Nothing More Than Murder

by Jim Thompson

  “What’s the idea, Andy?” I said. “You know you can’t rent this building. I’ve got it under lease.”

  “But not the right kind of lease, Joe.” He waggled his head. “That twenty-five a month don’t hardly pay my taxes.”

  “I can’t help that. I—”

  “How’s your hand?”

  “What?” I said. “Why, it’s all right.”

  “Looks like a pretty bad burn. How’d you get it?”

  “Oh, hell,” I said, without thinking. “When you’re working around motion-picture equipment you’re liable to—”

  “Got it over to the show, huh?”

  “Where else would I get it? Now, damnit, Andy get that sign—”

  “You could have got it up to your house. Out there in the garage. There could have been something wrong with the machinery out there. Somethin’ that you let go without fixing an’ that started the fire.”

  “And wouldn’t that tickle you pink?” I said. But my heart began to beat faster.

  “You didn’t get that burn at the show, Joe.”

  “The hell I didn’t!”

  “Huh-uh. I saw you that night when you were hangin’ out around the front of the Barclay, and you didn’t have nothing wrong with your hand. But you did the next morning when I talked with you up at your house. Reckon you remember, all right. You told me then that you’d cut it on a bottle.”

  “Well,” I said, “maybe I—” But what was the use lying about it? With my hand unwrapped anyone could see that it was a burn.

  “Still want to take the sign down, Joe?”

  I hesitated and shook my head. “To tell the truth, I don’t care either way. If anyone wants to try to compete with the Barclay in this rattrap they can hop to it.”

  “I’ll take it down.”

  “Suit yourself,” I said.

  “I’ll take it down. I just wanted to see how you felt about things.” He pulled the sign loose from its tacks and crumpled it, grinning. “I reckon you and me had better have a good long talk, Joe. Private.”

  “I’m busy,” I said. “I’ve got a lot of business to catch up with.”

  “It ain’t as important as mine. Think it over, Joe.”

  He let out a mean cackle and shuffled off down the street. And I let him go. I didn’t give him the horse laugh or tell him to go to hell, as I should have. I couldn’t. If you’re a poker player you know what I mean.

  You’re holding, say, kings full in a big pot and everyone has laid down but you and one other guy, a guy with a big stack. And he gives your chips the once-over, counting ’em, and antes for exactly that amount. Well? You’d bet your right arm he couldn’t beat your full house, but they’re not taking right arms; just chips. And if you’re wrong you’re out of the game. So you lay down, and the other guy wins—with a pair of deuces.

  I crossed over to the show and went up to the projection booth. Jimmie Nedry wasn’t there and neither was Hap, and the booth was messy as hell. There was even a reel of film left in the right projector. I ran it out, rewound it, and put it in the film cabinet. Then I went back downstairs and looked up and down the street for Jimmie. Show business gets you that way. No matter what else you got on your mind, you can’t forget the show.

  Jimmie lived in a little dump over across the tracks, and he didn’t have a telephone. I was wondering whether I should drive over and see what was up when he and Blair came around the corner in Blair’s car. Blair pulled in a little toward the curb, and I went out to them.

  “My deepest sympathy, Joe,” he said. “I hope you received our floral offering.”

  “Yes, I did,” I said. “Thanks very much, Blair.”

  “I was planning on bringing Jimmie and his wife to the obsequies, but they didn’t feel that they should attend.”

  “Why? Why didn’t you, Jimmie?” I said. “The show was closed. You didn’t need an invitation.”

  “We didn’t because we didn’t have any decent clothes to wear, that’s why!” Jimmie snarled.

  “Well,” I said, “I know you wanted to, anyway. It’s the spirit that counts in these things.”

  Blair threw back his head and laughed.

  “Good old Joe,” he said. “Always right in there pitching, aren’t you?”

  “Somebody’s got to,” I said. “Are you coming in pretty soon, Jimmie? It’s only about an hour until show time.”

  He shook his head without looking at me. “I’m takin’ a couple weeks off.”

