Just Another Sucker

I

‘Come on in, buster, and join the party,’ O’Reilly said. ‘Your wife doesn’t seem to appreciate my company.’

I moved into the room and over to Nina. I was quickly over the shock of finding this man in my home, and a cold fury was taking the place of my first pang of fear.

‘You’d better get out before I throw you out,’ I said.

He grinned, showing even white teeth.

‘Look, buster,’ he said, ‘you may be a good guy in your own class, but you’re not in my class. I could take two like you and think nothing of it.’

Nina put her hand on my arm. Her fingers telegraphed a warning for caution.

‘What do you want?’ I demanded.

‘What do you think? Those tapes and I’m going to have them!’

‘So you did kill her!’

He rubbed the side of his jaw as his grin widened.

‘Did I? The evidence shows you are the guy who did it. Brother! What a sucker you are! You talk too much. If you had kept your trap shut about those tapes, Rhea and me would have imagined we were sitting pretty, but you had to sound off. Those tapes put Rhea out on a limb. They don’t bother me, but she and I are working together on this thing, so I promised her I’d get the tapes.’

‘Too bad,’ I said. ‘You’re not getting them. If anyone gets them it’ll be Renick.’

He glanced at the gun in his hand and then at me.

‘Suppose I aim this rod at your wife’s left leg,’ he said. ‘Suppose I pull the trigger? I could do it if you don’t hand over the tapes.’

Nina said quietly, ‘Don’t listen to him. Harry. I’m not frightened of him.’

I said, ‘You fire that gun, and we’ll have at least ten people at the door before you can get away. That kind of cheap bluff won’t work. Now get out!’

He leaned back in his chair and laughed.

‘Well, it was worth a try,’ he said. ‘You’re right. I wouldn’t shoot either of you.’ He slid the gun into his hip pocket. ‘Okay, let’s get down to business. I want the tapes and you’re going to hand them over to me. Where are they?’

‘In my bank where you can’t get at them’

‘Come on, sucker. We’ll go to the bank and you’ll hand them over. Let’s go.’

‘You’re not having them! That’s final. Now get out!’

He stared at me for a long moment.

‘Well, okay, if that’s the way it has to be,’ he said, not moving. ‘Now I’ll convince you you’re going to part with them. There are millions of dollars involved in this thing. Those tapes could unstick a plan I’ve really worked at, and that’s not going to happen. I don’t give a damn what happens so long as this plan of mine sticks. I have all the money I need to back up the right kind of action to get the tapes. Now, I’ll show you something.’ He took from his pocket a small bottle of blue glass. He removed the cork and very gently poured liquid from the bottle onto the occasional table at his side. The liquid seemed alive. It hissed as it made a tiny puddle in the middle of the table. I could see it stripping off the varnish and stain. ‘This is sulphuric acid,’ he went on. ‘It’s the stuff you throw in people’s faces who don’t co-operate.’ His expression suddenly turned vicious as he stared at me. ‘I know a mob who would arrange to throw this stuff at your wife, Barber, for less than a hundred bucks. They are a tough mob. Don’t kid yourself you could protect her. They would bust in here when you weren’t expecting them and give it to her and take care of you. I either get the tapes right now or within twelve hours your wife will be blind and her flesh will be burned off her face. What’s it to be?’

I felt Nina’s fingers gripping my arm. We both stared at the bubbling, hissing liquid on the table. I looked at O’Reilly. The expression in those small grey eyes convinced me he wasn’t bluffing. He would do this thing. It wasn’t possible for me to protect Nina.

I was licked, and I knew it.

I stood up.

‘Okay, let’s go.’

Nina caught hold of my arm.

‘No! You’re not to! He wouldn’t dare do it! Harry, please…’

I shook her off.

‘This is my mess — not yours.’

I went to the door while she sat motionless, wide-eyed, staring at me.

O’Reilly got to his feet.

‘He’s right, baby. You keep quiet. Watch out how you clear up that mess. You don’t want to burn your pretty hands.’

‘Harry!’ Nina exclaimed, jumping up. ‘Don’t do it! Don’t let him have them!’

