1953 - This Way for a Shroud

by James Hadley Chase

  Frances was a little shaken by his tense fierceness, but she wasn’t frightened. Conrad had explained the impossibility of anyone reaching her, and she had been impressed by the precautions he had taken.

  “I know I can’t stay here forever,” she said, “but so long as I’m here, I’m safe, and so are you.”

  Pete stared at her blankly.

  “Safe? Here? Of course we’re not safe! Do you imagine Maurer couldn’t reach either of us if he wanted to? How many guards are there here? Twenty? If there were a hundred, they wouldn’t stop Maurer. No one has ever survived when he has given the word for him to the. No one! You don’t know that guy. The moment he failed to make good a threat, the Syndicate would wipe him out. It’s his life or ours, and it won’t be his.”

  “Aren’t you letting your imagination run away with you?” Frances asked. “Of course we’re safe here. Mr. Conrad has shown me the precautions he has taken. No one could get near us.”

  Pete clenched his fists and beat them on his knees.

  “Maurer can go through those guards like a hot knife through butter. I didn’t want to tell you this, but I’m going to, because you’ve got to realize what you’re up against. When I warned you about Moe I disobeyed an order, and Maurer can’t afford to let me live. If he lets me get away with it, some of the others will start disobeying his orders. That’s why I talked to Conrad. I was buying a little time. I didn’t tell him much, but enough for him to hold me. But in a while Maurer will get me. My time’s running out. I’m not kidding myself. I haven’t much longer to live; maybe an hour, maybe three or four days, but not longer.”

  Frances suddenly felt sick. Although Pete spoke calmly, she could see the terror in his eyes. It was this terror that convinced her he believed what he was telling her.

  “But they can’t get at you,” she said, gripping his arm. “You mustn’t be frightened. How can they get at you?”

  “Of course they can, and they will. When they’re ready to take me. they’ll take me.”

  “But how?” Frances asked. “With all these policemen watching you . . .”

  Pete threw out his hands in despair.

  “Do you think I trust any of them? If Maurer offered them enough money one of them would sell me out. Maurer could buy them all if he wanted to. When the time comes for him to take me, he’ll pay them to look the other way. It’s been done before, and it will be done again.”

  “But he can’t get at them!” Frances pointed out. “Mr. Conrad assured me these policemen are incorruptible.”

  “Yeah, he assured me that too. I don’t even trust him. He might be the one to sell me out for all I know.”

  “Oh, that’s nonsense,” Frances said sharply. “I don’t believe that for a moment. You are letting your imagination run away with you.”

  “When I am dead,” Pete said quietly, “please remember what I’ve told you. And please remember your only chance to survive is to say nothing. If Conrad persuades you to tell him what he wants to know, no one, no power on earth, can save you. Please remember that. No one, do you understand? The organization will never let you reach the witness box. So say nothing, admit nothing, and there may be a chance that Maurer will believe you do know nothing and you’ll survive. It’s your only chance. Please, please, remember this.”

  “Yes, of course,” Francis said soothingly. “But you’re not going to the. You mustn’t think that.”

  Pete stood up abruptly.

  “You’ll see,” he said. “Time’s running out. There’s one other tiling I want to say: you’re the only girl who’s ever been kind to me – ever, and I love you for it. You’ve given me more happiness in the short while we’ve been together than I’ve ever had in my life.”

  While he was speaking, Conrad came across the lawn towards them, and Pete abruptly turned away and walked quickly to the house. Three of his guards went after him. By the time he had reached the entrance to the hunting lodge, they were close on his heels.

  Frances sat staring after Pete, her face a little pale, and her eyes troubled. She didn’t look up as Conrad joined her.

  “What’s wrong, Miss Coleman?” he asked. “You look worried.”

  She looked up then.

  “He doesn’t believe he is safe.”

  “I know.” Conrad sat down beside her and lit a cigarette. “He’s a neurotic type. After he’s been here a few weeks, he’ll begin to realize just how safe he is. It’s an extraordinary thing what suggestion will do. He’s so convinced Maurer is all-powerful that no amount of persuasion can make him think otherwise. But don’t worry about him. He’ll be all right.”

