1944 - Just the Way It Is

by James Hadley Chase

  Joe was young in years but old in experience. As far as he could remember he was either eighteen or nineteen years of age. He didn’t know when he had a birthday. That kind of thing never interested him. Even when he was a child living in a charitable institute, he had kept to himself. He had run away from the institute when he felt that he could look after himself.

  Schultz had found him a year later and had given him a job as his chauffeur. He had repaid Schultz in many ways and although Schultz was never quite sure whether to trust him or not, he was glad to have the boy around the house.

  Joe was slight, small-boned and thin. He always wore the same dirty flannel trousers and soft leather jerkin that zipped down the front. He wore a black and white cloth scarf round his neck and his thick black hair looked like a piece of sealskin draped over his head. It was short, and very thick. Joe cut it himself, hacking off pieces so that it was always uneven and ragged.

  His small boned face was pale. His best features were his eyes. They were large and dark with thick eyelashes.

  He stood in the doorway, looking at Lorelli with expressionless eyes, then he came into the room, quietly closing the door with his heel.

  Lorelli glanced over her shoulder and then turned back to the window.

  Joe wandered over to the dressing table and began to fiddle with her cosmetics. He picked up each jar, unscrewed the top and sniffed, then he put the top on again, returned the jar to the place where he had found it and picked up another.

  Lorelli said, ‘Fatty was talking about you and me.’

  ‘I know,’ Joe said, sniffing at a cut-glass scent bottle. The perfume pleased him and he tilted the bottle so that a drop touched his fingers. He put the stopper back and then rubbed the scent on the palms of his hands, cupping them, he covered his nose and mouth and breathed in deeply.

  Lorelli turned from the window and lay on the bed again. ‘He’s beginning to scare me,’ she said.

  Joe laughed. It was a flat, mirthless noise, the nearest he ever came to showing that he was amused. ‘Him?’ he said, and laughed again.

  ‘Harry Duke told me he caught Paul putting a rope round my neck. Do you think he was going to kill me?’

  Joe picked up Lorelli’s scissors and began to trim the hair over his ears. ‘Don’t you?’ he asked, casually.

  ‘Paul says Duke’s lying.’

  Joe went on snipping his hair. ‘I wonder what he’d’ve done with your body?’ he asked, suddenly.

  ‘Don’t, Joe!’ Lorelli shivered.

  He glanced across at her. When she saw the glow in his eyes, she relaxed. ‘I’m scared, Joe,’ she said.

  ‘What else did he say?’ He put the scissors down.

  Lorelli turned on her side, swinging one leg up and down nervously. The flash of the red silk fascinated Joe. ‘He talked about poison.’

  Joe laughed again. ‘He just wanted to scare you. What’s he know about poison?’

  ‘He said you killed two men. Was that supposed to scare me too?’

  ‘Does it?’

  ‘No.’ Lorelli was a little angry at his indifference. ‘But, you never told me. Who were they? Why did you do it?’

  ‘Does it matter?’ Joe was bored with this. ‘I forget. Anyway, we’re wasting an awful lot of time.’

  She knew she would get nothing out of him. ‘We’ve got all day,’ she said, crossly. ‘He won’t be back until tonight.’

  ‘Did he tell you that? Maybe he’s just taken a turn round the block.’

  ‘Don’t tell me you’re scared of him too?’

  Joe laughed.

  Looking at him, Lorelli felt reassured. There was no weakness in that stony white face that stared at her out of the mirror.

  There was a pause, then Joe said, ‘Tell me what happened. That’s why I’m here.’

  ‘No other reason?’ Lorelli looked sulky.

  ‘Later, perhaps. But I want to know. Why did you go with Duke?’

  ‘Paul scared me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t bring you into it. You know that. When Duke gave me the chance of going with him, I grabbed at it.’

  Joe watched her. ‘I don’t know why you lie to me,’ he said, fiddling with the scent again. ‘I saw how you looked at Duke. You phoned him about Bellman. I heard you. So why lie?’

  ‘Oh, damn you, Joe.’ Lorelli rolled on her back.

  ‘Why didn’t you stay with him? You could have.’

  ‘It wasn’t because of you,’ she jeered. ‘I was going to, Joe. He’s a man. You know that.’

  ‘I know.’ Joe tried lipstick on the back of his hand. ‘I thought I’d seen the last of you. Why did you come back?’ There was no bitterness in his voice. He just stated a fact.

