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CHAPTER FIVE

As I walked from Gloria’s flat to Charing Cross Station to
collect my suit-case, I worked out a plan of campaign.

That good night kss, plus the whisky, had hopped me up
as if I had swallowed a handful of Benzedrine tablets. I was
chock full of confidence that I could handle the situation now.

I was going to make fifty pounds a week! Ann would have to know about it, of course, but that could be taken care of
without hurting her. It was essential she shouldn’t be hurt.

I couldn’t understand why I had been such a damned fool as to
have lied to her. In my present mood, it now seemed ridiculous
not to have told her I couldn’t go to the movies with her
because I had an important business date.

I had to straighten that out as soon as I got home. It would mean telling her a few more lies, but that couldn’t be helped.

Then there was Gloria. I didn’t love her, of course, but I
was certainly infatuated with her. Men get infatuated with girls, I argued to myself, in spite of being genuinely in love with their wives. It happens every day of the week; it has always happened, and it will always happen. You pass through this life but once, I said to myself, and you would be a mug to miss such an opportunity. Gloria wants you to make love to her.

You want to make love to her. Of course it isn’t strictly playing the game with Ann, but men are doing that kind of thing every night, so why shouldn’t you? What the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve about. So long as Ann doesn’t find out, and I’ll take damned good care she doesn’t find out, where’s the harm?
Have an affair with Gloria, I said to myself, and then
finish with it. You’ll settle down with Ann all the better for getting Gloria out of your system. I didn’t kid myself that Gloria was in love with me: nothing like that. Love didn’t come into it.

This was a physical storm through which we were both
passing. Get it over, and there’d be nothing more to it.
I really believed what I was telling myself. So long as
Ann didn’t find out, all would be well. Go ahead, I thought,
don’t take any chances, but don’t miss this opportunity.

As I walked down Eagle Street, I felt het up and emotional about Ann. She was a good kid. No one better. I loved her more than anyone else in the world. This thing with Gloria wouldn’t make any difference to my feelings towards Ann. I’d get it over and out of my system.

The thing to do was to get it over as quickly as I could, and then forget about her. It
would be as easy as that.

The light was on in the bedroom when I pushed open the door. Ann was in bed, her hair about her shoulders, her eyes
serious and worried as she looked at me.

“Well, I’m back.”
“Yes, Harry.”
I came into the room and closed the door.
“Did you enjoy the movie?”
“It was all right.”
I came to the foot of the bed and grinned at her. The
whisky was still hitting me, and I felt right on top of the world.

I’ll take that soared, worried look out of your eye in a
minute, darling, I said to myself. Wait ’til you hear what I’m going to tell you.
I saw her flinch.
“It’s late, Harry. Hadn’t you better get undressed?”

“I said I had a confession to make. Aren’t you curious?”
“What is it?”
I saw her hands clench into fists, and she quickly put
them under the sheet.
“Old Lewis didn’t call tonight: I was lying.”
She continued to stare at me for a long moment, then: “I
knew that, Harry.”
That jarred me. It spoilt my opening. I stared back at her.
“You knew? How did you know?”
“Does it matter? It was rather obvious, Harry. You’d
better get undressed.”

“Now look, you’re thinking things you have no right to
think. I only lied to you because I didn’t want to raise your hopes. I shouldn’t have done it, but I wasn’t sure if this offer was going to come off. I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

She was still staring at me, still worried, but suddenly not
so scared.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
I sat on the bed by her side.
“Of course you don’t ! Remember I told you I had to think
up an idea to get us out of this mess? Well, I thought of one.

There’s a company making television sets. As a matter of fact old Lewis mentioned the company to me when I was fixing his breakdown. He said they were looking for a West End Agency.

I decided to do something about it. I made inquiries and got
into touch with the right man. His name’s Ed Dix. You
remember when I went out yesterday afternoon to get those auto bulbs? Well, I went to see him. At first he didn’t seem interested, but I kept at him, and finally he said he would have to talk to his people, and he would phone me.

That was him phoning tonight when I said it was Lewis.” That’s what a lot of
whisky did to me.

The lies came so convincingly they almost convinced me. “He asked me to come over to his place right away. He still sounded doubtful, but I had an idea I could make him come down on my side. I couldn’t be sure, of course, so I didn’t tell you or Bill. I wanted to be absolutely sure before I broke the news.

