Frails Can Be So Tough

by Hank Janson

  ‘Meet me tonight,’ she said. ‘And bring some more dope.’

  There was another silence. You could almost hear his thoughts whirling and planning. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Where d’you want me to meet you?’

  ‘Nine o’clock. Corner of Madison and Palm Tree Avenue. Come in your car.’

  He gave a deep sigh. ‘Okay, Jessica,’ he said. ‘I’ll be there. I’ll knock whatever crazy ideas you’ve got outta your head.’

  ‘You’ll bring the dope?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I’ll bring some.’

  ‘One other thing,’ she said quietly, meaningfully.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Come alone,’ she told him. ‘And I mean it. Come alone. Because I know exactly how you killed my father. I’ve got it all written down. I can prove it, too, and you’ll swing for it if necessary. So come alone. And if there’s anyone with you or watching you, don’t expect to meet me, because I’ll go straight to the cops.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ he demanded. But he was scared. You could tell it in his voice. ‘You gone crazy or something?’

  ‘I don’t wanna risk anything,’ she told him. ‘I don’t wanna be found dead in a ditch, taken to the morgue with a label tied to my toe.’

  This time the silence was longer. You could tell Frisk was shaken. His voice was a croak when he said: ‘Okay, then. I’ll see you. I’ll come alone.’

  ‘You’d better,’ she said, before she hung up.

  ‘That’s fine,’ I told her. ‘You did that swell.’

  She scratched the inside of her thigh, looked at me hopefully. ‘Do I get it now?’

  I looked at my watch. It was five o’clock. ‘You’ll have to wait a bit, sister,’ I told her.

  Her eyes filled with anger and there was a tinge of apprehension in them too. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked desperately, panting.

  ‘You’re my insurance,’ I said. ‘You’ve gotta stick around until we know Frisk is gonna turn up.’

  Her lips trembled. ‘You can’t keep me without it all that time.’

  I pushed past her. ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘You’ll get your dope. I’ll keep you going.’

  She was around in front of me, clutching at my arm. ‘But it’s no good like that,’ she pleaded. ‘It’s not the same. I’ve gotta have a dose, a full dose. You’ve gotta let me have it, fella, or I’ll go crazy.’

  I figured it out. A quarter of a capsule had kept her going for over an hour. If I let her have the rest of the capsule, it should keep her happy until just about nine o’clock. If Frisk didn’t keep the appointment, she’d still be hanging around, knowing I had the rest of her capsules.

  ‘I’ll do anything you say,’ she pleaded. ‘I’ll stick around if you want. But just let me have a jolt, will ya?’

  I let her have the rest of the capsule. It almost filled the hypodermic. Helen and I watched with hard eyes as she settled herself comfortably in a chair, pulled up her skirt. It was her left hip this time, and a much bigger jolt. You could see her body relaxing pleasurably as she pushed down on the plunger. ‘How about a drink, fella,’ she asked. ‘That’ll just about make it right.’

  I got her a drink. Just one wouldn’t hurt her, I figured. I took it to her. She lay back in the chair, completely relaxed like her body had turned to jelly. There was a woozy, dream-like expression on her face, her legs were ungracefully parted and the hem of her dress was still up around her waist. That dreamy look became suddenly inviting when she took the glass. ‘I feel good, fella,’ she said.

  ‘Glad you’re happy,’ I said grimly.

  She chuckled. A throaty, sexy chuckle. ‘You wanna be nice to me, huh?’ Her hand reached for mine, pulling and guiding it as she closed her eyes happily.

  I gently disengaged my hand, and she pouted. But she didn’t open her eyes. The expression of stupefied happiness on her face showed she was already entering her own private twilight world, the world of a drug addict, in which for a short span of time dreams become reality, when sensory emotions of all kinds become satisfied.

  ‘Feel sleepy?’ I asked.

  She gave a little sigh of contentment, finished her drink at one gulp, still without opening her eyes, and then let the glass drop on the carpet. She gave a little murmur of contentment, snuggled down into the armchair like she was snuggling deliciously in the arms of her lover.

