She pushed the coat aside and stood up. I stood up too.
‘Don’t make a fuss. Hand them over!’
‘I haven’t got them.’
She grinned casually and picked up her handbag. I grabbed her wrist, twisted it behind her, screwed the bag out of her hand and kicked it under the table.
For a minute or two we fought like a couple of animals.
Although she was strong I was that much stronger, and I got her down on the floor and knelt on her.
‘Are you going to let me search you or do I have to bang your head on the floor?’
‘All right, damn you, search me!’
I didn’t find the diamonds. I went through her bag, put the gun in my hip pocket and threw the bag on the floor.
‘It’s beginning to dawn on me there aren’t any diamonds.’
Her face was white, and her eyes glittering, ‘How do I know you haven’t got them?’
‘Because I wouldn’t be here if I had them. If I had found them I would have skipped, wouldn’t I? Use your head!
She pulled on her sweater, ran her fingers through her dishevelled hair and sat down on the settee. She began to go over the coat again, this time with feverish fingers.
‘You’re wasting time. You cooked up that story about the diamonds, didn’t you? You wanted him dead. And don’t think I don’t know why. I do. I know all about you.’
She looked up.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Never mind what I mean. You’ve tricked me into killing him, haven’t you? There never were any diamonds. You just threw out the bait and I swallowed it.’
‘You’re drunk, Frank.’
‘But not all that drunk.’
‘You’re talking nonsense. I know he had the diamonds. I saw them.’
‘I don’t have to believe you, do I?’
She picked up the hundred five-pound notes.
‘All right. If that’s how you feel about it. Take these and clear out.’
‘What are you getting at?’
‘Take these and call it quits. I’ll find the diamonds if I have to get him out of the well, and when I’ve found them I’ll stick to them.’
I stared at her.
‘What the hell is this?’
‘Take the money and get out, and don’t come back.’
‘And you keep the diamonds if you find them; is that it?’
‘You say there aren’t any diamonds. All right, I’ll buy your share of mythical diamonds with my half share of this money. I’m willing to gamble on it.’
I picked up the bottle of gin. I had a drink.
‘Do you think I’m risking my neck for five-hundred pounds?’
‘If, as you say, there are no diamonds, then you’ve already risked your neck for five hundred pounds.’
I snatched the money out of her hand, counted out fifty of the notes and offered them to her.
‘That’s your share. I’m staying until I’m sure the diamonds aren’t hidden here. You’re not going to gyp me out of a hundred-thousand worth of diamonds. You and nobody else.’
‘I don’t want the money, Frank.’ She was smiling, and when she smiled that way she could set fire to a saint. ‘You said you wanted the money and me, didn’t you, Frank? Well, here’s the money.’ She moved towards me. ‘And here am I.’
She had gone when I woke up, but I could hear her moving about downstairs, humming to herself.
I had a clapper inside my head that went bang-bang-bang, and a mouth like the bottom of a parrot’s cage. I had certainly been drunk last night.
I looked at the time. It was half-past nine, and the bright winter sun came through the blind, striking across my eyes and making me feel like hell.
I rolled over, wincing to the clapper inside my head.
After a while she came m carrying a tray.
‘So you’re awake.’
‘I feel like something the cat brought in.’
‘You were pretty drunk last night, Frank.’
‘I’ll say I was. What’s that - coffee?’
‘Hot and strong. I’ve got to feed the chickens. It’s late, Frank.’
She put the tray on the table by my side.
‘Come back when you’re through. We’ve got things to talk about.’
‘I’ll come. Do you want a cigarette?’
‘My case is over on the dressing table.’
She gave it to me.
‘Pretty good service.’
She smiled; a quick, bright smile that didn’t seem to mean very much.
‘When I like a man I look after him.’
I wondered if she had ever said that to Boris. She had certainly put him out of his misery.
After she had gone and I had drunk a couple of cups of black coffee the pain in my head went away and I was able to do a little thinking.
