Knock, Knock! Who's There?

NINE

The previous evening just before Scott had gone to bed, Johnny had asked permission to borrow the 12 bore shotgun.

“Thought I might take a walk in the woods and bag something for supper.”

“Sure,” Scott said. “A good idea. I never get time now for shooting. You could find coot or pigeon.”

So the following morning after a swim, Johnny took the gun with a pocketful of 6 shot cartridges and told Freda he would be back for lunch.

“Don’t get lost,” she warned him. “Keep to the path and don’t go far.”

He spent the whole morning in the jungle and enjoyed himself. He bagged four pigeons and two wild duck, and he felt ten feet tall as he walked into the kitchen where Freda was cooking steaks.

“Quite the man around the home,” she said as he showed her the birds. “Suppose, this afternoon, you go on making yourself useful? I’ve asked Ed to put up four shelves over there. If I’ve asked him once, I’ve asked him twenty times. The wood’s all cut. How about it?”

“Sure,” Johnny said. “I’ll fix it.”

They had lunch, then went to bed together and around 15.00 Freda said she would go across to the village and collect the mail and the newspaper.

“I’ll fix the shelves.”

It was because he spent the next two hours in the kitchen that Toni, sweltering in the sun, didn’t catch a glimpse of him, but he did see Freda as she came on deck, got in the motorboat and headed towards him.

Hastily, Toni hid the field glasses and lifted the rod from its clip.

Freda’s boat passed him by a hundred feet and he was aware she looked at him. He kept his head lowered and flicked the rod with what he hoped was a professional movement.

Some chick! he thought. Man! Could he use a piece of tail like her!

If it were really Johnny holed up in the houseboat, Toni thought, he certainly had it good. But was it Johnny? He surveyed the houseboat once again with his glasses, but he saw no sign of life. Hell! He was getting roasted alive out in this goddamn sun and he was aware that there were no other fishermen on the lake. Maybe he had better go back. He could be attracting attention Thy sitting out in the boat like this. Again he searched the houseboat with his glasses, then still seeing nothing, he laid the rod down and decided to return. He would come out later when the sun was less fierce.

Unused to the sun, he was now getting painfully sunburned. He moved over to the outboard engine, caught hold of the starting handle and yanked. There was a splutter and nothing else. Cursing, he yanked on the cord again. Again no results.

He glared at the engine and cursed it. Four more times he yanked at the starting cord with sweat streaming off him, but the engine wouldn’t fire. He sat on the side of the boat, his shirt soaked with sweat.

Salvadore had told him he would have no trouble with the engine. All he had to do was to pull the cord. Now the bastard wouldn’t start! He could get burned alive out here!

He had been crazy to have used the boat! He knew nothing about boats, or outboard engines. He couldn’t even swim! He looked longingly at the cool water around him.

His gun harness was chafing his skin. He was wearing it under his shirt. He reached inside the shirt, undid the harness and took it off, laying the gun by the fishing rod.

What the hell was he to do?

He went back to the engine and dragged at the cord. The engine spluttered and died.

Then he heard the phut-phut of an approaching motorboat. Looking up, he saw Freda returning from Little Creek. He waved to her and she cut her engine and steering her boat, came drifting up to him.

“Are you in trouble?” she asked.

Toni stared at her. His eyes took in the sweep of her breasts, the firm outline of her buttocks, her blonde hair and her brilliant blue eyes.

“Yeah. She won’t start.”

“It’s the heat. You’re oiled up. Take the plug out and clean it. You’ll start then.”

Toni looked around.

“I’ve got no tools.”

“I’ll do it. You hold the boats together.”

She opened a locker and took out a tool kit, then slid into his boat. As she got in, her foot caught in the harness of his gun and she stumbled, rocking the boats. He caught hold of her, steadying her and the feel of her arm in his hand sent a sexual jolt through him. He kicked the gun and the harness out of sight under one of the seats.

She was kneeling, her back to him and she opened the tool kit.

“You’re new around here, aren’t you?” she said as she got out a box spanner.

“Yeah. I’m a friend of Bruno.” He eyed her back, feeling lust go through him.

