I Would Rather Stay Poor

by James Hadley Chase

  ‘If he’s to be caught, he’ll get caught,’ Travers said woodenly. ‘I’ll get in touch with you. So long for now and thanks for everything.’

  He went out to the waiting car. Iris looked questioningly at him as he got in beside her.

  ‘That’s number one problem out of the way. He took it all right. Now we’ll go to your home for you to pack a bag. I’ll wait outside. If there’s trouble, you call and I’ll fix it.’

  ‘There won’t be any trouble,’ Iris said.

  Ten minutes later, they pulled up outside the rooming-house.

  ‘Go ahead and pack what you want,’ Travers said. ‘We should be moving in about an hour. If you want me, I’m right here.’

  As Iris entered the hall, she heard music from the TV filling the house. She went quickly up the stairs to her room. Shutting the door, she found a couple of suitcases and hastily began to pack them. This took a little time, but finally she finished. As she was trying to shut the lid of one of the cases, Calvin said, ‘Can I help?’

  She spun around, her heart missing a beat. He was standing in the doorway, watching her, a fixed, ugly grin on his face.

  She backed away as he moved into the room and shut the door.

  ‘Go away!’ she said, terrified. ‘Don’t come near me!’

  ‘What’s all the excitement about?’ he asked mildly. ‘What’s all the packing for? You’re not leaving, are you?’

  ‘I’m leaving with Ken tonight,’ Iris said, trying to steady her voice. ‘He’s outside… waiting for me. Now get out!’

  ‘You have a little job to do for your mother tomorrow. You can’t leave until then.’

  ‘I’m not doing it! Ken knows… get out!’

  Calvin moved to the window and looked down at the waiting car in the drive. A hot, scalding rage ran through him.

  ‘What is he planning… to jail your mother?’ he asked, turning and staring at her.

  ‘He’s resigning from the police. We’re getting married. Please, go away!’

  ‘You mean he isn’t going to do anything about Kit nor me?’

  ‘That’s what I mean.’

  Calvin thought for a long moment, then he switched on his charm.

  ‘Why, that’s wonderful. Maybe it’s better for you two to be out of the way.’ He crossed the room and shut the lid of the suitcase with a squeeze from his powerful fingers. ‘I’ll carry your bags down.’

  Iris didn’t say anything. She watched him pick up the two bags and walk out of the room. For a moment she stood motionless, trying to control the trembling of her body, then she went quickly out of the room and up to Kit’s room. She turned the door handle, but the door was locked.

  ‘Kit… it’s me. I want to talk to you.’

  There was silence.

  She knocked.

  ‘Kit… please… I’m going away: please open up.’

  A loud, drunken voice exclaimed. ‘Oh, go to hell for all I care! Go away and keep away!’

  Iris stepped back, hesitated, then turned and went quickly down the stairs. Calvin was standing in the hall.

  ‘Well, so long,’ he said. ‘Have a nice honeymoon. I won’t embarrass the groom by coming out. You may not think it, but we’ll get away with this. There’s no opposition now. The boy who had me worried was your smart future husband.’

  Iris picked up the two bags and without looking at him, went out to where Travers was impatiently waiting.

  Calvin watched them drive away, then he walked upstairs and into his room. He sat down and lit a cigarette, he was much more confident now. Of course it was tiresome that Iris wasn’t taking the money out, but at least, he now only had an ageing sheriff and that fool Easton to worry about. There must be some way to get the money out. The great thing was he was rid of Travers.

  Around eleven o’clock, he was still sitting, chain-smoking when the communicating door jerked open and Kit came in.

  Calvin looked up.

  Now for another scene, he thought irritably. She’s been howling her eyes out and she’s tight again.

  ‘Where’s Iris gone?’ Kit asked, standing in the doorway.

  ‘While you have been swimming in alcohol,’ Calvin said, stretching out his massive legs, ‘our problems have solved themselves. Iris very sensibly has decided to marry her cop who very sensibly, in view of the circumstances, has decided to resign from the police force. They have gone off together, and I imagine this will be the last time we see them. This is excellent for us because we now have a dotty old sheriff and a F.B.I. agent with stomach ulcers trying to solve the famous bank robbery. The chances of either of them solving it are remote, so for the moment we are sitting pretty.’