  “Huh?” I said.

  “That’s right, Joe.” Blair leaned around him, grinning. “Mr. Chance is giving Jimmie a vacation—at full pay. Don’t tell me you didn’t know about it?”

  “I didn’t, but it’s all right.”

  “Mr. Chance a partner of yours now?”

  “Whatever he does is all right,” I said. “He’s been kind enough to take care of things for me. He’ll probably have to stay on for a while longer.”

  “Well”—Blair stroked his chin—“technically he doesn’t have the owner’s right to operate the projectors. But we’ll play along with you. Under the circumstances.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Don’t mention it, Joe. You don’t owe me a thing.”

  He laughed again, and Jimmie kind of smirked, and they drove off.

  I headed for Hap’s hotel, boiling.

  He was in his room, dressing, when I went up. He had on his pants and shoes, and he came to the door taking the pins out of one of those fancy twenty-dollar shirts.

  “Goddamn you, Hap,” I said. “What’s the idea of giving Jimmie two weeks off? What do you think you’ve got on me, anyway? I suppose you think I’m going to pay him.”

  “Entirely unnecessary, old man. I paid him myself—out of the receipts.”

  “I asked you what the idea was!”

  “Just a sec,” he said. “I’ll open the windows. They can hear us in the next block then as well as this one.”

  I sat down and lowered my voice. “All right. Spill it.”

  “Why, it’s quite simple, laddie. I intend to stay around for a time, and staying requires some justification. Ergo, young James gets a rest; a rest which, even from my conservative viewpoint, seems long overdue.”

  “Generous, aren’t you?” I said.

  “Oh, now, but why shouldn’t I be with your money?” He raised his eyebrows. “As a matter of fact, however, I’m quite taken with Jamie boy. He’s the sort I’ve often found it profitable to cultivate. You know? The humble downtrodden worm with big ears?”

  “If you intend to pump him about me,” I said, “you won’t get much.”

  “Probably not, probably not,” he said. “You always were frightfully clever. And it isn’t really necessary, is it? Still—”

  “What do you want, Hap?”

  “Ah, now that’s being sensible.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, and poked an arm into his shirt. “Shall we say about five thousand dollars?”

  “What for? Why should I give you five grand?”

  “Well, to put it euphemistically, we’ll say it’s for the replacement of sixteen reels of priceless film.”

  “Priceless? That crap!”

  “Or we can say it’s to keep me from doing my unpleasant duty. Unpleasant, that is, from the standpoint of losing five thousand. Aside from that, I really don’t care whether you swing or not.”

  He lit a cigarette and held the match, watching a fly crawl across the scarf of the reading-table. Suddenly, his hand went out and he stabbed it through with a pin. He held it into the flame, turning it while it sputtered and frizzled. He dropped it onto the floor and smeared it with his foot.

  “Dashed funny thing, fire, isn’t it?”

  “Hap,” I said. “Hap, suppose I had known that Sol Panzer was moving in on me, that I was broke. If I was trying to—if I was taking a quick way out, I’d have fired the show. I carry sixty thousand straight on it, plus one-fifty a week operation loss.”

  “Uh-hah.” He nodded. “Exactly the t
hought that occurred to me until I’d inspected your house. A splendid piece of construction, laddie. Utterly fireproof.”

  “But—but I didn’t—”

  “But me not buts, old man. Simply earmark five of the twenty-five thousand now due you as indemnity for your late spouse for yours truly. And please hurry it along. I’m purchasing a new car.”

  “I can’t—there’s no way I can hurry it,” I said.

  “No? I suppose not. Well, it shouldn’t be long at any rate.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  He looked at me sharply. “You haven’t bungled things, have you?”

  “No. I didn’t mean that. Everything’s jake.”

  “If I thought you were going to be turned up anyway—” He paused, frowning. “You know I have a very large conscience. I’m not at all sure that five thousand will be sufficient to salve it.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “I know.”

