We'll Share A Double Funeral

Chapter 10

Hank Hollis eased his position as he straddled the branch of the tree.

A depressing thought struck him. Fifteen years ago when he was twenty five years of age, he had thought nothing of hiding in a tree in steamy heat, watching, waiting, but now, after five hours of waiting, he realized he wasn’t the man he once was. His back was aching, his crotch was getting sore, The mosquitoes tormented him. All this he had laughed off fifteen years ago. He remembered once a snake coming along the branch where he was sitting. He hadn’t moved. He knew one move from him would alert the Vietnamese sniper who was watching. He had let the snake slide over his legs and disappear into the foliage. He was damn sure he wouldn’t have remained still now.

Fifteen years was a long time. Although he attended the rifle club twice a week, was reckoned to be the best shot there, he knew his shooting wasn’t as sharp as it once was. He took a look at his watch. The time was 4:25. In another three hours it would be dusk, then quick darkness. Would Logan show himself? Hollis decided he couldn’t remain up the tree during the night. As soon as it dark, he would climb down, move into the forest to sleep. Then, before dawn, he would climb the tree again to wait.

Then he heard a soft bleep from his radio and switched it on.

“Sheriff?”

“Yup.” Ross’s voice was soft. “I’m now damn sure that Logan is in the lodge. I’ve been talking to Weston.”

Briefly, he described the conversation he had had with Perry. “Weston is in a tight situation, Hank. So long as Logan remains out of sight, there’s nothing we can do for either Weston or his wife. I could call out the National Guard and have the lodge surrounded, but that would mean Logan would murder the Westons. Weston is smart. He has ideas. He could persuade Logan to show himself. Then it’s up to you.”

Hollis wiped the sweat off his face. “I’m with you, Sheriff.”

“It looks as if Logan is going to make a break for it. Weston drew ten thousand dollars from his bank. Logan could take off when it’s dark, but I’m sure he will kill both the Westons before he goes. He wouldn’t want them to raise the alarm that he is on the move. This is a real mess, Hank.”

“Yeah. Okay, I’ll keep watch.”

“I guess I should come down there and relieve you...”

“No, this is my problem, not yours.” Hollis heard Ross sigh. “I’ll handle it.”

“How are you making out, Hank? You’ve been up that tree for more than five hours.”

Hollis hesitated, then decided he wasn’t going to get Ross in a flap. The last thing he wanted was this big, bulky man pushing his way through the forest and alerting Logan. “I’m fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me, Sheriff. This is my specialty. I’ll keep in touch. Tell Mrs Ross her sandwiches were great.”

“Okay. Keep alert. Let me know when Weston gets back,” and Ross switched off.

The next hour dragged by. Hollis kept shifting his position. He looked down at the glittering river and longed to take off his sweat soaked clothes and take a swim. To pass the time he ate some of the cold fried chicken. He was thirsty and longed for a beer. He also longed for a cigarette.

“Show yourself, you bastard!” he thought. Come on, show yourself! But there were no signs of life from the lodge. Yes, he was right. Logan must be there, otherwise, on this hot evening, Weston’s wife would have come out. Hollis imagined her, terrified, cooped up with a thug like Logan.

Then he heard the sounds of the jeep approaching. He became very alert. He saw the jeep pull up outside the lodge and watched Perry get out. Perry took from the hatch back a sack of shopping and he saw the front door open. Perry entered and the door shut.

Hollis switched on the radio.

“Sheriff?”

“Listening.”

“Weston’s back. He’s left the jeep outside the entrance.”

“Okay. Keep alert, Hank,” and Ross switched off.

Brown, his face a hard, suspicious mask, had his gun in his hand.

“Shut and bolt the door, Perry. Put the sack down. Now turn around. No tricks!”

Perry did as he was told and felt Brown’s powerful hands run over his body.

“Okay,” Brown said. “Now I’ll take a look at the sack. I never take chances. If there’s a gun in it, you’re dead!”

With a swift movement, he upended the sack and surveyed its contents, then he grinned at Perry.

“You’re smart. Onions, huh? You like onions?”

“Where’s my wife?” Perry said.

“No problem. She’s upstairs, unpacking. I said you play straight with me and I’ll play straight with you. Let’s talk.”

Holstering his gun, he walked into the living room. “What’s the news?”

Perry followed him and sat down. “I’ve got the money. Ten thousand in one hundred dollar bills.”

“Man! Aren’t you smart!” Brown said, leaning against the wall. “What’s the pressure like?”

“I talked to the Sheriff. The search for you has shifted to Miami. There is no pressure here.”

Brown stared at him. “This straight?”

With an effort, Perry kept his face expressionless. “Straight.”

“Did you talk to the Deputy?”

“No.”

“Did you see him?” Here it is, Perry thought, sure that the lean, tough looking Deputy was the man up in the tree, overlooking the lodge. He took out a pack of cigarettes.

“I saw him,” he lied. “He was doing something to the patrol car. I didn’t speak to him.”

“Straight?” There was a snap in Brown’s voice.

Perry lit the cigarette. “Straight.”