  ‘You’re a funny kid.’ Lorelli drew up her knees and hugged them against her chin. ‘Wouldn’t you have missed me?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ Joe didn’t sound as if he cared much. ‘I’d have got used to it. Why didn’t you stay?’

  ‘I was frightened. Something happened.’

  Joe glanced over at her. ‘What’s the matter with you? You losing your nerve or something?’

  ‘He wouldn’t take me to his rooms. He took me to a friend of his. They let me have the bed and they used the other room.’ Lorelli rocked up and down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. ‘All the time I was in the room, I felt that I wasn’t alone. Have you ever felt like that?’

  ‘Me?’ Joe shook his head. ‘Why should I?’

  ‘In the end I got scared. There was a big cupboard and I felt someone was in it. I didn’t look and see. I pushed up the window and dropped into the street. I came back here.’

  Joe came over and sat on the bed beside her. ‘It’s in the paper this morning,’ he said, quietly. ‘Timson was found in Cullen’s room with his throat cut.’

  Lorelli unwound her arms from her knees and sat up. She clutched Joe’s arm ‘Let me see,’ she said. ‘I’m not in it, am I?’

  Joe shook his head. ‘Don’t get excited,’ he said. ‘Maybe Timson was in the cupboard all the time, watching you. Maybe, he was in there cutting his throat. They say he committed suicide.’

  Lorelli took his small, warm hand in hers. ‘I’m scared, Joe,’ she said. ‘I wish we could get away. I don’t like this. I don’t like Paul anymore.’

  Joe pushed her back on the bed. He looked down at her. A muscle in his cheek began to twitch. ‘I’ll take care of him,’ he said, softly. He touched her throat very gently with his fingers.

  She flinched staring up at him.

  ‘Why do you do that?’

  ‘I was just thinking. So he put a rope round your neck, did he?’ His small spidery fingers continued to caress her throat. ‘He shouldn’t have done that.’

  The look in his eyes chilled her and she pulled herself close to him, burying her face against the soft leather of his jerkin.

  Still smiling, his eyes on the opposite wall, Joe continued to caress her throat.

  FOURTEEN

  Harry Duke heard someone say, ‘Maybe I’d better throw water over him.’

  He opened his eyes and blinked up at Casy’s anxious face. Behind Casy was another guy. Duke couldn’t see him clearly in the dim light. He sat up slowly. ‘Don’t you throw water at me,’ he said, ‘I wash once a day and that’s quite enough.’

  ‘You all right, mister?’ Casy asked, a look of relief coming into his face.

  ‘Well, I don’t know about being all right,’ Duke said, feeling his head with gentle fingers. There was a slight swelling in his hair and another just above the bridge of his nose. He swore softly as pain darted through his head.

  ‘Did you fall downstairs, or something?’ Casy asked. ‘Let me get you a drink.’

  ‘Now you’re talking,’ Duke said, levering himself to his feet. He shook his head and the pain became localized, hammering his temples.

  He walked slowly back into Casy’s sitting room and took the mug of applejack that Casy held out to him.

  He felt a lot better when the strong spirit
hit his stomach. ‘That’s better’ he said, and sat down in the rocking chair.

  Casy said, ‘This is Jetkin. He owns the shack next door.’

  Duke looked at the thin, towering giant and nodded. ‘I’m not feeling my best,’ he said. ‘You’ll excuse me.’

  Jetkin gaped at him and moved his large feet uncomfortably. ‘Sure,’ he said. He was chewing steadily and every now and then he would swallow, making a fierce little grimace.

  Duke hoped he wasn’t chewing tobacco.

  ‘What happened to you, mister?’ Casy asked. ‘I found you lying at the bottom of the stairs. It gave me a proper fright. Did you fall or something?’

  Duke looked at him and shook his head. ‘I heard someone upstairs, Casy,’ he said. ‘So I went up and ran into a kick in the face. One of your friends?’

  ‘I live here alone,’ Casy said. ‘Are you sure?’

  Duke touched his forehead. ‘Think I’m dreaming?’ he said, dryly.

  ‘Someone upstairs?’ Casy and Jetkin exchanged glances.

  Duke got up. ‘Come on, you two,’ he said. ‘We’ll have a look round.’

