Frails Can Be So Tough

by Hank Janson

  There was dull hopelessness inside me. If Frisk wasn’t prepared to admit to the cops he’d killed Manton in self-defence as I’d suggested, he certainly wouldn’t be willing to admit it now.

  I said, wearily: ‘Okay, Frisk, let’s go.’

  His face went green. ‘No,’ he jibbered. ‘You can’t kill me. You can’t kill me. It’s murder.’

  I tugged gently on the wire. ‘You ain’t gonna die,’ I told him again. ‘Not unless you won’t do what I say.’

  He followed me downstairs. He had to. He was gibbering and moaning with terror the whole time. It was worse when I opened the door to the cellars, leading him down steep wooden stairs. But there wasn’t a thing he could do about it, not with that razor-keen circle around his neck.

  I took him to the far corner of the cellar, forced him down on his knees. He was sweating blood then, sobbing for mercy and almost grovelling. I’d fastened heavy iron shackles to his waist and ankles before he realized what was happening. I attached more heavy chains to his wrists, before releasing them from the wire. And then the final humiliation. I firmly secured another heavy chain around his neck. Only then did I loose him of the wire noose.

  He didn’t understand it. ‘What are you doing?’ he quavered. ‘What are you going to do to me?’

  I walked over to the door. He clambered to his feet, staggered across to me. He was bowed down by the weight of the chains. Every step he took caused a loud clanking. His voice was frantic. ‘You can’t do this to me. It’s inhuman. You’ve gotta let me go or I’ll go crazy.’

  I stood in the doorway, let him see the bitter smile that curled around my lips. The chains brought him up short just before he reached the doorway. He’d be just able to reach the food slid into him.

  ‘You’ve gotta let me go,’ he wailed. ‘You can’t do this to me. You must be crazy.’

  ‘It’ll give you something to think about, Frisk,’ I said grimly. ‘This is gonna be your new home. You’re gonna live here day and night, chained down the way you are now, alone and without light of any kind. You’ll have food once a day, slid into you through a gap at the bottom of the door.’ I paused meaningfully. ‘Some time tonight there isn’t going to be any more door. Because I’m going to get busy with bricks and cement, sealing up this cellar, so it becomes your tomb.’

  His eyes were wild, bulging from their sockets.

  I went on, brutally and viciously. ‘You’ll lie here in the darkness, alone and unaided, weighed down by those chains, your body becoming a mass of festering sores where the chains rub your flesh. You’ll lie here for hour after hour, thinking of all the things you’ve done, remembering every little incident in your life. You’ll lie here, mouldering and rotting in the darkness, your body cramped and dying, and all the time thinking of freedom, delicious, wonderful freedom. The desire for it will grow ever bigger in your mind, and your brain will expand and expand, constantly seeking for freedom. And then, one day …’ I paused and moistened my lips … ‘One day, your brain will expand to its utter most. With sudden lighting clarity it will burst. And then you will be free. Free from your confinement in this cellar, free from the chains and free from the mental agony. You’ll be free from this world, Frisk. You’ll be free because you will become … insane!’

  The vehemence and brutality of my words stunned him. He sagged to his knees, stared at me with bulging eyes and incomprehension. It was too much for him to take in. He couldn’t believe this was really happening to him.

  ‘I’ll be back a little later,’ I said grimly. I’ll be back to wall you in, brick by brick, until you are sealed off from the rest of the world. Sealed off so the rest of the world will not hear your maniacal moanings and jibberings.’ I paused again, breathed deeply. ‘And while I’m gone, you can think back over the past, remember all the things you’ve done that you shouldn’t. Maybe you’ll remember that my name is Lee. That I’m your step-son. And then, you’ll really understand what’s happening.’

  I switched off the light abruptly, plunged him into darkness. As I went up the stairs, I heard him begin to shriek. That suited me fine. The more he shrieked, the sooner he’d crack. I wanted to see him crazy. I wanted to see him stark raving mad, frothing at the mouth, throwing himself around like a wild animal.

  As I closed the door at the top of the stairs, it cut off the screams abruptly. That was because I’d lined the door with felt with this particular motive in mind.

  When I got upstairs, Helen’s blue eyes were watching me with an enigmatic expression the moment I entered the door. I’d been too preoccupied with Frisk to notice it before. I noticed it now.