“I thought I hadn’t seen you before.” She got the plug out. “See? Oil.”

She turned, holding the plug.

“Never thought of it,” Toni said huskily. “I don’t know a thing about boats… just down here on vacation.”

“Salvadore is a good friend of mine.” She took a rag from the tool kit and cleaned the plug. “It’s always nice to see a new face.”

He eyed her wondering what she meant.

“I guess.”

“You won’t get any fish at this time,” she went on as she put the plug back and tightened it. “In another two hours, but it’s too hot now.”

“You can say that again… I’m frying.”

“Are you staying with Salvadore?”

“That’s right.”

She looked at him: her blue eyes inviting.

“Maybe I’ll see something of you.”

Was she giving him the ‘come on’? Toni wondered, and again lust stabbed him like a sword thrust.

“Why not?” He peered at her. “Bruno tells me you have your half-brother staying with you.”

“He left early this morning. He has business in Miami.” She smiled. “I miss his company. It’s lonely for me. My husband doesn’t get back until late.”

“Yeah. I can imagine.”

She got into her boat.

“You try now. She’ll start.” She reached for the starter on her engine. “If you’ve got nothing to do why not drop by around halfpast five?” Her blue eyes met his. “My husband doesn’t get back until seven.”

Before he could reply, she started her engine, waved to him and sent the boat fast away from him.

Toni stared after her, his heart thumping. If that wasn’t an invitation for a lay, what was? And what a lay! But wait, he told himself, suppose Johnny or whoever this punk was hadn’t gone? Suppose she was setting him up to walk into a trap? But why should she? He knew her type: a chick with hot pants. Maybe this guy hadn’t been her half-brother. Maybe he wasn’t Bianda. So he had gone and she had the itch again.

He pulled the starter and the engine fired. With his mind seething with excitement, he headed back to Little Creek.

Salvadore was on the quay and he helped Toni tie up the boat.

“Did you see him?”

“No, but I saw her. The goddamn engine wouldn’t start. She fixed it. She says her half-brother left this morning for Miami. She wants me to go over there at half-past five.” Toni wiped his sweating face with the back of his hand. “What do you think?”

Salvadore shook his head.

“If he’s there you could walk into trouble.”

“Yeah, but if he’s there why should she ask me over?” He leered. “It’s my bet whoever’ this punk is, he’s gone and she wants it. So okay, I go over there, take a look around, slip her what she wants, then tell the boss it wasn’t the guy and go back. That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Salvadore looked at him for a long moment.

“It’s your funeral. You could be right. Anyway, why should I worry? You can take care of yourself. If you want to go, then go.”

“Yeah. How’s about a long, cold beer? I’m boiled.”

Johnny was just putting the last of the shelves in place when he heard the distant sound of Freda’s outboard motor. He tightened the final screw and then went to the kitchen window.

He saw her boat coming fast and as he was about to step out on deck, he paused, seeing another boat far out on the lake. His instinct for danger stopped him in his tracks. He watched the other boat with a lone man in it, heading for Little Creek.

Freda steered the boat under the kitchen window and called “Don’t come out!” The urgency in her voice told him there was trouble.

He moved into the living-room and waited until she joined him.

“What is it?”

Quickly she told him of her encounter with Toni.

“He has a gun and harness,” she concluded. “He says he’s Salvadore’s friend.”

Johnny sat down. He had a feeling of being suffocated. The net was drawing in on him.

“Tell me about him,” he said. “What’s he look like?”

“Around thirty, thin, dark, good-looking. He had a tattoo on his right arm: a naked woman.”

Johnny flinched.

Toni Capello! The tattoo fixed it!

Seeing his reaction, Freda said, “Is he one of them?”

“Yes… he’s one of them. They’ve got close, baby.”

They looked at each other and she came to him, kneeling by his side.

“He asked about my half-brother. I said you had gone.”

“I must go.”

“No!” Her hand touched his face. “We can bluff him, Johnny. I told him to come and see me at five- thirty. I think he’ll come. You go out into the jungle and wait. I can convince him you’ve gone and then they’ll look elsewhere, but from now on you stay here and keep out of sight.”

