1976 - Do Me a Favour Drop Dead

by James Hadley Chase

  ‘These estate agents!’ I made a gesture of disgust. ‘They told me the place was for rent.’

  ‘She’s never rented it.’ The fat woman shook her head. ‘It’s stood empty for three years. Then suddenly she arrives with her fancy man . . . a couple of days ago.’

  My heart skipped a beat.

  Keeping my voice steady, I said, ‘Maybe she’s getting it ready to rent.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’ She lit another cigarette. ‘This is a respectable street, mister. None of us living here need a couple like them shacking up together. It’s disgraceful!’

  ‘At the end of the road? While I’m here, I may as well ask her. She could be thinking of renting.’

  ‘You got kids, mister?’

  ‘A boy and a girl,’ I lied.

  ‘Then you go along and talk to her. We could do with a few kids on this street. We’re all old people . . . good for nothing. I’d rather have kids here than her and her fancy man.’

  ‘I can but ask. Thanks for your help.’

  ‘I wish you luck. What did you say your name was?’

  ‘Lucas. . . Harry Lucas.’

  ‘I’m Emma Brody. If you get fixed up tell your wife to drop in and see me.’ Nodding, she plodded back to her house.

  I waited until she had shut the front door, then turning, I walked back to the end of the road. I found a narrow dirt road between two bungalows as she had said. The road was just wide enough between the hedges of the two bungalows to take a car.

  For a long moment I hesitated. If I walked up there and Beth or Ross or both of them came driving down, I would be trapped, but I didn’t hesitate for long. I went up the road fast, half running. There was no street lighting but the road was moonlit. It curved suddenly and I saw the bungalow set in a small garden and there was a lighted sign on the gate: Apple Trees.

  Light showed behind red curtains and a TV set was blasting.

  There was a carport. I could see a car which looked like a convertible two-seater parked there.

  I stood at the gate looking at the bungalow. It was L-shaped.

  Probably it had three bedrooms and a big living room. As I stood there I saw a shadow cross the curtains. I would know that thin outline anywhere . . . Beth!

  I lifted the gate latch and pushing the gate open I walked across the grass to the bungalow. The windows were open and some pop singer was yelling his head off.

  I moved close to the window and waited.

  The yelling went on for some ten minutes, then suddenly the set was snapped off.

  ‘If I hear any more of this crap I’ll go out of my mind!’

  The sound of Ross’s snarling voice made me stiffen.

  ‘Try another station, darling,’ Beth said. She had never called me that. ‘The fights will be on in half an hour.’

  ‘Who the hell cares about those bums?’ Ross demanded. ‘Hell! I’m getting sick of living in this crummy hole. All these old fossils staring at us and gossiping. I want out!’

  ‘But we must wait, darling. I’ve told you that. The money won’t come to me for another two weeks.’

  ‘Two weeks! I’m not staying here for two weeks! You’ll be getting the money for the house, won’t you? Let’s take an apartment . . . something with class.’

  ‘Don’t you really like it here, honey? I was born here. I look on it as my real and only home.’ There was a pleading note in her voice.

  ‘Oh God! Don’t start that again!’ He sounded savage. ‘We’re at last in the money! We’re not going to live in a two bit bungalow. You talk to that crumb Bernstein. Tell him you want action!’

  ‘He mustn’t know about you yet, darling. He’s smart. I don t want him to get ideas.’

  ‘So, okay, he’s smart, but tell him you want a big advance then let’s get out of Frisco. We could go to Miami and lose ourselves. Once we get the money, we get lost.’

  ‘I’ve always wanted to settle in Frisco.’

  ‘Forget it! You’ll love Miami and we’re away from gossip.’

  ‘All right, honey, anything you say.’

  ‘That’s it . . . anything I say. Come here.’

  I stepped back and moved quietly back to the gate.

  A revealing conversation. It told me she was hooked and that was all I wanted to know. It also told me she wouldn’t have the money for another two weeks. I could wait. In the meantime I would have to buy a gun.

