‘You haven’t made yourself clear.’
‘Whether you like it or not, you’re mixed up in it now, Mister Nichols. I don’t believe you realize that.’
‘I still don’t understand.’
‘Yes. You do. Don’t be foolish. We don’t like to get rough. It’s silly, this day and age. You should understand that.’
‘Are you threatening me about something?’
‘Mister Nichols, for Lord’s sake! Now, look—you certainly wouldn’t want to see your place burned down, would you? Your motel, I mean? Now, would you?’
He talked very pleasantly. He was almost pleading, and very matter-of-fact about everything. Looking at him, talking with him, you would think he was some kind of a businessman. He was obviously prosperous. But there was something about him.
‘We just can’t let it go on, Mister Nichols.’
I could hear Hughes working on the cement with the scrub brush, and his dry, papery cough.
‘All right,’ Radan said. ‘I take it that I have your answer. Right?’
I still said nothing.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘You’ve had your chance. I was told to give you ten minutes, and I have. You’ve used them up, playing this all wrong. Now, where’s Vivian Rise?’
‘Never heard of her.’ He was beginning to make me mad, now. Damned if I’d tell him anything.
‘Have you seen Noel Teece, Mister Nichols?’
I didn’t say anything.
Radan put his hat on. He watched me levelly. ‘You’ve had it, Nichols.’
He turned and walked rapidly away. I started after him. He walked on past Hughes, then paused and stepped over beside the court. Hughes was on his knees, scrubbing the cement.
Hughes looked up and saw Radan and smiled and bobbed his head. Radan looked at him for a long moment, then he lifted his foot, placed it against the old man’s head and shoved. Hughes slipped down onto the soapy cement.
‘Listen here!’ I said, going after him. Radan paused and looked back at me, turned sharply and cut across the lawn. He reached his car. I stood in the middle of the lawn by the sign and watched him get in the car.
Radan took a last look at the motel, started the engine and made a fast rocking U-turn on the broken road. He vanished around the corner, the engine hissing.
I went over to Hughes. ‘I’m sorry about that.’
‘It’s all right, Mister Nichols. I could tell he was a sorehead when I spilled that soap on him. He didn’t hurt me. There’s all kinds in this world. Now, listen—I think the court should be renumbered. Have you any white paint? I’m really good at lettering.’
‘You’ll find some in the garage for number one.’
He nodded happily and I started back toward the office. I had to see Vivian again, but I didn’t know how I was going to get to her.
This Radan was a beaut.
‘Roy?’
‘Yes?’
‘What did he want?’
‘Oh, that guy? Kind of a funny character. Says he, well—wanted to build a motel. Comes from over in Tampa. He’s been riding around looking at motels. He likes this one. Asked me a few questions, that’s all.’
‘Sure peculiar.’
‘I know it. Hard to figure. Wants to build a motel. He sympathized with us, being stuck the way we are, with the road not through yet. He mentioned taxes.’
‘Please. Don’t even speak of them. What’ll we do, Roy? What are we going to do about money?’
‘I’ll think of something.’
We were in the office and she was standing in the doorway leading to our living room. She turned and went back into the kitchen.
I wished I could think of something to send Bess out for, so I could go talk with Vivian. But there wasn’t a thing I could do. And there she was in the doorway again. When Bess looked at me, it was in that funny way that I didn’t like.
‘Roy, you look sick. Honestly, I never saw you look so bad. Try not to worry about things. Everything’ll be all right. You wait and see. Hasn’t everything always worked out all right?’
‘Sure.’
‘Or is it just that you had a hot time up there in Chicago?’
‘Nothing like it. I just got drunk, that’s all. But it was bad stuff. Maybe I can’t take it any more.’ I had to get away from her and think. Try to.
‘You don’t suppose that man had anything to do with the bank?’
‘No.’ She was so worried, and there was nothing I could do to straighten her out about things. Not now. I wanted to and I couldn’t.