I went out of the bungalow and down to the car with O’Reilly following me. He got in the car beside me.

‘Tough luck, sucker,’ he said, ‘but you should keep your trap shut. Now you’re right on your own.

How’s Renick getting on? Hasn’t he got onto you yet?’

‘Not yet.’ I pulled away from the kerb. I hated this man with a cold vicious fury that almost stifled me. I realised too late how stupid I had been to have taunted Rhea with the threat of the tapes. Once I had parted with them, as O’Reilly had said, I was on my own. It would be my word against hers, and she could afford to hire the best attorney in the country to make mincemeat of my story.

‘When you’re picked up, sucker,’ O’Reilly said, ‘don’t try to involve Rhea nor me. We both have cast iron alibis.’

‘That’s nice for you,’ I said.

We looked at each other. There was a puzzled expression in his eyes.

‘You’re a pretty cool punk considering the jam you’re in,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think you had so much nerve.’

‘I walked into this mess,’ I said, ‘and I’m prepared to take what is coming to me. Everything looks perfect right now, but you’re going to come unstuck because you don’t know a damn thing about women.’

That hit him. He twisted around to stare at me.

‘What the hell do you mean?’

‘You’ll find out. I’ve been a newspaper man for years. I’ve had plenty of experience with show girls.

I know their mentality. This I do know: Rhea Malroux isn’t planning to spend the rest of her days with an Irish roughneck. You’re not kidding yourself you’re anything better than an Irish ex-cop with as much polish as a sheet of sandpaper, are you? When Malroux dies and she comes into the money, she’ll suddenly lose interest in you. You’ll find you’ll be eased out. She’ll know how to do it. You won’t realise what’s happening until you are just another ex-cop in search of another job.’

‘Yeah? Is that what you think?’ His thin lips moved into a grin, but there was no grin in his eyes.

‘Don’t kid yourself, sucker. Long after you have ceased to exist me and Rhea’ll be married.’

I managed a laugh.

‘That’s about the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.’ I swung the car to the kerb outside my bank. The time was now three minutes to two. The bank doors were still shut. ‘You really imagine a woman like Rhea would marry an Irish roughneck like you? Well, maybe I’m a sucker, but I’m not the only one.’

‘You shut your trap unless you want me to shut it for you,’ he snarled, his fleshy face turning red.

‘Sure. I won’t say another word if you’re that sensitive,’ I said, paused, then went on, ‘But I know what I’d do if I was in the fix you’re in.’

He eyed me.

‘Yeah? So what would you do?’

I felt a quickening of excitement. I had got him going. I felt it.

‘I’d make damn sure Rhea couldn’t throw me out. I’d make sure I was the boss from now on…’

He sat motionless. I could almost hear his brain creak as he thought, then suddenly he smiled.

‘I’m sorry for you, punk,’ he said. ‘You’re so stupid it isn’t true.’

‘Okay,’ I said, ‘so I’m stupid.’ A clerk opened the bank doors.

‘But I’ll tell you something,’ I went on. ‘Don’t bet on anything from now on. I’ll fix you if I can.

Rhea will fix you for sure. You’ll be a bigger suck than I am, but I won’t be sorry for you.’

He got out of the car. ‘Come on, punk. Give your mouth a rest. I want those tapes.’

We went into the bank and I got the tapes. I gave them to him — there was nothing else I could do.

‘Don’t lose them,’ I said as he took the two packets. ‘They are now as important to you as they were to me.’

‘You don’t have to tell me a thing,’ he said and walked out of the bank, a worried, tense expression on his fleshy handsome face.

II

I got back to my office at ten minutes after two. There was a note on my desk, saying Renick wanted to see me as soon as I got back.

This could mean anything — more discoveries — anything. It could even mean he knew now I was the man in the brown sports suit. But I was beyond caring. I had taken my beating and I was now punch drunk. I knew once Renick caught up with me I was cooked. I had no recorded evidence to support my story. Odette’s murder could be pinned on me without the slightest trouble.