  I’d been bluffed again. If I’d told him to go to hell in the beginning— But I couldn’t tell him. Not any more than I could have told Andy Taylor to take his sign down. Now, as long as I had anything to get they’d never let up on me. And if either one of them got the idea that I might get the murder pinned on me, they’d step right in and give me a shove.

  A person would be nuts to hold back evidence in a murder case unless he stood to clean up by it. There’s such a thing as being an accessory. Besides, the insurance company would probably come through pretty heavy for information that would save twenty-five grand.

  Hap finished dressing and we went downstairs together. I told him that I was running into the city.

  “Oh?” he said. “You wouldn’t be taking a powder on me, would you?”

  “Do I look stupid!” I said. “Why should I?”

  “No,” he said, “I suppose you wouldn’t. You want to check on my news about Panzer. Is that it?”

  “I want to see if I can do something about it.”

  “Such as?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But I’ve got to make an effort. I’ve got a hundred-thousand-dollar property here. I can’t just sit back and let it slide without lifting a hand.”

  He stood studying me a moment, then nodded and opened the door of the car. He even took me by the elbow and made as if to help me in.

  “Well, the best of luck to you, laddie, and Godspeed and all that rot.”

  “So long,” I said.

  “I have tremendous faith in you, old man. As well as a certain mercenary interest—you know?”

  I drove off without answering. I knew, all right. He’d want a good heavy cut on anything I was able to pull. The more I had the more he and Andy would demand.

  I eased up on the gas just outside of town, and started looking for a crossroads to turn around on. There wasn’t a damned bit of use driving into the city. There wasn’t any way I could stop Panzer, and even if there was what would it get me? It would all go for blackmail.

  As I say, I almost stopped and turned around. And then I stepped on the gas and went on toward the city. But fast.

  Carol? Well, sure, she wasn’t to be overlooked and I hadn’t. But as long as I could keep her from knowing I was skinned clean until afterward it would be all right. As long as she was sure I wasn’t going to run out on her, she really wouldn’t give a whoop about the money.

  Believe it or not, it was Elizabeth who had slipped my mind. With Hap and Andy both tackling me in the space of an hour, Elizabeth had slipped into the background. And, anyway, it wouldn’t have made much difference if she hadn’t. Elizabeth was supposed to be dead. I couldn’t tell Hap or Andy that the twenty-five grand had to go to her.

  It would have to, though. What was it she’d said? “There will be exceedingly unpleasant consequences if your memory should fail you—”

  She’d have to get it all, right up to the last penny. Keeping Hap and Andy quiet wouldn’t mean a thing, otherwise.

  I had to go on. I had to keep the Barclay valuable so that I’d have something to trade for Hap’s and Andy’s silence.

  With the best luck in the world I couldn’t wind up with anything. With a little bad luck—just a little—well—

  It wasn’t right. It was crazy. All this trouble over a woman I didn’t know—hadn’t ever even seen; a woman who, when you got right down to cases, didn’t amount to a damn.

  17

  I woke up the next morning about six o’clock and just lay in bed, not knowing what to do, until after nine. In the back of my mind, I guess, I was trying to kid myself that Hap had been stringing me about Panzer. Or that, maybe, he’d had the wrong dope. And I hated to get up and find out the truth.

  Finally, a little after nine, I got up, caught some breakfast and a barbershop shave, and headed for the row. I hadn’t brought any toilet articles with me. I’d been afraid to bring any luggage on account of Carol. I was wondering now what kind of story I’d hand her when I got back.

  Everyone on the row had heard about the fire, and I wasted about an hour shaking hands and receiving sympathy before I could get to the Utopian exchange. Of course there was more of the same stuff there. But the manager saw it was bothering me and he cut it short by taking me back into his office.

  Maybe I told you he was an old friend of mine? I’d known him since the days when he was peddling film and I was hauling it.

  We had a couple of drinks and talked a little. After a few minutes, he took out his watch and glanced at it.

  “Well, Joe,” he said, “what brings you into town? What’s on your mind?”

  “Not much of anything, Al,” I said. “I just wanted to get away from things for a day or two.”

