“I didn’t kill him.”
“I never thought you did.”
For some reason, I found the fact this young girl believed me reassuring. Now if I could just get Mary to believe in me again.
We were still sitting there, smoking, when Ed walked into the club fifteen minutes later. He was carrying a bag and he tossed it onto the table in front of me. “Clean slacks, shirt, and a razor.”
“How’d you know I was here?”
“I called him,” Alice said.
“I phoned her this morning after I read the paper and asked her to keep an eye out for you. I figured you’d show up either here or at my house.”
“I hope the cops don’t think like you do,” I said.
Ed looked toward the door. “They’ve got a flatfoot out front watching the place, but I doubt he saw me enter the building. Why don’t you get cleaned up and we’ll figure out how we’re going to get you out of town.”
“I’m not leaving town.”
“You don’t seem to have much choice,” Ed said.
“His girlfriend convinced him to turn himself over to the D.A.,” Alice said.
Ed pulled the chair out across from me and sat down. “Not a good idea, Jim.”
“Mary thinks I can beat the rap. I’ve got a lot of evidence to back up my story.”
“Even if you can prove you didn’t kill Helen, Boyle swears you killed Belcher.”
“I have an alibi.”
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place? Where were you?”
“I spent the night with Mary. She can vouch for me.” I glanced at Alice and watched her face fall.
“That might help if it ever gets to trial. Some copper’s liable to shoot you first.”
“Where would I go, Ed? South America? I don’t speak the language. Don’t have a desire to learn it either. I’ve got to let Mary give it a try.”
“I still think you should make other plans.”
I grabbed the bag Ed had brought me. “If Mary can’t sway the D.A., I’ll consider any other option. But not until Mary gets back here and tells me she failed.”
There was a bathroom and a shower upstairs for the girls who rented the rooms from Ed. I showered, shaved, and took the back stairway leading directly to Ed’s office. Ed joined me ten minutes later.
“Do it now, Joe,” he called out before shutting the door and locking it. Ten seconds later a buzzer went off beneath the desk.
“What’s this all about?” I asked.
“Some habits never die,” Ed said. “When I ran the speaks, there were buzzers connected to the office and my apartment so the bartenders could let me know if the coppers were raiding the place.”
I’d witnessed several of those raids, both the planned ones and the surprise visits. “I remember.”
“Well when I set this place up I went a step further.” Ed crossed the room and stopped in front of the picture of the four naked women hanging behind his desk. He reached up and pushed the bottom of the frame to the right. There was a loud click and a piece of the paneling pulled away from the rest of the wall.
Ed ran the fingers of his right hand around the corner of the panel. He tugged at it and the panel swung open to reveal a small room. Ed switched on a light, and waved me over. The room was about eight feet by eight feet, not much bigger than a jail cell. I was glad to see there were two comfortable looking chairs set along the back wall. The furnishings gave the room a homey look and made me feel a little less claustrophobic. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a small, round wooden table placed between the chairs. A pile of books sat on the table, along with a clock, and a phone.
I followed Ed into the room. “I got a feeling you’re going to need this place.” He grabbed hold of a large metal ring on the panel and pulled the door shut. “If you turn this latch clockwise the door can’t be opened from the other side without a key.”
I looked around and whistled. “I never suspected.”
“I’ve been a little paranoid ever since my dad got whacked. I wanted someplace where I could hole up if I needed to. Joe’s the only other person who knows about this room.”
I nodded toward the closed panel. “There’s no other way out of here?”
“No. I can hide you if the coppers show up, but I can’t get you out if they decide to stick around.”
“You really think they’re going to raid your place looking for me?”
“I do. I was listening to the news on the radio. A reporter asked Boyle if he saw you shoot Belcher. Boyle swears you called and offered to give yourself up. He claims that when they reached the meeting place, you shot Belcher and tried to kill him too. He says he got off a couple of shots, but he missed you.
“Coppers are swarming the city trying to find you. They’re going to shoot first and ask questions later. Boyle knows we’re friends, and they’ll come here looking for you. I’d bet the club on it.”
“But I was with Mary all night. I haven’t seen Boyle in two days.”
“Let’s hope Mary can convince her friend the D.A. In the meantime, you better stay in the office. When the coppers get here you high tail it into this room. I’ll lock the office when I leave it, and I’ll take my time opening it when they get here. Remember to throw the inner lock when you close the door. When I want to come in, I’ll knock three times, count to ten, and knock three times again.”
***
They came for me a little after eight. I was dozing in Ed’s chair when the buzzer sounded. I sat behind the desk for several moments trying to figure out what was going on. By the time I got my ass in gear I could hear dozens of footsteps on the stairway that ran behind the hidden room. This was followed by the clomping of men going through the rooms above me.
It took me two tries to get the hidden door to open. I heard voices outside of the office, then the sound of the key slipping into the lock. I’d barely closed the door and had not yet thrown the lock when I heard voices in the office. I didn’t dare latch the door or move around. I was afraid that if I could hear them, they could hear me. I leaned my ear against the wall and listened.