“The Sheriff is nothing, but that Deputy...” Brown rubbed his chin. “So, okay, the pressure’s off. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Where’s the money?”

“In the jeep.” Brown’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t sit there! Go, get it! I want to see what ten thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills look like.”

Perry had never ceased to marvel at the speed of thought. In that split second, as he stared up at Brown, a thought flashed into his mind. Suppose he told Brown to get the money himself? Suppose Brown, anxious to lay his hands on the money, thoughtlessly went out to the jeep?

Find a pretext to get him out into the open.

“Hear me?” Brown snarled. “Go, get it!”

No, Perry thought. It would be far too dangerous to tell this man to get it himself. Looking at Brown, seeing the suspicious gleam in his eyes, Perry decided Brown wouldn’t go, and, what was more, he would begin to distrust him. If he was to get Brown into the open, he would have to think of a much more subtle method.

He got slowly to his feet, crushed out his cigarette, then walked to the door. “I’ll get it.”

Brown followed him to the front door, his gun now in his hand. He drew the bolts.

“No tricks, Perry,” he said. “Hurry it up.”

Hollis, in his tree, heard the bolts being drawn. He snatched up his rifle, ready for action. Then seeing Perry come hurriedly out of the lodge to the jeep, he muttered a curse.

Was Logan never going to show himself?

He watched Perry return to the lodge, a big, bulky envelope in his hand. The money, of course, he thought. Well, this could be the start of something. But suppose Logan took off when it was dark? He would have to stay alert from now on. There would be no question of sleep.

Cradling the rifle, he leant his aching back against the tree and waited. Half an hour crept by. At least the mosquitoes seemed bored with tormenting him, and it was turning cooler. What he would give for a cigarette! Then something happened which he wished would never have happened. He heard a rustle in the undergrowth that stiffened him to attention, his hands gripping the rifle. Then a dog began to bark.

He peered down, but the tree foliage was so thick he couldn’t see the ground.

He could hear the dog snarling and barking at the foot of the tree. Then he heard a man call out, “Found something up there, Jacko? Come on! You ain’t no tree climber!” With sweat running down his face, Hollis raised himself. He could see a tall, thickset man, a fishing rod in his hand, by the river.

The dog continued to bark savagely.

Hollis remained motionless. What a goddamn giveaway, he thought. Logan must hear the dog! The man called again, a snap in his voice. “Jacko! To heel!” The dog abruptly stopped barking and joined the man on the river path. The man bent and patted the dog, and the two moved on, passing the lodge. For a moment, the man paused to stare at the parked jeep, then went on, the dog obediently following him.

As Perry returned to the lodge, Brown snatched the envelope from his hand and slammed and bolted the door.

“Ten thousand dollars, huh?” Brown grinned at Perry. “Man! You’re smart!” He moved into the sitting room.

“I want to talk to my wife,” Perry said. “You count the money, Jim. Just make sure I haven’t cheated you.”

Brown’s steel like fingers closed on his arm. “Plenty of time, Perry,” he said. “You have a lifetime to talk to your wife. She’s okay. You played straight with me. I told you I’d play straight with you. I want to talk to you.”

Knowing resistance would be dangerous, Perry went with him into the living room. He watched as Brown spilled out the bills on the table.

“Man! Money!” Brown muttered. “The most beautiful sight in the world!” He pushed the bills around with a thick finger. “I’ve never seen so much money.” He turned and grinned at Perry. “You’re smart, Perry.”

“I want to talk to my wife,” Perry said quietly.

“Sure. You said that before.” Brown began to gather up the bills, pushing them into the envelope. “Okay, sit down. I want to go over this again.”

Containing his impatience, Perry sat down and lit a cigarette. Brown sat opposite him, the envelope in his hand.

“Go over what again?” Perry asked.

“You saw that old fart of a Sheriff... right?”

“I saw him.”

“And he told you the cops are now looking for me in Miami... right?”

“Yes.”

“He said the pressure was off... right?”

“That’s what he told me.” Brown stared directly at Perry, his vicious eyes probing.

“You believed him?”

“I had no reason not to,” Perry said, aware his mouth was turning dry.

Brown nodded. “Around Miami... right?”

“The pressure’s on around Miami. So the Sheriff told me.”

“No pressure here, huh?”

Perry thought of the cop up in the tree, watching the lodge. He dragged on his cigarette and slowly released the smoke. “That’s what the Sheriff said.”

“You’d know, wouldn’t you, Perry?”

“I only know what he told me.”

“He wouldn’t lie to you, would he, Perry?”

Perry felt sweat trickling down his spine. “We’re good friends, Jim. There’s no reason for him to lie to me.”

“Although we ain’t good friends, Perry, you wouldn’t lie to me either?”

At this moment the telephone bell rang. Brown stiffened. Automatically the gun jumped into his hand.

“Answer it, but be careful. No tricks.”

Perry got to his feet and lifted the receiver. “Is that Perry?” A man’s voice said.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Gene Franklin. I’ve been trying to contact you. Your phone was out of order. How are you?”

