1951 - In a Vain Shadow

by James Hadley Chase

  ‘Don’t do that. If he thinks for a moment we’ve been looking, he’ll move it.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  I stood back.

  ‘There’s a lot of stuff to be shifted out of here before we can get a good look at the floor: a week’s hard work.’

  ‘We’ll have plenty of time - when he’s gone.’

  Getting rid of him was all she was worrying about. ‘Yes. Well, all right. If you’re sure he’s buried it here there’s nothing we can do until we can clear the place. Come on, let’s have a drink.’

  As she moved with me to the door. I went on, ‘You are sure about it aren’t you?’

  ‘He shut himself up for a couple of hours in here. He had tools with him. When he came out there was soil on his shoes and he looked tired He had been burying something. What else could it be?’

  ‘It certainly looks like it. You didn’t see him take anything in with him; besides the tools, I mean?’

  For a fraction of a second she hesitated ‘I can’t be sure, but I think he had something bulky under his coat.’

  I hid a grin. Her lies were as convincing as a politician’s smile.

  Rain ran down the bedroom window and the wind slammed against the side of the house and shook the yew trees, making them creak.

  I lay full length on the bed, a cigarette burning between my fingers while my mind grappled with the problem.

  After lunch I had told her I was going to give the situation a little thought and I wanted to be alone.

  ‘The sooner the better, Frank.’

  ‘I know, but I’m not rushing into anything. I’ve told you: it’s got to be foolproof or I don’t touch it.’

  ‘Think about it.’

  Well, I was thinking about it.

  I had to decide whether or not she was lying about the money. I knew for certain Sarek had a hold on her, and she wanted to shut his mouth for good, but I had only her word that he had this money. Was she dangling the money before me as a bait to kill him for her? That was what I had to decide.

  Assuming he had the money, where was it hidden? I was certain it wasn’t in the barn. Where else could it be? In the house? I had already searched the place carefully when they had been in Paris, and had found nothing except the typewriter and her letters. It didn’t seem likely he would hide all that money in the house where she might come on it accidentally.

  Where else then? In his office? That was possible, but he had no safe, and was he likely to leave it there when the building was empty during the night and might catch fire? Would he take that risk? I wouldn’t, and he was a lot more cautious than I. Was Emmie looking after it? I didn’t think so. Rita had been right when she said no one was to be trusted with an amount as big as that. In the car? No, that wouldn’t be safe either. Cars have accidents. Where else then?

  I lit another cigarette and scowled up at the ceiling. What evidence had I that would convince me, no matter where it was hidden, that he owned all that money? It wasn’t impossible. He was a racketeer, and worked in the black market. He would need large sums in cash for his business transactions. The racketeers I had read about in the newspapers had sums of money as large as the sum Rita said he had. It wasn’t impossible to believe.

  She had said the bulk of it was in small diamonds. I had seen a heap of small diamonds on his desk. Then there was Emmie’s diamond ring. Not entirely convincing, but convincing enough.

  Suppose there was only half that sum? Seventy-five thousand. I could do a lot with seventy-five thousand. I could do a lot with even half that amount. Suppose she was exaggerating to make sure I had a real incentive to kill him?

  Suppose he was only a small-time racketeer and had say fifteen thousand? Even if it was only five thousand and I could lay my hands on it, it would be a hundred per cent profit with no risk.

  I was now beginning to get the pictures in my mind.

  There had to be some money. I was sure of that. It might be five thousand or a hundred and fifty thousand. However much it was, it was there for the taking. He hadn’t anything on me, and he couldn’t explain to the police. Whatever it was, it would be money for jam.

  But if I wanted her as well as the money, then I was heading for trouble. I would have to kill him to get her. I thought about her. She was good, satisfying, and exciting; as a woman she was in a class of her own. But I wasn’t all that weak in the head to risk my neck for a woman. I certainly wasn’t going to kill him for her. I would kid her along until I got my hands on his money, then I would ditch her.