  She looked at him gratefully. His quiet voice gave her confidence.

  “Will I be all right too?”

  Conrad smiled.

  “Of course, but with you I have a special problem. I can’t keep you here much longer. I shall soon have to think what I’m going to do with you.” He looked down at his hands, frowning. “The solution to your problem, and to Werner’s for that matter, would be the arrest of Maurer. Once I have got him behind bars, there would be little danger to you both. I could then hold you both as material witnesses and protect you until after the trial. When Maurer’s convicted, I could arrange for you to go to Europe until all the fuss has died down. You could then come back and start your life over again and in perfect safety. But I can’t get a conviction against Maurer unless you’ll give evidence against him.”

  He saw her immediately stiffen.

  “I have a hunch you did see Maurer at Dead End,” he went on before she could speak. “I believe you have a very personal reason for avoiding the inevitable publicity of the trial. Isn’t this something we can discuss? Couldn’t you trust me and let me help you?”

  Frances didn’t say anything. She had gone a shade paler and her hands began to tremble.

  “Now look,” he went on quietly, “we’re alone together. No one can hear what we’re saying. There are no witnesses. Won’t you take me into your confidence? Forget I’m a police officer. Let’s talk as private individuals. Put your cards on the table and let me advise you. I give you my word I won’t use anything you tell me unless you say so. I can’t be fairer than that, can I?”

  He saw her hesitate, and for a brief moment he began to hope he was at last going to succeed.

  But Frances was thinking of what Pete had said: The thing that matters is you must never admit having seen him: not to me; nor to Conrad, nor anyone; not even to your mother or your father. You must never admit you saw him; not even to yourself! You stand a slight chance of keeping alive so long as you say nothing. But understand this: if you let Conrad persuade you to tell him what you know – if you know anything – then no power on earth can save you!

  She stood up.

  “I have nothing to tell you. If you don’t mind I’ll go in now. I’m finding the sun rather hot.”

  She turned and walked back towards the house, leaving Conrad staring after her.

  chapter eight

  I

  Dolores felt Gollowitz’s mind was wandering. He didn’t appear to be as pleased to see her as she thought he should. She selected a low-slung armchair and sat down, taking a deliberate moment before adjusting her skirt. She saw his eyes go quickly to her knees, and she allowed him a moment to look at them before she hid them from his sight with a sweep of her hand.

  “Then you haven’t heard from Jack?” she asked.

  Gollowitz shook his head.

  “Not a word.” He rubbed his fat chin and wondered if it would be safe to go over and kiss her. But he didn’t know where Seigel was, and he was afraid Seigel might come in at any moment. He regretfully decided to remain where he was. “I wish he would let me know where he is. I don’t like being out of touch like this.”

  “But you’re doing very well, aren’t you, Abe?” she asked, watching him thoughtfully. “You’re not worried?”

  “Of course I’m worried,” Gollowitz said sharply. “Who wouldn’t be? Even Jack would be worr
ied if he had to handle this set-up. If we can’t get at this girl. . .”

  Dolores quickly decided she didn’t want to hear about the girl nor Gollowitz’s plans. The less she knew the safer she’d be if Gollowitz made a bad mistake.

  “Well, never mind,” she said. “I’m sure you will manage, darling.” She crossed her shapely legs. “I only looked in to see if there was any news of Jack.” She opened her handbag, glanced in it and frowned. “I seem to be getting short of money. Did Jack tell you to look after me?”

  Gollowitz shook his head.

  “No, he didn’t tell me. I guess he forgot, but that’s all right, Dolly; what do you want?”

  “It will be your money?” She looked at him with her wide exciting eyes. “I don’t think I could let you . . .”

  “No, Dolly, don’t let’s be silly about this.” He took out his billfold and put a sheaf of bills on the desk. “Will five hundred hold you?”

