by Gil Brewer
“Go take your shower.”
The minute I heard the water running behind the closed door, I started over toward number six.
Hughes was a fine-looking old gent. He stopped me right outside the office. I tried to let him know I was in a hurry, but he wasn’t having any nonsense.
“Mr. Nichols?” I nodded and tried to brush by. “Wait. I want a word with you.”
“What is it?”
He was tall and thin and stooped a little; the scholarly stoop. He had on a gray business suit and a red bow tie and his eyes were like a busy chipmunk’s. “It come to me that you should do something about that shuffleboard court of yours, there. Now, if you like, I could get to work and clean it up just fine. We could—”
“All right, you just go right ahead and do that.” I could still hear the shower going, but it wouldn’t be for long.
“Now, there’s one thing—”
“I’m sorry. I’ve got to run.”
“Well, it’s just—” I whacked him a light one on the shoulder. He darned near collapsed, but I was already cutting across the front of the apartments.
“Teece is alive.”
She was sitting there in a chair, with a newspaper in her hand. It was shaking like crazy.
“I knew it,” she said. “I knew it.”
“I saw him. Downtown.”
“Oh, God—Noel.”
“You’d better stay inside and not go out.”
She dropped the paper on the floor and Bess had sure been right about those shorts. Then she grabbed the newspaper up and shook it at me.
“It’s in the paper about the wreck. They found the Lincoln, Nichols. Only they didn’t find anybody in it… Nichols! What in God’s name am I going to do?”
She stood up and threw the paper down. I picked it up and she pointed to the little news item.
According to the report, there’d been blood over everything. The pine trees were sprinkled with it. They’d found a smashed whiskey bottle, and that was supposed to account for the wreck. There had been no sign of any of the car’s occupants. They located a trail of blood leading up along the bank of the stream and down the road, only it stopped. They had no idea what happened but decided the person or persons involved had picked up a ride on the highway.
Vivian was breathing down my neck, trying to read it again over my shoulder, trying to thoroughly digest the bad news. Then she stepped away, flopping that thick black hair around. “You’ve got to get me out of here, Nichols.”
“Relax a minute, will you? Let me think.”
“There isn’t time to think. Noel’s after that money, now. He’s out to find me. He’ll be here. You know he’ll be here!”
“Quiet.” I remembered Bess. I had to get out of the apartment. “We can’t talk here. You just stay inside. There’s nothing to worry about. If he comes, I’ll talk with him. He may not even come.”
“Stop it!” she said. “Will you please stop it!”
“Well, we can’t talk now. If my wife spots us together and thinks anything at all, she’ll have me boot you out of here— and quick.”
She had her hands folded the way she did, praying again.
“If I didn’t move you out, she’d call the cops.”
She shook her head. “Oh, no, Nichols. I’d tell her you slept with me night before last. In that hotel. How would you like that?”
“You think she’d believe you?”
“Nichols, we’ve got to hide the money. At least you can do that much.”
She had me going. It was like my mind had shut down like a door. What she’d said about telling Bess had jarred me. Because Bess would believe it, the way things had been going. I tried to calm down inside, so I could think straight. I couldn’t do it. I was all tied up and everything was going wrong.
She’d never let me try to ditch her and back out on this now. And Teece was alive and he knew me.
I had to take the chance of Bess finding me here, so I told Vivian I’d help her hide the money. I didn’t know what good it would do. But if Teece did raise any hell, at least he wouldn’t get that money.
“You know,” she said. “It’s not just that briefcase anymore, Nichols. It’s me, now. And it’s you. Noel’s not dumb. He’s probably worked it out, what’s happened.”
We hid the money in the bureau. I took the top drawers out and wedged it in against the back of the bureau. The drawers wouldn’t close all the way, so I took some of her clothes and dribbled them over the drawer. It looked like the drawer was jammed with black lace.
“Now, I’ve got to scram.”
“Nichols, Nichols.” She got her arms around my neck and slung herself against me. “I’m scared.”
I pulled her off and checked the back way from the kitchen door. No sign of Bess. I went on outside and started toward our place. Bess stepped onto our back porch from the kitchen, and looked at me. She had on a bright-colored skirt and a peasant blouse. Her hair was brushed to a soft gold.
“Where’ve you been, Roy?”
“Just checking the paint on the rest of the place. Sure needs a paint job.”
“Wait, I think I heard a car stop out front.”
It felt as if the porch steps began to rock and heave.
“Roy, you’re pale as a ghost. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, honey. Nothing at all.”
I pushed past here on the porch. She followed me through the house and I was sweating all over. Sure enough, a car had stopped out front. It was a big black baby, a Cadillac, and the sun shot off it like a mirror. It was huge.
I stared till my eyes watered. Then a man got out and stood there a minute, staring at the motel sign. It wasn’t Teece.
“Look at that car. It’s like a hearse.”
I didn’t answer. My heart gradually began to slow down and we stood there together, watching him.
“Think he’s coming here?”
He was. He threw a cigar away, turned and started up across the grass. He was a big guy, wearing a single-breasted powder-blue suit and a light gray felt hat. I didn’t like it, the way he came at the office. His head kept going back and forth, his gaze checking.
