'No one knows anything,' I said to Marian. 'Bromwich is out. He'll call when he gets back.'
'Do you think they have been kidnapped?' Marian asked suddenly. 'It's possible, isn't it?'
That jolted me. I wanted the police to learn of the kidnapping through Helen and no one else. Then I remembered they were probably hearing Helen's story right at this minute and I relaxed.
'Could be, but we mustn't jump to conclusions. It's a job for the police. Now look, will you carry on just as if Mrs. Dester is still here? I've got to call Burnett.'
'I don't want to stay here, Glyn,' Marian said. 'There's an atmosphere in this house that scares me. I don't like being alone here.'
'I can understand that, but you can't leave yet. The police will want to talk to you again. Mrs. Dester may want your help. You will wait until they are found, won't you? I tell you what we'll do. I'll move into your room and you take over mine. You won't mind being in the garage apartment alone, will you?'
'I'd prefer it.'
'Okay. Well, you pack your stuff and I'll take it over. You can help me move my stuff. You start now while I call Burnett.'
I wanted to get her out of the lounge. Talking to her was a strain while I had so much on my mind.
When she had gone I called Burnett and told him there was no news. He said he would get in touch with the Chief of Police who was a friend of his and get some action.
'Has the Press been on to you yet?'
'Not yet.'
'If they do, refer them to me. I'll handle them.'
That was a weight off my mind. I said I'd do it and hung up.
As I was moving to the stairs to warn Marian not to talk to the Press if they arrived, I heard a car pull up and I went to the front door.
Bromwich and Lewis were getting out.
I felt my mouth turn dry. Why hadn't they brought Helen with them? Had they arrested her? Somehow I kept my face expressionless; somehow I forced myself to stand still and not to give way to the impulse to turn and bolt out of the house.
They came up the steps. Bromwich looked tired, as if he had been up all night. He nodded to me, then walked into the lounge and sat down. Lewis remained out in the hall.
'This is a puzzler,' Bromwich said, stretching out his short, thick legs as he stared up at me. 'These two are playing some sort of game and I'll be damned if I know what it is.'
'What do you mean?' My voice sounded off-key.
'We've found the Rolls. It was ditched in West 9th Street. He's taken the suitcase. There's no sign of them.'
There's no sign of them!
That must mean the staff at the forestry station hadn't reported finding Helen. I crossed over to the bar for the cigarette-box, not wanting him to see my face. Could it be possible that the hut I had left Helen in wasn't often used? Was she still lying on the floor, bound hand and foot, waiting for someone to find her?
I felt sweat start out on my face at the thought. It wasn't likely. There were offices in the hut. She had only to bang on the floor with her feet to attract attention. Had she lost her nerve and asked whoever found her not to call the police? If that was the case, then where was she?
'They were seen by a State trooper around half past ten,' Bromwich went on, 'on Highway 101, heading towards the sanatorium. He passed the car which was travelling slowly. He saw Mrs. Dester at the wheel and Dester beside her. For some reason, they must have turned around and come back to Hollywood, ditched the car and made off. It looks to me as if they are running out on their debts.'
I heard myself say, 'But Dester was a sick man. He couldn't have walked far. If he had taken a bus or a train, he would have been noticed.'
'We're checking the bus stations and trains now,' Bromwich said. He took out a cigar and lit it. 'I'm wondering just how sick this guy was. Did you visit him when he was in bed?'
'Why, yes. That is I looked in from time to time. He was usually asleep.'
Bromwich looked sharply at me, frowned and shifted his position in the chair.
'Well, he could have faked he was worse than he was if he was planning a runout.'
'Miss Temple suggested just now that they have been kidnapped,' I said. I knew it was dangerous to bring this up. It would have been safer to wait until they found Helen, but all this talk about Dester running away from his creditors had to be checked.
Bromwich screwed up his eyes.
'Kidnapped? What makes her think that?'
'Well, they have both disappeared. '
'There's no ransom note.'
I could see he didn't like this idea. He got to his feet and began to pace up and down.
'Edwin Burnett, the attorney who acts for Mr. Dester, is having a word with the Chief of Police,' I said. 'He's calling for action.'
Bromwich stopped short as if he had walked into a brick wall. 'Having a word with the Chief?'
'Yes. Apparently he's a friend of his.'
'Sweet grief! So it's going to be one of those cases! Look, tell that girl to keep her mouth shut about kidnapping. If the Press get hold of that idea.' He broke off, snapping his fingers. 'My luck that Burnett's a friend of the Chiefs. I'm going to get run ragged. I can see that.' He started to pace up and down again. Then he paused to look at me, 'Has Dester any relations or friends he would visit?'
'He has no relations. I don't know about his friends.'
'That could be it, you know. He might have changed his mind about going to the sanatorium.' Then he stopped short and cursed under his breath. 'No. There's the car. Why the hell did he ditch the car?' He turned and began to pace up and down again. 'Yeah, this could be a snatch. The car points to it. I'd better report to the Chief before he yells for me.'
He went out of the lounge, jerking his head at Lewis as he passed him. Together they hurried down to the car and drove off.
