But just now, I …”
“I’m not in the market for gratitude. I was saving my own skin. Marla, I want you to think about something, something connected with Joe.”
She looked at me then, waiting.
“It’s just that I had a son and he died. I’d like to do something for Joe. It would be silly not to mention money. I don’t suppose you’ll have an easy time of it at first, in California or wherever you go. And what I’m getting at is that I’d like Joe to have some of the chances I’d have given to my son. Would you … consider that?”
“Yes, Paul, I will.”
“It would mean a lot to me if you decided you could see this my way. I don’t need to go into reasons.”
When I was at the door I had the feeling that she meant to say something else, and I turned. Marla was sitting forward in her chair, her hand out in a gesture towards me. But she dropped it and sat back.
I went down the stairs.
Reggie was in the sitting-room which looked remarkably tidy. Maybe the men who had taken photographs had put everything back. He had found the electric razor in the bathroom and was spruced up for the new day, starting it with a beer.
“How do you like our temporary captivity?” I asked.
“Oh, I won’t be here for long.”
“No, I don’t suppose you will. Hallo, have the police fixed the phone?”