'Don't be too sure. The police are looking for you for the Gracie Lehmann killing.'
'You don't have to worry about me,' he said lightly. 'You worry about yourself.'
The door into the apartment opened and Barratt came in. For a second or so he stood rooted, staring at me, then he moved into the room, closing the door, his thin, handsome face lighting up.
'How did he get in here?' he asked.
'He had a key,' the man in the fawn suit said, and got to his feet. 'Better check to see if he's wearing a rod.'
'Get up!' Barratt said to me.
I stood up.
He came to me from behind and ran his hands over me. He found the .38, jerked it out of the shoulder holster. Then he found the box of reefers.
He stood away while he opened the box, then gave me a sneering little smile.
'Very smart. Where were you going to plant them?'
'Oh, somewhere,' I said. 'You can't expect to hold the monopoly of planting evidence.'
He tossed the box on the table, came over to prod me with my gun. 'How did you get in?'
'Took the passkey. It hangs by the switchboard downstairs. Didn't you know?'
He went through my pockets again, found the passkey and tossed that on to the table.
He looked at Dedrick.
'He's lying, of course. Maxie must have given it to him. Well, all right; it's about time I fixed Maxie.' He took out a silver cigarette case, selected a cigarette, stuck it on his lower lip. As he lit it, his eyes browsed over my face. 'I owe you something, Malloy. You'll find I'm good at paying off old scores.'
'Can't imagine you'd be good at anything, but I'll take your word for it,' I said.
'What are we going to do with him?' Dedrick asked.
Barratt moved to the mirror over the fireplace and admired himself.
‘The mine, of course,' he said. ‘There's no better place for him. He'll take a nice long time to die.'
Dedrick grimaced.
'Why not put a slug through his head and leave him here? I don't want to go down there again. It gives me the horrors.'
'You'll do what I tell you,' Barratt said and ran his thumbnail along his thin moustache. Tie his hands.'
Dedrick went out of the room. He returned in a few seconds with a roll of two-inch-wide adhesive tape.
'One wrong move, and you'll get it,' Barratt warned me, raising the gun. Put your hands behind you.'
I put my hands behind me. There was nothing else I could do at the moment. Dedrick wound a length of tape around my wrists. He made a good job of it.
'Round his mouth too,' Barratt said.
Dedrick taped my mouth, crushing my upper lip against my teeth.
Barratt came over and stood before me, smiling viciously.
'I'm going to make you sorry you interfered with me,' he said, and hit me across the face with the gun-barrel. I staggered back. The back of my knees collided with the arm of the chair and I went over with a crash that shook the room.
'Take it easy!' Dedrick said, alarmed. 'We don't want anyone coming up here.'
Barratt snarled at him, came over to me and kicked me in the ribs. He kicked very hard, and I felt my ribs bend under the impact.
'How about Maxie?' Dedrick asked. 'We're wasting time, Jeff.'
'Get him up here,' Barratt said, and kicked me again.
Dedrick picked up the telephone receiver.
'Mr. Barratt is asking for you,' he said into the mouthpiece. 'Please come up.'
Barratt grabbed me by my coat front, hauled me to my feet and slammed me into the armchair.
'We'll fix Maxie, and then we'll blow,' he said. It's time I changed my address. Leave him to me.'
He stood against the wall by the door.
Dedrick faced the door.
There was perhaps a five-minute wait, then a rap came on the door.
'Come in,' Barratt said.
The door pushed open. Maxie came in. His round, fat face was sullen, and his lower lip was pushed out aggressively.
Dedrick kept the .45 down by his side, out of sight.
'Come in and shut the door,' he said.
Maxie gaped at me, changed colour, came into the room and shut the door.
'What goes on here?' he demanded.
Dedrick raised the gun and pointed it at Maxie's paunch.
'Did you give him the passkey?'
Maxie glared at me.
'If he said that, he's lying. What are you pointing that gun at me for? Don't you know it's dangerous?'
'It'll probably be fatal,' Dedrick said, and smiled.
Barratt moved silently up to Maxie and tapped him on the shoulder.
'Hello, little brother,' he said.
Maxie nearly jumped out of his skin.
