A Stranger in my Street

by Deborah Burrows

  Stan nodded. ‘Did he kill Doreen?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  It seemed that Nobbie, Doreen and Betty must all have been in the black market together. But why was Doreen murdered? And what about Chad? If he didn’t kill Doreen himself, he may have been in on it with Nobbie. I looked over at him. He was breathing fast and I could see sweat on his face.

  ‘Why were you here, Chad?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, Chad, why were you here?’ Tom echoed, very softly.

  ‘I just came to see Betty. I never expected to find all this going on.’

  ‘An amazing coincidence, you turning up just when you did. I think you killed Wilder to keep him quiet.’ Tom’s voice was harsh.

  ‘You’re crazy, man. That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.’ Chad’s face was red. ‘Why won’t you believe me? I was trying to help.’ There was a rising panic in his voice and under the bluster he looked terribly afraid. I saw his chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

  ‘Tell us why you wanted to see Betty,’ I said quietly, shooting a look to Tom that I hoped he would understand.

  Chad’s face seemed to cave in. ‘I buy my dope from her,’ he said. ‘Pep pills. You know, Methedrine. We get them for the long missions, to keep us awake. Betty has Dexedrine. It’s even better.’ His bravado had disappeared and he seemed completely drained of energy. ‘I go crazy sometimes when I have the stuff, but it’s like hell if I don’t have it. They used to give it out like candy, but the last few months they’ve cut it back so we only get it when we fly.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry that I behaved badly to you, Meg. I really am sorry. I lose control so easily now . . .’

  Tom’s head jerked up to look at Chad. He still had my hand and his grip tightened. I whispered to him, ‘He didn’t hurt me. I dealt with it and it’s over.’

  ‘Can’t you untie me?’ Chad said. ‘Please, Tom. I feel sick. I’m so tired. I need the pills.’

  He had started shaking. This man was entirely different from the one who had tried to attack me outside the Silver Dollar.

  ‘Where did Betty get the pills from?’ I asked him.

  Chad turned weary eyes towards me. ‘The military hospital, I guess. There’s always drugs around a hospital. Maybe from Wilder – he seemed to know everyone.’ Sweat had beaded on his forehead and his skin looked grey. ‘Meg, can’t you get him to untie me? I feel really sick. I need my pills. Don got rid of all the pills I had and they wouldn’t give me any at the infirmary. It’s been too long since I had any. I couldn’t find Wilder at the university camp and I only came here because I was desperate.’

  I looked at Tom, who shook his head.

  Chad groaned. ‘I just wanted to help. Meg was tied up and you’d lost hold of Wilder. I didn’t mean to kill him. I swear it. I don’t know what I’m doing sometimes.’ Chad dropped his head forward. ‘Please untie me. Please Tom.’

  Tom had a calculating look in his eyes. ‘Buchowski,’ he said sharply.

  Chad raised his head warily. He looked smaller. Sad. Scared.

  Tom said, ‘I’ll get you the stuff, but you need to answer some questions.’

  ‘What?’ Chad sounded tired and defeated. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Tell me about Wilder’s role in all of this.’

  Chad’s head fell forward again so that his answer was muffled. ‘Wilder always had extra pills if we needed them. I’m not the only guy who needs more, you know. He got them from Betty. Or from our dispensary. Or one of our hospitals. I don’t know.’ His voice was flat. ‘He and Betty always had whatever you needed. And I need pep pills. Nothing makes sense without them any more.’ He looked up at us and tried to smile but the effect was more of a grimace. ‘You should understand, Tommy boy. It’s just a different poison. I need pep pills. When I have them I can do anything; nothing hurts me, everything’s great. You take your morphine pill every day. But it’s heroin that does it for you, isn’t it?’

  I turned to Tom, but Chad’s words didn’t seem to have affected him at all. He looked hard and pitiless. There was a cigarette in his mouth and he was lighting it. As he drew in a breath the tip flamed red. He rose to his feet in a quick movement and went over to Chad, bent down and put the cigarette in Chad’s mouth. As Chad drew in the smoke the tip flared up again. They looked at each other for a moment.

  Tom returned to Stan and me, picked up the blanket from the camp bed and shook it out. He went over to Nobbie’s body and draped the blanket over it so that it was now a shapeless grey lump, although his boots were still visible.

  Tom went back to Chad and crouched down next to him. He let Chad have another drag of the cigarette.