I went over to the bar and gave myself a Scotch. Where was Helen? What had happened to her? The whole of our plan depended on her. I thought of Dester lying in the deep-freeze. If Helen didn't show up soon I would have the job of getting him out of the cabinet on my own. The thought turned me sick.
I had just finished my drink and was mixing myself another when two newspaper men arrived. I had trouble getting rid of them. They didn't seem to be interested in talking to Burnett. They wanted first— hand information from me, but I wouldn't let them in the house, telling them my instructions were to refer all inquiries to Burnett. They went off finally. They hadn't been gone ten minutes before four others turned up complete with a Press photographer. I got rid of them after a struggle, but not before the photographer had taken my photograph.
By this time it was after twelve, and there was still no news of Helen. I was by now fit to walk up a wall, and when Marian came down to ask me to carry her suitcases over to the garage apartment it was as much as I could do to be civil to her.
She offered to get me lunch, but I said I had to go out. I took the Buick and headed out towards Highway 101, but I didn't get far. I realized that if I were seen, it would be a complete give away. I had to let the police find Helen. I didn't dare look for her myself. I drove over to Burnett's office in the hope of getting some news from him, but I was told he was in court.
I returned to the house. There was still no news of Helen. There could now be three explanations for her silence: the police were holding her, waiting for me to make a wrong move; she hadn't been found yet, or she had lost her nerve, got free and bolted, leaving me to hold the bag.
I decided I had to go out to the forestry station after dark. I had to find out if she was still there.
* * *
The evening newspapers carried the story of Dester's disappearance under a banner headline.
There was a photograph of me talking to the reporters on the front page of the Hollywood Monitor. The caption under the photograph read: Glyn Nash, Erle Dester's secretary, holds off reporters in their attempt to learn the truth of Dester's disappearance.
There was no mention of Dester's debts. The Chief of P
olice, in an interview with the Press, said that it looked as if Dester had been kidnapped although no ransom note had as yet been received. He said that he was organizing an intensive search for the missing couple.
And yet even with all this publicity, there was still no news of Helen.
Around seven o'clock, Burnett telephoned.
'We're coming out to the house at eleven o'clock tomorrow morning, Nash,' he told me. 'It looks as if they have been kidnapped, and we'll want to talk to you and Miss Temple. I shall want to go through Mr. Dester's papers. You might have everything ready for me. If you have a list of what he owes.'
I said I would have everything ready for him.
'There's no news then?' I asked.
'Nothing. It's extraordinary. Stay by the telephone, Nash. You may get a ransom call. Notify the police and myself if you do.'
I said I would and hung up. But I knew there would be no ransom call. I had to go out to the forestry station, but first I had to get rid of Marian.
We sat in the lounge listening to the radio and talking in a desultory fashion until just after ten. How I contained myself I'll never know, but at half past ten I suggested she should go to bed.
'I'm out of cigarettes,' I said. 'I'll take the car and get a pack at the end of the road. I won't be long.'
'I don't want to be a nuisance, Glyn,' she said, 'but I do hate being alone here. Suppose the kidnappers ring up?'
'Okay, I won't go then,' I said. 'I've got enough to last me until tomorrow morning. I'll see you over to the garage apartment. Then I'll turn in myself. I'm pretty well whacked after no sleep last night. I expect you can do with some sleep yourself.'
We went over to the garage apartment.
'I shall leave tomorrow, Glyn,' Marian said as we entered the sitting room. 'I can't stay here any longer. I'll get a job somewhere and find a room.'
'Burnett will be coming tomorrow morning. We'll talk to him. I don't want to stay myself,' I said.
'You'll be all right here for tonight. Don't run out on me, Marian.'
She smiled. 'No, but I hate it here. There's such a horrible atmosphere. '
'Let's talk about it tomorrow.'
I kissed her and then went down the stairs, through the garage and out on to the driveway. Fortunately I hadn't put the Buick away. The drive from the garage was steeply sloped. I opened the car door, slid under the driving wheel and released the parking brake. The car rolled down the drive. It kept going to the gates, then, knowing Marian wouldn't now be able to hear the engine start up, I switched on the ignition.
I knew what I was doing was dangerous. I could be walking right into a trap. If Helen had been arrested, it was possible the police were waiting for me at the forestry station. If they caught me there, they wouldn't need any other evidence to tie me in with Helen. But I had to take the risk.
Suppose she had skipped? I asked myself. What was I going to do? Skip myself? The only other alternative would be to give the police the whole story, show them where Dester was and put as much blame on to Helen as I could.
I pushed that thought hastily out of my mind. That must be the last alternative. I wished now I hadn't been so damned smart. I wished I had never thought up this crazy plan. I cursed myself for going back with Dester to his house on the night we first met.
As I drove along Highway 101 I kept my eyes open for the sight of any State trooper, but I didn't see one.
I slowed down when I was a quarter of a mile from the dirt road that led to the forestry station. Ahead of me was a lay-by. I pulled into it, turned off the car's lights and cut the engine. I didn't intend to drive up that dirt road in case the police were waiting for me. I would sneak up there on foot, giving them no warning of my approach. With any luck I might spot them if they were there and duck out of sight before they saw me.