  Kidding her along wasn’t going to be easy. I really had to believe I was going to kill him. I had to think up a foolproof, watertight method that would convince her I meant business.

  And when I had convinced her, I had somehow to force Sarek to get his money out of hiding so I could grab it, and when I had grabbed it, I had to ditch her and that wouldn’t be easy at all. She was dangerous. A woman who planned to kill her husband was always dangerous. I had to remember that.

  I closed my eyes and bent my brain to the problem.

  ‘You’ve been a long time.’

  The room was in darkness. The only light came from the fire. She was sitting on the settee, her hands gripped between her knees, her shoulders hunched. She still wore the sweater and slacks, and her hair hung over her face. The long wait had rubbed her nerves raw.

  ‘Do you think you can work out a thing like this in two minutes?’

  ‘Have you worked it out?’

  ‘I think so.’

  She looked up: the firelight showed me a tense, hard face and eyes that were suspicious and alert.

  ‘Sit down and tell me.’

  ‘I want a drink. I’ve been tying my brains into knots.’

  She got up and went over to the sideboard.

  ‘Better put on the light.’

  ‘I can see all right.’

  She came back with the whisky bottle and two glasses.

  ‘It hasn’t been fun sitting here, waiting.’

  ‘I don’t suppose it has.’

  I poured two stiff drinks, gave her one and sat down in the easy chair opposite her.

  ‘I think I’ve got it.’

  ‘You mean it’s safe?’

  ‘I said I wouldn’t touch it if it wasn’t safe, didn’t I? All right, now you tell me if you think it’s safe or not. I say it is.’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘He’s going to disappear. Not a mysterious disappearances He’ll have a convincing reason for going. He’s got to have a convincing reason. As far as I know there are only three people in the world who would care if he vanished without reason: you and I and Emmie. You and I don’t count, but Emmie does. If we’re going to get away with this, Emmie’s got to be sure he’s one on his own free will and gone for good. Do you see that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘If Emmie suspects for one moment he has been murdered or has run into trouble, she’ll go to the police. Be sure of that. She would rather blow the lid of his racket than spend the rest of her days wondering if he was dead. Is that right?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Now, get this straight. The police don’t act unless a body is found or a report is received that someone is missing under suspicious circumstances. Then, and only then, do they make inquiries. If no body is found and no report is received, no action is taken. If we handle this right, no action will be taken, and that’s why it’s safe. Do you follow that? There’s not going to be any risk of being questioned by the police, because the police just won’t enter into it. But to keep them out of it we’ve got to convince Emmie he’s gone away for good of his own free will.’ She was leaning forward now, staring at me, and I could hear her heavy breathing.

  ‘How do we do that?’

  ‘I’ll convince her. But there’s something I’ve got to do first, more important than convincing Emmie.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I’ve got to make him unearth the money.’ I saw her stiffen.

  ‘Why do that
? We know where it is. Get rid of him and we can find it ourselves.’

  ‘Can we? Suppose it isn’t there? Do you think I’m going to kill him without knowing for certain that were getting the money? Do you think I’m that much of a fool? Do you think I’m going to risk my neck because you fancy he had something bulky under his coat? Oh, no, he’s going to unearth the money. I’m going to be damned sure he has it on him when I put my hands on his throat.’

  She didn’t like this, as I knew she wouldn’t like it, but there was nothing she could do about it.

  ‘You’ll never make him do it.’

  ‘You don’t think so? Well, I do. Perhaps I know a little more about human behaviour than you do. The whole of his mean little life is tied up with that money. You said that; I didn’t. Suppose he has hidden it in the bam, and suppose the barn catches fire, isn’t he going to rush in there, without thinking you and I are watching him, and isn’t he going to rescue those diamonds and all that paper money before they burn? Isn’t he?’

  She had to lick her lips before she could speak.

  ‘You wouldn’t be so mad as to set fire to the barn? People would come. The fire brigade would come.’

