1964 - The Soft Centre

by James Hadley Chase

  'All right,' Terrell said curtly. 'Let's start again.' He looked at Beigler. 'Let's have it down in writing.'

  ***

  It was a little after five o'clock that evening that Terrell heard from Lepski that he had met Val Burnett in Hardy's penthouse and that she had been there representing the Miami Sun.

  Terrell was both tired and worried. Moe Lincoln had again slipped through the police dragnet. Terrell had arrested Lee Hardy for killing Jacko, but Hardy's lawyer had got Hardy out of the hands of the police on bail. Hardy had claimed he had been forced to kill Jacko as Jacko was about to shoot Gina. As Gina supported this story, there was nothing Terrell could do but to allow Hardy out on bail.

  At first he couldn't believe that Val Burnett had masqueraded as a press reporter, but when Lepski had finally convinced him, he got in his car and drove fast to the Spanish Bay hotel.

  Val received him in the sitting-room of her suite.

  'I'm sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Burnett,' Terrell said as he came into the room. 'I understand from one of my officers that you were in Hardy's penthouse a few minutes before this shooting affair.'

  Val, who had been expecting this call, had prepared her story, and although she was tense, she faced Terrell calmly enough.

  'Yes, I was there. It was very stupid of me,' she said. 'Do sit down. Of course you want an explanation.'

  Terrell sat down.

  'I understand you told Hardy you were Mary Sherrek of the Miami Sun, Mrs. Burnett. Is that correct?'

  Val sat down, facing Terrell.

  'Yes. It was like this: Miss Sherrek wanted to go home. She was short of money. I was sorry for her so I bought her press card. I suppose I had no right to do it, but I wanted an excuse to help her and I also wanted to amuse myself.'

  'She had no right to sell the card to you.' Terrell said sharply. 'I don't understand: just why did you buy it?'

  'Oh, a sudden impulse.' Val made a vague gesture with her hands. 'I suppose it is difficult for you to understand my position. I am wealthy. I have nothing to do. I have always been fascinated by crime.' She forced a smile. 'This woman's murder ... Sue Parnell ... more than interested me. I've followed the case in the papers. It suddenly occurred to me while I was talking to the girl it would be amusing and interesting to meet some of the people connected with the case. I realised if I had a press card, I could go to these people's homes and talk to them. So I just couldn't resist the temptation and I bought the card from this girl. I called on Mr. Hardy. You'll probably think this is rather morbid, but people like myself who have too much money and not enough to do, do these things for—for kicks.'

  Terrell stared at her. He didn't believe a word she was saying, but he had to be careful.

  'It was a very foolish and dangerous thing to have done, Mrs. Burnett,' he said finally.

  'Yes, wasn't it? Well, I'm sorry if I have caused trouble. Perhaps you will be kind enough to write it off as a silly, rich woman's whim.'

  Terrell wasn't to be taken in by this kind of humility.

  'When you were in the penthouse,' he said, 'had you any idea these two killers were there?'

  'Oh of course not!'

  'Could I have Sherrek's press card, please?'

  Val stiffened, then stared steadily at him.

  'I hope you're not going to make trouble for the girl,' she said. 'I wouldn't like that. All this is entirely my fault. I destroyed the card when I got back here.'

  Terrell shifted ground.

  'There's another thing, Mrs. Burnett. It has come to my knowledge that you have given Homer Hare twenty thousand dollars. He claims it is a retainer for work to be done. I admit this isn't my business, but I feel it is my duty to warn you that Hare is thoroughly unreliable and thoroughly dishonest.' He hesitated, then went on, 'On the face of it, Mrs. Burnett, it seems to me that Hare might be blackmailing you. Nothing would please me more than to put him away for fourteen years. Anything you wish to tell me that would enable me to get a conviction against him would be in the strictest confidence, I assure you of that.' He paused, then went on. 'Is there anything you would care to tell me?'

  Val felt cold. She sat for a long moment staring at Terrell, then she said, 'I gave this man the money because I want him to do certain very confidential work for me. There is no question of blackmail.' She got to her feet. 'Thank you for your offer of help, but it is quite unnecessary. Please accept my apologies for my foolishness.'

  Terrell shrugged and stood up.