I reached the opening to the road after six or seven minutes. There was no moon; only stars, and it wasn't easy to see where I was going. I moved as silently as I could, not hurrying. I kept to the centre of the road, my ears and eyes alert.
It took me a little over a quarter of an hour to reach the barbed-wire gate. I could just make out the outlines of the gate in the semi-darkness. It stood open, the way I had left it when I had driven away the previous night.
I stood still, staring at the gate. Did that mean anything? Did it mean no one had been here since last night? Or was this a smart move of the police to lull me into walking into their trap?
My heart was beating violently as I stood listening, staring beyond the gate at the dim outlines of the three huts. There was no sign of life, no light showed, and the only sound I could hear was the thumping of my heart.
I moved forward cautiously, and finally reached the hut where I had left Helen. I paused outside the door, listening, then very gently I put my hand on the door and pushed. It moved and swung open.
Why hadn't the lock been repaired? It was just as I had left it. Could this mean no one had been to the hut or was this again a smart move of the police who were waiting for me somewhere in the darkness beyond?
I had to see. I couldn't run away now, although I wanted to. I took out my flashlight and thumbed down the switch. The bright beam lit up the passage. The doors on either side of the passage were shut. I moved forward, making no sound, listening, my heart pounding. Slowly, I crept down the passage to the door leading into the room where I had left Helen. The door stood ajar.
I couldn't remember if I had left it like that or if I had closed it.
Were the police in there, waiting for me?
I couldn't nerve myself to push open the door. I stood, staring at it, the beam of my flashlight lighting up the panels.
In a croaking whisper I said, 'Is anyone there?'
The silence that came out of the room was like a physical thing: worse even than the sound of a voice.
I took another step forward, reached out a shaking hand, and touched the door panel. The door swung open with a little squeak that set my teeth on edge.
I sent the beam of the flashlight into the room, along the floor to where I had left Helen.
The beam picked up the pale green of her skirt and her long, slender legs in their torn nylon stockings.
I stood staring at her, scarcely believing my eyes. I could see the cord still around her ankles. I moved forward, cold and shaking. The light moved up her body to her face. The silk scarf was still tightly bound around her mouth. Her eyes were half open, and they looked sightlessly into the beam of the light.
She looked shrunken and like a doll. The dreadful grey, waxy texture of her skin told me she was dead.
chapter eleven
How long I stood staring down at her, I shall never know. It was only when I heard a car coming up the dirt road and saw the reflection of its headlights through the window that I was galvanized into action.
I lurched to the window and looked out.
The car was coming through the gateway. The red glow on the hood told me it was a police car.
For perhaps three or four seconds I stood rooted, staring out of the window, staring at the approaching car, and when finally it sank into my paralysed mind that in a moment they would be in here and would catch me red-handed, it was too late to escape by the front entrance.
Feverishly I tried to raise the window, but it had jammed and my efforts made no impression on it. I heard the entrance door open. I was now trapped in this room. In seconds they would come in and find me.
I looked wildly around for a hiding place. Right by me were the four big, wooden crates. Dropping down on hands and knees I eased one of them from the wall. I was lucky. This one was empty and without a lid. I turned it on its side with the open end towards the wall and I slid into it. There was just room for me to squat down. It wasn't much of a hiding place, but there was just the chance they wouldn't expect anyone to be hiding here and wouldn't search the room.
I heard a man's voice say, 'Stay with the car, Jackson. Come on, let's have a look at this joint.'
<
br /> My heart contracted as I recognized Bromwich's voice.
I heard him walk into the passage, turn a door handle and walk into the office I had entered when I had first come here.
Lewis's voice said sharply, 'See that, the window's broken.'
'Doesn't mean anything,' Bromwich said curtly. 'This place has been up for sale now for a month. The news gets around. Probably some bum broke in to see what he could pick up.'
'There was someone out here last night,' Lewis said. 'Car lights were seen from the highway. This could be where they were brought after they were snatched, Lieutenant. They were heading this way when MacTavish passed them.'
Bromwich grunted. 'Nothing in here.'
I heard them come out and cross the passage into the room on the right. I was suspended in a cold, terrified vacuum. If they found me here, they would think I had killed her and they'd send me to the gas chamber.
'I guess we're wasting our time,' Bromwich said from the other room. 'I still think they've skipped. Ditching the car could be his idea of throwing us off his trail. While we're working on this kidnapping idea, he's probably on a ship for Europe.'
'The Chief doesn't think so,' Lewis said.
'He looks for trouble,' Bromwich said sourly, 'but he doesn't have to run himself ragged like I do. I'd think it was a snatch myself if all I had to do was to sit behind a desk and hand out cockeyed orders.’
'We may as well check this last room,' Lewis said.
I held my breath as I heard the door push open. The beam of a powerful flashlight swung into the room. I closed my eyes, squeezing myself against the wall of the crate.
'For sweet Pete's sake!' Bromwich exclaimed.
I heard him move forward.
'It's the Dester woman!' Lewis said. His voice sounded excited. 'The description fits her. Is she cold?'
1956 - There's Always a Price Tag Page 16