CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
In the hard sunlight, Dix looked grotesque and frightening as he got stiffly out of the car.
Both Joe and Louis took a quick step back when they saw his face. It was stained a violent sky blue, and it looked like some gruesome mask you might dream about in a nightmare.
“For God’s sake, Ed!” Joe gasped. “Haven’t you got that
stuff off your face yet?”
“Shut up!” Dix snarled. He seemed beside himself with
rage. “Get the car into the barn. Snap it up! We don’t want
anyone to spot us here.”
“No one’s passed all day,” Louis said. He was staring at
Dix curiously. “What happened to you? We’ve been waiting
and waiting . . .”
“Get that car out of sight!” Dix said violently. “Here,
Glorie . . .” He turned and put out his hand.
She moved over to him. I saw her look at Joe and shake
her head slightly. She took Dix’s arm.
“Get him a drink, Joe. He’s had a bad time.”
“You’re not hurt, are you, Ed?” Joe asked, staring at him
“I’m all right. Get me a drink, damn you!” Dix snarled.
Louis got into the car and drove it over to the barn.
“It’s as hot as hell in the house,” Joe said. He glanced at
Gloria, raising his eyebrows. “Go and sit over there in the
shade.”
Dix hooked his fingers in his collar and pulled savagely.
“I sweated blood in the goddam car.”
“Come on, Ed,” Gloria said. “Well sit down. Hurry with
that drink, Joe.”
Joe set off at a run.
Dix and Gloria came towards the tree behind which I was
hiding. Quietly I slid back into the long grass and lay flat. They sat down with their backs to the tree. I wasn’t more than ten feet from them.
“How are your eyes now, Ed?” Gloria asked, and she
looked searchingly at him.
Dix pulled off his coat. Under the coat he wore a
shoulder holster. He put his hand on the gun butt and eased
the gun in the holster.
“Not too good. I’m glad I shot that b@stard. He had it
coming to him.” He reached out and caught hold of Gloria’s
wrist. “You’re going to stick by me, aren’t you, Glorie? I don’t trust those other two.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Gloria said. “They’re all right. You
couldn’t help it, Ed. It could have happened to anyone.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Dix said. His grip
tightened on her wrist and I saw her bite her lip to stop from crying out.
“You’re hurting me,” she said. “You don’t have to ask. Of
course I’ll stick by you. I love you, Ed.”
“Do you? I sometimes wonder. You never liked that
movie set-up of mine, did you?”
“No, but I got paid for it. I’d do anything for you, Ed. You
know that.”
He showed his teeth in a mirthless grin.
“You stick to me, Glorie, and you won’t regret it. There’s
still some money left; I’II give you a good time in Paris.
Just watch those other two. I don’t trust them.”
“Joe’s coming now,” she said in a whisper.
Joe came over the grass carrying a bottle of Scotch,
glasses and a siphon of soda. Louis joined him. They sat
down a few feet from him.
“What happened to Berry?” Dix demanded.
“We took him to his flat,” Joe said. He poured out a big
whisky, splashed in soda and offered it to Dix.
“Is he dead?” Dix said. He paid no attention to the glass
of whisky.
“Here—don’t you want your drink?”
Dix put out his hand. His fingers groped six or seven
inches from Joe’s hand. Joe put the drink into the questing
fingers and looked at Gloria, his face startled.
“Is he dead?” Dix repeated.
“He must be by now.”
“What do you mean—by now?” Dix snarled. “Didn’t you
finish him?”
“He was dying,” Louis said indignantly, “There was no
need for that.”
Dix slopped his drink as he half started up.
“You spineless fools! He knew our plans! You mean you
left him within reach of a telephone? Do you imagine he’ll keep his trap shut?”
“He couldn’t move,” Joe growled. “I wouldn’t have left
him if I hadn’t been sure he couldn’t get help. Take it easy, Ed.
It’s okay. He’s dead by now.”
“You should have put a slug through his head.”
“Someone would have heard the shot. You don’t have to
worry about him, Ed. Take it easy.”
“You make me puke. You could have smothered him or
opened his veins . . .”
Gloria put her hand on his arm.
“Don’t talk that way, Ed.”
Dix pulled away from her. He drank the whisky, dropped
the glass on to the grass, and fumbled for a cigarette.
“Why haven’t you got that stuff off your face yet, Ed?”
Louis asked, after a long pause.
“I can’t get it off!” Dix said furiously. “Do you think I
haven’t tried? What the h*ell do you drink I’ve been doing all this time? I’ve scrubbed my goddam face until it’s raw. I can’t shift it!”
There was a sudden sharp silence.
“But you can’t go round with a face like that,” Joe said
slowly. “They’ll spot you a mile off, and if we’re with you, they’ll
spot us too.”
“Shut your trap! I tell you I can’t get it off. It’s some
chemical. It’ll have to wear off.”
“Well, that’s fine,” Louis said sarcastically. “How long do
you reckon it’ll take to wear off?”
“How do I know? Shut up talking about it!”
Again there was a tense silence, then Joe said, “What
happened to you after you left us, Ed?”
“Don’t keep asking me questions,” Dix snarled. “Ask her if you must know: she’ll tell you.” He got uneasily to his feet. “I want some sleep. I’ve been on the go since last night. Is there a bed in there?”
“I’ll show you,” Louis said, getting to his feet.
Dix reached out and caught hold of Louis’s arm.
“My eyes hurt,” he said. “Some of that stuff I got on my
face got into my eyes.”
I heard Joe draw in a sharp, quick breath.
“You mean you can’t see, Ed?”
“I can see all right. It just smarts.” He wouldn’t let go of
Louis’s arm. “Come on. Show me a bed.”
The two went off together.
Joe sat crossed-legged, staring down at his big hands.
“Got a cigarette, Joe?” Gloria asked. She stretched out
her long, shapely legs and leaned her back against the tree.
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