This Way for a Shroud

by James Hadley Chase

  She shrugged and climbed up on a stool next to his.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Jack doesn’t notice it any longer, Abe.”

  He scowled.

  “Jack doesn’t appreciate the best things in life.”

  “You know he’s got that Lyle woman on board?” Dolores said, taking the icecold martini the barman gave her.

  Gollowitz stiffened.

  “I had heard. It’s no business of mine.”

  “Abe, is Jack in trouble?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. He suddenly decided…”

  “Please, Abe, tell me. You’re the only one I have now who I can trust. He is in trouble, isn’t he?”

  Gollowitz glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot.

  “He could be. We thought it wiser for him to be out of reach — for the time being.”

  “It’s because of June?”

  Gollowitz hesitated, then, nodded.

  “How will the organization react, Abe? Could this be the end of Jack?”

  “This is dangerous talk, Dolly, but since you ask me, I can only tell you I don’t know. He’s not paying much attention to the organization these past months. He has said something about making a clean break.”

  This was news to Dolores, but she was careful not to let Gollowitz see her startled surprise.

  “I know. He’s said something about that to me. Isn’t it unwise, Abe?”

  “I think so.”

  This time it was her turn to hesitate, but she knew if she didn’t seize every opportunity it might be too late when Maurer returned.

  Lowering her voice, she said, “If anything happened to Jack, you would take over, wouldn’t you?”

  Gollowitz eyed her uneasily. He was on perilous ground, but he was also aware that Dolores’s present position was still more perilous.

  “It would depend on the organization. They may have someone else in mind.”

  She shook her head.

  “That’s not likely.” She looked up suddenly, her green eyes an open invitation. “If you did take over, Abe, would you have anything for me?”

  She watched him trying to keep calm. She already knew the answer before he said, “If I took over, Dolly, you would have nothing to worry about.”

  She gave a pleased little smile.

  “I have plenty to worry about now, Abe.”

  Gollowitz nodded. He restrained himself from reaching for her hand. He was aware that several people in the bar were watching them.

  “Yes, and so have I.”

  The bell of the telephone standing on the bar rang sharply. The barman picked up the receiver, listened, said, “Yes, sir,” and replaced the receiver. He turned to Gollowitz. “Mr. Seigel’s asking for you, sir. He’s in your office. It’s urgent.”

  Gollowitz scowled. Couldn’t Seigel hold down his job for ten minutes without bothering him? he thought as he got off his stool. He’d have to go. No sense in risking trouble at the beginning of his reign.

  “That guy can’t blow his own nose without me helping him,” he said, smiling at Dolores. “Perhaps we might have lunch together in twenty minutes?”

  She shook her head.

  “Better not, Abe. Too many spies around,” She gave him a warning look. “I’m going home now.” She slid off the stool. “One of these days we’ll have lunch together. I’m looking forward to the time, Abe, when there will be no restrictions between us.” Her look was full of meaning as she smiled a good-bye.

  He watched her walk across the bar to the door, his eyes feast-ting on her, watching the slow rolling movement of her hips under the thin material of her frock as she walked, her broad, square shoulders and her long, tapering legs. He felt sick with desire for her.

  Seigel was pacing up and down when Gollowitz entered his office. His face was pale and his breath stank of whisky as he approached Gollowitz.

  “They’ve got the girl!” he said breathlessly.

  Gollowitz stiffened.

  “What do you mean? Who’s got the girl?”

  “Goddamn it! The police have got her! Those two blasted punks made a mess of it!”

  Gollowitz felt a chill run up his fat spine. Failure! The moment his hand was on the helm, the ship floundered. What would the organization think of him? This might kill his chances of ever succeeding Maurer! Cold, vicious rage seized him.

  “But Jack told you to wipe her out!” he cried shrilly. “Do you mean to tell me she isn’t wiped out?”

  Seigel backed away. He had never seen Gollowitz look like this; he looked now as dangerous and as crazy as Maurer could look when things went wrong.

  “They trapped her in a maze in the amusement park. The police must have been tipped. They arrived before they could find the little bitch. Moe was killed.”

  “Are you telling me the police have got her after what Maurer told you?” Gollowitz screamed, his fat fists clenched and his face contorted with rage and fear. “Didn’t you hear what McCann said? Goddamn it! What’s the matter with you?”

  “I warned Mr. Maurer,” Seigel snarled. “We had no time to case the joint. It blew up. She was surrounded by people. The boys couldn’t get near her. I warned him!”

  “Shut up!” Gollowitz cried. “I don’t want to listen to your weak, spineless excuses. Maurer said she was to be hit, and you’ve failed to carry out an order!”

  “Gleb and Weiner failed to carry out the order,” Seigel said, his face chalk white.

  “And you’re responsible! What are you doing about it? What the hell are you doing here, making excuses? Get after her! Wipe her out! I don’t care how you do it, but do it!”

