The Thousand Faces of Night (1961)

by Jack Higgins

  Papa Magellan adjusted his spectacles and picked up his newspaper. 'I'm not interested.'

  There was another moment of silence and then O'Connor exploded. 'You damned old fool, you've got to accept. You'll be ruined otherwise.'

  The old man looked at Marlowe, an expression of distaste on his face. 'Get him out of here, Hugh,' he said. 'The place is beginning to smell bad.'

  O'Connor lurched to his feet and moved forward. 'I'm warning you,' he said threateningly. 'This is your last chance. After this I'll run you off the roads and I won't be too particular how I do it.'

  Marlowe gripped him firmly by the arm and propelled him towards the door. Papa Magellan put down his paper and removed his spectacles. 'Just a minute, Hugh.'

  Marlowe stopped in the doorway, his hand still gripping O'Connor's arm and the old man said, 'I've known you a long time, O'Connor. We've stood each other more drinks than I can remember. I never approved of some of the ways you made your money, but that didn't mean I disliked you.'

  O'Connor tried to pull away and Marlowe tightened his grip painfully. 'Keep still,' he said threateningly.

  'I don't know what happened to you,' Papa Magellan continued, 'but during the past year you've turned into a wild beast. Anyone who gets in your way you destroy.' He shook his head and spoke very deliberately. 'Well, I give you fair warning. I've had enough. If you harm anyone or anything belonging to me from now on, I'll seek you out and destroy you for the mad dog that you are.'

  He turned back to his newspaper, his hands trembling slightly, and Marlowe pushed O'Connor through the door and along the corridor.

  O'Connor seemed to have difficulty in negotiating the stairs and when they reached the bottom he suddenly clutched at the wall, gasping for air, one hand tearing at his collar.

  The attack was obviously genuine. Marlowe pushed him down into a chair and loosened his tie and collar. O'Connor's face had turned purple and his lips assumed a peculiar bluish tinge. Marlowe went quickly into the living-room and returned with a glass of brandy.

  O'Connor gulped at it greedily and brandy trickled down his chin and soaked into his shirt front. After a few moments his breathing was easier. He smiled weakly up at Marlowe. 'One of these days I'll have one too many of these attacks.'

  Marlowe nodded soberly. 'You're carrying too much weight around. It's a wonder your heart's lasted out this long.'

  O'Connor struggled to his feet. 'When I was younger I was just like you, son. Big and strong as an ox. Then something went wrong with my glands.' He grinned and coughed several times into his handkerchief. When he looked up moisture streamed from his eyes. 'It's a vale of tears,' he wheezed. 'You never know what's going to happen next.'

  Marlowe laughed coldly. 'My heart bleeds for you.'

  He took O'Connor by the arm and helped him out to the car and the fat man leaned heavily on him, every step an effort.

  When he was safely seated behind the wheel, Marlowe slammed the car door and said, 'I don't want to see your face round here again.'

  O'Connor pressed the starter and leaned out of the window. 'You tell the old man to think it over,' he said. 'I'll give him until tonight. I'll be at the warehouse till nine. He can phone me there.'

  Before Marlowe could reply his car moved rapidly away across the farmyard in a burst of speed, swerving dangerously as it went through the gate, narrowly avoiding a collision with the Bedford which was about to enter.

  Mac halted the truck beside Marlowe and leaned out of the window. 'Hey there, man,' he said. 'It's good to see you. How did it go?'

  Marlowe raised a thumb. 'Perfect. I'd no difficulty in getting rid of the stuff at all. In fact, I've promised another load for tomorrow.'

  Maria had jumped down from the other side of the cab and she came round, a smile of welcome on her face. 'Was it really a success, Hugh?' she said excitedly.

  Marlowe nodded. 'A hundred and sixty quid I got,' he told her. 'As long as we can make up a full load each time, there'll be no difficulty in making it pay.'

  'Who was that crazy guy who just left in the saloon?' Mac demanded.

  Marlowe grinned. 'No less a person than Mr O'Connor himself.'

  An expression of alarm crossed Maria's face. 'What did he want, Hugh? Has there been any trouble?'

  Marlowe shook his head. 'There's nothing to worry about. He was here on business. He offered to buy your father out again, but the old man wasn't interested.'