'Hey! What's the idea? Who's this guy with the gun?' He tried to make his voice sound tough, but his eyes showed alarm. 'Guns ain't allowed in this building. I'll have to report it.'
'I'm afraid you won't have the time,' Barratt said. 'I'm a little sick of you, Maxie. Now Gracie's gone, I think we might get rid of you too.'
Maxie's mouth fell open. He looked with horror first at Dedrick and then at Barratt. Hurriedly he put up his hands.
'I won't make any trouble, Mr. Barratt,' he said. 'You can rely on me...'
He caught his breath in a strangled gasp when he saw the knife in Barratt's hand.
'Sorry, Maxie.' Barratt poked the knife into Maxie's side. 'You've seen too much, and you're too great a nuisance. Go into the bathroom.'
Maxie fell on his knees, his face turning green.
'Don't touch me, Mr. Barratt,' he said between locked teeth.
'I promise you ...'
Barratt clubbed him over the head with the gun-butt, driving him to the floor.
Maxie fell forward on his hands, shaking his head, groaning.
'Give me a hand with him,' Barratt snarled.
Dedrick and he grabbed Maxie and hauled him across the room to a door that led into the bathroom.
As Dedrick released Maxie to open the door, Maxie suddenly stumbled to his feet, hit out at Barratt and made a staggering rush to the door of the apartment.
Barratt swung his gun and clubbed Maxie to his knee again. They dragged him into the bathroom. There was a struggle, and Maxie began to yell. The dull, heavy sound of a blow stopped the yelling. There came a rasping, choking gasp and Dedrick backed out of the bathroom, his face white and set.
The gasping noise continued, making me feel sick. After a while the sound petered out
Barratt appeared in the doorway. He looked at me and showed his teeth.
'It'll be your turn in a little while, my friend,' he said. 'But you won't get it the easy way.' He turned to Dedrick, who was watching him. 'All right, take him away. Careful how you go. If you run into trouble, shoot him.'
'You don't expect me to take him alone, do you?'
'Why not? I've got to get rid of Maxie. We'll have to move.’
'What are you worrying about? Shoot him if he tries anything funny.'
'And get a load of law on my neck.'
'Shoot them too,' Barratt said and laughed.
Dedrick hesitated, then shrugged.
'Better lend me a coat to hide his hands. I'll bring it back when I've planted him.'
Barratt went into the bedroom, came out a moment later, carrying a light overcoat.
Dedrick hauled me to my feet.
'I'll be using your car,' he said. 'One false move, and I'll blast you.'
Barratt draped the coat over my shoulders, and wrapped a silk scarf around my mouth to hide the tape.
'We shan't meet again, Malloy,' he said to me. 'Maybe I'll see you, but you won't see me.' He shoved me towards Dedrick. 'Get going.'
Dedrick took my arm and led me into the passage.
There was no one to see us get into the elevator. When the elevator came to rest at the ground floor, Dedrick dug the gun into my side.
'Don't forget, one false move and you get it,' he said I
could see sweat running down his face.
We walked into the lobby. He shoved me across the stretch of carpet to the front entrance, down the steps to the Buick.
Two girls were walking up the drive. They glanced at us without interest, passed us and entered the lobby.
Dedrick opened the rear door.
'Get in!'
As I bent forward to get in the car, Dedrick smashed his gun butt down on my head.
chapter twenty-nine
My mind came fumbling out of a dark pit. Consciousness returned like a hangover on a foggy morning. First, I became aware of a throbbing pain in my head, then, as I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on my back, the beam of a flashlight playing on my face. I grunted, turned my head and tried to sit up. A hand on my chest shoved me back.
'Stay parked,' Dedrick growled. 'I'm just bedding you down.' His fingers picked the end of the tape loose that bound my mouth. When he had enough purchase, he gave it a quick hard pull, skinning it off my mouth. That hurt, and I grunted again.
The light was bothering me, but the dank, cold air and the darkness beyond the beam of the flashlight bothered me more.
'What's going on?' I growled.
'You'll find out.'