He stared at her.

“You asked him to come here?”

“Johnny! I love you! I want you to be safe! He’ll come. I’ll show him around, then I’ll get rid of him. Once he’s sure you’re not here, he’ll go away.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing! This man’s dangerous! I know him! You can’t have him here alone!”

“There’s no man born I can’t handle,” Freda said and smiled. “I know men. I can handle him. You go to the jungle and wait. I’ll get rid of him before Ed gets back.”

Johnny stared at her. Then into his mind he remembered what Scott had said: We swim raw. You don’t have to bother about Freda. She’s seen more naked men than I’ve seen shrimps. He had thought then that this had been a stupid remark from a stupid man, but now he wondered if Scott could have been speaking the truth.

Did it matter? He looked at her. Without her, he could shortly be

dead. He felt a moment of sadness, then he shrugged.

“I guess that’s the best way to handle it. Okay, I’ll go into the jungle, but watch him… he’s as tricky as a snake.”

She was watching him.

“Don’t look like that, Johnny. In another four days, we’ll be away from here. I’m doing this for you and only for you.”

“Yes.” He moved away from her.

For me? he was thinking, or for the money?

“It was smart of me, wasn’t it… to tell him you had gone.” He could see she was longing for a little praise, but he couldn’t give it. There was a pause, then she went on, “But from now on you must keep out of sight. You must stay indoors, but it’s only for four days.”

“That’s right.” He couldn’t look at her. He had never felt so depressed. “Watch him. I’ll get moving.”

“Kiss me.”

Did he want to? He forced himself to look at her, then those brilliant blue eyes hooked him. She came into his arms, her fingers going through his hair, her body hard against his.

“Johnny… Johnny… I love you,” she said, her lips against his cheek. “We’ll soon be free of this. Trust me! I’ll handle him.”

With his gun and vacuum flask of ice water, Johnny went into the hot jungle and sitting in the shade, he settled to wait. From where he sat he could see the lake and the houseboat.

A few minutes after 17.30, he saw a motorboat coming across the lake.

Toni had been hitting the bottle and now he was full of whisky courage and lust. He had borrowed a coat from Salvadore so he could wear his gun harness and he had taken care to clean, oil and check the gun before leaving Little Creek.

He didn’t expect trouble, but he was ready for it. His fear of Johnny was damped down by whisky and the thought of Freda.

As he neared the houseboat, he cut the engine and let the boat

drift up as Freda came out on deck.

“Hi!” she said. “I was hoping you’d come.” She caught the rope he tossed to her and made the boat fast. “I bet you could use a drink?”

“Yeah.” Toni scrambled on deck. His hand went inside his coat and eased the gun for a quick draw. He looked around, very tense now.

“Well, come on in.” Freda turned and walked into the livingroom.

Moving like a cat, keeping close to her so if there was trouble her body would shield him, Toni moved into the room. One quick glance told him they were alone.

“Let’s take a look around, baby,” he said. “I like to know we’re strictly on our own.”

She laughed.

“You men ! Johnny was the same. Scared my husband was hidden somewhere with a shotgun. Come on, then.”

Leading the way, she took him from her bedroom to the other two bedrooms, into the kitchen, into the shower room. She even opened a big closet for him to inspect.

Then turning, a jeering look in her bright blue eyes, she said, “Satisfied?”

Toni grinned. He was now completely relaxed.

“Sure… let’s have that drink.”

She led him back into the living-room.

“Sorry there’s only coke. We can’t afford liquor.”

Toni blew out his cheeks, but maybe a coke was better. He knew he was already loaded.

“Fine.” He sat down, eyeing her as she left him to go into the kitchen. She came back with a coke and handed it to him.

He leered at her, drank, then leered again.

“Some chick!”

“That’s what Johnny was always saying.”

“Your half-brother?”

She laughed and sat down away from him.

“I’ve never had a brother… half or otherwise.” She winked at him. “Strictly between ourselves, a girl has to be respectable in this dreary neck of the woods. Johnny was a stray my husband picked up, but he was good in bed.”