If I were going to save myself I had to prove somehow that O’Reilly had murdered Odette. I felt pretty sure I had planted the seed of doubt in his mind that Rhea wasn’t to be trusted. He wasn’t likely to destroy those two tapes: they represented his only hold on her. So long as they remained in existence, I still had a chance of beating this thing.

I knew Nina must be waiting anxiously for news so I telephoned her.

We were using a line that went through the switchboard so I was careful what I said.

‘He’s got them,’ I said. ‘There was no other way. Don’t say anything. Let me do the talking. It’s not as bad as it could be. We’ll talk about it when I come back. As soon as I can get away from here, I’ll be right back.’

‘All right, Harry.’

The shake in her voice made me feel bad.

‘Don’t worry, darling. I’ll fix it somehow,’ and I hung up.

It was twenty minutes after two when I pushed open Renick’s door and walked into his office.

He was reading a report, a frown of concentration on his lean face. He glanced up as I came in and waved me to a chair.

‘I won’t be a second,’ he said.

Maybe my imagination was playing me tricks, but I had the immediate impression from the tone of his voice that we weren’t on the same friendly footing as we had been not an hour and half ago.

I sat down and lit a cigarette. I had got beyond fear. I was now fatalistic. I was going to bluff this thing to the end, and if my bluff didn’t work I’d take what was coming to me.

Finally, he dropped the report on the desk and leaned back in his chair while he looked fixedly at me.

His face was expressionless but his eyes were probing. He was now looking at me the way a policeman looks at a suspect — or was I imagining it?

‘Harry, have you ever met and talked with Odette Malroux?’ he asked.

My heart skipped a beat.

‘No. The family came here when I was in jail. I never got the chance of interviewing her,’ I said, deliberately misunderstanding him. I thought: the first lie. I would have to go on lying from now on until Renick caught me out in one.

‘So you don’t know a thing about her?’

‘Not a thing.’ I flicked ash into the ash-tray. ‘Why do you ask, John?’

‘I just wondered. I’m hunting for every scrap of information.’

‘Maybe there is one thing that might help. Malroux is a French national. The hereditary system in France is so fixed that a child can’t be disinherited. Odette would have come into half Malroux’s fortune by right if she had survived him. Now she is dead, his wife gets the lot.’

‘That’s interesting.’

I had the impression that this wasn’t news to him. He had known this before I told him.

There was a pause, then he said, ‘You wouldn’t know if the girl had a lover. She wasn’t a virgin.’

‘I don’t know a thing about her, John,’ I said steadily. The door jerked open and Barty came in.

‘I’ve got something for you, John,’ he said, ignoring me. ‘The L.A. police have hit the jackpot.

Practically the first hotel they called on jelled. A girl, calling herself Ann Harcourt, booked in at the Regent Hotel: it’s a quiet, respectable hotel with no record for trouble. The clerk described her. She was wearing the blue and white dress. She arrived at the hotel at half past midnight by taxi. They have traced the taxi and the driver remembers picking her up at the airport. The only plane in at that time was from Palm City. The girl stayed in her room all Sunday and had her meals sent up. She said she wasn’t well.

She had a long distance telephone call from Palm City around nine o’clock in the evening. She remained in her room all Monday, then checked out at ten o’clock in the evening, taking a taxi from the rank. The driver says he drove her to the airport.’

‘Did she leave any fingerprints in the hotel room?’

‘She did better than that. She left a cheap plastic hairbrush which the maid saw her using. They have a beautiful set of prints from it and the prints are on the wire now. We’ll have them any minute.’

‘It’s my bet,’ Renick said, ‘Ann Harcourt was Odette Malroux.’ He picked up the report he was reading. ‘Just got the autopsy report. She was hit on the back of the head and stunned, then she was strangled. There was no struggle. She was taken by surprise. Here’s one thing that’s interesting, Barty.

Between her toes and in her shoes was sand — beach sand. It looks as if she had gone to the beach and walked along the sands to a rendezvous. The lab boys think they can place the beach where the sand came from.’

Barty grunted.

‘They are always thinking they can work miracles.’