Perry drew in a deep breath. Keeping his voice steady, he said, “I’m fine.” He was aware of Brown pointing a gun at him. “Long time no see. How are you?”

“Fine. I’m at Jacksonville. I’ve got a contract I want to talk to you about. Suppose I drive over or maybe you can come up here?”

“Sorry, Gene. You’ve interrupted. I’m getting this script together. I don’t want to leave it. The contract will have to wait.”

“Sure, I understand. Well, I guess it can wait, but S. S. H. wants it signed.”

“He’ll have to wait too.” There was a snap in Perry’s voice.

“I met your wife at Jacksonville. She’s with you, isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

A pause, then Franklin said, “S. S. H. wouldn’t approve. She’ll be a distraction.”

If the situation hadn’t been so desperate, Perry would have laughed. Distraction? How about a vicious killer sitting there, pointing a gun at him?

“I write scripts for Mr Hart, but neither he nor anyone else dictates my private life,” Perry said. “See you around, Gene,” and he hung up.

Brown returned the gun to its holster.

“That’s telling them, Perry,” he said and grinned. “You’re smart.”

“You finished, Jim? I want to talk to my wife.”

“Sure. You seem to have your wife on your nut. She’s okay. I want to tell you something. When it’s dark, I’m taking off,” Brown said. “You’ll like that, won’t you? I’ll take the jeep. No cop has ever caught me, and no cop ever will. I’ll take off.”

Perry passed his hand over his sweating face.

“Can’t say I’ll be sorry, Jim,” he said, and forced a smile. “This has been an experience.”

“I guess.” Brown leaned back in his chair.

“One thing, Perry. Listen good. I like you. You’re smart, and you’ve been straight with me. Watch that wife of yours. Man! She needs watching. Know her problem? She has red hot pants. If she was my wife, I’d beat the hell out of her. I’m being straight with you. It’s not my business, but I’m telling you.” He rolled up his sleeve to reveal the cobra tattooed on his arm. “I’d trust her as far as I’d trust this snake. Okay?”

As Perry began to protest, both men heard the loud, savage barking of a dog.

For more than an hour Sheila lay on the big double bed, Brown’s words burning into her mind, over and over again: To me, you are no better than the worst hooker I’ve ever screwed. You are, to me, like the mess a dog makes on the sidewalk.

At first, tears of humiliation ran down her face. Then the shock of sexual frustration, then, finally, a cold rage. Her body stiffened, her fists clenched.

No man had ever dared to speak to her like this! You ape! God! You stinking animal! She swung her legs off the bed and stood up. The rage engulfing her left her breathless. She hammered her clenched fists together. Her body was shaking.

No man would ever speak to her like that and get away with it. You are, to me, like the mess a dog makes on the sidewalk.

Me! Sheila began to move slowly around the room.

After some five minutes, she gained control of herself, but her rage against Brown burned. Her breathing eased, and she began to think. She sat down and stared at the sunlit window.

I’ll fix you, you ape, she told herself. Somehow, I’ll fix you! How can I? she thought. But I’ll do it if it’s the last thing I ever do! Mushy thinking. I want to see you dead. How? A good question. She thought of the telephone. The police! Then she realized this was still mushy thinking. She would never get near the telephone. This ape was in control!

Wait a few minutes. Get control of yourself, she thought. She got up and went into the bathroom. She bathed her face in cold water. She looked at herself in the mirror, aware that the steel in her was exerting itself. She was now relaxing. She spent some minutes fixing her face, then satisfied, she returned to the bedroom and opened the suitcase Calhoun had lent her. She selected a fresh shirt and another pair of jeans and dressed. All the time her mind was active. Her thoughts were only on Brown. How to fix him?

Now, almost calm, she sat in a lounging chair. Her mind darted like a field mouse collecting food.

Finally she nodded, now completely calm. Nothing else will do. I must kill him!

She sat still, repeating the thought again in her mind.

Yes! But how?

She thought of his brute strength. The way he crushed the pewter ashtray. The way he had slapped Perry. If only she had a gun!

Then she stiffened and sat up straight.

A gun. She had a gun! How could she have forgotten?

She remembered taking Perry’s gun from the safe and scaring the life out of that stinking private eye. She remembered stuffing the gun into her handbag.

She jumped to her feet.

Where was the handbag? She looked at the two suitcases. She looked around the room, her eyes searching.

No handbag.

Then she remembered. She had put the handbag in the jeep’s map pocket by the driver’s seat when she had left Jacksonville. Perry had missed it. So, the handbag was in the jeep, parked outside the lodge.

How to get it?

Then she heard the sound of a car approaching. She ran to the window and saw the jeep pull up outside the lodge. She saw Perry get out, carrying a plastic sack, and enter the lodge.

She stared for a long moment at the jeep, knowing she had to get to it and get her handbag. She heard voices below, and moving silently, she opened the bedroom door to listen.

“I want to talk to my wife.” She heard Perry say, Brown said something, then a door shut and she heard no more.

Wait, she told herself. The time must come. The gun is there. Just wait.