  She looked puzzled. 'But what made him try again, I wonder? Papa told him very definitely last time that nothing would make him sell.'

  'Yes, but things have changed some since then,' Mac put in. 'We've got him on the run now. And what's more, he knows it.'

  The girl turned to Marlowe. 'Do you think that's it, Hugh?' she demanded.

  Marlowe nodded reassuringly. 'That's about the size of it, angel. There's nothing to worry about. You go on up to your father and Mac and I will see to this load.'

  She smiled in relief and went into the house. Marlowe went round to the other side of the truck and climbed up beside Mac and they drove down into the barn.

  'Did you have any trouble on the way?' Mac asked when he had switched off the engine.

  Marlowe lit a cigarette and nodded. 'Plenty,' he said and gave the Jamaican a quick summary of the events of the previous night.

  When he had finished Mac whistled softly. 'Man, it was a good thing you took that shotgun along.'

  Marlowe nodded. 'You're telling me.'

  They climbed down from the cab and Mac said, 'Do you think they'll try anything tonight?'

  'I don't know,' Marlowe frowned. 'I still can't quite understand why O'Connor turned up here today. It doesn't fit.' He grinned and slapped the Jamaican on the shoulder. 'Anyway, not to worry. You can take the shotgun along, just in case.' He shook his head. 'Somehow I don't think you'll need it.'

  Mac nodded and said feelingly, 'I hope not.' As they walked round to the back of the truck he added, 'I'd sure like to know how Miss Jenny's getting on. I hate to think of her being mixed up with that mob.'

  Marlowe frowned slightly. 'That's one thing I can't understand,' he said. 'O'Connor must be anxious to know what's happened to her and yet he never mentioned it to me.'

  Mac considered the point for a moment. 'Perhaps she phoned through from London this morning and told him she wasn't coming back. I can't see her having anything more to do with him after the way she's been treated.'

  'I wish I could be as sure,' Marlowe said and lowered the tailboard of the truck.

  He yawned and closed his eyes momentarily as a tremendous wave of tiredness enveloped him. Mac put a hand gently on his shoulder. 'Why don't you go in and have a few hours' sleep. You sure could use some.' Marlowe started to protest and Mac gave him a push towards the door. 'Go on, boy, I can manage this lot on my own.'

  He found it an effort to mount the stairs and when he passed along the corridor he could hear the murmur of voices from Papa Magellan's room as Maria talked to her father. For a moment he paused, undecided whether to go in or not, and then he went on to the far end of the corridor and opened the door of his own room.

  He pulled off his jacket and sat wearily down on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes. He started to unbutton his shirt, but suddenly the effort seemed too great and he fell backwards. As his head struck the pillow he dived head first into darkness.

  He came awake to find a hand on his shoulder. Mac was leaning over him, warmly dressed in a jeep coat with a woollen scarf round his neck and gloves on his hands. Marlowe sat up with a start and looked at his watch. It was almost seven-thirty and outside the sky was darkening rapidly.

  'Why on earth didn't you wake me?' he said as he swung his legs to the floor.

  Mac grinned. 'There wasn't any need, man. I managed to do most of the loading on my own and that old guy Dobie who works in the greenhouses, turned up to help me finish.' He smacked one gloved hand against another. 'Well, I'm raring to go. If anyone gets in my way tonight I'll roll straight over th
em.'

  Marlowe pulled on his shoes and stood up. 'That's the style,' he said. 'Have you got the shotgun in the cab?' Mac nodded and Marlowe went on: 'Good, it gives you some kind of insurance, but don't stop for anything or anybody.'

  Mac grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. 'Don't worry about me, man. Nothing's going to stop me this time.'

  They went downstairs and out into the yard where the truck stood waiting. A chill breeze was blowing carrying a hint of rain with it and Marlowe shivered. 'It looks like being a murky night.'

  Maria appeared from behind him, the thermos flask and a packet of sandwiches in her hand. 'Be careful,' she urged Mac as she handed them up to him.

  He grinned down at them and revved up the engine. 'Don't you worry about me, Miss Maria. I feel really lucky tonight. Just like I used to feel before a big fight.'