  ‘Who killed Doreen? And where is Jimmy?’ Tom sounded calm.

  A spasm passed through Chad’s body. He took a few breaths. ‘And I’m supposed to roll over for you?’ He sounded incredulous. ‘I know that Doreen was trying to get heroin for you, Tom. She was asking around everywhere because they’d got wise to her at the hospital. Did the army know that? Did she get too embarrassing? Is that why you killed her?’

  Stan was sitting very still. He seemed horrified. I wondered if I looked the same.

  ‘What rubbish you’re talking, Chad,’ I said in the loudest voice I could muster.

  ‘You little innocent. Doreen used to get it for him from the hospital.’

  ‘Maybe she did. The drugs help to control the pain of his injuries. That doesn’t mean he killed her.’

  ‘He’s an addict. He keeps morphine pills at Phyllis’s place and I saw heroin there once, too. Doreen was asking for heroin the night she died. It all adds up.’

  Tom’s eyes were very cold. ‘You know I didn’t kill Doreen, Chad,’ he said. ‘Did you?’

  Chad shook his head. ‘I was nowhere near that air raid shelter. I left Doreen alive on the path that night and went straight back to the base with Don.’

  ‘Chad,’ I said. ‘You were talking to Nobbie when Don found you. What were you talking about?’

  ‘I told him Doreen had been bugging me for dope, asking me to get some from him. Said she’d sleep with me, do anything I wanted if I got it for her. I knew it was for him. She was crazy about him.’ He flicked a glance at Tom.

  ‘Why wouldn’t she ask Nobbie for it directly?’ I asked. ‘He came to the house as Betty’s boyfriend.’ Nothing made any sense to me any more.

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe she’d asked him for too much already and she thought I could do better? Wilder wasn’t happy when I mentioned it, but he said he’d talk to her.’ Chad shook his head. ‘Wilder didn’t kill Doreen. He was in the Quonset huts all night. I checked up on him after I knew she’d been killed. He was nowhere near that shelter.’

  He closed his eyes. ‘I liked Doreen. Can’t you get that? I liked her. I didn’t kill her. It was the husband who killed her.’

  Twenty-nine

  Tom, Stan and I had a furtive discussion.

  ‘He knew about the pills I keep at Phyll’s,’ Tom whispered to me urgently. ‘He must have sent someone there to swap them.’ He glared at Chad and said loudly, ‘Were you just tying up a loose end? Jimmy was just a kid, for Christ’s sake.’

  Stan jumped to his feet and stood rigidly, turning his head back and forth between Tom and Chad. ‘He killed Jimmy? How do you know?’

  Stan stared at Chad, who wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  ‘Why did you kill him?’ It was a cry of pain.

  Sweat was trickling down Chad’s face and he was shaking. When he raised his head, he looked like a frightened boy. All at once I felt sorry for him. This man was a highly decorated pilot. When I first met him I had liked him. I had thought he was good and brave. I had considered him to be a friend. When he wasn’t taking the drugs he probably was that man.

  ‘I didn’t kill any kid.’ Chad’s voice was rising to hysteria. ‘I swear it. Nobbie was an accident.’

  I touched Tom’s arm. This was getting out of hand and we still had no idea where Jimmy might be.

  ‘Do
n’t you think it’s time we got Detective Munsie involved?’

  Tom closed his eyes for a moment, as if in pain. I was worried about him. His face was caked with blood and sweat and he was obviously exhausted.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said at last. ‘Does Betty have a telephone?’

  ‘I have no idea. Do you want me to look? If there’s not one, I’ll go to the Phoenixes’. I’ll ask Detective Munsie to come here.’

  I got shakily to my feet and walked through the kitchen to the hallway, turning on lights as I did so. On a low table opposite the front door was a telephone. I was bending down to pick up the receiver when a hand covered my mouth and I felt a hard tube pushing into my back. For a bewildered few seconds I had no idea what it was.

  Then I heard Betty’s voice, low in my ear. ‘Don’t be silly, Meg. I’ve got Nobbie’s gun. I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m desperate. So stay very still.’

  She sniffed. ‘If you don’t do anything stupid, you’ll be fine. I just want my money and I want to go.’

  I nodded, scarcely moving my head. I could feel the barrel of the gun moving against my back as Betty’s hand shook.