  'All right, Mrs. Burnett, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me. If I can be of help let me know.' He moved to the door, then pausing, he said, 'I'm sorry, but this isn't the end of the matter. Hardy is coming up on a manslaughter charge. He could call you as a witness. I'm not satisfied you have told me the truth. Think about it. People have found it is better to have me on their side than against them.'

  He went out and shut the door quietly behind him.

  ***

  The time was seven-fifteen. Homer Hare, Sam Karsh and Lucille were in conference. Sam Karsh had just got back from hospital where he had been treated for bruises and shock. It had taken him more than seven hours to recover enough from the police beating to get back to the office. Even now, he held an ice-bag to his aching eye and he moaned now and then. Neither Hare, who was munching chicken sandwiches, nor Lucille paid any attention to him.

  'I said from the beginning I didn't like it,' Lucille said, 'and now this.'

  'Terrell's bluffing.' Hare said, his mouth full. 'He can't prove the money isn't a retainer. The Burnett woman won't talk. There's nothing to worry about.'

  'Yeah?' Karsh whined. 'How's about me? Look at the way those Nazis beat me up! Know what they said? They said every time they see me in the car, they will frame me for a traffic violation and they'll do it! Look at my eye!'

  'Oh shut up about your damned eye!' Lucille exclaimed shrilly. 'Who cares? I think ...'

  The buzzer sounded in the outer office. The three of them looked uneasily at each other. Then Lucille got to her feet and was moving to the door when it opened. Even Hare was startled to see Val standing in the doorway. With an effort, he switched on his oily smile and got to his feet. He bowed elaborately.

  'Mrs. Burnett: I am honoured. Please come in.'

  Val looked from him to Lucille and then to Karsh who hurriedly hid the icebag behind him and stared at her uneasily.

  'All right, children,' Hare said smoothly. 'Run along. Mrs. Burnett doesn't want you here.'

  'But I do,' Val said with quiet determination. She moved further into the office and closed the door. She was pale but there was an expression in her eyes and a hardness around her mouth that made Hare look sharply at her. 'I think your two assistants know you are blackmailing me.'

  Karsh flinched and turned a putty white. Even Lucille, her eyes glittering, stiffened.

  'Now, Mrs. Burnett, we mustn't have that kind of talk here,' Hare said, his voice suddenly harsh.

  'That is exactly the kind of talk we are going to have,' Val said. She walked to the chair opposite Hare's desk and sat down. 'I have been talking to the Chief of Police. He tells me he wants to send you to prison for fourteen years. He seemed quite serious about it.'

  Hare lowered his bulk bark into his chair.

  'What he would like to do, Mrs. Burnett and what he can do are two very different things.'

  Val gazed steadily at him.

  'But he can do it. I have only to tell him you and your assistants blackmailed me for you and your assistants to go to prison for fourteen years.'

  Karsh said hurriedly, 'Don't bring me into this.'

  Hare glared at him.

  'Shut up!' To Val he said, 'Surely, Mrs. Burnett, I don't I have to remind you of the consequences if you confide in Terrell. I admit we would get into trouble, but Terrell could not overlook the fact that your husband is a murderer. I was under the impression that you paid the money to keep that fact quiet.'

  Val shook her head.

  'Oh no, I di
dn't,' she said. 'I gave you the money to establish the fact that you were blackmailing me. The police and my bank have the numbers of all the bills. The police know I gave you the money. They would have no difficulty in proving you did blackmail me and your assistants had a part in it.'

  'Now, wait ...' Karsh began, sweat breaking out on his face.

  'Will you shut up!' Hare barked. 'I think you are bluffing, Mrs. Burnett. Am I to understand you don't mind your husband being tried for murder?'

  'Oh, yes, I mind,' Val said quietly, 'but I am not submitting to blackmail. I've thought about it. It is better for my husband to stand trial than to pay blackmail. You hold the only evidence against him: the police will want to know why you didn't give them this evidence: that, coupled with the fact they know I paid you all this money will send you to prison almost as long as the sentence my husband would get.'

  Hare began to feel uneasy.

  'I still think you are bluffing,' he said. 'Your husband will spend the rest of his days in a criminal asylum.'

  'It is possible, but we will hire very clever attorneys.' Val said. 'He could get off sooner than that. I'm not bluffing.' She reached across the desk and picked up the telephone receiver. 'If you think I am, then I'm calling the Chief of Police.'