‘Maybe they’ve put the place up for sale, or something. Without telling us about it.’
‘Stop it, Bess!’ My voice was hoarse. ‘They can’t do a thing like that. You know that.’
‘What’s the matter with you, Roy?’
I went outside and stood on the porch and looked down across the lawn. There was no sign of Vivian. I knew that was no way to act if I wanted to keep Bess quiet. I went back inside. She was standing by the kitchen table with both hands flat on top. She didn’t look up as I came in.
‘I’m sorry about that.’
‘It’s all right.’
‘Everything’s got me down. Trying to figure a way out of this mess.’
‘I know.’
Oh God, I thought, if she only did know . . .
A few minutes later she was in by the desk; checking the bills. ‘Roy—that man just drove past again.’
I went over by the desk. ‘What?’
She turned and looked at me, frowning. ‘The man in the hearse, Roy. I’ve seen him go by the place twice now.’
I stared out the window. It was quiet on the street, but I knew she had seen him. And I began to know she would keep on seeing him.
Chapter 9
‘Mrs. Nichols. I’ve got to see your husband.’
‘Oh, hello, Miss Latimer.’
‘Is Mister Nichols around?’
‘Yes. He’s in the other room. What is it?’
‘Well—I think he’d better have a look at my stove. There’s something wrong with the stove.’
‘What seems to be the matter?’
I went on out there. She was on the back porch, talking with Bess. She was still wearing the shorts and she looked wild. Her hair was like she’d been combing it with her fingers. She had on lots of lipstick, but the rest of her face was the color of flour.
She saw me over Bess’s shoulder and her eyes got kind of crazy. Bess heard me and turned, holding the door open.
‘Miss Latimer’s having trouble with her stove.’ She gave me the eye.
‘Well, all right. You want me to have a look?’
‘Would you?’ Vivian said. ‘I hate terribly bothering you like this.’
‘Sure.’ I brushed past Bess. Vivian went off the porch onto the grass and Bess stepped after me. I didn’t dare say anything. If Bess came along, there was nothing you could do.
‘Think I’ll see how Hughes is making out with the shuffleboard courts,’ Bess said.
‘Every time I light the gas, it pops,’ Vivian said.
‘Air in the line.’
Bess went off along the rear of the apartment.
‘God. Nichols!’
‘Wait’ll we get over there.’
As soon as we were in her kitchen, she whirled, and it was like somebody was running a knife in and out of her. ‘I saw him, Radan! That’s Wirt Radan! I know about him. I know why he’s here. You don’t even have to tell me. He’s famous, Nichols—famous! I met him once in New York. He moves around the country. You know what he is?’ She was breathing quickly, her eyes very bright, and she had her fists bunched tight against her thighs. ‘He’s a killer.’
‘Cut it out . . . ’
‘Sure. You wouldn’t believe that. I knew you wouldn’t, you’re such a damned square. But it’s true. That’s his job. He’s one of them that works to a contract. You think they don’t do that any more? Do you? You’re crazy, if you think that!’
‘Take it
easy.’
‘Noel told me about him just a few days ago.’ She paused and turned and held her back to me that way, and her shoulders began to shake. She whirled on me again and I thought for a second she was going to yell. She didn’t. She just kept talking, with her voice held down in her throat, and she was really scared now. ‘Noel said Wirt Radan was getting so tough the men are afraid to work with him, even.’
‘And you told me you weren’t mixed up in any of this.’
‘I’m not. I was Noel’s girl. That’s all.’
‘Only that wasn’t enough.’
‘Nichols! You’ve got to get me out of here!’
I wanted that as much as she did. Only, how? ‘Did you ever stop to think of the mess you’ve got me in?’ I said. ‘Did you?’
‘I’m paying you. Remember?’
‘Vivian, all you think about is that money. Money can’t take care of everything.’
‘You’re thinking about it, too! Plenty. True, Nichols?’
‘All right. How do you want to work it?’