I felt something tight around my waist. Bending my head I could see Dedrick fastening a thick chain, looped round my middle, with a padlock. I looked beyond him at the rough-hewn walls, supported by blackened props of wood.
'Where's this - the mine?' I asked.
'Yeah; a hundred feet below ground.' He snapped the padlock shut and stood away. 'This isn't my idea, Malloy. You heard what he said. I've nothing against you. I'd put a slug through your head if it wasn't for him. He'll come and look at you tomorrow.'
'Is he going to leave me here to starve to death?' I asked, testing the tape that bound my hands. There was no give in it at all.
'You won't starve.' He paused while he lit a cigarette. I saw his hand was unsteady. 'You won't have time to starve.'
'What do you mean?'
'You'll find out. If you give me your word not to start anything until I've gone I'll undo your hands. At least, it'll give you a fighting chance.'
I was beginning to feel spooked.
'If I get my hands free, I'll probably strangle you,' I said 'I scare easy, but not that easy.'
'Don't talk like a fool. You don't know what you're up against. Turn over. I'm going to free your hands.'
I turned over, and he shoved his knee in my back as he pulled the tape loose. He was out of range before I could grab him.
I pushed myself into a sitting position. I couldn't stay upright: the chain holding me was too short, but it was a nice feeling to have free hands again.
'I'll leave you a light,' Dedrick said. ‘That's about the best I can do for you.'
'You have a bad dose of conscience.' As I rubbed my wrists trying to restore the circulation, I stared up at him. 'What's going to happen?'
'I don't know.' He looked down the long tunnel, lifting his torch and throwing the powerful beam into the inky blackness. 'Take a look at that. Your guess is as good as mine.'
The beam of the torch rested on what looked like a heap of rags. I peered at it; saw bits and pieces of what once had been a lounge suit.
'There's a skeleton under those clothes,' Dedrick said, and I heard his breath whistle down his nostrils. 'We left him here for not more than twelve hours, and that's what he turned into: rags and bones, and not a damn thing else.'
'Who is it?' My voice sounded hollow.
'Never mind who it is.'
I decided it couldn't be anyone else but Lute Ferris.
'It's Ferris, isn't it?'
'Just another guy who was a nuisance,' Dedrick said, and wiped his face with his handkerchief. 'Something's eaten him.' He looked uneasily into the darkness. 'There's some kind of animal down here: maybe a lynx.' He took another flashlight from his hip pocket and tossed it to me. That'll keep you company. If you hear Barratt coming, put it out of sight He'd murder me if he knew I'd left you a light.'
'Well, thanks,' I said, and flung the beam of the torch he had given me on to his face. 'Why not go the whole way and let me free? You're hating this, Dedrick. Come on; you might still beat the rap, and if you get me out of this, I'll do what I can for you.'
'Not a chance,' he said. 'You don't know Barratt. He's the last man anyone in their right minds would cross. So long, Malloy. I hope it's quick.'
I sat still, watching the beam of his torch growing smaller and smaller as he walked down the long tunnel. And as the light grew fainter, the darkness around me came down with a choking thickness that brought me out into a cold sweat. I snapped on the torch. The white light sent the heavy, solid blackness back, almost as if it was alive. But it crouched just beyond the beam, waiting to pounce on me again.
My first move was to examine the chain locked around my middle. It was too strong to snap, and the padlock was solid and heavy. I traced the chain to the wall. It was fastened to a staple, embedded in solid rock. I caught hold of the chain in both hands, braced one foot against the wall and strained backwards. Nothing happened. I braced myself again and pulled until my sinews creaked. I might just as well have tried to pull over the Empire State Building.
I flopped back on the rock floor, panting, my heart going like a steam-hammer. If I was to get out of here, somehow or other, I had to work the staple loose. No one would ever think of looking for me here. Paula would go to the apartment house on Jefferson Avenue. She might find Maxie. But that wouldn't get her very far, or me either. She'd go to Mifflin. But what could Mifflin do? Why should anyone look for me in the shaft of a disused, ruined mine?
I was getting into a panic now. It was like being buried alive. My eyes kept going to the heap of tattered clothes lying about ten yards from me: all that remained of Ferris.
There’s some kind of animal down here.