  Having spent a restless night at the motel and eaten a badly cooked breakfast, I called my bank at Wicksteed and checked that Bernstein had deposited the $700 he owed me to my credit. He had. I told the clerk to have the amount credited to the Chase National branch which was right by the motel. He said he would do it right away. I then went across to the Chase National and opened an account with them, telling them of the deposit on the way.

  I was now worth $1700 and that would be plenty for the time being. I then drove down town. After looking around, I went in to a big pawnshop and told the clerk I wanted to buy a handgun.

  There was no problem about that. He offered a Smith & Wesson, a Browning .32 and a Mauser 7.63. I chose the Mauser because it looked impressive and was a top class engineering job with a detachable shoulder holster and it also looked menacing. He sold me a box of twenty-five slugs. Then regarding me, he said I would need a police permit. I got the idea he was registering my face in his mind. That I had to expect. I said I’d go around to the station house right away. I gave him a fictitious name and address, signed a form and that was that.

  During my service in Vietnam I had learned how to handle firearms. The Mauser held no mysteries for me.

  Putting the gun in my glove compartment, I then drove out towards Orchard Avenue. On the way up the previous night I had spotted a real estate agent’s office. Reaching it, I parked and walked into a small office where a bald, fat man sat behind a shabby desk, twiddling his thumbs and staring into space. He showed me yellow teeth, got up, waved me to a chair and asked what he could do for me.

  I said I was interested in buying or renting a property on Orchard Avenue. He looked sad, shook his head and said no houses on Orchard Avenue were available, but he had some nice properties. . .

  I interrupted him, saying I fancied Orchard Avenue and that’s where I wanted a house.

  ‘Well, it depends on how long you can wait. They are old people up there and they pass on from time to time. You never know. An old lady died last year and the house was snapped up by another old lady. It is a matter of time.’

  ‘I can wait,’ I said. ‘I’ve still to sell my house in L.A. Right now I have a job here. Is there a chance of getting a furnished room on Orchard Avenue while I wait?’

  He found a pin behind his coat lapel and began to explore his yellow teeth while he thought.

  ‘Maybe,’ he said finally. ‘Mrs. Emma Brody might take in a lodger. I’ve known her for years. She lost her husband not so long ago. She might be interested. Why not try her?’

  ‘You wouldn’t have a plan of the estate, would you?’

  He dug into a file and gave me a plan. I asked him to locate Mrs. Brady’s house. He marked it with a pencil.

  ‘What’s this house here?’ I asked, pointing to Apple Trees.

  ‘Not for sale. I’ve tried dozens of times to get the owner to part: no soap.’

  I was examining the plan. I could see from Mrs. Brody’s rear windows, she would have a direct view of Beth’s place.

  It would seem the cards were falling my way. I thanked him, said I would call on Mrs. Brody and should I mention his name? He shook his head sadly, said he just wanted to be helpful. Rentals were more bother than they were worth.

  After shaking hands with him, I left him twiddling his thumbs and drove up to Orchard avenue. I parked outside Mrs. Brody’s house and rang the doorbell.

  She came to the door, a cigarette dangling from her lips.

  I explained who I was and she recognized me. Her fat, friendly face lit up.

  ‘Apple Trees isn’t for rent,’ I s
aid, ‘but the agent said property does come up for sale from time to time and I can wait. I like it here. He said you might have a room to rent. I’m working on a computer system and need quiet. Would you consider renting me a room?’

  Again there was no problem. She wanted me to have the best bedroom overlooking the street, but I said I wanted quiet, so she showed me the back bedroom which was small, but comfortably furnished. I looked out of the window: a little more than a hundred yards away, I could see Apple Trees.

  We made terms and I said I would move in that afternoon.

  She said if I wanted meals she would be happy to oblige. As I intended to keep a twenty-four hour watch on the bungalow I wouldn’t want to go out so I arranged with her to supply two simple meals a day.

  Leaving her, I drove back to the motel, checked out, then going to another pawnshop, I bought a pair of powerful field glasses and a portable typewriter. Then from a nearby store I bought a pack of typing paper and a couple of notebooks. I wanted to look convincing when Mrs. Brody cleaned my room.