Well, it’s in the bag, Ann, if he thinks the garage is big enough, and of course it is big enough. He’s coming to look at it on Monday, and I’m sure now I’ll clinch it. And listen, Ann, this is something big: it could really grow with any luck. He says I couldn’t make less than fifty pounds a week! Think of that ! Fifty a week! Why, d@mn it!

I’ll buy you a dozen pairs of slacks now: anything you like!”
She sat up, the scared, worried look gone, and her eyes
were sparkling.

“Oh, Harry! You worried me so!”
I put my arm round her and pulled her close.

“I know I shouldn’t have lied to you, Ann, but how did I
know you would see through me? I thought I had you and Bill
properly fooled. If I had even guessed you didn’t believe I was going out to Lewis I would have told you the truth. D@mn it!

Why didn’t you tell me? Why pretend you believed me when
you didn’t? You’ve been thinking all kinds of nonsense, haven’t you?”

“I’m sorry, Harry. I really am sorry.”
“I think you should be, Ann. Not so long ago you were
saying we mustn’t lose faith in each other. Well, you couldn’t
have had much faith in me tonight.”
“Oh, Harry, forgive me. I was so worried. I did think . . .”

“Never mind what you thought.” I didn’t want to hear her
say she thought I was going to Gloria. “It’s all right now.
Monday, if we have any luck, I’m going to be the boss of an
agency that’ll pay fifty quid a week. Think of it!”

“This is the answer to my prayer,” she said, and threw
her arms round my neck. “I know you think I’m silly about this,
Harry, but God is being good to us. I prayed last night for us.

I prayed for us just now before you came in. I couldn’t believe anything could be badly wrong: not between you and me,
Harry.”

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JAMES HADLEY CHASE

CHAPTER ONE

The truck’s headlights picked her out of the darkness the way
a spotlight pinpoints a solo act on the stage.

She stood beside a 1939 Buick Roadmaster that hadn’t
been washed in months nor polished in years. She had on a
grey flannel skirt and a wine-coloured suede jacket that zipped down the front. She raised her hand and waved to me.

I make it a rule while I’m driving not to stop when a girl
tries to thumb a ride, but this was different. From the look of it, she was in trouble with her car, and trouble with cars happens to be my business.

I pulled up by her and leaned out of the truck window.

“I’m stuck,” she said. “Can you help me?”
The hands of the dashboard clock showed twenty
minutes past eleven. I was tired and hungry. I had been
wrestling for the past two hours with a car that had broken down a mile or so beyond Northolt airfield, but I opened the truck door and got down on to the road.

“What’s the trouble?”
“It’s not petrol. The tank’s nearly full. The engine just
packed up.”

I went over to the Buick and lifted the hood. A smell of
burning told me all I wanted to know. I paused long enough to
throw the beam of my flashlight into the works, then I shut
down the hood.

“The ignition’s burned out. It’ll take a couple of days to
fix.”
“Oh, h*ell! Are you sure? You scarcely looked at it.”

“I don’t have to look at it. Can’t you smell it? Besides, I’m in the racket.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the truck. In the
reflected light from my headlamps she could read the red lettering on the white panel:

HARRY COLLINS, LTD.
Motor Engineers.
14 Eagle Street, W.1.

A couple of years ago I had been proud of that truck.
When I had taken delivery of it I had had a struggle to keep my
eyes off it, but the enthusiasm had worn thin. Now, it was my
idea of a whited sepulcher.

“Would you believe it?” The girl laughed. “Any other girl
would have stopped a masher, but I pick a motor engineer.
I’ve always been lucky.”

“You’re not all that lucky. There’s nothing I can do. I’ll
take you to the nearest garage if that’s any good to you.”
“There can’t be any garages open at this hour.”
“Then I can tow you until we find a place.”

“No, thanks. I don’t fancy being towed. Anyway, this old
ruin isn’t mine. I’m going to leave it right here. My friend can send out for it tomorrow.”
“Your friend will be tickled pink.”

She laughed.
“That’s his worry. I want to get home. Will you give me a
lift to the West-end?”