  I laughed at her. I was really enjoying myself.

  ‘You’re absolutely right. I wouldn’t set fire to the barn. I don’t need to. I’ll tell you why. I don’t need to because I’m damned sure the money isn’t in the barn!’

  She turned red, then white.

  ‘It is!’

  ‘You think it is, but I’m willing to bet everything I own it isn’t. And I’m willing to bet too he went in there with the spade to fool you into thinking that’s where he was hiding it. What do you think of that?’

  I didn’t believe he had ever gone into the barn with a spade, but I had to give her a way out.

  ‘Yes; he might have done that.’

  She hated giving up her story, but she had told her lies so badly, she had no alternative.

  ‘If it isn’t in the barn then you don’t know where it is, any more than I do. You don’t, do you?’

  She looked away.

  ‘If it isn’t there, then I don’t.’

  ‘All right. Then neither of us knows where it is. We might search until we’re black in the face and never find it. But if he suddenly decides to leave this country for good, wouldn’t he take the money and diamonds with him? Of course he would. He wouldn’t leave them here. He’d take them out of their hiding place and smuggle them out with him, and, that’s when we’ll move in.’

  ‘You mean that’s when we kill him?’

  I looked into the stony green eyes.

  ‘That’s when we kill him.’

  We sat facing each other in silence for perhaps half a minute. I was watching her, and she was watching me.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Is that all you have to say?’

  ‘He’ll have the money on him so all we have to do is to take it. That’s it, isn’t it.’

  ‘Go on.’

  She frowned.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  I reached forward and put my hand on her knee. I was grinning. I couldn’t help it. She had as much brain for this kind of job as Netta, if you can call what Netta had a brain.

  ‘Well, pick holes in it as I picked holes in your idea.’

  ‘It sounds good to me, Frank.’

  ‘Think about it. If you don’t start picking holes in it, you can bet your sweet life Emmie will.’

  She was floundering now.

  ‘Well, what do you do with the body?’

  ‘That’s better. Now you’re using your brain. Never mind about the body. I’ve got that tied up. Anything else?’

  ‘It sounds perfect if you really can hide the body, Frank.’

  ‘Does it? Think again. Have you forgotten Emmie’s crazy about him? They’ve worked together for ten years. They’re like partners. Doesn’t that mean anything?’

  ‘What are you getting at now?’

  ‘I said this had to be safe, didn’t I? Not safe for a week or a month, but safe for as long as you and I live. And how long do you think we’ll be safe if she doesn’t hear from him after he’s supposed to have gone? Do you think she’s going to let him walk out of her life like that? She’ll be convinced he’s going because he’ll tell her so, but if she doesn’t hear from him after a few days she’ll begin to wonder, and after a few more days she’ll get excited. In less than a month she’ll be sure something’s happened to him and she’ll go to the police. The trouble with her is she’s positive he can’t do without her. She wouldn’t believe he would walk out and leave her flat. She wouldn’t, would she?’

  ‘That’s right. She does think he can’t do without her, and I don’t think he can.’

  ‘But she would believe he’s left her flat if she found out he had gone off with a woman. That’s the only set-up that would convince her. If he ditched you and her for another woman, she’d believe it.’

  ‘What other woman?’

  ‘After she thinks he’s gone, you’re going to see her. You’re going to show her a letter you’ve found and a photographs. You’re going to call him every name you can think of for leaving you and her for another woman. And you’ve got to make it sound convincing. The letter and the photograph will help, but it’s up to you to swing it so she believes in them.’

  ‘What letter and photograph?’

  I reached behind me.

  ‘Remember he wrote this to you? It hasn’t your name on it and it isn’t dated. It’s tailor-made for the job,” and I handed her his letter I had found in the box in her wardrobe drawer.

  ‘Go on, read it aloud, and see if it isn’t tailor-made.’

  She read it aloud and it sounded wonderful.