‘I want plane tickets to South America—Chile, probably. You’ll have to get me to the airport, see me on the plane. Somehow. Then you’ll get yours.’
‘Why not just get the tickets? Can’t you get them yourself, for that matter? You can drive to the airport yourself. It’s not far.’
‘Can we still get them now? You think it’s open, downtown? The ticket office?’
‘I guess so.’
‘Then let’s get going. I can’t go alone. I know they’ll be at the airport.’
I just stood there. She turned and rushed out of the room and I heard her in the bedroom, yanking the bureau drawers. I went in there.
She had the brief case. She got her suitcase off a chair, snapped it shut without putting anything extra back inside, and looked at me. ‘Let’s go, Nichols.’
She was off her rocker. She wasn’t thinking; traveling in some kind of a vacuum, she was like a hound dog on the scent, flying like the crow.
But I thought about that money, and not only that—if I could get her out of here now, I could tell Bess I’d taken her downtown. Tell her anything. Because she’d be gone and there wouldn’t be any chance for argument.
She glanced down at her shorts, turned abruptly, dropped the brief case and opened the suitcase and whipped out a blue skirt. Her anxiety was almost comical, except you knew how real it was. I heard Bess call to me from outside.
‘No,’ Vivian said. ‘Please—don’t go.’ She grabbed me. ‘Tell her something—anything. You know I’ve got to leave here now.’
I shoved her and she went windmilling across the bedroom and landed against the wall. I beat it out into the kitchen and Bess was just coming up on the porch. I opened the door. Bess tried to look past me. I let her look.
‘Did you fix her stove all right?’ There was a slight touch of sarcasm in her voice. But as she looked at me, she began to smile.
I grinned at her. ‘You go fix dinner. I’ll be along.’
She turned and went back toward our place. Vivian came out of the bedroom wearing the blue skirt. That wild look was still in her eyes. There was something about the way she held her mouth, too; a tenseness that told you a little about what went on inside her. Just a young kid, really—only not a kid—and her life all twisted out of shape. And she was trying to save her life in the only way she knew. Watching her, I felt a sense of hopelessness.
‘All right. Let’s get going.’
She picked up the brief case and the suitcase and I saw the filmy red scarf fall softly, lazily, from the brief case to the floor. She jammed the case under her arm and we went out into the kitchen.
‘Wait’ll I check.’ I looked outside. Nobody. ‘All right. You get in your car. I’ll be along in a minute, so it won’t look so bad. Make it fast, now, to the garage.’
‘Yes.’ She gave me a quick harried look, turned and went outside. I watched her cross the grass swiftly and slip between the garages toward the drive, her shoulders held rigid, as if she were trying to hide behind them. Twinkletoes.
I waited another moment. I knew it was better this way. She’d be gone, and the worry would be gone with her. She’d carry that part wherever she went, but it would be off my back. Somehow, I knew it was going to work out all right.
I stood there, trying to get my breath evened out, and then I went on outside and closed the door and started across the grass. She came running at me.
She tripped, stumbling, and the suitcase fell out of her hand. She made a wild grab for it, missed, and came on, her mouth open and her eyes stricken and sick.
‘Get back!’ She kept running. ‘He’s out there. Radan just drove through the alley!’ She came past me and rushed inside.
I went on out and got the suitcase and made it back to the porch. I entered the kitchen and looked at her. ‘Did he see you?’
‘No. No, he didn’t see me.’ She kind of turned and bent over like an old woman, and let her head hang, and went into the living room, moaning to herself. She still had the brief case plugged under her arm.
‘Did he stop?’
‘No. I saw him coming. I was right out in the drive, there. He’d just turned in off the street with that big black car. I could see his face—looking. Not at me, though. Oh, damn it!’
‘That’s bad.’
‘I’ll never be able to get out of here now. He’ll watch, and he’ll watch.’ She flopped down into a chair, hugging the brief case and she began to cry. It was wild, angry, hurt crying.