  Karsh shouted, 'Stop! Don't do it!'

  Val replaced the receiver and looked at Karsh who was glaring at Hare.

  'You fat old fool! I warned you! She's got us! Now you shut up for a change. I'm going to handle this!'

  Hare, livid, started to say something, but Lucille cut in. 'Let him handle it. I said all along I didn't like it.'

  Hare hesitated, then swung his chair around so his back was to Val. He looked like a man about to have a stroke.

  Karsh said, 'Mrs. Burnett, I want you to believe neither my wife nor me wanted anything to do with this. Look, we'll give you back the money and the evidence. If we do that, will you forget it? We don't want trouble with the police and you don't want trouble for your husband. That's right, isn't it?'

  Hare snarled. 'You bird brain! She's bluffing!'

  Val looked at Karsh.

  'Give me the jacket and the lighter and the money.' Her heart was pounding, but she managed to look straight at Karsh although she was a lot more frightened than he. 'And I'll forget I've ever been here.'

  Karsh hurried to the safe. He took out the parcel containing the jacket. To this he added the gold cigarette lighter. Then picking up the briefcase containing the twenty thousand dollars, he handed the three articles to Val.

  When she had gone, Hare threw the remains of his chicken sandwich across the office.

  'Fools! Couldn't you see she was bluffing? You've let half a million dollars walk out of here!'

  'Yeah?' Karsh sneered, pressing the icebag against his aching eye. 'then why are you wasting good food? If we're going to be all that poor, you'll need every crumb you can find.'

  chapter eleven

  Moe had remained in the cupboard recess at FrisFris' bar until nine o'clock. In the meantime, FrisFris had alerted the boys along the waterfront to report on the activities of the police.

  A telephone call at a few minutes to nine assured FrisFris the search for Moe had moved on and the immediate district was now clear of police.

  He hurried to let Moe out of his hiding place.

  'They've gone for the moment,' he said as he led Moe into a back room furnished only with a table and four chairs. 'So what are you going to do now?'

  During the time Moe had been shut up in the darkness he had grieved for Jacko's loss. His grief had been devastating and genuine. He had adored Jacko. Now life without him was as empty to Moe as a hole in a wall. He just could not imagine what he would do with himself without Jacko. It was as if a shutter had slammed shut, cutting off his future existence.

  The five thousand dollars he had taken from Hardy's penthouse meant nothing to him. What was money without Jacko?

  FrisFris watched him anxiously. He had never seen Moe like this before: uncertain, his face haggard, his eyes sightless.

  'Moe! Baby! What's the matter?' FrisFris asked nervously. 'You must think of yourself now. I could get you on a ship. There's one sailing tonight for Jamaica. You have money, haven't you?'

  Moe sat on one of the chairs. He put the briefcase containing the five thousand dollars on the table. He stared across the room without apparently hearing what FrisFris had said.

  'Baby! Come on!' FrisFris urged. 'They could come back. They knew you and me know each other. We must make a plan.'

  Moe suddenly snapped out of his mood. He stiffened, and the blank expression in his eyes changed to a murderous burning hate.

  'I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to get that slob who killed Jacko!'

  FrisFris flinched.

  'You're crazy! You must get away! Forget Hardy! You must think of yourself!'

  'I'm going to fix that slob. I don't care what happens to me so long as I fix him.'

  FrisFris wrung his fat hands.

  'We'll fix him, baby. The boys will take care of him. Every cop in town is hunting for you. You get on this ship. I'll arrange everything. You don't have to think of Hardy. The boys will take care of him.'

  'No one's taking care of him but me!' Moe shouted, hammering the table with his fists. 'Anyone who touches that slob is in trouble with me!'

  FrisFris lifted his hands helplessly.

  'All right, baby, but you will never get him. The heat right now is terrible. Every cop ...'

  'Oh. wrap up! Get me a change of clothes - something dark and snap it up!'

  FrisFris had a sudden idea. He was desperately anxious that Moe should escape. His black face lit up.

  'I have a girl's outfit here, baby. It would fit you. How's about it? I have a beehive wig too. I'll get you up so your own mother wouldn't know you.'

  Moe stared, then nodded.