Toni became alert.

“What’s happened to him?”

She shrugged.

“Ships that pass in the night.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“He stayed three nights. He left early this morning. He was a nice guy… but funny in a way.” She looked at him. “He was superstitious. Are you superstitious?”

“Me? No.”

“He was always talking about a St. Christopher medal he had lost. It seemed to prey on his mind.”

Johnny! Toni leaned forward.

“Where did you say he was going?”

“Miami. He had money. He said he was going to hire a boat and go to Havana. Now, why should anyone want to go there?”

“Did he have any baggage with him?”

“A big suitcase. It was heavy: even he had trouble with it.” She cocked her head on one side. “Why the interest?”

Toni sat still, thinking. This was important information. He knew he should get back fast and telephone Luigi. They might pick up this sonofabitch in Miami before he hired a boat. Then he looked at Freda. Maybe an hour wouldn’t make any difference.

He stood up.

“Let’s you and me find out if one of those beds is soft,” he said.

She laughed.

“That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

Breathing fast, his unsteady fingers unbuckling his gun harness, Toni followed her into her bedroom.

Sitting in the shade and cursing the mosquitoes that were buzzing around him, Johnny saw Toni come out on deck and get into the motorboat. He looked at his strap watch. Toni had been in there for an hour.

Johnny didn’t need to exercise his imagination to know what those two had been doing. He felt a cold bitterness towards her. How could she tell him she loved him?

He waited until Toni’s boat was out of sight, then he walked quickly across the jetty and into the living-room.

He heard her in the kitchen. He went to the door to find her making pastry. In a casserole, the pigeon breasts were simmering.

“It’s all right,” she said, seeing him in the doorway, and quickly she told him what she had said to Toni. “I sold it to him. I know he’s convinced.”

Johnny drew in a deep breath. If Toni now convinced Massino of this story, then the heat would be off. Massino would know that he ( Johnny ), once in Havana, would be out of his reach.

“I told him you had a heavy suitcase with you,” Freda went on. She paused while she rolled out the pastry. “That was smart, wasn’t it, Johnny?”

But in spite of what she had done for him, in spite of her cleverness, Johnny could only think of the hour she had spent with Toni alone.

“Did you enjoy his company?” he asked, his tone bitter.

She looked at him, her eyes suddenly stony.

“Is that all you have to say… no thanks?”

He moved uneasily.

“I’m asking you… did you enjoy his company? You got laid, didn’t you?”

She began to line a pie-dish with the pastry. He stood there, waiting. He watched her tip the contents of the casserole into the pie-dish.

“Didn’t you?”

“That’s right.”

He wanted to hit her but he controlled the urge. “You’re nothing but a whore, aren’t you?”

She covered the pie-dish with pastry, then she put the dish into the oven.

“Aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She turned and faced him. “Before I married Ed I was a busy, busy call girl. He knew it and now you know it.” Without looking at him again, she washed her hands under the tap, dried them, and moving past him, she went into the living-room. He hesitated, then followed her, feeling ashamed and defeated.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Thank you for what you’ve done for me. Forget what I said.”

She sat down.

“That man meant no more to me than dozens of other men who have paid for it.” She looked directly at him. “While he was getting rid of his dirty lust, I was thinking of you. You’re the only one, Johnny, who has ever turned me on.” She shrugged. “Can’t you see, if you can get this stupid jealousy out of your mind, that I had to do it? I had to have him here to convince him you had gone and to convince him you’re heading for Havana. If I had held back, he wouldn’t have believed me. Can’t you see that? Now, you’re safe.”

Johnny went to her and put his arms around her. “I’m sorry baby. You mean so much to me. I’m sorry.”

“Forget it.” She kissed him, then she got to her feet and went to the window to stare across the lake. “So what are we going to do now? You mustn’t show yourself. Can’t we go tomorrow… can’t we get away?”

“Not yet. Although it’s safer, baby, the way you’ve fixed it, it’s also a lot more complicated.”

“How do you mean?”