  ‘Where’s Jessica?’ I demanded. ‘What’s happened to her?’

  ‘She skipped,’ said Helen. ‘She brightened up not long after you left, started looking around.’

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ I said. ‘She wouldn’t go. Not without …’

  ‘She found the capsules,’ said Helen. ‘She looked through the drawers, found them in that cabinet.’

  ‘That finishes it,’ I sighed. ‘I wanted to fix her so she didn’t talk.’

  She said quietly: ‘You’ve got me on a chain. I guess by now you’ve got Frisk on a chain. Did you want to have her on a chain, too? What are you going to do? Chain the whole world?’

  ‘Listen, Helen,’ I said quietly. ‘I told you Frisk was my main concern. Well, I’ve got him now. I’m gonna release you tomorrow. I’ve got it all worked out. You were unconscious when I brought you here. You don’t know where in hell you are. Tonight I’m gonna blindfold you, take you in your car to a place many miles from here. I’m gonna dump the car where it will be found in the morning, leave you tied up in the car. I’m gonna take your word for it that you won’t squawk to the cops.’

  Her eyes were tender but strangely pained. ‘Why did you wait till now?’ she pleaded. ‘You could have trusted me at the beginning. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you in any way.’

  ‘I’ve got Frisk now,’ I said grimly.

  ‘What about Manton’s daughter?’ she asked. ‘She knows where this house is. She might cause trouble.’

  ‘I’ll leave here myself tomorrow,’ I said. ‘She can tell the cops. They’ll come and find the place, search it and find it empty.’

  ‘And what about Frisk?’

  ‘I’ll leave him enough grub for a week. I’m gonna brick him in tonight. It’s unlikely the cops will carry out a search. The dame’s got nothing to gain by going to the cops.’

  ‘Listen, Lee,’ she said softly. ‘I’m glad you’re gonna let me go tonight. And there’s one more thing I’m going to say. Whatever happens. I mean … if at any time …’

  It was a loud, thunderous knock at the door. It cut through her words, caused her to glance at me sharply and caused my heart to beat more rapidly.

  ‘Perhaps it’s Jessica come back,’ she said.

  ‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘Maybe not. Let them take it out on the knocker.’

  The hammering at the door continued. I crept down the stairs, peeped out through the window by the side of the door. It was dark, but I could see the outline of a short, tubby little guy. He was raising the knocker again to start a new fusilade as I opened the door.

  ‘Ah, good evening,’ he said.

  I stared at him. ‘What d’you want?’ I growled.

  ‘I saw a light,’ he said. ‘I knew there was somebody here.’

  The light upstairs was at the back of the house. I said, suspiciously: ‘You been nosing around?’

  ‘It’s like this, fella,’ he said. ‘Just got a little car trouble. Right down the bottom here, outside your gate. Haven’t got a jack with me. Would you be a good guy and lend me a jack?’

  ‘Haven’t got a jack,’ I growled. ‘Try some other place.’ I started to close the door.

  ‘That’s tough,’ he said Then he added quickly: ‘Just a minute, mister. Don’t shut the door. What about that other car halfway down the drive? Has he got a jack?’

  ‘What other car?’ I asked.<
br />
  ‘There’s a car parked halfway up your drive,’ he said. ‘Must be friends of yours. Would they have a jack?’

  My spine began to crawl. I wondered whether Frisk’s bodyguards had been following after all, perhaps even now were waiting for Frisk to reappear.

  ‘I only want it for a moment,’ he said. ‘Just to jack up the back wheel. So if it’s okay with your friends …’

  I came out through the door, stood at the top of the steps and peered down the drive. I couldn’t see any car. I turned to the fat little guy as his arms encircled mine, clasped them a steely grip that didn’t go with his voice. At the same moment, other figures swooped out of the shadows, rough hands grasping me, torchlights shining in my face. I caught glimpse of uniforms, heard hard, authoritative voices issuing orders, and realized the strong hands grasping me were too many to resist. It was the cops. They seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Jessica was a great help. She led the way to the first floor, acting like this was the greatest moment of or life.

  They crowded me into my room, the cop chief gave one look at Helen, issued swift instructions. Before I realized what was happening, steel bracelets encircled my wrists.