It was uncanny and disturbing to sit there, listening to these two men talk and being sharply aware that both of them were ignoring me. I might just as well not have been in the office for all the notice they paid me.

‘Well, if you don’t want me, John,’ I said, getting up, ‘I’ll get back to my office. I’ve a whale of a lot of work to do.’

They both turned and stared at me.

‘That’s okay,’ Renick said, ‘but don’t leave the building. I’ll need you in a little while.’

‘I’ll be in my office.’

I went out and walked down the passage to my office.

Standing at the head of the stairs, the only exit to the street, were a couple of detectives, talking together. They glanced at me casually and then away.

I went into my office and shut the door.

Were these two guarding the stairs? Making sure I wouldn’t bolt?

I sat down at my desk aware of a little spark of panic in my mind. Was I already trapped? Had Renick guessed I was involved in this mess?

I tried to work, but concentration was impossible. I paced up and down, smoking cigarettes, trying to think of a way to trap O’Reilly, but I just couldn’t think of one.

After an hour, I left the office and went into the washroom. The two detectives still stood at the head of the stairs.

On my return, the telephone bell rang.

‘Come in, will you?’ Renick said.

My nerves were now really on the jump. If it hadn’t been for those two guarding the stairs, I might even have bolted.

I braced myself and walked down the passage to Renick’s office. He was just coming out as I arrived.

‘Meadows wants us,’ he said and leading the way, he went to Meadows’s office.

Meadows was at work at his desk. He looked up as we came in.

‘Well? What’s cooking?’ he asked, reaching for a cigar. ‘What’s it all about, John?’

Renick sat down. I went over to an empty desk away from them and sat down.

‘I’m satisfied now, sir, the girl was never kidnapped,’ Renick said.

Meadows paused as he was about to bite off the end of his cigar and stared.

‘Never kidnapped!’

‘It was a faked kidnapping. She and this guy in the sports suit planned it together. It’s my guess he was after the money and persuaded her to help him get it. The only possible way to get it from her father was to pretend she had been kidnapped.’

Meadows blew out his cheeks. He looked stunned.

‘You’d better be sure about this, John.’

‘I’m sure enough,’ Renick said, and went on to tell Meadows about the new evidence that had come in about Ann Harcourt. ‘We got her fingerprints ten minutes ago. She was Odette Malroux — no mistake about that. We know she went to Los Angeles on her own and came back on her own. That means she did the trip of her own free will. She certainly wasn’t kidnapped.’

‘Well, I’ll be damned!’ Meadows muttered. ‘How did she get murdered?’

‘Her partner collected the ransom and these two agreed to meet somewhere. He probably wanted all the money, so to silence her, he knocked her on the head and strangled her.’

My hands were in fists and my nails dug into my palms as Renick talked.

‘Who is he? Have you got a line on him yet?’ Meadows asked.

‘I have several lines on him,’ Renick said quietly, ‘but not enough to book him. Doc tells me there was sand in the dead girl’s shoes — beach sand. The lab boys are trying to locate where the sand comes from. They think they can do it. It’s my bet Odette arranged to meet her killer at one of the beach centres along the coast.’

Meadows got to his feet and began to prowl around his office.

‘We’d better not release any of this to the Press, Barber,’ he said. ‘This could be dynamite.’

‘Yes,’ I said.

He looked at Renick.

‘You really think this girl tried to gyp her father out of five hundred grand?’

‘I think the killer talked her into it,’ Renick said. ‘He was probably her lover. She fell for his talk and then got herself murdered.’

I had to say something I just couldn’t sit there like a dummy.

‘If he collected the ransom,’ I said, hoping my voice was steadier than it sounded, ‘why didn’t he skip? He didn’t have to meet and kill her.’

Renick glanced at me, then away. He lit a cigarette.

‘Suppose he had skipped with the money? The girl might have told her father. The killer probably guessed she would be dangerous if he double-crossed her. It was safer to silence her.’

The telephone bell rang.

Renick answered it.

He listened for a moment, then said, ‘You have? That’s fine. You’re sure? Okay,’ and he hung up.