  “Of course.” She got up and came over to the desk. “Abe, darling, you’re very sweet to me. I don’t know what I should do without you.”

  He smelt the subtle perfume she was wearing, and he felt his mouth turn dry with desire for her. As she leaned forward he saw her breasts swing against the soft fabric of her dress.

  He half started to his feet, his fat face congested and his eyes glittering when the door opened and Seigel and Ferrari came in.

  Dolores picked up the bills and put them in her bag. She didn’t look round. Her face was calm and her eyes a little amused as she watched Gollowitz struggle to control his emotion.

  “Sorry,” Seigel said. “I didn’t know you were busy.”

  “I’m just going,” Dolores said, turning to smile at him. Her eyes encountered Ferrari’s sunken, gleaming orbs, and her smile stiffened. “I – I was just getting some money.” She had never been confused before in her life, but this ghastly looking dwarf who stared at her with eves that seemed to undress her frightened her.

  “Come in, come in.” Gollowitz said, trying to sound hearty. “Okay, Dolly. If there’s any little thing I can do while Jack’s away . . .”

  Dolores nodded and walked to the door. She had to pass Ferrari, and she instinctively walked around him in a semicircle rather than get too near him.

  Ferrari eyed her over, stared at her long legs, then ran his bony finger down his nose.

  When she had closed the door behind her, he said, “Who’s the twist?”

  “That’s Mrs. Maurer,” Seigel told him. “Didn’t you know?”

  Ferrari lifted his eyebrows and came over to an armchair near the desk and sat down. He wriggled himself into the chair until his feet hung a few inches from the ground.

  “Looks like Maurer takes care of his nights as well as his days,” he said, and his thin mouth curled into a leering smile.

  “What’s the news?” Gollowitz asked abruptly, his face flushing.

  “The news?” Ferrari repeated, staring at him. “Well, it’s okay. Weiner goes tonight.” He folded his claw-like hands in his lap. “At ten sharp.”

  Both Seigel and Gollowitz stared at him.

  “You wouldn’t be kidding?” Seigel asked blankly.

  Ferrari ignored him.

  “It’ll be a nice smooth job,” he said, evidently very pleased with himself. “One of my best jobs.”

  “How is it to be done?” Gollowitz asked in a hushed voice.

  “I had to have inside help,” Ferrari explained. “That was essential. I have persuaded Sergeant O’Brien to help me.”

  “O’Brien?” Gollowitz exclaimed, leaning forward. “But you can’t trust him. We’ve never got anywhere with him.”

  Ferrari smiled.

  “Maybe you didn’t find out his particular weakness. Everyone has a weakness. O’Brien has a son. He happens to be very fond of him. I have a son too, and I have learned that sons are precious to fathers: more precious sometimes than wives. A man likes to think that when he dies his name will be carried on. O’Brien is no exception. So he has agreed to help.”

  “Well I’ll be damned!” Seigel exclaimed admiringly. “I didn’t even know he had a son.”

  “It’ll be accidental?” Gollowitz asked anxiously.

  “Certainly. Weiner will come over faint in his bath. He will slip under the water and unfortunately drown. Will that suit you?”

  Ferrari’s face and voice were so cold-blooded and casual that both Gollowitz and Seigel exchanged uneasy glances.

  “That’s fine,” Gollowitz said. “Then tonight for certain?”

  “At ten. Weiner takes a tub at night. It’s a habit.”

  “But how will you get into the bathroom?” Seigel asked. “I thought the place was sewn up tight.”

  Ferrari shrugged.

  “Getting into the bathroom won’t be difficult. The window is small, but then so am I. The only snag was that before Weiner went into the bathroom it was searched. That was why I had to get O’Brien to cooperate. He will do the searching tonight.”

  “Well, okay: I hand it to you,” Seigel said. “You really think you’ll succeed?”

  “I’ve never failed.”

  Gollowitz said huskily, “And what about the girl? What are you going to do about her?”