  Helen said in an awed voice: ‘It takes effect quickly, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said drily. I was suddenly embarrassed, a Peeping Tom, spying on somebody’s privacy. Anger began to smoulder deep down inside me. Because Jessica was one more wrecked life that could be laid to Frisk’s account. Yeah, it was typical of him. Ingratiate himself with a nice young dame, introduce her to dope until she became an addict, and then hold up her supplies until she’d do anything to get them.

  The Jessica I saw now was a travesty of what she could have been. She’d lost her will-power, all initiative and her interest in life. Always she was scheming to escape to her narcotic twilight world. But there was still plenty of evidence she’d have been quite a dame. She had good looks, she had nice legs too. They were slender and shapely so I didn’t mind looking at them. But the way she was slumped in the chair with her legs parted widely showed that ugly rash on the inside of her thighs. I bent over her, gently pulled down the hem of her skirt.

  Her warm lips were parted, showing white, glistening teeth. She was breathing quickly, and there was a stupidly sensuous smile on her face. Her lips pouted slightly when I pulled down her skirt. She pulled it up again – brazenly! She wasn’t asleep and she wasn’t conscious. She neither knew we were there or cared. Her sensuous twilight world was all she knew or wanted, and she wouldn’t awaken from it until the effect of the drug had worn away.

  I turned away from her quickly, embarrassed by her sensuous dreaming. Helen said, reproachfully: ‘Giving it to her is helping to kill her, helping to drive her crazy.’

  ‘What could I do?’ I asked gruffly. ‘She’s needling herself every day as it is. Can you blame me for making use of it?’

  Her eyes flashed. ‘I certainly do. If you had any sense of decency, you’d have the girl taken to hospital, have her cured.’

  ‘I want Frisk,’ I said grimly. ‘I want Frisk more than I want anything else. And I’m going to get him.’ I went across the room, put the spare capsules I’d taken from Jessica in a drawer of a cabinet, and then made some coffee.

  I gave a cup to Helen. She sat cross-legged on the bed, sipped it slowly.

  ‘Cigarette?’ I asked.

  ‘I’d like one, please.’

  We smoked in silence for a while. Then she asked, abruptly: ‘You’re going to meet Frisk?’

  ‘Clever of you to figure that,’ I mocked.

  ‘Supposin’ … supposin’ there’s trouble?’

  ‘There will be,’ I said grimly.

  ‘I mean … supposin’ you get in trouble?’

  ‘That’s a risk I’ve got to take.’

  ‘But if you weren’t as clever as you thought – can’t you see what I’m trying to say, Lee? If anything should happen to you, I’ll be chained up here. Nobody will know anything about it.’

  ‘That will be tough.’

  Her blue eyes were soft and pleading. ‘Why don’t you believe me, Lee? Release me. I’ll never tell anybody about you or what I saw. Why don’t you believe me?’

  I looked at her steadily. ‘I do believe you.’

  ‘Then you’ll let me go …?’ she asked eagerly.

  I shook my head slowly. ‘I’m not taking any chances. Frisk is the guy I’m after. Once I’ve got him, I’ll take all the chances in the world.’

  Her eyes were moist. ‘Can’t you realize what hell it is for me, Lee? I’ve been here days now. It’s killing me. I can walk just a coupla paces each way and then lie on the bed. That’s all. Nothing else. It’s driving me crazy. And this chain is driving me crazy too.’

  ‘It won’t be for long,’ I said consolingly. �
��If I let you lose, you’ll take a powder the moment I take my eyes off you.’

  She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling at the chain with her fingers. ‘It’s rubbing me raw, Lee,’ she complained, ‘Look what it’s doing to me.’

  I crossed to her, prepared for any smart move she might try. The garment she wore was so fragile it had torn away beneath the rub of the chain. The skin beneath was reddened and chafed, her waist encircled by a red impression of the steel chain. ‘It’s driving me mad, Lee,’ she complained. ‘It’s always there. When I sleep at night, I have to keep changing positions because it’s hurting me. When I move around, it’s catching at me, always with me.’

  Her blue eyes were looking up into my face soulfully. It wasn’t just the ridge around her waist I was conscious of. That scanty garment enhanced the softness of her sensitive thighs, the fragile bodice only half-captured her breasts, showed white shoulders and her naked back. I was breathing heavily, suddenly very hot.