  He waved once and the truck lurched away across the yard, paused for a moment at the gate, and moved into the darkness, its red tail light growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared.

  Maria sighed as she turned to go back into the house and Marlowe said, 'Don't worry, angel. He'll be all right this time.'

  'I hope so,' she said. The telephone started to ring from the living-room and she went to answer it. After a few moments she returned, annoyance on her face. 'It's for you.'

  Marlowe was surprised. 'Who is it?'

  'Find out for yourself.' Maria tossed her head and disappeared into the kitchen, banging the door.

  As Marlowe approached the telephone he could hear a voice calling anxiously. He picked up the receiver. 'Hugh Marlowe here. Who's speaking?'

  'Hugh, is that you? Thank God you're still there.' It was Jenny O'Connor and she sounded frightened.

  'So you decided to return after all,' Marlowe said. 'I hoped you'd have more sense.'

  'Never mind that now.' She was almost sobbing. 'I must see you. Can you come to the flat?'

  He frowned. 'I'm rather busy at the moment.'

  'Please, Hugh, I'm in terrible trouble. You must help me.' There was desperation in her voice.

  For a moment he hesitated and then he sighed. 'All right. Where are you.'

  'At the flat,' she said. 'How soon can I expect you?'

  He glanced at his watch. 'About eight-thirty.' She started to say something else and he cut her short. 'You can tell me when I get there,' he said and replaced the receiver.

  He went up to the bedroom for his jacket and a scarf. When he came downstairs Maria was standing in the hall, drying her hands on her apron. 'Well, what did she want?' she demanded.

  For a moment he was tempted to explain and then a feeling of annoyance took control and he said, 'What the hell has it got to do with you? If you must know, she wants me to go and see her.'

  'And you'll go running to her,' Maria stormed jealously. 'She's got you just where she wants you. You're like a puppet on a string.'

  He turned and walked out into the night before she could say any more. He took one of the two remaining trucks and drove into Barford, seething with anger. What right had she to say what he should, and should not, do? He cursed and swung the wheel savagely as he skidded on a dangerous bend. She'd appointed herself his conscience, judging everything he did and always finding him guilty. He lit a cigarette and began to calm down. After a while he was even smiling again. Now that he had the money he wouldn't have to put up with her much longer. A few more days at the most.

  The truck skidded and lurched over the greasy cobbles of the square and he turned into the side street that led to Jenny O'Connor's flat and pulled into the pavement. He switched off the engine and walked the rest of the way.

  He approached the flat cautiously and stood in the entrance of the court, his eyes carefully searching the shadows. After a moment or two he was satisfied and crossed to the door and rang the bell.

  There was a short silence before footsteps approached and he heard her call, 'Who is it?'

  'It's Marlowe,' he told her.

  A bolt was withdrawn and a key clicked in the lock before the door opened to disclose her pale, frightened face. 'What's all the fuss about?' he demanded.

  She pulled him inside and locked and bolted the door again before turning to him. 'Oh, Hugh, darling. You've no idea how glad I am to see you.' She threw her arms around his neck.

  Marlowe held her for a little while and then gently pushed her away and frowned. 'What's been going on here?'

  She led him into the lounge and pulled him down on to the settee beside her. 'I got back late this afternoon,' she said. 'I hadn't been in long when my uncle arrived.' She shuddered at the memory. 'He was almost insane with rage. He said I was a traitor and accused me of helping you. I told him I was leaving.'

  'And what was his reaction to that?'

  An expression of disgust crossed her face. 'He slapped me twice and knocked me down.' She pulled away the neck of her dress to disclose a livid bruise on her right shoulder. 'Look, that's what he did to me. He said I didn't have the guts to leave him. He took all my money and jewellery. Even my fur coat. He said I'd soon come to my senses.'

  Marlowe leaned back, eyes narrowed. 'Frankly, it doesn't sound like a very healthy relationship to me. Did he ever make a pass at you?'

  She shook her head. 'No, never. To tell you the truth, I used to wonder at first if he thought about me in that way, but until today he's always behaved perfectly.'

  'Why did you lock the door?' Marlowe asked.