  ‘She’s marrying that boy?’ Kit said, coming into the room.

  ‘Why shouldn’t she? He’s smart. If I had a daughter, I’d be glad to see her marry our hero.’

  ‘I owe you something, don’t I?’ Kit said, sitting down and staring at him with hate. ‘How I wish I had never set eyes on you! You’ve spoilt my life. All I hope now is you’ll suffer the way you’ve made me suffer.’

  Calvin stifled a yawn.

  ‘There’s a chance, but I hope not, but life’s damn odd. It catches up with you. Well, could you get over the dramatics? We have business to discuss. I have an idea.’

  ‘I don’t want to listen to any of your ideas!’

  ‘You’ll have to,’ Calvin said. ‘I told you: from now on we’re going to be Siamese twins whether you like it or not. Tomorrow I’m resigning from the bank. At the end of the week we’ll get married and who do you suppose is going to be our best man?’ He grinned at her. ‘This is where I’m playing it smart. Our best man is going to be our old pal, Easton. He’s not only going to give us away, but he’s going to put us on the train to Florida. How’s that for a bright idea? We’ll have him escort us to the train and he won’t stand any nonsense about searching our bags. That guy likes me. I can talk him into anything.’ Calvin’s grin widened. ‘Like it? It’s a winner. In ten days, baby, we’ll be out of here on our way to a spending spree.’

  ‘Suppose I don’t want to do it?’ she said in a low, hesitant voice.

  ‘You haven’t any choice. It’s either my way or you’ll land up before a judge. Come on, snap out of it! We’re going to get away with this… can’t you see? We’re nearly in the clear.’

  ‘But we’ll have to live with ourselves.’

  Calvin leaned back in his chair. He drew in a slow, deep breath of exasperation.

  ‘Just what does that mean?’

  ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ Kit said. ‘I’m only just beginning to understand. We should never have done this thing.’

  ‘That’s a very bright remark. We did it, now we have to take it as it comes. Look, you’re drunk. You leave all this to me. All I ask you to do is to stay sober enough to go through the motions. I’ll fix everything. You do as I tell you. Okay?’

  As she didn’t say anything, Calvin went on, ‘We’ll get a quick sale of this house. I’ll put it in the hands of the agents tomorrow. Better break the news to the old dears. I’ll write to my pal in Florida. I’ll get him to send me a letter offering me a job. That’ll square the bank. We’ll have to get everything fixed as fast as we can. There’s always the chance the top boy will take Easton off the job and put someone on as smart as Travers.’

  Kit got slowly to her feet and walked unsteadily to the door. She paused and stared at Calvin for a long moment. There was an expression in her eyes that sent a sudden feeling of fear and uneasiness through him.

  She turned and still saying nothing, she entered her room and closed the door between them.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  1

  Calvin arrived at the bank early the following morning. He brought with him his hold-all and he parked his car close to the back entrance of the bank. He went immediately to the vault and packed the payroll into the hold-all.

  The sight of the money restored his confidence. He went out the back way and locked the hold-all i
n the boot of his car.

  That was the first step. He was sure he would be safe in moving the money now from the bank to the rooming-house. It was when he attempted to take the money out of Pittsville he would have to watch out.

  He waited until nine o’clock, then he put a telephone call through to Marthy at head office. He explained that his replacement for Alice had suddenly gone off to get married and he needed another assistant in a hurry. Marthy promised to send someone as a temporary help on the next train. Then Calvin told him he had been offered a very good job in Florida. He intended getting married and had decided to give up banking. He said he would be glad if Marthy could release him at the end of the week.

  Marthy immediately made difficulties. He pointed out that Calvin was under contract to the end of the month. The payroll robbery had still to be solved. Joe Lamb was still ill. It would be difficult to replace Calvin.

  Calvin listened to all this with growing impatience.

  ‘Just the same,’ he said when Marthy had concluded, ‘I’m quitting. I’ll be out of here by the end of the week, and I’ll be glad to be shot of this one-eyed bank and this one-horse town. If you think you can stop me, go ahead and try.’