“If we took off tomorrow Ed would ask questions. He’d talk to Salvadore who would then know you lied to Toni. Then he’d start a hunt, not only for me, but for you. We have to wait at least another four days.”

She lifted her hands in despair.

“Wait… that’s all I do… wait!”

Then they heard the sound of the truck approaching and she went into the kitchen.

Massino was looking at the weekly numbers figures that Andy had given him when Toni came on the line, calling from Little Creek.

Massino looked at Andy.

“It’s Toni. Get on the extension and write down what he says!” Then to Toni, he barked. “Did you find him?”

“No, Mr. Joe. I missed him by six hours. He was here, but he’s gone now. The chick says he’s headed for Miami to hire a boat for Havana.”

“Havana?” Massino’s voice shot up.

“Yeah.”

“Well, come on, come on! Give me the details!”

Toni told him all he knew. He was careful not to give details of his visit to Freda. He said she gave him a description of Johnny, mentioned the medal, said he had been holed up there for three nights and had gone off, carrying a heavy suitcase.

“So what do you want me to do, Mr. Joe?”

Massino’s mind raced.

“I’ll call you back. Stick around,” and taking Salvadore’s number, he hung up.

“If he’s got to Havana we’re bitched!” he said, glaring at Andy.

“And he’s got the money!”

“So she says,” Andy said quietly.

Massino stiffened.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think we should check her story out, Mr. Joe,” Andy said. “You’re right, if he’s heading for Havana and Luigi doesn’t pick him up before he leaves Miami then we kiss him and the money goodbye, but this could be a bluff. Toni’s got nothing between his ears. He’d fall for any story a woman fed him. Let’s check the woman first.”

Massino thought about this, then nodded.

“I’ll talk to Luigi. Got his number?”

“I’ll get it.” Andy went into his office and returned a few minutes later. “He’s on the line now.”

Massino snatched up the receiver.

“Luigi? How are you? Long time no see. What’s that? Yeah… sure is a big steal. Yeah. Listen. How about a little help? This woman…” He looked across at Andy who said, “Freda Scott, Little Creek.”

“Yeah… Freda Scott, lives at Little Creek. Salvadore knows all about her. She says Bianda took off early this morning, heading for Miami and then Havana. She could be lying. I want you to send someone out there and talk to her and when I say talk I mean give her the goddamn works. I want her squeezed dry! Don’t let up until you’re sure she’s telling the truth… get it? If you have to knock her off, knock her off. Will you do this for me, Luigi?”

“Sure, Joe.” Luigi sounded expansive. “I’ve got a couple of bums who’d take real pleasure in a job like that, but it’ll cost. How’s about a grand: guaranteed results?”

“Come on, Luigi… you’re my friend. You wouldn’t rob me, would you?”

“No more than you’d rob me, Joe. A grand and a guarantee.”

“Suppose she’s telling the truth?”

“Well, then you’ll know, won’t you?”

Massino cursed.

“Okay. Just get moving!” and he hung up.

At the other end of the line, Luigi knocked ash off his cigar and grinned to himself. He liked nothing better than easy money and this money couldn’t be easier. The time was 21.15. No point in rushing this. Besides he had to supervise his restaurant. He called Salvadore and told him to send Toni back to the Waterfront it Bar.

When Toni entered Luigi’s office, he found two men propping up the wall while Luigi, at his desk, cigar gripped between his teeth, was checking the restaurant’s booking.

The two men startled Toni. He was used to tough types but these two seemed to him to have escaped from a zoo. The bigger of the two had the broken face of a boxer, massively built and with a moronic grin, little beady eyes and no ears. They had probably been bitten off in some past brawl, Toni decided. The other was younger, thin, blond with expressionless eyes and a thin mouth and the deadpan expression of a pot smoker.

“Come on in,” Luigi said. “The big one’s Bernie. The other’s Clive. They’re going to talk to your chick. Mr. Joe gets the idea she’s lying so I’m sending the boys to shake the crap out of her.” Luigi looked at Toni and grinned. “How was she as a lay?”

“Okay, Mr. Luigi.”