  Cherie,

  I can see nothing but danger and trouble ahead of us. It is impossible to remain here much longer: a week at the outside. It is time for you to decide what you are going to do. At the moment I have enough money for both of us. Together we can drop out of sight and begin a new life. For the moment Paris is safe enough, but later it may be possible to go to America. I must know immediately. You can be sure of my love. In haste.

  Henry.

  From the look in her eyes she thought it sounded wonderful too.

  ‘I’d forgotten this. He wrote it...’

  ‘Never mind why or when he wrote it. Forget you ever had it. That’s the letter you found.’ I screwed it up in my fist, crushing and crumpling it. ‘You found it in the wastepaper basket. Probably he decided not to write to her, but ‘phone her instead. But that’s the letter you’ve got to make Emmie believe.’

  I tossed Netta’s photo into her lap: the photo of her in her birthday suit with the crummy message in white ink: Waiting for you always, my darling. All my love, Netta. ‘And that’s the girl he’s gone off with. That’s believable, isn’t it? A man would go off with a lush piece like her, wouldn’t he? Even Emmie would believe that.’

  She stared at the photograph, blood rising to her face.

  ‘Who’s this?’

  I grinned at her.

  ‘His girlfriend. And if you can look the way you’re looking now when you show her to Emmie, we’re in.’

  She jumped to her feet, her eyes glittering.

  ‘Someone you know, I suppose?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And she’s still waiting, is she?’

  I took the photograph out of her hand.

  ‘It’ll be a long, long wait.’

  ‘Are you in love with her?’

  ‘What’s the matter with you? What are you looking like that for?’

  She grabbed me by the front of my shirt.

  ‘If I thought you were cheating...’

  I broke her hold and gave her a shove that stretched her flat on the settee. She lay there glaring at me, as furious and as vicious as a wild cat.

  ‘Do I snivel about your boyfriends? Do I work myself up over your he-man, Boris, who whined because you played around with other
men? Do I?’ I was bellowing at her now. ‘I took you as I found you, and you’ll damn well take me as you find me!’

  We glared at each other for seconds, then with a sullen, angry shrug she reached for a cigarette.

  ‘Well, all right, as long as you don’t see her now.’

  I adjusted my tie. She had nearly strangled me.

  ‘And cut out the rough stuff or you’ll get hurt. I don’t like women shoving me around. Now if you’ve got over your brainstorm, will you get your mind back to business?’

  ‘That’s one thing I won’t stand for, Frank. If you cheat on me...’

  ‘Oh, shut up! I’m not cheating on you. Forget it.’

  ‘Well, don’t.’

  I took a turn round the room until she calmed down.

  ‘Is that photo coupled with the letter enough to convince her he’s bolted with a woman?’

  She looked sullenly at me.

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘That’s not good enough. You’ve got to be sure. Can you convince her? If you can’t, we don’t go ahead. It wouldn’t be safe. She’s got to be convinced.’

  She drew in a deep breath.

  ‘I’ll convince her.’

  The rain had stopped, but the night was pitch dark and damp, and the ground squelched under our feet. I held her arm.

  In my other hand I carried an electric torch.

  We walked round the back of the house, along the path to the old well under the yew trees.

  I handed her the torch.

  ‘Keep the light steady.’

  I knelt and lifted of the zinc cover. A dank smell came up from the mouth of the well.

  ‘That’s where he is going. There’s over a hundred foot of water down there. With no one to look for him; no one thinking anything’s happened to him, there couldn’t be a better or safer place.’

  She came closer and peered over my shoulder. The beam of the torch lit up the black, still water. Green slime clung to the old, brick walls. A frog swam into the darkness, flashing its legs, to get away from the light.

  She leaned against me, shivering.

  ‘Let’s go in, Frank.’

  ‘That’s where he is going. I’ll wire stones to him. He’ll never come up.’

  She turned away.

  ‘I’m going in.’

  I grinned in the darkness.