  She smiled wanly. 'He sent Monaghan round to pick up my car. He tried to get into the house, and I had to slam the door in his face.' An expression of loathing appeared in her eyes. 'He called to me for ages through the letter-box.' She shuddered. 'The things he was saying were horrible.'

  Marlowe scowled and clenched a fist. 'Don't worry about that, angel. Next time he crosses my path I intend to pay him back for a few things.'

  She went to the cocktail cabinet and poured a whisky and soda. She smiled wryly as she handed it to him. 'What on earth am I going to do, Hugh? I've made such a mess of things.'

  Marlowe put his drink down carefully. 'Why did you come back?'

  'Because I'm weak,' she said candidly. 'Because the moment I was alone in London this morning, all my good intentions left me and I was afraid. Afraid of being on my own against the world. Afraid of not having any money.'

  'Afraid of having to work for a living?' he asked, gently.

  She made a face. 'Don't be cruel, Hugh. I know I'm weak. At least I'm honest about it. I came back because I thought I might be able to compromise, but instead I find that I've got to take sides.'

  'And whose side are you on?'

  An expression of hurt shadowed her eyes. 'Do I have to tell you?' she said. 'Do I really have to tell you?'

  He stared into her beautiful, childlike face, and the old warmth moved inside him. He leaned towards her, and she slipped a hand behind his neck and fell backwards against the cushions, pulling him down. He felt the softness of her pressed against him, yielding to him, and he crushed his mouth against hers.

  After a while, she pulled away slightly. 'I'm so glad I got through to you before you started for London.'

  Marlowe kissed the warm hollow of her neck. 'I'm not going to London.'

  'But why not?' she said in surprise. 'I thought it was essential for you to do another trip?'

  'It is,' he told her. 'But Mac's gone tonight.'

  'Oh, I see.' There was silence for a while and then she said, 'Hugh, what are we going to do?'

  He grunted and kissed her shoulder. 'Hell, I don't know,' he said. 'I'll be moving on soon, I suppose.'

  She stiffened and said sharply, 'I see.' There was another short silence. 'I believe my uncle called on you this afternoon?'

  Marlowe pushed himself up and reached for a cigarette. 'That's right. He had a heart attack, as a matter of fact. I thought at first he was going to peg out on us.'

  She played nervously with the collar of her dress. 'Yes, he's had several attacks.' She took a deep breath and we
nt on, 'As a matter of fact I happen to know he's only got six months to live at the most.'

  Marlowe paused, his glass half-way to his lips. 'That's interesting,' he said. 'It gives the Magellans some hope, anyway.'

  She jumped up angrily. 'Oh, damn the Magellans. Can't you think of anything else?' She paced nervously across the floor and then swung round to face him. 'I'll put it in a nutshell for you. My uncle is going to die. Perhaps tonight or tomorrow, certainly within the next few months, and I'm his sole heir.'

  Marlowe swallowed his whisky. 'So what?'

  'Can't you see?' she said. 'If only you can persuade the Magellans to sell and we get everything back on an even keel, then it's only a matter of waiting.'

  'Waiting for what?' Marlowe said softly.

  She sighed impatiently. 'For my uncle to die. Then I'll get the business and you can run it for me. Don't you see, darling? We'll be secure for life.'

  Marlowe carefully stubbed out his cigarette and stood up. 'You'll be secure for life, you mean.' He walked past her and went out into the hall.

  She ran after him and grabbed at his shoulder as he started to unlock the front door. 'What's wrong?' she demanded. 'What are you doing?'

  He pulled away from her and opened the door. 'I'm going,' he said. 'Why shouldn't I? You haven't any claim on me.'

  There was an expression of complete shock on her face. She shook her head dumbly. 'I don't understand.'

  'I could say it in four-letter words,' Marlow told her, 'but even I have certain standards.' She still looked puzzled, and he sighed. 'Let's put it this way, angel. I've met all sorts, but you take the prize.' He shook his head. 'You don't even know what I'm talking about, do you? People like you never do.'

  For a brief moment she continued to stare at him in that dumb, uncomprehending way, and then fury blazed in her eyes and she slashed her hand across his face. 'Get out!' she screamed. 'Go on! Get out!'

  He gripped her wrists tightly and held her against him, fury moving inside him. She glared at him for a moment, and spat in his face. And then she called him a certain name.