  “I see. I understand.” He shuffled some papers on his desk. “Well, I’m glad you dropped in.”

  “I was just wondering,” I said, “if you had anything on next season’s product yet. Of course, I know you’ve always got a good line-up, but if you had anything unusual I’d kind of like to know. I’ve been figuring on enlarging the house a little.”

  He sat there, smiling and nodding. “I believe I have got a few press sheets, Joe. Yeah, here’s something. Take at look at those. Something, huh? I’m not going to run down our competitors, but you can see for yourself that—that—”

  His eyes met mine, and the sheets slid out of his hand. He cleared his throat, and looked away.

  “You’ve got a nice house, Joe. It always struck me as being just about the right size.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  I’d known it was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier to take. I knew it was kid stuff, foolish, to argue. But I couldn’t help myself.

  “It always seemed to me, Al,” I said, “that I was a white man to deal with. I don’t give nothing away, but I don’t ask for noth—anything. If I’m not profitable to deal with, that’s a different matter. But it always seemed to me like I was.”

  “Oh, hell, Joe,” he said. “I’m in the business so I’ve got to talk price, but I don’t think you’ve actually skinned us six times in ten years. I wouldn’t say that to everyone, but I’ll say it to you. You’re a hundred-percenter in my books.”

  “Well, that’s the way I feel,” I said. “You’ve maybe skinned me a few times on superspecials, and you’ve got a damned bad habit of accidentally shipping me stuff I don’t want on the same invoice with stuff that I do, so that I have to take all or nothing. But when I look back upon our whole friendship it’s been pretty pleasant. It’s something I hate to see broken up. I mean if it was going to be broken up.”

  “I’m glad you said that, Joe. I like to keep things on a friendly basis. After all, what are we arguing about? It’s just a hypothetical case.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Oh, sure. But take even a hypothetical case, Al; it’s kind of hard for me to understand. I mean, I think I get it but I’m not sure. The town isn’t going to get a whole lot bigger, if any, and film rentals are based on population. A can of film is a can of film. If you push it too far back on the shelf it begins to stink. Twenty-f
ive per cent more, and I could reach it. Fifty, and I’m still not crazy. They’ll let me go around if I wear a muzzle. But higher than that—well, they call in the health department.”

  “They’ve called it in before, Joe.”

  “You know what I mean,” I said.

  “It’s hard to understand, all right,” he said. “Personally, I don’t try to. I just sit back and take orders. By the way, have you seen ‘Light o’ Dawn’ yet? We booked it into the Panzpalace here in town last week.”

  “I played it,” I said. “Don’t you remember how you jacked me from twenty-five to thirty bucks for it?”

  He didn’t seem to hear me.

  “We booked it into Panzpalace at fifty per cent of the gross. It pulled seventeen grand the first five days.”

  I got up and held out my hand. “Well, good-bye,” I said. “I’ve got to go buy a bottle of liniment.”

  “Goddamnit, Joe,” he said, “I like you. If there’s ever anything I can do for you—personally, that is—you know where to come.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything you can do, Al.”

  “Well—” He let me get to the door. “Come back a minute, Joe.”

  I went back and sat down.

  “Joe, I feel like a heel about this.”

  “What for?” I said. “It’s just a hypothetical case.”

  “Oh, can that crap. The cat’s out of the bag. I feel terrible about it, Joe. It’s a hell of a note to hit a man with a thing like this right after he’s lost his wife.”

  “I won’t argue with you there,” I said. “It looks like if Sol had to build another house he could have picked some spot besides Stoneville.”

  “No, he couldn’t, Joe.” Al shook his head. “You’ve got the best show town in the state. You’ve got a draw there of a town three times its size. It’s the only place where he could possibly justify the building of another Panzpalace.”

  “It’s going to be one then? One of his regular articles?”

  “It has to be, Joe. You’ve got a pretty nice house there yourself. Sol couldn’t build enough house for three or four hundred grand, even a half million, to freeze you out.”