  I had lunch and then moved into my room. Mrs. Brody gave me a key. She seemed inclined to gossip, but I cut her short, saying I had to start work right away.

  ‘If you want to see some TV while you’re here, you come down. I like a bit of company.’

  I thanked her and went up to the room, shut and locked the door, pulled up a chair and getting out the field glasses, I focussed them on Apple Trees.

  So began a four day and half the night’s vigil. After three days, I got the pattern of the way Beth and Ross lived.

  Around ten o’clock, Ross went off in the car. Soon after eleven, Beth, carrying a shopping bag, left the house and went away on a motor scooter. She got back around 12.45. Ross didn’t show up until 18.00. From time to time I got a good view of them at the window. They didn’t go out in the evening, but settled down to watching the tube.

  It seemed to me a dull kind of life considering the money she was worth until I realized they were afraid to be seen together in the city. They could run into Bernstein who was sharp enough to recognize Ross, having seen him at the inquest and at the funeral.

  Mrs. Brody provided adequate meals. I did a little typing to convince her I was working. Fortunately, she was often out visiting neighbours. On the fourth morning, as she was cleaning my room, she said I should go out and get some fresh air.

  I said my work was urgent and I was a night bird.

  ‘I take a walk when you are in bed. You don’t have to worry about me.’

  For the next six days, I watched, and finally, I was satisfied that Beth was always alone from 13.00 to 18.00. I decided it was time to make my first move.

  So that afternoon, just after 14.00, I went to my parked VW, got the Mauser from the glove compartment, stuck it in my waist band and then wandered up the street and up the dirt road to Apple Trees.

  Beth was in the garden, on her knees, weeding the rose bed. I approached her silently over the grass and she wasn’t aware of me until my long shadow fell before her.

  She remained motionless for a brief moment, then quickly looked over her shoulder.

  We looked at each other and I wondered how I could have ever been so infatuated with her. The sight of her hard, mask-like face, her remote eyes and the hard set of her mouth now sickened me.

  ‘Hello, Beth,’ I said quietly. ‘Remember me?’

  She stood up slowly and faced me, I had given her a hell of a shock, but it scarcely showed.

  ‘What do you want?’ Her voice hard and cold.

  ‘Let’s go inside and talk,’ I said.

  ‘Get out!’ She spat the words at me.

  ‘Just a short talk, Beth. It would be better for you and for Ross.’

  I saw her flinch. So Mario had been right. She was still hooked.

  ‘I’ve nothing to say to you.’ There was no conviction in her voice. ‘Get out!’

  I started towards the bungalow, and after hesitating, she came after me. We went inside and I found my way into the big living room. It was a nice room, well-furnished and homely.

  As she moved past me, I closed the door and leaned against it.

  ‘I want my half share of Frank’s money,’ I said.

  Her hands closed into fists and her dark eyes glittered.

  ‘Try and get it!’

  ‘I said I would keep it short, so I’ll keep it short.’ I pulled the Mauser from my belt and showed it to her.

  Her eyes widened and she took a step back.

  ‘Relax, Beth. You don’t have to worry about yourself. This gun has a magazine of ten bullets. Not one of them is intended for you, but all ten of them are reserved for Ross unless you part with five hundred thousand dollars.’

  Her mouth twitched.

  ‘You get nothing from me, you cheap bluffer!’

  ‘Don’t make that mistake, Beth. I’m not bluffing. A half a million isn’t something I bluff about. Having killed one man, another means nothing to me. I’m telling you, unless I get my share by the end of the month, Ross will get ten slugs in his gut. There’s nothing to stop me. You can’t go to the police for protection. They would ask questions and that’s something you don’t want. It could take me a little time to set him up, but I’ll get him and there’s nothing you nor he can do about it. I know his routine. I’m having him watched. If he tries to skip, I’ll go after him. You either part with my share or he dies. Please yourself. I’ve been watching you two for two days. I know he wants you to go with him to Miami. You would be surprised how much I do know about you both. I’ll give you to the end of this week, then I’ll telephone you. You either say yes or no. That’s up to you. If you say yes, I’ll arrange how you pay me the money. If you say no, then Ross is as good as dead with his guts blown to hell.’