“If that’s what you want.”
She opened the truck door and got in.

I hesitated, looking at the black shape of the Buick.
“I don’t like leaving that car without lights. Someone
might run into it.”
“For goodness’ sake! Do you always worry about things
like that? It’s a wonder you haven’t grey hair.”

“I’m accident-minded. I wouldn’t like to hit it myself.”

I went around to the back of the truck, found a red
lantern, lit it and hung it on the Buick’s off-side rear door
handle.

“You won’t get that lantern back.”
“Then I won’t get it back.”
I climbed in beside her and started the engine. The light
from the dashboard fell on her slim, nylon clad legs. She was
showing her knees, and they were pretty knees. I looked at
her out of the corner of my eye. She was staring ahead, her
chin tilted. The light wasn’t good enough for me to see much
of her. I had only had a glimpse of her when my headlights had picked her out. I had noticed she had dark hair, parted in the middle, and that it fell to her shoulders and curled inwards.

I had a vague impression that she was above the usual
standard of prettiness, but I wasn’t too sure of that.
“Is this your truck?” She was opening her bag as she
spoke. She took out a packet of cigarettes and offered me
one.
“Yes, and it’s my business too.”

She held a match to my cigarette. I wanted to take a look at her in the light of the match flame, but a lorry was coming, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the road.

“So that makes you Harry Collins.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m Gloria Selby.”

We drove for a couple of hundred yards before she said:
“Do you often work as far from your base as this?”
“What makes you think I’ve been working?”
“You don’t seem the kind of man who’d go driving with
hands as dirty as yours unless you had been working.”

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

I

It was while we were having breakfast that I told Roy about Ricks.
“You have got to watch out for him,” I said. “He’s always dropping in unexpectedly. He was in yesterday, and he needled me into socking him. It was a d@mn silly thing to do but I did it.

He talked of going to the police.”
Roy looked up sharply.
“The police? Why?”
“He caught Lola and me fooling around together. He doesn’t know Jenson has gone off with
some woman. He wants to find him and make trouble.”

Roy finished his coffee and lit a cigarette. We were eating alone. Lola hadn’t got up yet.
“Why doesn’t Lola tell him that Jenson isn’t coming back?”
“For one thing it isn’t his business,” I said. “For another, he wouldn’t believe it.”

“I can imagine that.” Roy shook his head. “It certainly foxes me that a guy could be so dumb as to leave a set-up like this and a wife who can cook as well as she can.”

“If he comes around when we’re not here, Roy, watch him. Don’t let him have a thing and
don’t tell him anything.”
“Will he talk to the cops?”
“No. Even if he does, they wouldn’t listen to him.” I stood up. “How about giving me a hand?

This place has to be cleaned every morning. I guess Lola’s taking advantage of the new hand.

She’s still in bed.”
While we set about cleaning the lunch room, did you manage to get away? They said in the
survived.”

I told him.
Roy said, “Tell me about Farnworth, Chet. How
papers you’re the first man who has got out and
He was so fascinated that he leaned on the broom handle, listening, and every now and then he
shook his head in wonderment.

“Gee! You’ve got guts!” he said when I had finished. “I’m damned if I would have risked those dogs.”

“You would have risked anything to have got away from that place,” I said. “I’m not going
back. I would rather be dead.”
Roy grimaced.

“You should be safe here. You’re a long way from Farnworth. Who would think of looking for you here?”
“That’s the way I figure it.”

Through the window I caught sight of Lola coming over from the bungalow. She was wearing
her halter and shorts. She had piled her red hair to the top of her head and had caught it back with a strip of green ribbon.

I felt a sudden stab of uneasiness at the sight of her. She hadn’t worn that get-up for weeks.

Now, when another male was on the scene, she had suddenly decided to show off her body. I
looked quickly at Roy, who was polishing the counter.

Lola came in, smiling. She made quite an entrance.
“Hello,” she said. “That’s what I like to see—my two slaves hard at work.”

I was watching Roy. He paused, looked up and stared at her. She was leaning against the door post, looking directly at him. I’ve never seen her look so provocatively sexy and attractive.

Roy’s expression didn’t change. He just stared indifferently at her, then went on polishing the
counter.
“Hello there,” he said. “Are we the only two who work around here?”