  He went out of the room, opened the front door to let the sunlight in and walked stiffly upstairs. Casy and Jetkin followed him.

  When he reached the landing, he paused. ‘Where do we go from here?’ he asked.

  Casy pushed past him and threw open a door. ‘There ain’t nothing up here,’ he said. ‘I only use the downstairs.’

  Duke peered into the small empty room and saw nothing. The windows were boarded up, but the light from the hall was enough for him to see that the room was unfurnished.

  He shook his head and backed out of the room.

  Casy went a little farther down the passage and opened another door. ‘This is the only other room up here,’ he said.

  It was dark and Duke couldn’t see anything. ‘Can’t we have a light?’ he asked, impatiently.

  Casy went over to the window and pulled a board away. It made a sharp screeching noise as the nails were ripped from the wall.

  Sunlight entered the room which seemed full of broken furniture and other junk.

  Duke stood looking round. He looked at the dust covered floor. Someone had been up there. Blurred footprints showed on the dusty boards.

  ‘There’s where he was,’ Jetkin said, pointing to the smudges in the dust.

  Duke glanced over at Casy. ‘Any idea who it could have been?’ he asked, feeling a sudden rage boiling up inside him. He knew he had been very near to solving the mystery of Pinder’s End.

  Casy shook his head. ‘I guess not,’ he said. ‘What would anyone want up here?’

  Duke began to wander round the room. He examined the damp marks on the walls, the fireplace, the boards and the ceiling. He found nothing.

  ‘I wish I knew,’ he said, in disgust. ‘But someone was up here, after something.’ He stood back and scratched his head. ‘How long have you lived in this joint?’

  Casy thought for a moment. ‘Must be getting on for six years,’ he said. ‘That was when my wife was alive. We used the whole of the house then. This was our bedroom. When she went, I gave up these rooms and lived downstairs.’

  Duke wandered round the room again.

  Jetkin and Casy watched him with interest.

  ‘There’s nothing here,’ Casy said, as if reading his thoughts. ‘There’s nothing anyone would want.’

  Duke faced him. ‘There must be,’ he said shortly. ‘I’m as sure of that as I’m sure you two guys are standing here.’ He went over to the mantelpiece and ran his fingers over the dust. ‘What’s this?’ he asked, suddenly.

  Casy peered over his shoulder.

  On the mantelpiece, carved on the wood were the initials F.N.

  ‘Oh, that?’ Casy shrugged his shoulder indifferently. ‘That was there, when we came. I reckon the last owner did it.’

  Harry Duke wiped more dust away. The carving had been done a long time ago.

  ‘Yeah,’ Duke said. ‘It looks old.’ His fingers traced over the carving thoughtfully. ‘F.N., I wonder what that’d stand for?’

  ‘This house has been up over a hundred years,’ Casy said. ‘Anyone could have put it there.’

  ‘A hundred years, huh?’ Duke shook his head. ‘Makes you think.’ He took out his penknife and opened the blade. ‘Mind if I put my initials alongside that?’

  Casy and Jetkin exchanged glances. ‘That’s okay,’ Casy said, ‘if you want to.’

  After a few minutes work, Duke compared the initials. His stood out clearly, showing a new scar. He could see that the other initials had been done a long time ago and he was satisfied.

  ‘Oh well,’ he said. ‘There don’t seem anything.’ He walked across the floor testing the boards with his toe. They all seemed solid enough. ‘Ever looked under this lot?’ he asked, abruptly.

  Casy shook his head. ‘Nothing under there, mister,’ he said.

  ‘All the same we’ll have a look now we’re up here.’

  Jetkin pointed to a board in the window corner. ‘Looks like someone’s had a look already.’

  Duke crossed over and knelt in the dust. The board had been levered up recently. He could see the fresh scars where a crowbar had been inserted. He trod on the board which lifted and then he got his fingers under it and pulled it up. There was only plaster and laths of the ceiling below.

  He struck a match and peered under the floor. He could see nothing except dirt and a few spiders. He put the board back and stood up, dusting his trousers.

  ‘Well, there it is,’ he said, and shrugged.

  The other two watched him with interest. ‘What are you looking for, mister?’ Jetkin asked.

  Duke smiled mirthlessly. ‘No idea, pal,’ he said. ‘I always go on like this in a strange house.’

  Again Casy and Jetkin exchanged glances.