“Fine. You’re lucky. She won’t be much after these two have worked her over. Just wise up. When’s the best time for a visit?”

“Her husband leaves at five-thirty in the morning. She’s on her own then,” Toni said uneasily.

Luigi looked at the two propping up the wall.

“Suppose you get over there around six? Don’t worry about interrupting her coffee. Mr. Joe’s anxious for news, and don’t worry about her. It’s a big lake.”

The two nodded and went away leaving Toni standing, uneasy and staring at Luigi. Even he, tough as he was, hated the thought of a chick like Freda in the hands of those two apes.

“Okay, Toni,” Luigi said, “go and enjoy yourself. Everything’s on the house. If you want a girl tell the barman. He’ll fix you. Have a ball.”

Toni went to the bar and got drunk.

The sound of the truck starting up woke Johnny. He looked out of the window. There was mist on the lake and he could see the red rim of the sun coming up behind the pines. He looked at his watch. The time was 05.30. He reached for a cigarette and listened to the truck backing out of the parking bay, then go roaring up the dirt road.

The evening had passed with the help of the television. Freda’s pigeon pie had been a success. Scott had congratulated him on his shooting. Johnny had slept badly, continually waking, dozing, then waking again. Nov, a cigarette between his lips, he took stock of his position.

If Massino was convinced by Freda’s story, the heat must cool. But would he be convinced? He (Johnny) would have to stay under cover for at least another four days, then he would have to get to a telephone and call Sammy. He wouldn’t dare show himself in Little Creek. Where else was a telephone? He would have to ask Freda that. If Sammy could assure him the heat was off, then he and Freda would go back to East City, take a chance, collect the money and get out of town. If Massino was sure he was in Havana, he could see no danger in again driving south. Problems! First getting to a telephone and then getting a car. There was no question now of Freda hiring a car from Little Creek. Maybe they would have to walk to New Symara… some walk in this heat!

He threw off the sheet and got out of bed. A cup of coffee would go well with his cigarette.

“Johnny?”

Freda came out of her bedroom. Her blonde hair was mussed, but to Johnny, with the softness of sleep still on her, she looked beautiful.

“Just getting coffee, baby. Want some?”

“Hmmm.”

She went into the bathroom.

As Johnny poured coffee into a saucepan, he thought about her. A whore! So what? Lots of women were whores, trading their bodies not for money but for presents, jewels, furs… whatever they yearned for. She was his woman, he told himself. Who cares about anyone’s past if there is love and Johnny knew he was in love with her. He wasn’t much anyway, but he would be! $186,000 made any man something!

He could feel it was going to be hot and he thought with dismay that from now on there would be no swimming, no fishing. He would have to stay out of sight.

He poured the hot coffee into a cup and as he was about to pour more coffee into a second cup, he heard a car drive up.

Moving swiftly, he put the second cup away, then darted into his bedroom, snatched up his gun, pulled the sheet up over the bed, then darted into Scott’s bedroom, the window of which gave a view onto the jetty.

He saw a dusty Lincoln parked at the foot of the jetty and from it spilled two men: one big, like an ape, the other small, white-faced with staring eyes. They both wore black suits, white shirts and white ties. They stood looking around, then they started across the jetty, taking their time as Johnny moved into the passage.

Freda, still in her shortie nightdress, was standing in the bathroom door.

“Trouble,” Johnny said softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

“No! Get out of sight!” Freda whispered fiercely. “I’ll take care of it! Get in the closet and wait!”

She caught hold of his arm and shoved him towards the big closet. For a moment he hesitated, then when a knock sounded on the door, he slid into the closet and shut the door.

Freda ran into her bedroom, snatched up a wrap and struggled into it as the knock came again.

She braced herself, then went to the door and opened it. When she saw Bernie and Clive, she felt a rush of cold blood up her spine. But she kept control of herself.

“What do you want?”

Bernie, smelling of sweat, his moronic grin terrifying, moved forward, forcing her back.

“You, dolly-bird. We want to talk to you about Johnny.”

But it was the other one Freda feared: the little, white-faced horror with his evil, sadistic eyes who followed behind the ape man.