  Her voice was high and she was speaking quickly. ‘Walk ahead of me into the sleep-out. Don’t do anything silly and you’ll be fine. Don’t try to be heroic, or you’ll die, and then your precious Tom will die and then Stan. If you do anything you’ll be responsible for me killing them. Do you get that?’

  I nodded again. She removed her hand from my mouth.

  ‘I’ll do whatever you say,’ I whispered.

  She kept the gun in the small of my back as we walked together through the kitchen and into the sleep-out.

  No one had moved. Nobbie’s body was still a shapeless lump on the floor, his boots sticking out like a horrible joke. Chad was still shivering, arms behind his back and legs bound. Tom was sitting on the floor by the camp bed, smoking a cigarette. One leg was out in front of him, the other was bent up and he was resting his arms on that knee. Stan crouched next to him and they were talking together in low voices. They both glanced up as I came into the doorway.

  My face must have communicated to Tom what was happening. I saw a flash of panic in his eyes before they became as blank as stone. In an instant his face was calm. He had that familiar small, sharp crease between his dark eyebrows.

  Betty pushed the gun into my back to urge me a little further forward.

  ‘I’ve got Nobbie’s gun. I don’t want to hurt anyone,’ she said. ‘I just want my money and some of my stuff. Then I want to go.’

  Stan made a movement and Betty shoved the gun hard, so that I jerked forward.

  ‘If anyone moves without me telling them to – if anyone does anything at all without me telling them to – I’ll shoot Meg. I won’t think. I’ll shoot her. I don’t want to shoot her. A gunshot will be heard and someone will call the police and I don’t want that. But if I’m going to hang anyway, I don’t care if Meg dies. So, any movement and I’ll shoot her.’

  Tom and Stan both nodded. Chad threw back his head and made a high whinnying sound. I was confused until I realised he was laughing.

  ‘They thought it was me who killed Doreen. Can you believe it, Bet?’ His face contorted. ‘Tell them to let me go, Betty. I’ve got money. I need some dope. Give me some dope, will you?’

  ‘Shut up.’ Betty’s voice was shrill. ‘You disgust me. You and Tom Lagrange. Neither of you give me the time of day until you need something. Betty’s not good enough for the officers. She can go with the ratings. She can go with funny-looking Nobbie Wilder. But when you want something, then it’s “Please, Betty. You’re a beaut, Betty. Can I have some dope, Betty?’’?’ She sniffed again. ‘Nobbie was better than both of you. And now he’s dead.’

  ‘I have never asked you for anything, Betty.’ Tom’s voice was low.

  ‘No,’ Betty snapped back. ‘You used poor Doreen instead. Used her up. Now she’s dead, too. I hate you all.’

  She pushed me further into the room and I stumbled a little. Her hand was hard on my arm. ‘Watch it,’ she said, steadying me.

  We stood there for a few seconds, just inside the doorway. I could hear her breathing loudly through her mouth. There was the rattle of mucous in every breath.

  ‘Stan, get up,’ she said. ‘There’s a hiding place under the boards in the corner. Under the rug over there.’ She must have gestured with her head because Tom and Stan both looked towards the far left corner. ‘Pull up the rug and take up the boards.’

  Stan did as she asked. When he had pulled out four small pieces of floorboard, I could see a square of darkness in the floor.

  ‘Take out the box that’s in there.’

  Stan reached into the hole and pulled out a metal box. Betty fumbled behind me, and I felt her move as she threw a key to Stan.

  ‘Take out the money that’s in there.’

  Stan unlocked the box, reached in and pulled out a wad of banknotes. I estimated it might come to a few hundred pounds. Tears came into my eyes. It was a small sum for Doreen’s life. Two lives, if you counted Nobbie. Three, if Jimmy was dead.

  ‘Bring it over here.’

  Stan moved towards us, holding the money in front of him as if it were a dead rat. There was hatred in his face as he looked beyond me at Betty.

  ‘Where’s Jimmy? Did you kill Jimmy?’ He spat out the words.

  ‘Give the money to Meg.’

  Stan handed the wad to me. It was slightly damp from his hands and I held it uncomfortably, unsure what Betty wanted me to do with it.

  ‘Did you kill Jimmy?’ Stan had the single-mindedness of youth.

  ‘I didn’t kill anyone.’

  ‘Did he kill Jimmy?’ Stan pointed to the lump that had been Nobbie. ‘Did you tell him to kill Jimmy?’