  Duke pulled out his .38. ‘Know how to use this?’ he asked Casy.

  Casy took it from him. ‘Sure,’ he said, ‘I used to own one years ago.’

  ‘Well, keep it by you,’ Duke said, looking at him intently. ‘Don’t let anyone get in this dump. Do you understand? There’s something in here that someone wants and it’s up to you to see he doesn’t get it.’ He felt in his pocket and pulled out a roll of money.

  Jetkin caught his breath sharply.

  ‘I’d like to put you guys on my payroll,’ Duke went on. ‘Here’s a hundred bucks. Just keep anyone out of here.’

  Casy’s serious eyes became a little hostile. ‘Listen mister,’ he said. ‘This is my home. I don’t need money to keep guys out of my home.’

  Duke stared at him. He hadn’t expected that kind of reaction. ‘You’ll excuse me,’ he said, ‘I wasn’t thinking.’

  ‘You ain’t going to turn all the dough away, are you, Tim?’ Jetkin gasped.

  Casy frowned at him. ‘You shut up, Jetkin,’ he said. ‘This ain’t anything to do with you.’

  ‘All right, boys,’ Duke said. ‘Give me those notices to quit and I’ll get ‘em fixed up. Then I’ll come out tomorrow and we’ll have another talk.’

  Casy produced a bundle of papers and Duke stuffed them into his pocket. ‘Now, there’s nothing for you to worry about. Stick tight, keep anyone from messing around and leave everything to me.’

  Casy offered his hand. ‘It’s a good thing you looked in, mister,’ he said. ‘I think you’ll get us out of this mess.’

  ‘That’s the idea,’ Duke returned, and they went down the stairs together.

  It was growing dusk and the sun was sinking behind the hills lighting up Fairview in a red glow.

  ‘You’ve got a nice view from here,’ Duke said, as he paused on the step.

  ‘That’s about all there is,’ Casy said, bitterly. ‘You kind of get used to it.’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose you would.’

  Jetkin said, ‘I’ll see you to your car, mister.’ But Casy jerked him back.

  ‘Lay off, Jetkin,’ he snarled. ‘You leave that guy’s money alone. W
e don’t take money from anyone unless we earn it.’

  ‘But, Tim,’ Jetkin pleaded, ‘the kids want shoes and the old lady ain’t had a bit of meat in six weeks.’

  ‘You shut up!’ Casy snapped. ‘Listen, if you don’t like it, get over to Bentonville and start earning money. There’s plenty of work for guys who want shoes and meat. Go out there and work for it. No one at Pinder’s End’s going to take charity.’

  Jetkin took a step back. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘But this guy is rich. He wouldn’t miss it. We could buy a lot of things with a hundred bucks.’

  Casy spat in the dust. ‘Beat it,’ he said. ‘And tell your old lady that if she wants meat, you’ll earn her some.’

  Jetkin shrugged and walked away.

  Duke listened to this in amazement. ‘Head man, huh?’ he said.

  Casy looked at him steadily. ‘Listen, mister,’ he said, ‘this place has been happy for a long time. Maybe we are living the hard way, but we don’t care. We like it. Most of us could clear out and make money in Bentonville, but we live the way we live because we like it. We don’t like strangers coming around flashing their rolls. It kinda upsets the weak ones.’

  Duke nodded. ‘A new kind of philosophy,’ he said, puzzled. ‘Okay, I’ll remember next time.’

  ‘You remember next time,’ Casy repeated, looking cautiously outside. He stepped back into the house and beckoned Duke, ‘You like that applejack, huh?’ he said, showing his strong, white teeth.

  ‘Sure, it’s great stuff. But I don’t want any more now. It’s still burning holes in my belly.’

  Casy lowered his voice. ‘I’ll sell you that jar, mister,’ he said, with a wink. ‘You just wait here.’

  He was back in a moment, carrying the jar. Duke took it from him, looked at him thoughtfully and then brought his roll out again. He selected five twenty-dollar bills and handed them over. ‘It’s expensive, ain’t it?’

  The money disappeared into Casy’s pocket. ‘But it’ll last you a long time,’ he said. ‘Besides, mister, I’m including service as well,’ and he slapped the .38 in his hip pocket.

  ‘I was forgetting that,’ Duke returned. ‘Look after the service end and I’ll do more than drink your health.’