Turning to Meadows, he went on, ‘The lab boys say the sand in her shoes comes from East Beach. It is an artificial beach there and they are absolutely sure the sand comes from East Beach, and nowhere else.

There’s a bathing station there with cabins. That’s where they must have met. I’ll get down there now.’

He looked at me. ‘You’d better come with me, Harry.’

That’s just what I didn’t want to do. Bill Holden would recognise me. Then with a sudden prickle of fear, I remembered I hadn’t paid him the last week’s rent on the cabin.

‘I’d better get on with my work, John. I’m getting way behind,’ I said, aware my voice sounded breathless.

‘Never mind the routine stuff,’ Renick said curtly. ‘That can look after itself. I want you with me.’

‘And listen, Barber, no more information for the Press,’ Meadows said. ‘Let them know we’re still working on the case, of course, but that we’ve struck a slow patch. Start playing it down. If it gets out this girl faked her own kidnapping to get money for her lover from her father — phew! what a stink!’

I said I understood.

While he was talking, Renick was on the telephone, alerting his team.

‘Let’s go,’ he said, hanging up. To Meadows, he went on, ‘I’ll report to you, sir, as soon as I get back.’

As I walked behind Renick out of the office, I wondered if I could borrow money from him to pay Holden. I decided not to try. I couldn’t imagine he would have fifty dollars on him anyway. I just hoped that Holden wouldn’t mention that I hadn’t paid him. It wasn’t much of a hope, but there was nothing I could do about it.

As we reached the head of the stairs, I saw Renick give a quick signal to the two waiting detectives.

They followed us down the stairs to where two cars were waiting. Renick and I got in the back of one, the two detectives got in the front with the driver. The car shot away, followed by the second car with the technical men.

We reached East Beach around six o’clock. The beach was still crowded.

Renick told his men to remain in the cars. Nodding to me, he walked to the entrance of the bathing station. I plodded behind him, feeling the way a steer probably feels when going to be slaughtered.

Bill Holden was in his office. He looked up as Renick and I came in.

‘Why, hello, Mr. Barber,’ he said, getting to his feet. He looked inquiringly at Renick.

‘This is Lieutenant Renick, City Police, Bill,’ I said. ‘He wants to ask you a few questions.’

Holden looked startled.

‘Why, sure, Lieutenant. Go right ahead.’

Here it comes, I thought. This is something, if I can’t lie myself out of, that’ll sink me.

Renick said, ‘We’re trying to trace a girl: she’s around twenty, pretty, with red hair and wearing a blue and white cotton dress. She wore big sun goggles and ballet type shoes. Mean anything to you?’

Holden didn’t hesitate. He shook his head.

‘I’m sorry, Lieutenant, it’s no good asking me a thing like that. I see thousands of girls here during the season. To me, they’re like so many grains of sand. I never even see them.’

‘We have reason to believe this girl was here around midnight on Saturday. Were you here Saturday night?’

‘No. I went off duty at eight.’ Holden looked at me, ‘but you were here, weren’t you, Mr. Barber?’

Somehow I managed to look a lot calmer than I felt.

‘Not Saturday, Bill. I was at home.’

Renick was staring at me.

‘Well, then I guess I can’t help you, Lieutenant,’ Holden said.

‘What makes you think Mr. Barber was here on Saturday night?’ Renick asked in a deceptively mild voice.

‘I just imagined he was. He…’

I cut in.

‘I had rented a cabin here, John. I was planning a book. I found I couldn’t work at home.’

‘Is — that — right?’ The unbelief in his voice was painful to hear. ‘You didn’t tell me that.’

I forced a grin.

‘The book didn’t jell.’

Renick stared at me for a moment, then turned to Holden.

‘Were all the cabins locked on Saturday night?’

‘Sure,’ Holden said. ‘I locked them myself: except Mr. Barber’s cabin of course. He had the key.’

‘None of the locks had been tampered with?’

‘No.’

‘Did you lock your cabin, Harry?’ Renick asked.

‘I think so. I can’t be sure. Maybe I didn’t.’

‘Which was your cabin?’

‘The last one on the left, Lieutenant,’ Holden said. He was now uneasy and he kept shooting glances at me and then at Renick.