  “Don’t let us be impatient. First things first,” Ferrari said. ‘I shall have to make a very special plan for her. She’ll be more closely guarded after Weiner’s gone. It should be an interesting problem.” His sunken eyes studied Gollowitz. “But she’ll go too. I promise you that. It may take a little time: it will take a lot of thought, but she’ll go.” He slid out of his chair. “I think I’ll take a nap. I don’t expect I shall get much sleep tonight. You’ll be here around half-past eleven? I shall then have news for you.”

  Gollowitz nodded.

  Ferrari walked to the door, opened it, turned to look first at Gollowitz and then at Seigel; then he went out closing the door behind him.

  II

  The night was hot and close, without a breath of air, and heavy’, black clouds hung in the sky. All day there had been a brooding, still atmosphere that had been getting hotter and more electric as the hours passed.

  Conrad stood on the stoop of the hunting lodge and stared up at the sky.

  “I’ll be glad when the storm breaks,” he said to Madge Fielding. “This is making me feel like a wet rag.”

  Madge, who had spent the entire day with Frances, had come out on the verandah for a change of air. In spite of the close atmosphere, it was at least a little cooler outside than in the lodge.

  “I’m just off to check the guards,” Conrad said. “Want to come?”

  “I’ll come,” Madge said. “I don’t think the storm will burst before we get back, do you?”

  “I don’t think so. There’s no wind yet. Anyway, I’m going in the car as far as the road.”

  As Madge got into the car, she said, “You know I feel I’ve been here for months instead of a week. How long do you think we’ll have to remain here?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I did. The D.A.’s coming down on Saturday. He’s going to talk to Miss Coleman. It’s up to him now. She’s defeated me. If he can’t persuade her to talk, we’ll have to think what to do with her. We just can’t keep her here much longer. But if she decides to talk, then we’ll stay here until the trial: probably for three months.”

  “What do you think of her, Paul?” Madge asked as Conrad drove down the mile-long drive.

  “She’s a nice girl,” Conrad said cautiously. “What do you think?”

  “I like her, and I feel sorry for her. I think she’s in some kind of mess.”

  “Has she said anything?”

  “Oh, no. But I’ve watched her. She’s having quite a time, trying to make up her mind about something. She broods an awful lot. I think she is wavering, Paul. A little more persuasion might bring her down on our side. She’s very worried about Weiner. She keeps asking me if I think he’s safe.”

  “Oh, he’s safe enough,” Conrad said impatiently. “It’l
l be when I take him to the courthouse that the trouble will start. They are certain to have a go at him between here and the courthouse. It’s their only chance.”

  He slowed down as the massive gates came into his headlights.

  Five policemen, each armed with a riot gun, were standing by the gates. One of them came up to the car as Conrad pulled up.

  “All okay?” he asked through the open window.

  “Yes, sir. Nothing to report.”

  “There’s a storm coming up. Keep your eyes open tonight. Have you all got slickers?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Stay out here even if it rains stair rods,” Conrad said. “Two of you will be enough. The other three can keep under cover, but I want two of you out here all night.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay. I’m going down to the roadblock now.”

  The policeman saluted and walked over to open the gates.

  Conrad drove down the long narrow road until they came to the roadblock. He spoke to the guards, warned them to keep on the alert, satisfied himself the searchlight was working and there were no absentees, then he swung the car on to a dirt track that led to the cliff head.

  Halfway up the track, he came to another guard post, and leaving the car, he walked with Madge up the steep path that brought them to the top of the perpendicular cliff.

  There were three sentry box huts on the cliff top, about a hundred yards apart. Guards were patrolling the cliff, and one of them came over when he caught sight of Conrad in the failing light.

  Leaving Madge, Conrad walked the length of the cliff head with the guard.

  “Watch out tonight,” he cautioned. “It’s going to be bad, and it’ll be on a night like this they might try to reach the lodge, if they’re going to try.”

  “They won’t come this way, sir,” the guard said. “I’ve done a bit of mountain climbing myself. No one could climb up here. I’ve looked it over pretty thoroughly. It’s impossible to climb.”