I saw her expression harden. This wasn’t the reception she had expected. She had anticipated that Roy would have reacted to this display of feminine charm. I relaxed, turning away so she
couldn’t see my smile of satisfaction. It was still the same Roy: women meant nothing to him.

She walked across to the kitchen door. There she paused to look at Roy again, but he had his back to her and he was whistling under his breath. She went into the kitchen and slammed the door.

Roy winked at me.
“Women … I don’t know,” he said. “They’re never satisfied.”

“It was my fault,” I said. “I told her you weren’t interested in women. She couldn’t believe it.
Maybe she will now.”

A truck pulled up by the gas pumps and the driver honked on his horn.
“I’ll take care of it,” Roy said, and he went out to the truck.

I went into the kitchen.
Lola looked sulky. She had put on her overall and was busy preparing chickens for the spit.

“Let’s go to the movies tonight, Chet,” she said. “Roy can look after the place. We can catch the midnight performance. We’ll be back here by three.”
I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if it was safe for us to be seen together in Wentworth.
“Maybe we’d better wait, Lola …”
She turned quickly, her expression hardening.
“Wait for what?”
“No one knows the story yet.

Sooner or later we’ll have to put out the rumour Jenson has
walked out of here, but until we do, maybe it would be safer for us not to be seen together.”
“I’m sick and tired of having my fun alone,” she said. “I want to go to the movies tonight and I want you to go with me.
“Well, okay, then we’ll go. It’ll be dark. The chances are no one will spot us.”

“But, Chet, it doesn’t matter if anyone does spot us,” she said impatiently “It’s our business— not theirs.”
“Have you forgotten he’s buried here? If the police came out here and started to dig . . .”

“If the moon was made of green cheese! Do you think I’m going to spend the rest of my days
being scared of the police?
“You can talk. You haven’t been in Farnworth.”

Then Roy came in.
“Chet and I are going to the movies tonight,” Lola said to him, “Can you manage alone? We’ll go after the dinner hour. It’ll just mean serving gas and some sandwiches,”
Roy glanced at me. He looked surprised.

“Why, sure I’ll manage fine.”
She turned away and began putting the chickens on the spit.
“If you have a minute, Chet,” Roy went on, “I’d be glad you would take a look at my car.

It’s missing on damn near every plug. I never was any good with cars.”
“I’ll fix it,” I said “It’s time you learned to fix a car. What’s going to happen if Lola and me go to the movies and you get a breakdown?”
He grinned.

“I’ll have a breakdown on my hands,” he said.
He went to the kitchen door ahead of me, and pushed it open, then he paused abruptly—so abruptly I nearly cannoned in him.
“Look who’s here!”
I looked beyond him through the lunch room window.

A car had just pulled up. There were two men in it: both wearing Stetson hats and dark suits.
One of them, big, fat with a belly, got out of the car, leaving the other at the wheel.

The sun glittered on the star he wore on his lapel. As he squeezed out of the car, his coat fell open. I saw the gun belt and the .45 in its holster.
“Cops!” Roy said sharply.

I felt a chill snake up my spine. I looked wildly at Lola.
It was a funny thing but in this moment of panic I turned to her, feeling she and no one else could save me.

“It’s the sheriff,” I said. “He’s coming in here!”
Lola picked up a cloth and wiped her hands.

“I’ll handle him,” she said. She was as calm and as unruffled as a bishop presiding at a tea party. “It’s all right, Chet.”

It was easy for her to be calm. She hadn’t to face Farnworth. The sight of that fat sheriff froze my blood.

Both Roy and I stood aside and we watched her walk into the lunch room. As the door swung to behind her, I heard her say, “Why, hello, Sheriff, you’re quite a stranger.”

I felt sweat on my face as I leaned against the wall, listening. Roy stood on the either side of the
door, also listening and watching me.

“Hello there, Mrs. Jenson, nice to see you again.” The sheriff had a booming voice that carried easily to us. “Is Mr. Jenson around? I wanted a word with him.”

“Why, no. Carl is away.”
Lola’s voice sounded casual. I imagined her facing the sheriff, her green eyes bland and her expression unruffled. It would take a lot more than a fat sheriff to rattle her, but he was certainly rattling me.