“Where is he, Granger?” a familiar voice asked. I was pretty sure it was Boyle, and I realized I didn’t just dislike the man, I hated him. He’d ruined my life and I wanted to throttle him for everything he’d put me through.
“I told you he wasn’t here,” Ed said. “I haven’t seen him in a couple of days.”
“I don’t believe you,” Boyle said. “Maybe I should haul you down to the station and sweat Locke’s location out of you. I’d like to get hold of that lawyer dame of his too. She needs a little slapping around.”
“Get out of my office,” Ed said. “And keep your hands off the girl.”
I balled my hands into fists and fought the urge to throw open the door and pounce on him. But after everything Ed and Mary had done for me, it didn’t make sense for me to get arrested. Besides, Ed could handle himself and I knew he’d look after Mary for me.
I heard the outer door slam closed and I figured it was Ed’s way of letting me know they had left the office. I locked the door in case Boyle returned, and sidled over to the chairs. I felt terrible, about involving Ed and Mary in my problems, and about my sister.
Helen would have chided me for letting this whole murder rap thing get to me. She often accused me of being self-deprecating, of giving up on myself too soon. I think her belief in me was one of the things I missed most during the year she cut me out of her life. Maybe if I’d had more faith in myself we could have worked out our problems. Maybe I could have saved her, thereby saving myself. Then again, I thought, maybe not.
An hour later, Ed knocked on the door. I jumped and willed my heart to stop racing as I hurried across the room to let him in. When he entered, I realized I was holding my breath and I let out a sigh of relief.
He wore a satisfied smirk on his face and carried a glass of beer in his hand. “I understand this is all you’re drinking now,” he said.
&n
bsp; He offered me the glass and I took it, draining it in three thirsty swallows. “Thanks.” I handed him the empty glass.
“Your girlfriend came in a little while ago.”
I tried to push past him, but Ed put a hand on my arm. “You can’t go out there.”
“I heard Boyle’s threats. I need to warn her.”
“There are at least two plainclothes men out there drinking and hoping you’ll come walking in.”
“Bring Mary here.”
“Not a good idea, Jim. These coppers aren’t dumb. They’re gonna know something’s up if I bring her into my office. And if I stick her in here with you, they’re going to want to know where she disappeared to. I’ll tell her to watch out for Boyle.”
What he said made sense. “You shouldn’t take him lightly either,” I said. “Did Mary tell you what the D.A. said?”
“We talked for a sec. She said since Boyle’s been all over the airwaves telling his story, the coppers are on a rampage. The D.A. can’t guarantee your safety. I got the feeling he wasn’t too happy when Mary told him she spent the night with you. Right now you’re going to have to sit and wait. Read a book or something. I’m going to close up and kick everyone who doesn’t know about you out at twelve. I’ll make sure she sticks around”
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Ed said. “Make sure you lock up when I leave.”
I waited until the door closed behind Ed, threw the latch, and wandered over to the chairs. I didn’t think I could sit still for the next three hours, let alone read, but I glanced at the titles anyway.
I wasn’t surprised they were all mysteries of one sort or another; it fit Ed’s dark side. I’d already read The Postman Always Rings Twice, by James Cain, and had no interest in Wodehouse’s Thank You, Jeeves. Since it was all that was left, I picked up Murder on the Orient Express and opened it.
I’d never read a book by Agatha Christie and I was a little surprised to find it in Ed’s hide-a-way. I had him pegged for something more like Yeats or Fitzgerald. I looked at the first page, but I couldn’t concentrate and I tossed it on the table.
Jumping from the chair, I began pacing back and forth across the small room. I was tired of running ten yards forward for a first down, and then being pushed back fifteen yards as penalty for a foul I hadn’t committed.
I couldn’t understand why Boyle was trying to pin Helen’s murder on me and frame me for Belcher’s death. Maybe Mary was right and Boyle killed Helen, but I didn’t think so. I was still willing to bet on Greeley. It was becoming obvious to me that if I didn’t take a more aggressive approach to proving the doctor’s guilt, I was a dead man. By the time Ed knocked on the door to let me know I could open up, I’d come up with a plan. Not necessarily a good plan, but a plan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Mary, Alice, and Joe were seated around a table when Ed and I walked into the main room of the club. The lights were low, a cloud of cigarette smoke hung over the group, and a dozen empty glasses were lined up in the center of the table like glass tombstones.
When they saw me, Alice smiled and Mary jumped up and ran over to me. She gave me a hug and then slapped both hands against my chest and pushed me away. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“It’s a long story.” I reached for her, but she spun away and strutted over to the table like an angry peacock. She threw herself into the chair, crossed her arms, and told me with her eyes that she expected an answer. This wasn’t the Mary I used to know. This Mary liked calling the shots and was unhappy when she didn’t get her way.
“I’ve got all night,” she said.
“Mind if I get a beer first?”
She held steadfast, intensified the look, and I hoped she wouldn’t stay mad for long.
I grabbed the beer and when I joined them at the table Joe tipped his glass to me. “I want you to know I don’t believe a damn thing the papers are saying about you.”
“Thanks.” I looked at Alice and added, “You too.”