  ‘In that case,’ Marthy said curtly, ‘you will leave tomorrow. I’ll send someone down right away to relieve you,’ and he hung up.

  Calvin dropped the receiver back on the cradle. He lit a cigarette and stared uneasily at the glowing tip. He had now burnt his bridge. He was out of a job. Maybe he shouldn’t have talked that way to Marthy. Then he thought of the three hundred thousand dollars now locked in the boot of the car and he grinned. What was he worrying about? Who wanted to be a bank manager with all that money to spend? He called Easton’s office.

  A girl’s voice answered. There was a slight delay, then Easton came on the line.

  Calvin saw a customer come in. The man waited impatiently to be served. Let him wait, Calvin thought, and asked Easton how he was. He listened to Easton griping about his stomach pains, then he cut in to tell him he was leaving the bank, getting married and going to Florida. He asked Easton if he would be his best man. Easton seemed to hesitate and Calvin wondered if he had rushed this too fast.

  ‘This is pretty sudden, isn’t it?’ Easton said. ‘What’s the idea — going to Florida?’

  ‘A pal of mine runs a restaurant there,’ Calvin said. ‘He wants a partner. It’s an opportunity too good to miss. Kit will come in handy too. Look, I’ve got someone waiting for me. We get married on Saturday. Can I count on you?’

  ‘Why, sure. Why not? Glad to help out.’ Easton didn’t sound glad. He was thinking enviously some people had all the luck. Here was this guy not only marrying a dish like the Loring woman, but getting himself a partnership as well. Talk about luck!

  ‘Fine and thanks,’ Calvin said. ‘See you before then,’ and he hung up.

  He went out and cashed the customer’s cheque. From then on, he was kept busy. It was nearly eleven o’clock when the telephone bell rang. Calvin had two customers to serve and he let the bell ring. He became irritated when the bell continued to ring. Finally, when the customers had gone, he went into his office and snatched up the receiver.

  ‘This is Sheriff Thomson,’ the sheriff said. ‘I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to get an answer.’

  ‘I’m single-handed,’ Calvin snapped. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Could you get down to Bentley’s store right away, Mr. Calvin?’ the sheriff asked. ‘You know where it is? The big store they’re building on Eisenhower Avenue. When I say right away, I mean right away.’

  Calvin thought the sheriff had gone off his head.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he snarled. ‘I don’t close the bank for another hour yet. What do I want with the store?’

  There was a pause, then the sheriff said, ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Calvin, I’m trying to break this gently. There’s trouble down there… Mrs. Loring…’

  Calvin felt as if an iron mailed fist had slammed against his heart. He clutched hold of the telephone receiver so tightly his finger nails turned white.

  ‘Mrs. Loring?’ His voice turned husky. ‘What… what…?’ He made an effort and pulled himself together. He went on, his voice under control, ‘Let’s have it, Sheriff. What’s the trouble?’

  ‘She’s up there on the scaffolding… the part where they’re building. She’s threatening to jump.’

  Cold sweat fell on Calvin’s hand. Threatening to jump! If this rumdum killed herself there was the letter to be opened by her attorney: in the event of my death.

  ‘What are you doing about it?’ he found himself yelling.

  ‘Take it easy. We’re doing all we can, but there isn’t much we can do. The fire brigade is standing by. We’ve got men talking to her, but she won’t listen. I thought maybe you could talk her into some sense.’

  ‘Yeah… how long has this been going on? How long has she been up there?’

  ‘About half an hour. Can you get down here right away, Mr. Calvin?’

  ‘I’m coming,’ Calvin said and slammed down the receiver. He walked quickly out of his office.

  There was a man waiting at the counter: a fat, peevish-looking character who drummed on the counter with well-manicured finger nails,

  ‘How much longer do I have to wait?’ he demanded, ‘I want to cash a cheque.’

  ‘The bank’s shut!’ Calvin said violently. ‘Clear out!’

  The man gaped at him. His fat face fell to pieces at the sight of Calvin’s expression.

  ‘Go on… get out!’ Calvin snarled.