‘The money. We’d better hide the money again,’ I said. ‘But not in the bureau. I got a better place. Come on.’
She just sat there. I went over and grabbed her arm, pulled her up, and she leaned against me, shuddering. She was an awful sight and I felt sorry for her.
‘The apartment next door’s empty. That’ll be a better place—just in case. We’ll have to run for it again. The front way this time. So come on.’
We went outside, and there was no sign of Radan. The sun was beginning to dip. Another day gone, and things just that much worse.
We went in next door. It was hot and stuffy. It hadn’t been aired in weeks, and our footsteps were loud on the floors. ‘Suppose somebody moves in here?’
‘They won’t. I’ll see to that. Listen, I’m going to drain the tank behind the toilet, shut it off, and we’ll put the brief case in there.’ She was lost again, praying. I got the brief case and there was an immediate thrill, knowing what was inside it. It was heavy and full and it made you want to run some place, hanging onto it. I took it into the bathroom, turned the water off, flushed the john, and put the money in the tank.
‘What are you doing over here, Miss Latimer?’
‘I—we—he’s checking the stove for something.’
I came out of the bathroom, dodged into the kitchen and stood there sweating. Bess was talking in the living room now, about it being so hot. I went out the back door and let it slam real hard. I went over to number six, and stood there fiddling with the stove, turning it on and off, hating every minute of this and wishing I didn’t have to treat Bess like a stranger. I could hardly see the stove.
Pretty soon they came along. Bess entered the kitchen first and I didn’t look at her. I got out a match and lit the stove, and the gas caught just fine.
‘Hi. She’s okay now.’
‘That’s fine,’ Bess said.
‘Thanks so much, Mister Nichols. Honestly, I hate all this trouble I’m causing.’
I looked at Bess. Boy, was she sparking! Vivian moved past us, on into the living room and stood by the front window.
‘You just call me if there’s any more trouble.’
Bess and I went outside.
‘You’re sweating, Roy.’
‘Roy. She’s got a man’s suitcase in there.’
‘What?’
‘Miss Latimer. She’s got a man’s suitcase, and it’s full of a man’s clothing.’
‘What’ve you been doing in her ap
artment?’
‘I just looked in, that’s all, while you were next door. I saw it. What would she be doing with another suitcase, like that?’
‘Darned if I know. Maybe it’s her husband’s. Maybe she’s married, just doesn’t want to say anything. Some women are like that.’
‘She acts pretty queer, if you ask me. Has she said anything to you about being married?’
‘No.’
I had to shut her up, or get away from her. I couldn’t take it, because I knew now that I was in on everything with Vivian, and I was scared. Just plain scared. I didn’t know what to do. With Radan skulking around like that. Only you couldn’t call the cops. Not on a thing like this, not even if you did want to back out of the bad part.
Besides, that money. It was there, and I had to have some of it. Somehow. It was the only way I could see—even if it was a wrong way. When the taxes for this property came due, we’d really be in the soup. I didn’t want to lose this motel. I wasn’t going to lose it. I couldn’t let Bess take it on the chin any more. She’d never had any peace, never—all our married life, it had been like this. From one thing to another, never any peace, and by God, she was going to have peace and some of the things she wanted.
One way or another.
Even if I had to get hold of the brief case myself, and run . . . God, I was in a sweet mess and I knew it. But something had to be done.
‘Roy,’ Bess said, ‘I hate to keep at you like this. But I know darned well something’s the matter with that woman. You must have seen that. She’s afraid of something. We’ve got enough around here without somebody tossing their troubles in our laps.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t figure her out, but I do know something’s wrong. You think I should ask her?’ I knew Bess had been doing a lot of thinking. There was no way of her catching onto the truth, but I didn’t like her this way. It was my problem, not hers. She said, ‘I’ll bet she’s in some kind of trouble, Roy.’
‘Well, maybe so. But let’s not stick our noses in, huh?’
‘Yes. I know you’re right.’
Great Noir Fiction Page 19