  The gun at my back jerked again. Please, Stan, don’t upset the crazy woman with the gun. I stayed absolutely still, not daring to look at Tom.

  ‘Did you get him to kill Jimmy?’ Stan’s voice rose into a keening sort of wail as tears spilled onto his cheeks. ‘Where’s my brother?’

  I felt the gun jerk again. Betty pushed it hard into my back and I thrust my torso forward to relieve the pressure.

  ‘Shut up!’ Her voice was high and strained. ‘We didn’t touch Jimmy. I don’t know where he is. I didn’t kill anyone.’

  ‘Stan.’ Tom’s voice was hard and brutal. ‘Get back over here. Now.’

  Stan swallowed. I saw anger flare in his eyes, but he turned around, went back to Tom and sat beside him on the floor. Tom took his arm and squeezed it gently.

  ‘It wasn’t my fault that Doreen died.’ Betty’s voice was high and fast. ‘She shouldn’t have had a go at Nobbie. He got mad when she started making threats.’

  Betty swung around to face Tom, forcing me along with her.

  ‘It was your fault. She wanted heroin for you. It was always for you. Anything for you. She couldn’t get it from the hospital any more, so she asked Nobbie.’

  Tom had become very white, but the cool, almost supercilious expression was still on his face and his voice was flat. ‘Nobbie stabbed Doreen because she asked him for dope? That makes no sense, Betty.’

  ‘Nobbie said he couldn’t give her any. First she got all flirty and said she’d sleep with him, and then she got angry and started to make stupid threats. But it was true.’ Betty’s voice rose in indignation. ‘We couldn’t get heroin any more; we couldn’t even get morphine. That was Doreen’s fault, too. She’d taken too much and the hospital was looking into it.’

  Betty sniffed loudly. ‘Doreen told Nobbie that if he didn’t get her some she’d dob us in.’ There was a sound like a sob. ‘We’d been good to Doreen, Nobbie and me. She shouldn’t’ve made threats like that.’

  ‘So Nobbie stabbed her.’

  ‘He didn’t mean to stab her, it just happened.’

  ‘He stabbed her in the heart, Betty. It wasn’t an accident.’

  ‘It was an accident.’ Betty was defiant. ‘He g
ot angry and didn’t think about what he was doing. It just happened.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Because I was there. I was waiting for him at the hole he’d dug for the scraps. He ran back to tell me what happened and I told him we could put her body in the hole. Cover her over and no one would ever know what happened to her. They’d think she’d run off. Only he’d left the spade back at camp, so he went to get it. When we went to get her, she’d gone.’

  ‘You must have been worried to find her gone.’

  ‘We thought she must still be alive. Of course we were worried,’ she snapped.

  ‘Then she turned up dead in that air raid shelter. That must have worried you, too.’

  ‘We were scared that someone was trying to give us a message – Nobbie was in business with some really tough men. It made no sense that she was in that shelter. But then the police thought Frank had done it, so we were in the clear. Until Cec McLean told me that Jimmy was in the bush that night, too.’

  Betty’s breathing quickened. ‘Cec said he was going to sell you information and we didn’t know what to do. But when Nobbie met Cec at the pub last Friday Cec was angry that you hadn’t paid him.’

  She was crying now. I could hear the wet sniffing behind me increase.

  ‘So Nobbie got him drunk,’ she said. ‘And Cec told him that Jimmy saw Doreen in the bush that night, and that he’d heard her talking to someone.’

  ‘So you got worried about Jimmy.’

  ‘Of course we did.’ Betty sounded irritated. ‘We didn’t know what Jimmy knew.’

  ‘So you decided to stop him from talking?’ Tom’s voice was almost hypnotic. There was no intonation at all; his voice flowed over us like cool water.

  ‘Nobbie said it was the only thing to do. With Jimmy gone there was nothing against us at all.’

  Tom was holding Stan’s arm in such a tight grip his knuckles were white, and Stan was sitting so still he was scarcely breathing. He stared fixedly at a spot in front of him as tears trickled down a face that was set into a mask of utter loathing.

  Betty sniffed. ‘It wasn’t my idea. It was Nobbie’s idea. I like Jimmy.’ Her voice faded, then she said, more firmly, ‘We didn’t kill Jimmy. He wouldn’t come into the house. Nobbie didn’t touch him. I don’t know where he is.’