  The cop chief said, grimly: ‘Get her loose.’

  One of the cops gouged his knuckles into the back of my neck. ‘Where’s the key, lady-snatcher?’

  I gulped. Everything had happened so quickly I could hardly believe it was turning out this way. ‘My trouser pocket,’ I said like I was in a dream.

  They got the key, three of them supporting Helen, while another loosened the chain around her waist. She didn’t need any supporting but, dressed the way she was, the cops were willing to give her plenty of service. And all the time, her blue eyes were staring into mine, anxious and pained.

  The cop who’d released the chain, stood up abruptly and strode over towards me. I saw the anger in his black, hate-filled eyes a fraction of a second before his knuckles smashed my lips. I’d have hit the floor if there hadn’t been all those other cops holding me up. ‘You damned swine,’ he roared. ‘Treating a dame like that!’ He drew back his arm to slam his knuckles in my face again. Helen shrieked a protest at the same time as the cop’s chief’s hard, clear voice rapped at him: ‘Cut that out, Walters. He’ll get all that’s coming to him.’

  I was dazed now. My lips were swelling rapidly. There were so many cops holding me, I felt their rough hands were bruising me all over. There was another group of cops surrounding Helen, offering her consolation, pulling sheets off the bed to drape around her, sympathising with her while they said harsh things about me. She too was acting like she was in a dream, ignoring them and staring deep into my eyes.

  It needed Jessica to draw the complete picture. She pushed through the cops to Helen. ‘I did it, honey,’ she said. ‘I did what you told me.’ She paused, took a deep breath and added eagerly: ‘When do I get the twenty-five thousand dollars reward?’

  Across an abyss of time and space, Helen’s blue eyes were looking into mine. She knew that I knew. It had been she who had told Jessica where she could find her precious dope. She’d promised Jessica a reward of twenty-five thousand dollars to bring the cops back with her.

  I didn’t care about anything any longer. It was all so hopeless. I’d tried and I’d failed. And now everything was a bigger mess than ever.

  ‘Come on,’ rasped the cop chief. ‘Let’s go. Let’s get this guy in the can.’

  ‘Just a minute, Captain,’ said Helen. Her voice was low but commanding. He turned and looked at her respectfully. Any dame with a millionaire father is entitled to respect. Her blue eyes were watching me, were still strangely tender and pained when she said, quietly:

  ‘You’d better go down to the basement. Captain. You’ll find another man chained up there. He was going to brick him in tonight.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It was knowing Helen was responsible that hurt most. For years I’d planned my revenge on Frisk. Then my moment of triumph had been snatched from me by Helen.

  I couldn’t blame her. She’d had a tough time, chained up that way. I couldn’t blame her wanting to get loose. But the irony of it was she should have turned the tables on me as I was getting ready to release her.

  Yeah, it was Helen that hurt most. Sitting in the cell with all that time on my hands enabled me to realize lots of things. I was realizing Frisk wasn’t so important after all. It was Helen dominating my thoughts. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, the way she looked curled up on the bed in her scanty underclothing, the blueness of her eyes, the intonation of her voice and the softness of her skin.

  What was worse was knowing I wasn’t likely to see her again, except in court. What happened after the trial, I didn’t want to think about. I had a kinda numbed feeling in my belly. Maybe it was as well. It stopped me feeling the futility of everything.

  I’d called in a mouthpiece. He wasn’t good, but he was the best I could afford with what was left of my savings. He came along to my cell, smartly dressed and with a brand new leather briefcase. He acted like he owned the jail, sent the warder away after he was locked in with me, sat on the bunk opposite me, settled himself comfortably and stared at me solemnly. He shook his head slowly. ‘Boy, what a jam you’re in!’

  ‘Look, Mr Shepherd,’ I said. ‘I haven’t asked you …’

  ‘Jordan’s the name,’ he said. ‘I’m your solicitor. Jordan.’

  ‘What about Shepherd?’

  ‘He’s passed the case over to me,’ he said with satisfaction.

  His attitude irritated me. ‘What the hell?’ I said. ‘I asked for Shepherd. I’m paying Shepherd. I didn’t ask you.’