  The man backed away, turned and hurried out of the bank. Calvin shut the doors and locked them. Then he ran out the back way where his car was parked.

  He was thinking: this is it! You were crazy to have hooked up with an alcoholic. Unless I do something, she’ll kill herself, and then I’m finished. I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight! Well, I asked for it and now I’ve got it!

  He climbed into his car and drove the half-mile fast. As he swung into Eisenhower Avenue, he saw the crowd and his heart kicked against his side.

  A policeman waved him to a halt.

  ‘I’ve got to get through,’ Calvin said, leaning out of the car window. ‘Sheriff Thomson wants me to talk to the woman. She’s my fiancée. Get me through, will you?’

  The policeman stared at him, recognised him and then nodded.

  ‘Okay, sir. You keep going slowly. They’ll let you through.’

  He stood back and blew his whistle, motioning to another policeman some way ahead.

  As Calvin edged his way through the crowd, he saw firemen standing by an escape and looking up. He saw men, women and children, with horror on their faces, also looking up. He controlled the impulse to stop the car and look up himself. He edged the car to the second policeman who shoved his way through the crowd towards him, his red face aggressive. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing? Where do you think you’re going?’ he demanded.

  ‘She’s my fiancée,’ Calvin said in a hard, curt voice. ‘They think I can talk her down.’

  The cop’s aggression went away.

  ‘Leave the car,’ he said. ‘You won’t get through this lot in a car. Sheriff Thomson is waiting for you.’

  Calvin got out of the car. At the back of his mind, he remembered there was three hundred thousand dollars locked in the car’s boot. Out of the car, he looked up, following the gaze of some hundreds of people.

  There was a new wing being added to Bentley’s store. The new wing consisted only of scaffolding and steel piping. Out on this skeleton foundation, some two hundred feet above the street was Kit. She was wedged in between the apex of a triangle formed by some of the steel poles. Her feet, one in front of the other, rested on one slim pole. A false move would send her down a long drop to death.

  Calvin became rooted as he stared up at the distant figure. Kit was wearing slacks and a leather windcheater. She was smoking and seemed completely indifferent to the people staring up at he
r.

  ‘There you are,’ a voice said and a hand gripped Calvin’s arm. With an effort he dragged his eyes from the perilously perched figure and stared blankly at Sheriff Thomson. ‘She’s in a bad way,’ the sheriff went on. ‘We’ve been up there, but when we get within fifty feet of her, she threatens to jump. Think you can do anything?’

  Aware now everyone was staring at him, Calvin said, ‘I don’t know. I’ll try. She’s drunk, of course.’

  The sheriff pulled at his moustache.

  ‘How she managed to get out there without falling beats me. Working from where she is, the boys get taken up in a crane bucket. She just walked out there as if it was the sidewalk.’

  ‘Can you get me up in the bucket?’ Calvin asked.

  ‘Sure. Maybe if she sees you, she’ll let you get her in, but watch it — she’s jumpy.’

  They forced their way through the crowd until they reached the crane bucket. They paused by the bucket to look up. Kit flicked her cigarette butt into the air. They watched the tiny white end come spiralling down to the ground. It seemed to take a long time before the crowd parted slightly to let it fall on the sidewalk. A souvenir hunter pounced on it.

  ‘You okay for heights?’ the sheriff asked looking at Calvin’s white face. ‘Better not go up there if you’re not. It’s a long way up.’

  Calvin climbed into the bucket, ‘I’m all right,’ he said. ‘Just get me up there.’

  ‘Don’t look down and don’t lean your weight on the sides… it could tip. Good luck,’ and the sheriff signalled to the crane driver who was perched even higher than Kit in his small, glassed cabin.

  As the bucket moved slowly upwards, the crowd gave a great sigh of excitement. They looked from Calvin, standing in the bucket and then to Kit who was watching him as he was lifted towards her.

  The crane driver took him up gradually. Finally, Calvin swung exactly opposite Kit. They were within twenty feet of each other.

  Because of the steel scaffolding, it wasn’t possible for the crane driver to get Calvin closer. Calvin, gripping the edge of the iron bucket, was sickeningly aware of the awful drop below.