Now Sarek was safely at the bottom of the well I had lost that horrible sick feeling of fear. I now had no more feelings about killing him than if I had been to a gangster movie and seen someone shot to death on the screen: that’s how real it was to me. I was sure no one would find him down there. If ever the police became suspicious and began to look for him, there was positive proof he had gone to Paris, and it would be in Paris they would search for him, not down the well.
I still had Emmie to reckon with, but I felt pretty confident that if I followed my original plan, she wouldn’t become suspicious.
I wasn’t worrying about Sarek half as much as I was worrying about the diamonds. Had they been m the coat and had she found them? I didn’t think so. I had gone over that coat very carefully, and the stitching was intact. They would have been sewn in the coat. He wouldn’t have dared put them in a pocket. Had he been wearing them in a belt next to his skin? Again I couldn’t believe that. He never knew when the customs officials would descend on him. He was a regular traveller and they would be certain, sooner or later, to search him. Then again I couldn’t believe he would leave the country without them. It looked as if I would have to fish him out of the well, and the thought of doing that made me sweat. But how else could I be sure he hadn’t hidden them somewhere on his body or in his clothes?
I cursed myself for being such a squeamish fool not to have gone over him before dropping him down the well. How was I to get him up? There was a hundred foot of water down there. It would be a hell of a job.
I was glad when Rita came in and stopped me thinking.
‘Sit down and listen; we’ve got to take care of Emmie.’
She sat on the side of the bed and looked at me; her green eyes alert.
‘Go up to London this morning. Show her the letter and the photograph. Tell her you found the photo behind his chest of drawers and the letter in the wastepaper basket. You’ve got to convince her, Rita. Everything depends on it. If she takes it badly, as I’m willing to bet she will, then tackle her. Try to find out if he had any money. If she gets in a flap she may talk. We may even get a line on the diamonds.’
‘I’ll do it, Frank.’
I watched her drive down the lane to catch the ten fifty-three to London. As soon as the sound of the car engine had died away I started on the coat again.
I got a razor blade and opened the seams. I took the lining out. I opened the flaps of the pockets. I took the whole coat to pieces. I went through the shoulder padding. I cut up the cuffs but I didn’t find a thing.
I went over it again; inch by inch, cutting, ripping and cursing the coat. There were no diamonds, no money, nothing hidden in the damn thing.
For some minutes I sat and stared at it. My plan for taking Netta to America was as dim and faded as last year’s snow. I had killed him for practically nothing. Maybe he wasn’t worth more than five-hundred pounds we had found on him. Maybe I had invested him with a wealth he had never known, and now would never know. I had killed him for two hundred and fifty pounds, or five hundred if I cared to take her as well: and I didn’t want her. I wanted Netta and luxury and America. If I had my hands on his throat
now he wouldn’t have died so easily. I was fit to walk up a wall I bundled what was left of the coat together and carried it to the bam, wrapped the bits and pieces around the handle of a fourteen-pound sledge hammer and fixed it tight with wire, then I carried the bundle to the well and dropped it in.
It went down quickly and smoothly with scarcely a ripple.
I leaned forward, looking at the black surface of the water. The frog darted into the shadows. The green slime on the walls moved uneasily.
It crossed my mind he would probably be glad to have the coat with him. It would be pretty lonely down there.
She got back just after four o’clock The moment I heard the car I ran out to open the gate.
There was a hard, set expression on her face I didn’t like.
‘What happened?’
‘I don’t know. Let’s get inside. I’ll tell you about it.’
We went inside and closed the front door.
‘Did you convince her?’
‘I think so.’
‘Didn’t I tell you you had to be damn sure about that?’
‘She’s no fool, Frank. The way she looked at me...’
‘I know. You don’t have to tell me. She wouldn’t trust her own mother Well, come on, come on, what happened’’
‘I put on a good act, Frank. I know it was good. I even cried. I gave her the letter and the photograph. She went white. She looked awful. She’s hideous enough as it is, but when she read that letter she looked so horrible I felt sick.’