  ‘Look,’ he said slowly. ‘Whoever you ask in this town, he’s gonna send me in. Get that understood.’

  ‘You telling me I can’t have what solicitor I choose?’

  He opened the briefcase, brushed away my question with a careless wave of his hand. ‘Let’s get down to facts,’ he said. ‘Get back to realities. Now, I suppose you know what you’re up against?’

  I swallowed, opened my mouth to argue. Then relaxed again. What was the good of it? It would all come to the same in the end.

  ‘I don’t know the charges,’ I said. ‘I didn’t listen.’

  ‘They’re pretty considerable,’ he said. He almost smacked his lips. ‘First, there’s the charge of killing Manton. It’s a tough one. Helen Gaskin was a witness to seeing you in the car with the murdered man. The cops have got your fingerprints now. They match up very nicely with a set of fingerprints found on an empty whisky bottle and the fingerprints on the steering wheel.

  ‘It was a frame-up,’ I said hollowly.

  ‘No doubt,’ he said cheerfully. He consulted a sheaf of papers. ‘What next? Ah, yes. You kidnapped Miss Gaskin. There doesn’t seem to be the slightest doubt about that. She was found in premises rented by you. Then there’s the question of Frisk. You kidnapped him too. An influential business man.’

  ‘He framed me,’ I said hollowly.

  He grinned. ‘The prosecution wouldn’t agree. They’d say you tried to frame Frisk. They’d say you imprisoned him, tried to extort a confession from him for a crime he didn’t commit.’

  ‘Just the same, he framed me,’ I said doggedly.

  ‘Looks like you’re in real trouble,’ he said happily. ‘Charged with murdering Manton. Charged with the kidnapping of Miss Gaskin. Charged with kidnapping Mr Manton. All capital offences, and all exacting the penalty of death if proved.’

  I glared at him. ‘Are you supposed to be my solicitor, or are you practising for a song and dance on my coffin?’

  ‘We’ll see, we’ll see,’ he said. He put his hands in his pockets, looked up at the ceiling. ‘Let’s get one thing quite clear before we go any further. Whatever you say, you’re my client and I’m defending you. So I must have full facts. Understand? Full facts. If you’re guilty or not, it’s just the same to me. I’m just out to get you off.’

  ‘You haven’t a ho
pe.’

  ‘That’s the kinda talk,’ he said, ‘that I like to hear. Now answer me this question: are you guilty of these charges or not?’

  ‘I’m not,’ I said.

  He took a pad from his briefcase, a pencil from his pocket and looked at me with grey eyes that seemed to penetrate my brain. ‘Now, just what were you doing the night Manton was killed?’ he asked.

  I hadn’t liked him at first. But his questions were so shrewd and so embracing, I grudgingly grew to respect his abilities. He was there for maybe three hours, stabbing questions at me, checking and counter-checking. Not once did he trip me up. There was a good reason for that. I had nothing to hide. I told him everything, just the way it was.

  Finally he heaved a sigh, climbed to his feet and said with satisfaction: ‘I guess that’s just about all I wanna know. Of course, it’s a hopeless case. But maybe we’ll dig out one or two things that will cheer you up.’ He grinned encouragingly. ‘I’m sending to New York for Bailey to act as your counsel.’

  I stared at him. ‘J T Bailey?’ I asked.

  He nodded, grinned expansively. ‘That’s the guy. You’ve heard of him, of course.’

  ‘But that’s crazy,’ I protested. ‘A guy like him costs dough. I’ve barely got enough to cover your expenses.’

  He winked. ‘Bailey’s a friend of mine,’ he said. ‘He’ll come.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’ll be publicity for him.’

  It was four weeks before I came up for trial. Throughout that time, I hadn’t seen anybody. Since that first interview, I’d not seen Jordan either. I’d had four weeks of lonely confinement, four weeks to sit and meditate by myself. Four weeks to realize that Frisk was sitting pretty and the chances of my getting even a life sentence were very slim.

  You can die a thousand times in four weeks that way. I died a thousand times. But every time I died, the bitterness of it was made more poignant by the knowledge I wouldn’t be seeing Helen again.

  Yeah, that was the rub. In the brief days that Helen had been my captive, something had happened to me. That dame had got deep down inside me. There was something about her that got me.