  'Now you're talking,' he said.

  Forty-five minutes later, a slim Jamaican girl, her black beehive hair like a helmet, her blue and yellow dress caught tight at her waist, her bare feet in yellow sandals, walked out of FrisFris' bar and along the waterfront. She was carrying a large yellow and blue handbag: in the bag was a .38 automatic.

  ***

  Gina and Hardy lay on the big double bed. Hardy was a little drunk. They had just made explosive love, and now Hardy wanted to sleep, but Gina was restless and uneasy.

  'Let's talk,' she said, stretching her beautiful naked body the way a cat stretches. 'Lee! I'm worried sick. They can't do anything to you, can they, for killing that fat beast?'

  'No,' Hardy said. 'It's routine stuff. Harry will take care of it. Don't keep on about it. It was self-defence. Now, relax, can't you? Let's sleep.'

  ‘But it's not ten yet.' Gina said. 'How can I sleep? Let's go somewhere. Let's go to the Coral Club.'

  Hardy opened his eyes and peered at her.

  'If you imagine I'm going out while that black thug is still loose, you're nuts,' he said.

  Gina's eyes opened wide.

  'You mean he might do something to you?'

  'What the hell do you think we have a cop outside the front door for?' Hardy asked impatiently. 'What the hell do you think we have two cops planted in the lobby downstairs for? They think he'll come up here after me. He and Jacko were husband and wife.' He sat up abruptly. 'I wish to God I hadn't shot that fat ape. I don't know why I did it.'

  'But suppose they don't find him?' Gina asked, also sitting up, her eyes alarmed. 'You mean we have to stay here until he is caught?'

  'Yeah. I'm not going out until they do get him, and they will. Every cop in town is after him.'

  Gina got off the bed and walked across the room to where her wrap lay on the floor. Hardy studied her nakedness as she moved and as she bent to pick up the wrap. He had known more women than he could hope to remember. Not one of them excited him as Gina excited him.

  'Get me a drink,' he said, lying back on the pillow.

  Gina went into the kitchen, made two whis
kies and added ginger ale and ice. She came back gave one glass to Hardy, then curled up in a chair near the bed.

  'Let's get married, Lee,' she said. 'I'm sick of drifting around this way. Let's get married. We could even have kids.'

  Hardy stared at her in amazement, then laughed.

  'Coming from you that's a riot. Kids? Who wants kids?'

  'I do,' Gina said quietly.

  After staring at her, Hardy became thoughtful.

  'Well, I don't know.' He shook his head, but Gina, watching him, saw the suggestion had made an impression.

  'We needn't rush it,' she said. 'The kids I mean, but let's get married.'

  'Why can't you be happy as you are?' Hardy asked, suddenly on the defensive. 'Why should we get married?'

  'I've already told one lie for you that could get me into trouble,' Gina said. 'Now I have to tell another ... that Jacko was going to kill me so you killed him first. That could also get me into trouble. I don't like trouble, Lee. Why should I stick my neck out for you?' She paused, then went on. 'I'd cut my heart out for my husband.'

  Hardy frowned up at the ceiling. Why not get married? Why not even have a couple of kids?

  He suddenly relaxed and grinned.

  'Well, okay. Pekie, if that's what you want,' he said. 'I could do worse. It might be an idea at that. Okay, as soon as this mess has been cleared up, we'll do it.'

  'Don't sound so damned enthusiastic,' Gina said and giggled. This was the moment she had been plotting for now for the past three weeks.

  'What do you expect me to do?' Hardy asked grinning. 'Set fire to the joint?'

  Gina gave an excited squeal and springing up, she threw herself on him, knocking his glass flying.

  At this moment, a slim Jamaican girl walked down the alley at the back of Hardy's apartment block. She moved quickly and silently, and no one saw her as she gently opened the door that led to the janitor's office. She stepped into the corridor, shut the door and paused to listen. The janitor's office was in darkness. A door at the far end of the corridor stood ajar, and a light came through into the corridor. Moving like a black ghost, she edged towards the stairs as a man in the room cleared his throat noisily. She kept on and reached the first floor. Here she paused as she could see the doorman reading a sporting sheet from behind the desk. She edged to the flight of stairs and again succeeded in moving out of sight without being seen.