‘Anyone in the cabin now?’

Holden looked at a chart on the wall.

‘It’s empty right now.’

‘Have you ever seen Odette Malroux here?’ Renick asked.

‘The girl who was kidnapped?’ Holden shook his head. ‘She never came here, Lieutenant. I’d know her. I’ve seen enough pictures of her. No… she never came here.’

‘I’ll take a look at the cabin. Got the key?’

‘It’ll be in the door, Lieutenant.’

Renick started for the door and I started after him.

Holden said, ‘Oh, Mr. Barber…’

Here it comes, I thought. I turned and grimaced at him.

‘I’ll be right back,’ I said, and as Renick paused, I crowded up against him, trying to shove him out of the little office.

‘What is it?’ Renick asked Holden, refusing to be shoved.

‘It’s okay, Lieutenant,’ Holden said, looking unhappy. ‘It’s nothing important.’

Renick went out into the hot sunshine. We walked in silence along the wooden slats laid on the sand, avoiding the half-naked sun-bathers who stared at us, wondering who we were in our city clothes, until we came to the cabin where Odette had died.

The key was in the lock. Renick pushed open the door and stepped in. He looked around, then, turning, he looked hard at me.

‘You didn’t tell me you had hired this cabin, Harry?’

‘Should I have done?’ I remained by the door. ‘It didn’t cross my mind you’d be interested.’

‘This is where she could have been murdered.’

‘Think so? She could have been murdered on the beach.’

‘I want you to think: did you lock the door or didn’t you?’

‘I don’t have to think — I didn’t lock it,’ I said. ‘I didn’t tell Holden that. I didn’t want him to get mad at me. I left the key in the lock. I found it on Monday when I looked in to pick up my typewriter.’

‘So she could have been murdered here.’

‘The locks on these doors don’t mean a thing. She could have been murdered in any of the cabins or on the beach.’

He brooded for a long minute while I stood there, listening to the thump-thump-thump of my heart beats.

Then he glanced at his wrist watch.

‘Okay, Harry, you get off home. I don’t want you any more for tonight. Get one of the boys to run you home. Tell the others I want them right here.’

‘I don’t mind sticking around if I can be of any help,’ I said.

‘It’s okay. You get off home.’

He wasn’t looking at me now, but staring around the room. I knew what would happen the moment I had gone. They would take the cabin to pieces. The fingerprint boys would test every inch of the place and sooner or later they would find Odette’s prints. There was just a chance they would also find Rhea’s prints and O’Reilly’s prints. They would certainly find mine, but that didn’t worry me. What did worry me was that Renick would go back to Bill Holden and ask him if he had seen a big, broad-shouldered man in a brown sports suit, and Holden would tell him I had been wearing a brown sports suit.

But was this proof that I had killed Odette? I didn’t think so. I felt I had still a little time: it was running out on me fast, but at least, I had a little time.

‘See you tomorrow then, John.’

‘That’s it.’

He still didn’t look at me as I walked out of the cabin and started across the sand to Holden’s office.

Holden was standing in the doorway.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t settle with you, Bill,’ I said. ‘It went right out of my mind. I’ll send you a cheque tomorrow. That okay?’

‘I’d be glad to have it now, Mr. Barber,’ Holden said awkwardly. ‘My boss doesn’t give credit.’

‘I happen to have left my wallet at the office. I’ll send you a cheque.’

Before he could argue, I walked on to the waiting police car.

I said to one of the technical men, ‘The Lieutenant wants you boys in the cabin at the far end. I’m going home. I’ll take the bus.’

One of the detectives who had been guarding the stairs said, ‘That’s okay, Mr. Barber. We’ll run you back. This isn’t our pigeon. We’ve just come for the ride.’

Now was the time to test my suspicions.

‘That’s okay. I’ll take the bus. So long, boys,’ and I walked away over to the waiting bus.

As the bus moved off, I looked back over my shoulder.

The two detectives in the police car were right behind the bus.

I knew now for certain the red light was up, and I was suspect Number One for Odette’s murder.