‘But did she believe it?’
‘Not at first. She didn’t say so, but after she had got over the shock I could tell she thought I was lying. I told her to phone the hotel he’s staying at.’
‘And did she?’
‘Yes. They told her they were expecting him, but he hadn’t booked in. Then I think she began to believe it. I called him names. I said I hadn’t any money. I said I’d wasted the best years of my life on him.’
‘Never mind what you said. What did she say?’
‘That’s what’s worrying me, Frank. She didn’t say anything. She sat there like a fat pig, staring out of the window. She let me rave on, but she didn’t say a damn thing.’
‘Well, what happened?’
‘I asked her if she had any of his money, and she said she hadn’t. I asked her what I was going to do. She gave me an awful little smile. ‘Wait a little while’, she said, ‘we may hear from him’. I said I Was sure we would never hear from him again. ‘We may’, she said, and I had a feeling she felt he would get into touch with her. It was as you said, Frank, she can’t believe he can do without her. She’s going to wait. But when she doesn’t hear anything from him, then perhaps she’ll open up. I have a feeling that’s what is going to happen. We’ll have to wait, Frank.’
‘You don’t think she was suspicious?’
‘I’m sure she wasn’t. She thinks he’s left me, but she won’t believe he’s left her.’
‘But she will, Rita, she will.’
chapter seventeen
We waited a week. It was the longest week I have lived through. It rained most of the time, and a blustering west wind moaned continuously round the house. There wasn’t much to do except sit in front of the fire and listen to the radio, and wait.
Rita wanted me to search the bam, but I wouldn’t do it.
I wasn’t going to shift all that coal and wood just for the fun of it. I was positive the diamonds weren’t in the bam. Then she wanted me to get him out of the well, and I wouldn’t do that either. The thought of fishing for him in that depth of water in the rain and the wind gave me the jitters, and besides, I had a horror of seeing him again; Everything now depended on Emmie. I was sure she would talk once she was convinced he had walked out on her. She would know about the diamonds - if there were any diamonds and she would know if he had them on him or not. I wasn’t going through the ghastly business of getting him out unless I was certain the diamonds were on him.
So we waited.
Rita wasn’t much company. She was nervy and sharp tempered, and then so was I. We got on together the way a bad-tempered cat gets on with a bad-tempered dog. We were continually flying up at each other, and there were days when we scarcely exchanged a word.
I was scared to go out. It would have been fatal to our plans if Emmie learned I was living alone with Rita. Every time I heard a car drive up or the crunch of feet on the gravel I dived upstairs, in case it was Emmie. By the end of the week I was about as fed up as I could be.
To add to our troubles we were running short of money.
We had agreed it wouldn’t be safe to spend the five-pound notes we had found in the coat until we were sure Emmie hadn’t kept a record of the numbers. For all we knew she might have gone already to the police and told them Sarek had disappeared. If we spent the fivers and they were spotted it would be a complete give-away.
Rita had about six pounds, and I had the twenty pounds Sarek was going to give me, and which I had found in his suitcase. But both of us were drinking pretty heavily and the money was going fast.
At the end of the eighth day we had only two pounds left. I was sick of being cooped up, sick of Rita and completely and utterly sick of myself.
I sprang it on her after supper.
‘I’m going to London tomorrow.’
She was lighting a cigarette, and I saw the flame of the match swerve as if someone had jogged her arm. She looked at me.
‘Why?’
‘I want to raise some money. In another couple of days we’ll be flat broke.’
‘How are you going to do that?’
‘A chap owes me fifty quid. I’m going to collect it.’
She didn’t attempt to conceal her suspicion.
‘You’ll be back tonight, of course?’
‘I hope so. If he isn’t in I might be delayed. Anyway, I’ll give you a ring.’