  Without looking at her, I opened the door, stepped out into the hall, then walked without hurrying down the garden path, on to the dirt road and back to Mrs. Brody’s house.

  Now it was up to her and as sure as I was feeling the hot sun on my back, I would kill Ross if she didn’t play.

  Back in my room, I sat down, lit a cigarette, and took stock.

  Beth now knew she was no longer dealing with a sucker. I had put my cards on the table: pay up or you lose your boyfriend. Knowing her, I was sure she wouldn’t part with five hundred thousand dollars without a fight. But what would she do?

  I tried to put myself in her place and to think as she must be thinking now. Would she tell Ross? If she did, how would Ross react? He was a tough, ex-cop, but he could have a yellow streak. He couldn’t run to the Frisco cops to help him. They would want to know what it was all about and he was in no position to answer probing questions.

  After some thought, it seemed to me, Beth and he had only two alternatives: to pay up or to kill me before I killed him.

  If Ross was a killer, why hadn’t he murdered Marshall instead of dragging me into the act as their cat’s paw? It was possible he hadn’t the guts to kill, but I knew she had. Still, I warned myself, I mustn’t underestimate Ross. He could turn killer to keep that money.

  I had told her I was having him watched. Would they believe that? The fact that I had told her I knew they were planning to go to Miami must have made an impact. Suppose they decided to make a run for it . . . leave in the middle of the night and vanish? Maybe they would decide the risk was too great. They couldn’t be sure I wasn’t watching and Ross could walk into a bullet.

  Suppose Ross decided to hunt for me? They might guess I was somewhere on this estate. I was pretty sure Mrs. Brody had told her neighbours she had a lodger. Was Ross in the position to make inquiries? I thought not. According to Mrs. Brody and what he had said, no one on the estate approved of Beth nor of Ross. No one was friendly with them, but there were people like the milkman, the postman and the newsboy. Mrs. Brody might talk to them and Ross, with his police training, might learn from them about Mrs. Brody’s new lodger.

  If they guessed I was holed up in the small back room, watching them, what cou
ld they do about it? Would Ross, with a gun, break in one night? He just might, but I had a gun too and he now knew it. Would he have the guts? If he chickened out, how about Beth? She might.

  Getting up, I examined the door of my bedroom. It was solid and had an old fashioned mortice lock. Neither Beth nor Ross could take me by surprise and if they tried to, it would end in a shootout with Mrs. Brody screaming for the police. I decided as long as I remained in the room, I was safe. I had another five days to the end of the week. I could stay in this room for five days with no sweat.

  Because I was sure there would be no action until Ross returned at 18.00, I lay on the bed and took a nap. For all I knew I might have to sit up all the night.

  I didn’t wake up until Mrs. Brody came tapping on the door with my dinner at 19.15.

  Cursing myself for over sleeping, I let Mrs. Brody in.

  ‘I guess I was taking a nap,’ I said as she put down the tray.

  ‘Just cold cuts tonight, but there’s a nice salad,’ she said. ‘I’m going to the movies.’

  ‘That’s fine. Have a good time.’

  ‘If you want to watch TV, you’re welcome.’

  ‘Not tonight, thanks.’

  When she had gone, I went over to the window and took up the field glasses. Although it was still light, the red curtains were drawn. I would have given a lot to know what was going on in that big comfortable room. Had Beth told him?

  I hurriedly ate the meal. As I finished I heard the front door slam. I sat down and watched the red curtains. When it grew dark, the lights behind the curtains went on. I watched for the next three hours, but nothing happened. Around 22.30, I heard Mrs. Brody come in and go to her room. I stayed watching Apple Trees until the lights went out in the living room and came up in one of the bedrooms.

  Then unlocking my door, I went silently down to the living room. I had already got Beth’s telephone number from the book and I dialled the number.

  There was a long delay, then she said, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘I’m watching the end of your lane, Beth,’ I said. ‘Sleep well,’ and I hung up.

  If that didn’t stick, nothing would, so I returned to my room and went to bed.