“Could it be somebody from the bank?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, go out and meet him, Roy. He probably wants an apartment.”
“His kind don’t stay at motels.”
I went on outside and waited. He saw me and his face didn’t change expression. Then he grinned and paused by the porch steps. I came down a step.
“Roy Nichols?”
“That’s right.”
“My name’s Radan, Mr. Nichols. I’ve just come over here from Tampa. That mean anything to you?”
“No. Why?”
He pursed his lips and lifted one foot to the first step of the porch. Then he took off his hat and held it in both hands on his knee and watched me. His hair was immaculate. It was black hair and it was perfectly combed. His eyes were level and steady. There were tiny nips at the corners of his mouth and, standing there, he gave an impression of great leisure.
I heard Bess moving around inside. “Looking for a place to stay?”
He shook his head gently. “Nothing like that. Not yet, anyhow.”
“Well, what is it?”
“That’s not the question, Mr. Nichols.”
“Maybe we’d better talk inside?”
“That’s up to you. I believe perhaps it might be best that we talk alone, privately. At least, for now.”
“Oh?”
He took his foot down and lightly banged his hat against his leg. He seemed to be waiting for something.
I stepped down beside him. He edged a little toward the front lawn, looking at me with his head a shade to one side. Then we both walked out on the lawn.
“Is that your wife inside, Mr. Nichols?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I understand how
these things are, Mr. Nichols. Now, where is Vivian?”
“Vivian?”
“Yes. Vivian Rise. You know what I mean, Mr. Nichols.” He cleared his throat carefully. Unless you would rather go back inside and discuss it with your wife.”
“I don’t get you.”
“I’m sorry about this,” he said. He kept his voice low and his manner was apologetic. “But I can’t do anything about it. You see, I’ve been sent over here to clear this up. You recall Noel Teece, don’t you, Mr. Nichols?”
The screen door slammed and I heard Bess coming toward us. “Roy? Could I be of any help?”
The guy turned and jerked his head in a neat little bow. “We’ll see, Mrs. Nichols. We’ll see.”
Chapter 8
Bess smiled at this Radan. She had slash pockets in her skirt. She jammed her hands into the pockets and stood there, smiling and rocking back and forth on her heels.
Vivian might not know who Radan was. More than likely she’d never heard of him. So all she had to do was wander out here now in those shorts of hers and make things just right. I got a tight feeling at the base of my skull, as if somebody’d put a clamp on there and was screwing it tighter and tighter.
Radan cleared his throat. “You have a very nice place here.”
“Thank you. We love it, don’t we, Roy?”
“Oh, yes.”
Radan looked at me and smiled pleasantly. He banged his hat against his leg. He looked at his fingernails, and then at the apartments. He checked the roofs, glancing at Bess from the corner of his eye.
“Thinking of staying in St. Pete?” Bess said.
He frowned at her.
I glanced over at number six. There was no sign of life. But I knew she was there, behind the Venetian blinds, watching, waiting.
“Let’s see around back,” Radan said. “I’d like to have a look at your garage, Mr. Nichols.”
I started to say something and changed it fast. I didn’t want him to see the Ford with Georgia plates. If he got a look at that, there was no telling. I didn’t know exactly who he was, but I had a good enough idea. I wished to God I was out of this. But there was no way out right now.
“All right.”
“Sure,” Bess said. “We’ll show you.”
“Well—Mrs. Nichols.”
“Bess, you know—” She stared at me. I tried to give her the eye, making it look as if this guy was nuts. As if I didn’t know anything about what he wanted, one way or the other. I winked at her.
“Guess I’ll see about dinner, Roy.”
Radan nodded and Bess went back inside. We walked on across the grass toward the far side of the block, over to the edge of the apartments. “I’m afraid you’re in over your head, Mr. Nichols. I don’t think you have any idea what you’re really mixed up with. Or have you?”
I didn’t say anything.
“You understand?”
“I don’t believe so.”
He paused and got in front of me and lightly tapped the brim of his hat against my chest. Then he pursed his lips and turned and walked toward the corner of the apartments. The shuffleboard courts were just beyond, under some pines.
“Come along, Mr. Nichols.”
We went on past there. I had this one court. Hughes was on his hands and knees on a pad, scrubbing the cement with a G.I. brush. He was working with a pail of soapy water, wearing khaki shorts. He kept coughing as he worked. There was soap and water all over everything. He was really scrubbing.
“Now, Mr. Nichols,” Radan said. “You’ve got to understand that we want to know where this girl is.”
Hughes saw me. He got up, straightening like a rusty hinge, and came toward us, stooping. He waved the brush and a string of soap and water dribbled wildly. “Mr. Nichols?”
“We’d better go the other way.”
Hughes reached us. Radan sighed.
“How you like that, Mr. Nichols? Getting her really cleaned up around here.” Hughes’ eyes sparkled. He waved the brush and a long stream of soapy water sprinkled on Radan’s suit. Radan kept on smiling, brushing at it with his hat.
“I’m sorry,” Hughes said. “Excited, I guess. You can’t blame me, getting the courts all fixed up and all.”