‘Frank...’
‘Now what is it?’
‘You know what I said about cheating?’
‘Oh, shut up! What’s the matter with you? I suppose you imagine I’m going to meet some girl.’
‘You’d be sorry if you did.’
‘Oh, forget it. You make me tired. What about your fat pal: Boris? What happened to him?’
She flicked the cigarette into the fire.
‘What makes you ask?’
‘I just want to be sure he isn’t within reach. You’re always imagining I have a girl up my sleeve, why shouldn’t I imagine you have Boris up yours?’
Without looking at me, she said, ‘He’s dead.’
‘And I suppose I’m expected to believe that, am I?’
‘He died six or seven years ago in Cairo.’
‘What happened to him? Did you poison him?’
‘What do you mean?’
There was an alert, scared look in her eyes.
I grinned at her.
‘I was kidding. Don’t tell me you did poison him.’
‘Don’t talk like a fool!’
‘All right, all right. You needn’t look like Lady Macbeth.’
‘Oh, shut up.’
To walk down Piccadilly, to look into the lush windows of shops like Fortnum and Mason, to see the smart women in their winter furs, to smell petrol fumes again and hear the rumbling of the traffic was pretty nice after the still, quiet, dangerous atmosphere of Four Winds.
I went into a pub in Jermyn Street and had three double whiskies and read the midday Standard. I had plenty of time, and I was going to enjoy myself. But I had to have money. All I had was a ten-shilling note when I left the pub and walked down Lannox Street.
Netta’s flat was over an antique dealer’s shop. I arrived at three minutes past noon.
There was a little delay before she opened the door. She was wearing a wool twin set in pale blue and a black shirt. Her blonde, curly hair was done up with blue ribbon. She looked as cute as a Varga drawing.
‘Does Miss Netta Garsten live here?’
‘Fr
ankie! Oh, Frankie; darling!’
‘Well, how are you, baby?’
‘Oh, come in, Frankie. I’ve been waiting and waiting. Why don’t you write or telephone or something?’
She hung on to my arm as if she was afraid I’d run away, and led me into the sitting room.
‘I’ve been pretty busy. I meant to write, but you know how it is. Anyway, here I am. And if you are a very good girl I’m going to stay the night.’
‘I’m always a good girl, Frankie.’
I sat down and she sat on my lap and put her arms round my neck and rested her face against mine.
‘What have you been up to, darling?’
I wasn’t going to tell her I had murdered a man and had thrown him down a well. That was something I wasn’t going to tell her.
‘I’ve lost my job, Netta.’
‘Oh, Frankie . . .’
‘There’s nothing to worry about. It’s just one of those things. Sarek’s gone to Paris, and he doesn’t want a bodyguard anymore, so for the moment I’m high and dry.’
‘That deal you were telling me about, Frankie ... didn’t it come off?’
‘Well, no, but it’s still cooking. Sarek’s in Paris to complete the deal. As soon as it goes through I’ll get the money. It’s just a matter of waiting.’
She looked at me, her blue eyes wide.
‘But can you trust him, Frankie? Will he give you the money?’
‘Of course he will. It was his idea to cut me in. I don’t suppose I’ll have to wait more than a month. Then we’ll go.’
‘You really mean we’ll go?’
‘Well, yes. I’m not saying it’s as safe a bet as I had thought, but I don’t think there’s much doubt that we will go eventually.’
‘Frankie...’
‘Hello.’
‘I don’t want you to worry about it. If things don’t work out right, it doesn’t matter about going to America. But we will get married, won’t we?’
‘We’ll get married, and we’ll go to America too.’
‘When, Frankie? I mean when shall we get married?’
‘Oh, in a little while. Don’t be so anxious. We’re as good as married now, aren’t we?’
‘Why, no, Frankie. I haven’t seen you for nearly a fortnight. I - I want you to live here with me.’
1951 - In a Vain Shadow Page 16