  ‘I’m sorry about this,’ I said thickly.

  Her blue eyes were looking up into mine, and she wasn’t worrying about the chain any more, wasn’t thinking about it. She was trembling the same as me, and half rose towards me when I realized what she wanted and bent over her, took her in my arms.

  Her body was quivery and excited. Her lips warmly moist and exploring. Her fingers were hot and urgent as they encircled my neck, pulled me down with her.

  There must have been quite a blaze raging, without either of us realizing it. It flared up suddenly, consumed us in a hot, breathless moment of time. So fierce was the embrace, her lips bruised mine. When she broke away with a sharp, shuddering intake of breath, I felt blood on my lips.

  She was breathing unbelievably fast. Her hot fingers on my neck were guiding my head. ‘Lee,’ she gasped, almost inaudibly. ‘Lee!’

  ‘Honey,’ I panted. ‘I never …’

  Her fingers were round my neck and were burning. ‘Lee,’ she panted. ‘Kiss me. Kiss me the way you did that first time.’

  She hadn’t forgotten it. I hadn’t forgotten it either. The memory of it had haunted me so I’d had to ruthlessly dismiss it from my mind to get to sleep at nights.

  ‘Aw, honey,’ I breathed. I kissed her. Her fingers went around my neck and were steely bands of anticipation, as detaining as the chain around her waist. She gave a long, drawn-out sigh of pleasure. There was that hot haze at the back of my brain again. She drew another deep breath like she was gonna sigh, but instead said:

  ‘This chain, Lee. It’s hurting me.’

  It was a delicate, sensitive moment. She exploded it with that attempt to exploit my emotions. I pressed my head back against her detaining fingers, stared into her eyes and said, levelly: ‘You’re not getting loose until I’m good and ready.’

  Her eyes were dreamily happy but hurt. ‘But I promise you, Lee. I won’t make any attempt to get away. I promise you that.’

  ‘That chain’s a whole lot safer than any promises,’ I said grimly.

  The hurt filled her eyes. Then, with the sudden strength of anger, she pushed me away from her, brought her knees up so she could push me away forcibly.

  ‘Get away from me,’ she snarled. ‘Why can’t you keep away from me?’

  I got up slowly, straightened my collar. She’d curled up on the bed away from me, glaring angrily as she pulled her shoulder-strap back on her arm.

  ‘Quite the Mata Hari, aren’t you?’ I sneered.

  ‘You’re a fool,’ she snapped. ‘You’re a great fool!’

  Jessica murmured loudly in her drugged sleep. She moved herself around, levered herself into a different position. What she was doing made me blush and avert my eyes from Helen. I went out to the bathroom, came back with a small pot of ointment. I tossed it to Helen. She caught it automatically. ‘What’s this for?’ she asked.

  ‘For the place where the chain’s been rubbing.’

  It was a glass pot, and I dodged just in time. It smashed to pieces against the wall immediately in line with my head.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Frisk arrived five minutes before time. I stood in a doorway, watched him pull into the kerbside. I was concealed in the doorway. I wasn’t taking any chances. I wanted to be convinced Frisk had come alone and had no bodyguards lurking at a discreet distance.

  Frisk was nervous and anxious. At five past nine, he got out of the car, peered in both directions along the intersection. If he had been expecting to meet a man, he’d have stood a chance of noticing me. As it was, he was expecting to meet Jessica. His eyes were only for dames. That enabled me to sidle close to him, shelter myself in a doorway just a few yards from his car.

  He gave up at last, shot one more furious glance up and down the intersection, hurled a cigarette on the sidewalk and ground it viciously under his heel. Then he stalked back to his car, climbed in with a ‘to-hell-with-it-all’ manner. There weren’t many folk around, but there were enough. It wasn’t exactly the place to hijack a guy. But this looked like being my only chance of getting really close to Frisk when he wasn’t with his bodyguard. I got the back door of his car open as he was reaching for the ignition key. I moved swiftly and smoothly, slamming the car door behind me and sliding along the seat until I was behind him. As he turned, his startled face stared into the muzzle of the automatic I’d bought that same afternoon in a junk shop.

  ‘Take it easy, Frisk,’ I said softly. ‘I can’t miss at this range.’