“Mr. Jenson—away?” His voice registered his startled surprise. “That’s an event, isn’t it? I’ve never known him to leave here before. Where can I find him?”
“I don’t know.” She managed to convey by the tone of her voice that she didn’t care either.

“He’s moving around—anyway, that’s what he told me. He is supposed to be either in Arizona or Colorado. Since he left, I haven’t heard a word from him.”

“Any idea when he’ll be back, Mrs. Jenson?”
A pause, then she said in a cold, flat voice, “I don’t think he is coming back.”
I heard the sheriff’s grunt of surprise.

“Not coming back? What do you mean?”
“He’s walked out on me.”
There was a long pause. I could imagine him staring at her and getting a blank stare in return. I looked across at Roy, who was listening with the same intenseness as I was. Our eyes met. He frowned, shaking his head.

The sheriff said, “Well, this is a surprise. What makes you say that, Mrs. Jenson?”
“It’s not the first time a husband has found someone else he likes better than his wife.” She managed now to get a waspish note in her voice.

“What business is it of yours anyway, Sheriff? If Carl likes to make a fool of himself over some woman, that’s my headache, not yours.”

I heard him shuffle his feet.
“That’s a fact, Mrs. Jenson, but I’m sorry to hear it. Some woman, huh?”
“Oh, I suppose it is as much my fault as his. I shouldn’t have married him. He was too old for
me. From the start we didn’t get along together. Well, at least he did the decent thing: he left me this place. I won’t starve. What did you want to see him about? Anything I can do?”

The sheriff cleared his throat noisily.
“I understand there’s a fella working here—Jack Patmore. Is that right?”

My heart began to thump violently. I looked quickly around the kitchen for a weapon. There was a meat cleaver lying on the table. I reached out and grabbed it. I wasn’t going back to Farnworth. If this fat sheriff imagined he could take me, he was in for a surprise.

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I

The hands of my wristwatch showed one-forty. For the past half-hour there
had been no trucks coming through. I had been sweating it out for over three
hours—waiting for her.

Then suddenly I saw her come out of the bungalow. She moved languidly.
She was wearing a white shirt and a full, light-coloured skirt. Tight at the
waist and flowing out over her hips. She was certainly dressed for the occasion.

I was sitting in the basket chair in the shadows and I watched her come, my
heart thumping. I had a cigarette between my lips. So she could tell where I
was, I drew on the cigarette, making a little red spark in the darkness.

She came slowly up the steps and sat down in a basket chair near mine.
“Give me a cigarette,” she said.
I handed her my pack and my lighter. I couldn’t bring myself to light her
cigarette. I wasn’t going to be that much of a slave to her.
She lit her cigarette, then returned me the pack and the lighter. Her fingers
brushed mine. They felt hot and dry.
“You puzzled me,” she said. “I was sure you were a phoney, but I didn’t
guess you were the escaped safe robber. You’re quite a celebrity.”
“What’s it to you who I am so long as I do my job and make money for your
husband? Why should you care?”

“I have to think of myself.” She stretched out her long legs, sinking deeper
into the basket chair. “I could get into trouble with the police unless I tell
them you’re here.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” She drew on the cigarette. After a long pause, she
went on, “It depends on you. They said in the newspaper that you worked for Lawrence Safes.”

I looked in her direction. I couldn’t see her face. She was sitting in the shadows.
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“Everything so far as I’m concerned. Carl has a Lawrence safe. I want you to
open it.”
So Ricks had been right. She was after Jenson’s money.
“Is there something in it that you want?” I said. “Why don’t you ask him for
it?”
“Don’t be funny!” She moved irritably. “Remember what I said this
afternoon: from now on, you’re going to do what I say or else . . .”

“Doesn’t he give you enough? What do you want to steal his money for?”
“If you don’t open the safe, you’ll go back to Farnworth.” She crossed her
legs, adjusting her skirt. “I’ve heard about that jail. They’re tough there.

They’ll know what to do with you once they get their hands on you. Are you
going to open the safe or are you going back to Farnworth?”
“So Ricks was right. You are a tramp and you are after your husband’s money.”
“Never mind what Ricks said. Are you going to open the safe?”