Hughes moved closer and stood there, holding the brush so it dribbled gobs of soap on Radan’s shiny right shoe.
“I’ll have her cleaned up in a jiffy. Then I can play. We’ll get up a game, right, Mr. Nichols?”
I shook my head.
“I’m afraid not, sir,” Radan said. He walked toward the rear of the apartments, past some benches I’d put beside the shuffleboard court.
“Mr. Nichols?” Hughes called.
We kept going. At the corner of the apartments, Radan paused. He got out a handkerchief and bent down, rubbing at the soap and water on his shoe. It took all the shine off. “I don’t exactly go for this,” he said.
“Sorry.”
He straightened. “You smash your finger in the wreck, Mr. Nichols?”
“What wreck?”
“That won’t do any good. There’s no use pretending. We know all about it. Either you take action, or we take action. That’s the way it is.” He was still very apologetic.
“You haven’t made yourself clear.”
“Whether you like it or not, you’re mixed up in it now, Mr. Nichols. I don’t believe you realize that.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“Yes. You do. Don’t be foolish. We don’t like to get rough. It’s silly, this day and age. You should understand that.”
“Are you threatening me about something?”
“Mr. Nichols, for Lord’s sake! Now, look—you certainly wouldn’t want to see your place burned down, would you? Your motel, I mean. Now, would you?”
He talked very pleasantly. He was almost pleading, and very matter-of-fact about everything. Looking at him, talking with him, you would think he was some kind of a businessman. He was obviously prosperous. But there was something about him.
“We just can’t let it go on, Mr. Nichols.”
I could hear Hughes working on the cement with the scrub brush, and his dry, papery cough.
“All right,” Radan said. “I take it that I have your answer. Right?”
I still said nothing.
“All right,” he said. “You’ve had your chance. I was told to give you ten minutes, and I have. You’ve used them up, playing this all wrong. Now, where’s Vivian Rise?”
“Never heard of her.” He was beginning to make me mad, now. Damned if I’d tell him anything.
“Have you seen Noel Teece, Mr. Nichols?”
I didn’t say anything.
Radan put his hat on. He watched me levelly. “You’ve had it, Nichols.”
He turned and walked rapidly away. I started after him. He walked on past Hughes, then paused and stepped over beside the court. Hughes was on his knees, scrubbing the cement.
Hughes looked up and saw Radan and smiled and bobbed his head. Radan looked at him for a long moment, then he lifted his foot, placed it against the old man’ head and shoved. Hughes slipped down onto the soapy cement.
“Listen here!” I said, going after him. Radan paused and looked back at me, turned sharply and cut across the lawn. He reached his car. I stood in the middle of the lawn by the sign and watched him get in the car.
Radan took a last look at the motel, started the engine and made a fast rocking U-turn on the broken road. He vanished around the corner, the engine hissing.
I went over to Hughes. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s all right, Mr. Nichols. I could tell he was a sorehead when I spilled that soap on him. He didn’t hurt me. There’s all kinds in this world. Now listen—I think the court should be renumbered. Have you any white paint? I’m really good at lettering.”
“You’ll find some in the garage for number one.”
He nodded happily and I started back toward the office. I had to see Vivian again, but I didn’t know how I
was going to get to her.
This Radan was a beaut.
“Roy?”
“Yes?”
“What did he want?”
“Oh, that guy? Kind of a funny character. Says he, well— wanted to build a motel. Comes from over in Tampa. He’s been riding around looking at motels. He likes this one. Asked me a few questions, that’s all.”
“Sure peculiar.”
“I know it. Hard to figure. Wants to build a motel. He sympathized with us, being stuck the way we are, with the road not through yet. He mentioned taxes.”
“Please. Don’t even speak of them. What’ll we do, Roy? What are we going to do about money?”
“I’ll think of something.”
We were in the office and she was standing in the doorway leading to our living room. She turned and went back into the kitchen.
I wished I could think of something to send Bess out for, so I could go talk with Vivian. But there wasn’t a thing I could do. And there she was in the doorway again. When Bess looked at me, it was in that funny way that I didn’t like.
“Roy, you look sick. Honestly, I never saw you look so bad. Try not to worry about things. Everything’ll be all right. You wait and see. Hasn’t everything always worked out all right?”
“Sure.”
“Or is it just that you had a hot time up there in Chicago?”
“Nothing like it. I just got drunk, that’s all. But it was bad stuff. Maybe I can’t take it anymore.” I had to get away from her and think. Try to.
“You don’t suppose that man had anything to do with the bank?”
“No.” She was so worried, and there was nothing I could do to straighten her out about things. Not now. I wanted to and I couldn’t.
“Maybe they’ve put the place up for sale, or something. Without telling us about it.”
“Stop it, Bess!” My voice was hoarse. “They can’t do a thing like that. You know that.”
“What’s the matter with you, Roy?”
I went outside and stood on the porch and looked down across the lawn. There was no sign of Vivian. I knew that was no way to act if I wanted to keep Bess quiet. I went back inside. She was standing by the kitchen table with both hands flat on top. She didn’t look up as I came in.