  That guy sure was yella. He went grey. His lips quivered and his face began to work. I was scared he’d spoil everything by just sheer funk, be goaded by fear into making a desperate break that no courageous man would have risked.

  ‘Face around front,’ I growled grimly. ‘Not one peep out of you, Frisk. Not one movement without I tell you. You framed me for killing Manton. If I’ve gotta die for him, I’ll die for you too.’

  He faced around front, hands on the steering-wheel.

  His hands were trembling like he had the ague. I was right behind him. Just to remind him, I pressed the cold tip of the gun on the back of his neck. His hair prickled and his skin crawled.

  ‘Get yourself under control,’ I instructed. ‘And start driving.’

  For the first hundred yards, he drove like a learner. Then, as he was compelled to concentrate on his driving, it helped to steady his nerves. He obeyed my instructions implicitly, crossed the city towards the highroad that led to my house. From time to time, I glanced behind. It didn’t look like I was being followed. When we reached the outskirts of town and the street lights began to drop behind us, leaving only the open road and darkness, he managed better to control of himself.

  ‘I can get you out of this,’ he promised hoarsely. ‘I’ve got dough, plenty of dough. You don’t have to kill me. You can have all the dough you want. You can take a powder. I’ll pay off the cops so they forget about it.’

  ‘You could have done that before ‘

  ‘I was crazy,’ he pleaded. ‘I didn’t know what I was doing. I was scared what might happen to me.’

  ‘I’m still scared,’ I said grimly.

  Three or four miles outta town, I made him pull off the main road onto the grass verge where I’d parked my own car. When he pulled up, he was trembling all over. I could tell he thought this was where he was going to get it. I cut across his new burst of pleading.

  ‘Cut it out, Frisk,’ I rasped. ‘I ain’t going to kill you. You’re going to be my insurance against being hung.’

  ‘I don’t want to die,’ he choked. ‘I’ll do anything you want – anything!’

  ‘Just lean forward and put your hands behind your back,’ I instructed. ‘That’s all I want for the moment.’

  I’d brought lengths of thin wire with me. I secured his wrists behind his back, content in the knowledge he couldn’t even struggle without cutting himself badly. Another length of thin wire I formed into a noose, slipped it quickly over his head and drew it tight enough to be painful. He became rigid all over, like he though
t just breathing might cause that wire to bite deeply and kill.

  ‘Don’t get scared,’ I growled. ‘There’s more to it than just killing you. You ain’t gonna die for a long while … yet!’

  We changed over, got into my car. He came reluctantly but obediently. I drove with one hand, the length of thin wire in my other. He was completely at my mercy. If he made just one wrong move, I had only to tug on that wire. A real hard pull would sever his jugular vein in the same way wire cuts through cheese.

  When we reached my house, he was so scared that his legs were rubbery. He stumbled up the steps. I opened up, took him up the stairs to my room. There was a long moment of pregnant silence while Helen stared at him wide-eyed. He stared back at her. His white tongue tried to moisten his colourless lips. ‘Don’t let him kill me,’ he pleaded desperately. ‘Don’t let him kill me.’

  ‘I told you,’ I growled. ‘You ain’t gonna die … yet! But you can start in talking. Tell this dame how you killed Manton. Tell her how you tried to frame it on me.’

  He was a pathetic figure, all the confidence and bounce gone out of him. He was ready to sink to his knees. But fear of death, from whichever direction it might come, was strong within him. He looked at me furtively, looked at the girl. ‘It’s a trap,’ he said. ‘He’s trying to force me to make a confession. I didn’t kill Manton. He killed him.’

  Overwhelming anger and fury consumed me. For one blind second, I was fighting the temptation to throw my full weight back so that the thin wire became a razor, shearing halfway through his neck. When the red rage subsided and I realized that I had won the battle, I was sweating, trembling.

  Helen said: ‘It’s true what he says. You can’t extort a confession from him. It doesn’t mean a thing in a court of law.’

  I brushed the back of my hand across my forehead. ‘I wanted you to know,’ I said. ‘I wanted you to understand the way it was.’

  ‘I believe you, Lee,’ she said simply.

  Frisk said, desperately: ‘He’s trying to frame me. He killed Manton. He’s trying to save himself.’