“Suppose I do open it—what happens then?”
“I’ll give you a thousand dollars and a twenty-four hour start to get away.”
She had certainly dreamed up a nice little plot. I opened the safe. She
collected a hundred thousand dollars.

She gave me a thousand and I went on the run. Jenson would find the safe empty and I would be missing. The finger
would point to me. Once the police had my description, they would know I had opened the safe and they would automatically jump to the conclusion that
I had the money. It would never occur to anyone to suspect her. All she would have to do was to hide the money somewhere and wait.

If they caught me and I told them she had forced me to open the safe and she had the
money, it would be my word against hers. Jenson was too cr@zy about her to
believe me. When the uproar had quietened down, she would take the money
and disappear. It was a sweet little plot, and it could succeed.
“Do you know what he plans to do with the money you want to steal?” I said,
looking towards her. I couldn’t see much of her: just two hostile voices
talking in the dark. “He plans to go on a trip around the world. It’s something
he has been saving for for thirty years and he plans to take you with him:
everything first class. Don’t you want to go on a trip around the world?”
“With him? With that fat, old fool?” The note in her voice was vicious. “I
don’t even want to go to Wentworth with him.”
“But he loves you. Did you marry him only for what you could steal from
him?”
“Oh, shut up! How long will it take you to open the safe?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I won’t be able to open it. Those safes are tough.
Without the combination, it’s practically impossible open them.”
“You’d better open this one, Carson!”

I was talking to gain time. She had me over a barrel. There wasn’t a
Lawrence safe made that I couldn’t open. But I hated the thought of Jenson losing his money.

I hated the thought, too, that for the rest of his days he
would believe I had taken it. He was my friend. He was the only friend I had.

I couldn’t do that to him after what he had done for me, but unless I did I
would go back to Farnworth and that was something I just couldn’t face. I
had to think of a way to get out of this: there had to be a way.

With my mind still busy, I asked, “Where’s the safe?”
“In the sitting room in the bungalow.”
“How do you expect me to open it without him hearing me?”
“He’s going to a Legion meeting on Saturday. That’s when you’ll do it.”
I flicked the butt of my cigarette out into the hot night. As I lit another, I said,
“And what are you supposed to be doing while I’m busting open the safe—
watching me?”
“It’s my night shift. I’ll be in the kitchen, baking pies. I’ll be so busy I won’t
hear you leave. I won’t even know you have gone until he gets back.”

Then I saw how I could fix her. It was easy. There was nothing to it, except I
would be on the run again and I would be out of a good job, but at least I
wouldn’t have let Jenson down, and that was something pretty important to
me.
“What time does he leave and what time will he be back?”
“He leaves at seven and gets back around two o’clock.”

All right, you btch, I said to myself, now I’ve got it fixed. You are in for a
surprise. Okay, I’ll open the safe. Then when you walk in to collect, you’ll
walk into a clip on the jaw. I’ll take money. By the time you’ve come to, I’ll
be halfway over the mountain. I’ll take care you can’t use the telephone and
I’ll make sure you can’t raise the alarm until he gets back and finds you.

Then when I’m far away, I’ll write to him and tell him the whole story and
I’ll send him back his money: every cent of it. If I do that, he’ll believe me.

He’ll have to believe me if I do that and he’ll know what a treacherous bitch
he’s married to.

Just to kid her along, I said, “I hate doing a thing like this him. He’s been
pretty good to me.”
“Never mind the sob talk,” she said impatiently. “Are you going to open the
safe or are you going back to Farnworth?”
“Well …” I paused, then went on, “I’m not going back to Farnworth.”
“Then Saturday?”
I pretended to hesitate then shrugging my shoulders, I said, “I guess so. Okay,
I’ll do it.”
She got to her feet and flicked her cigarette away into the darkness.

“Don’t imagine I’m bluffing, Mr. Chet Carson. If you don’t open that safe,
you’re going back to Farnworth.”
“You don’t have to drive it into the ground,” I said, looking up at her. “I said
I’d d do it, didn’t I ?”
“You’d better do it!” she said, and walked down the steps across the moonlit
sand towards the bungalow.

I watched her go.
Well, the cards were face up on the table. It depended now on who outsmarted who.

I was pretty confident I had the four aces against her four kings.

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