“What did she do?” Mary asked.
“She believed in me. Just like you and Ed and Joe did. Now what happened with the D.A.?”
“You first,” she said.
I hesitated, and Ed nodded. “Ed has a secret room behind one wall of his office. He hid me there all evening.”
Mary turned her ire toward Ed. “You could have told me when I asked you where he was.”
“You would have wanted to go to him.”
“I had information to share.”
“I figured the coppers would be a little suspicious if you walked into the office and disappeared. Now would be a good time to tell all of us what the D.A. said.”
Mary stared at her fingernails and refused to meet my gaze. I felt an unexpected sinking feeling deep in my stomach, like I’d been sucker punched.
“When you left here you seemed pretty sure you could convince him I was innocent,” I reminded her. “Did you stop and collect the newspaper clippings from Otis?”
“Of course I did.” Mary began picking at the polish on one of her nails, still avoiding eye contact. “I showed him everything Otis gave me. I laid out your defense step by step. I even told him what Ila Quinn said to the detective in Boston. He told me none of it mattered.”
“How can that be?” Ed beat me to the question.
Mary stiffened and her voice took on an edge. “Boyle swears he saw you kill Belcher. Says you tried to kill him too.”
“You know where I was.”
“I told Jeffrey.” She shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d done. “He stomped around the room and called me every evil name he could think of. When he calmed down, he ordered me to leave. I was a little frightened by then, so I gathered up all the evidence and got the hell out of there.
“As I was walking out the door, he said to tell you that if you’ll give yourself up he’ll make sure the police don’t kill you.”
“How’s he going to manage that?” I asked.
“He said he’d guarantee you get the chair and let Boyle witness your execution.”
Mary picked up a half-full glass of amber liquid and downed it. Whatever she was drinking hit her hard. Tears welled in her eyes, her face puckered, and a bead of sweat broke out along her forehead. She held the glass toward Ed. “I could use another one of these.”
Ed shot me a look and I shook my head no. “You’ve had enough.”
Mary slammed her glass down on the table hard enough to rattle all the other glasses. “What gives you the right to tell me when I can drink and when I can’t.”
“I don’t have any rights, but I need your help. I’d prefer you keep a clear head at least for the time being.” I reached out and took her hand and was surprised she didn’t pull it away. “You can’t help me if you’re drunk. I’d hoped Henning would listen to you and realize I was innocent.”
“I think I made a mistake by going to see him.” Mary took a silk handkerchief from her purse and touched it to her eyes. I wished we could return to the previous night when we’d made love, oblivious to what this day held for us.
“You seemed so sure,” I said.
“I didn’t expect him to be jealous.”
“Jealous of what?” Ed asked.
“She was engaged to Henning,” I told him, then said to Mary, “I thought you said your relationship ended months ago.”
“Well, he seemed to be working under the impression we were just taking a break from each other.”
Ed reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick envelope, which he held out to me. “I guess it’s settled.”
My eyes drifted to the package. “What’s this?”
“Two thousand bucks and a ticket for a stateroom on the Island Queen. She leaves tomorrow for Venezuela.”
I was moved by his generosity, but I shook my head. “I can’t take it, Ed.”
Ed tossed the envelope on the table in front of me. “Consider it a loan. Pay i
t back when you get settled in down there.”
I shoved the envelope away, as if it had bitten me. “I told you I wasn’t leaving the country. I won’t spend the rest of my life on the run.”
“I could meet you there,” Mary said.
“You couldn’t live in South America any more than I could.”
“I can adapt to anything,” she said. “I don’t want you dead.”
“You don’t have to adapt to a new country. One way or the other, I’m gonna beat this rap.” I wished I could make the doubt in her eyes go away. I squeezed her hand and scooted my chair a little closer to hers.
“I hope you’ve got an alternative plan,” Ed said. “Something that might keep you alive.”
“I’m going to Key West,” I said. “It’s where Hank Greeley’s headed.”
Ed smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead. “I forgot about the ticket we found in that damn book. But I don’t understand how following Greeley to Florida is gonna help.”
I explained to the others about finding the copy of The Sun Also Rises among Helen’s things with the words, LIAR—LIAR—LIAR scribbled across Hemingway’s note to Greeley.
“Which doesn’t prove a damn thing,” Ed was quick to point out.
“Still, I’d bet the entire two thousand you’re willing to lend me that Greeley’s going to try and kill Ernest Hemingway. I’m hoping to stop him and force him to confess that he killed Helen.”
“How are you planning to do that?” Mary asked.
“I won’t know until I get there. If I have to, I’ll beat a confession out of him.”
Joe laughed. “You don’t have it in you,” he said.
I didn’t argue the point, but Joe was dead wrong. Maybe I couldn’t have done it two weeks ago, but my whole outlook on life had taken a dramatic change for the worse. “I don’t have much choice,” I said. “It’s beginning to look like the only way I can clear myself is if Greeley confesses.”
“What about Belcher?” Mary asked.
“I need to take things one at a time. First Greeley, then Belcher. It’s the only way I can hang onto my sanity.”
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