“He’s gone,” she said.

They were now in the living-room and she had retreated to the far wall.

“Tell us about him, dolly-bird. We’re looking for him,” Bernie said.

“He left yesterday.”

“That’s what we heard.” Bernie shuffled forward and snatched off her wrap leaving her in her shortie nightdress. “Yeah, we heard that,” then he slapped her across her face so violently she bounced back against the wall and then sprawled on the floor. He reached down and tore off her nightdress, “but we don’t believe it, dolly-bird. Feed us another story.”

She lay naked at his feet, staring up at him.

“He went to Miami yesterday morning early,” she said, her voice steady. “Get out of here, you apes!”

Bernie sniggered.

“Go ahead, Clive, work on her,” he said. “When you’re tired, I’ll take over.”

In the closet, Johnny listened. He quietly opened the closet door, gun in hand and moved into the passage. He was wearing only pyjama trousers, his feet were bare and he made no sound as he entered the living-room.

Clive had caught hold of Freda and had hauled her to her feet. He was setting himself to slap her as Johnny killed him.

The bang of the gun made Freda scream. She hid her face in her hands and dropped to her knees.

Clive, shot through the back of his head, heaved forward and fell.

Snarling, Bernie, groping for his gun, spun around to face Johnny who shot him through the face. The big man crashed down on top of Clive, his right arm catching Freda on the back of her neck as he fell. She sprawled on her face, then twisted and half sat up, staring at the two dead men, her eyes wide with horror, her mouth open in a soundless scream.

Dropping his gun, Johnny went to her, got her to her feet and half carried her, half dragged her into her bedroom: He laid her gently on the bed.

“Stay here. Don’t think about a thing.”

He ran into his room and struggled into his shirt and trousers. He slid his feet into his shoes, then he returned to the living-room.

Freda lay still, her eyes closed. She struggled with hard, dry, choking sobs. It seemed to her she lay there for a long time. She couldn’t move. The horror of seeing the two men shot dead paralyzed her.

The sun was climbing and it came through the open window, hurting her eyes. She put her arm across her face, moaning.

She lay there, not caring, wanting only to believe this was a horrible nightmare.

Then a hand touched her gently.

“Let’s go, baby,” Johnny said. “Come on. This is where we duck out.”

She opened her eyes and stared up at him.

“Go… where?”

“We have their car. It’s our chance. We’ve got to go!”

He hauled her off the bed and she leaned against him.

“What’s happened… those men?”

“Forget them. They’re in the lake. Get dressed. We’ve got to hurry… every minute is important.” She stood in a daze, staring at him.

“Come on, baby!” His voice sharpened. “Get dressed! You’ve got to pack! Hurry!”

“You killed them! I can’t go with you! You killed them!”

“You can’t not go with me,” Johnny said. “Get dressed!”

Those words made an impact. She shuddered, then making an effort, she opened her closet and took from it the man’s shirt and the stretch pants. Her closet was pathetically bare: a cheap cotton dress, a pair of worn Levis, a pair of broken-down shoes.

She pulled on her panties and the stretch pants. “You want to take any of this other junk?”

“No.”

“Come on.” He waited until she had put on the shirt and run a comb through her hair, then he led her into the living-room. “You’ve got to write a letter to Ed. Got any writing paper?”

Shaking, she sat at the table.

“In that drawer.”

He found a block of cheap notepaper and an envelope. He found a biro.

“Write this: Dear Ed. I’m sick of it here. I’m going with Johnny. We love each other, Freda.”

Somehow she wrote the note, her hand shaking. Johnny put it in the envelope and laid it on the table.

“Let’s go!”

He picked up his suitcase and, taking her by her arm, he hurried her across the jetty to the Lincoln.

As he started the motor, he looked at his strap watch. The time was o6.4o. At best, he thought, they had a three hour start before Luigi would begin to wonder where the two apes had got to. Then he would investigate, phone, and the organization would swing into action.

In a car like this you could go some way in three hours.

Driving steadily, with Freda still in shock at his side, he headed for the freeway.