All right, I admit it. I was ready to run whimpering into a corner if I could have run. I was ready to yell for help at the top of my voice if it would have done any good. I've had the shakes more than once in my life, but nothing like the shakes I was getting now.
For about a minute I sat as still as death, getting hold of myself, telling myself not to dive off the deep end, calling myself every insulting name I could think of, while I fought off the panic that sat on my shoulder and leered into my face. I fought it off, but it left me sweating and cold and as limp as a length of boiled string.
I got out my cigarettes, split half of them before I could get my ringers round one of them. I got it alight, and lay back against the wall, drawing in smoke, and blowing it out again while I stared at the white light of the torch that stood between me and the darkness.
I had no idea how long I was going to be down here. The battery wouldn't last much longer than a couple of hours of continuous burning. I'd have to conserve it, even if it did mean sitting in the dark.
I counted my cigarettes. I had seventeen. Even that little red spark could be comforting, and while I smoked the torch would have to go out.
So I put it out.
Back came the choking, heavy darkness so thick I could feel it, and with it came my panic, nudging my elbow, making me sweat again.
I sat there in that awful dank darkness for what seemed an hour, smoking the cigarette, watching the glowing end, concentrating on it and trying to forget the black walls that pressed in on me.
When I couldn't stand it any longer, I switched on the torch. I had sweated right through my clothes, and my watch told me I'd been sitting in the darkness for eight minutes.
I began to get worried then: really worried. If I was ready to walk up a wall after eight minutes of darkness, what would I be like in an hour, a day or even two days?
I put the torch on the floor by my side and laid hold of the chain again. I pulled and jerked at it in a mounting frenzy, until I heard myself yelling curses at it. I stopped that, and sat down again. I felt as if I'd run ten miles; even the muscles in my legs we
re fluttering. Then I heard something.
Up to now the only sound in this old shaft, a hundred feet below ground, had been my breathing, the thump-thump- thump of my heart and the fainter tick of my watch. But now a new sound made me turn my head and look into the darkness.
I listened, holding my breath, my mouth half open, my heart hammering. Nothing. Slowly I reached for the torch, sent the beam down the long tunnel. Still nothing. I turned off the light and waited. Minutes ticked by. Then it came again: a gentle rustle, something moving cautiously, a pebble dislodged: sharp, violent sounds in the silence; sounds that wouldn't have been heard except for the quiet of this shaft where a feather settling on the ground would have been a disturbance.
I touched the button on the torch. The beam cut into the darkness like a razor cutting into flesh.
For a split second I saw something that looked like two glowing sparks: something that could have been the eyes of some animal; then they vanished, and I was struggling up on my knees, leaning forward, peering, trying to see.
You'll find I'm good at paying off old scores. I gave him full marks. Those few seconds were, up to now, about the worst seconds I have ever lived through, and the thought that it wasn't over gave me a sick feeling in my belly. I lit another cigarette, and kept the light on. I decided I'd keep it on until it went out, then I'd make the best of it, but so long as the light was on, I felt pretty sure whatever it was out there in the darkness would keep its distance.
I sat there smoking, listening to the thud of my heart and trying to think how to get the staple out. But my brain felt as if it was wrapped up in cotton wool. My thoughts kept darting into the darkness; useless and frightened.
Then I saw the red embers again; just out of reach of the light of the torch. I didn't move, but kept my eyes on the two fiery beads that hung in the darkness, watching me.
More minutes ticked by. I couldn't make up my mind if they were coming closer or I was imagining it. So I waited, cold, stiff, scared, holding my breath for as long as I could, breathing silently through my open mouth when I had to.
They were coming closer: very cautiously and silently, and something was beginning to take shape. I could make out a ferret-shaped head and the outline of a sleek, round back. Still I didn't move. One of my legs had gone to sleep, but I scarcely noticed it. I wanted to see what I was up against. I hadn't long to wait. Into the beam of the torch moved a rat. Not an ordinary rat, but a monster: a nightmare of a rat, almost as big as a full-grown cat, measuring at a guess over two feet from nose to tail.
1950 - Figure it Out for Yourself Page 15