  “The D.A.’s got her,” Seigel said. “We can’t get at her. That’s the one place we can’t get into.”

  Gollowitz struggled to control his rage and fear. He realized he wasn’t behaving as the boss. Maurer wouldn’t act this way; yelling, swearing and raving. He would have a plan ready to rectify the mistake. He pulled himself together with an effort and walked unsteadily to an arm-chair and sat down.

  “If she saw Jack at that Arnot woman’s house, we’re finished.” he said, as if talking to himself. “Everything will go. The organization will be wiped out. But did she see anything? Can we afford to gamble on what she saw or didn’t see?”

  “Of course we can’t,” Seigel said. “We’ve got to stop her talking. Maybe McCann can handle it for us.”

  Gollowitz grimaced.

  “McCann? He only thinks of himself. No. We’ve got to handle this ourselves. Where is she exactly, do you know?”

  “They took her to the D.A.’s office. She’s somewhere in the building.”

  Gollowitz thought for a long moment. Then he looked up sharply.

  “You said Gleb was killed. What happened to Weiner?”

  Seigel shrugged.

  “I don’t know. He disappeared.”

  Gollowitz felt the blood drain out of his face.

  “You don’t know?” he repeated, starting out of his chair.

  Seigel stared at him.

  “He’ll turn up. I’ll kick hell out of the punk when I do catch up with him!”

  “You goddamn fool!” Gollowitz shouted, his face twitching. “That girl will give a description of him. A blind man could find the punk with that stain on his face. The police will pick him up quick enough, and if he talks we are really sunk. Don’t you see that? All the girl needs to hang the lot of us is corroboration, and to save his skin Weiner will corroborate till he is black in the face. He got his orders from you, didn’t he? Well, they’ll slap an attempted murder charge on you if Weiner talks! And he will talk, make no mistake about that!” He waved his fat fists in the Mr. “Get after him! Find and silence him! Leave the girl to me! I’ll handle her, but get after Weiner. Put every man you’ve got after him. Go yourself!”

  Seigel stood rooted, gaping at the screaming, gesticulating figure, then he realized Gollowitz was talking sense.

  “I’ll get him!” he said, and snatched open a drawer
in his desk. He took out a .45 automatic and shoved it in his hip pocket. “I’ll get him — I’ll get him myself,” and he went out of the room at a run.

  IV

  Conrad had never seen the D.A. look so excited as he listened to Conrad’s story of the killing of Moe and the finding of Frances Coleman.

  “Where’s the girl now?” Forest asked when Conrad had completed his tale.

  “On the tenth floor, sir. Miss Fielding and a nurse are with her. Jackson and Norris are guarding the door. There are three police officers taking care of the elevator and the stairs. She’s safe enough for the time being.”

  “Was she hurt?”

  “More scared than hurt. She had a nasty cut on her arm from flying glass, but otherwise, apart from shock she’s all right.”

  Forest rubbed his hands.

  “When can you talk to her?”

  “I’m waiting for the okay from Doc. Holmes. He said as soon as she has had a rest I can see her.”

  “Fine. Now how about Weiner?”

  “I don’t know how he slipped through the cordon. There was so much excitement cornering Gleb he was unfortunately overlooked. No one seems to have noticed him. Every man on the force is hunting for him now.”

  “We’ve got to find him before Maurer’s mob does,” Forest said grimly. “If he talks, Paul, we’ve got that bunch just where we want them, and they know it. His life’s not worth a dime right now.”

  Conrad nodded.

  “We can’t do more than we’re doing now. It’s a question of time. He can’t get far with that birth-mark. The local radio station is broadcasting a description of him. They are interrupting programmes to ask for all information concerning him to be telephoned to us immediately.”

  A buzzer sounded on Forest’s desk. He picked up the interoffice phone, listened, raised his eyebrows, grunted and hung up.

  “Seems we have started something,” he said with evident satisfaction. “Maurer’s skipped. His yacht left two hours ago. He’s supposed to be on a fishing trip, destination unknown.”

  “Putting himself out of our reach for the time being,” Conrad said. “Well, if we get the evidence we want, we’ll pick him up fast enough. Looks as if we’re on the right track at last, doesn’t it, sir?”

  “If only this girl saw him!”

  “We’ll know before long.” Conrad was controlling his own impatience with an effort. “Do you want to talk to her yourself?”

  “Forest shook his head.

  “You handle it, Paul. You have a lighter touch than I have. I don’t know why it is, but I seem to scare the pants off people when I talk to them.”

  “Only if they happen to have a guilty conscience.” Conrad got to his feet. “I’ll have a written report for you by this afternoon. I may as well go upstairs and see what’s happening.”

  “Let me know as soon as they pick up Weiner.”

  “I will, sir.”

  Conrad took the elevator to the tenth floor. Jackson and Norris sat on straightbacked chairs either side of a door at the far end of the passage. Both of them nursed Thompson guns. Conrad was leaving nothing to chance. He realized Frances could be a vitally important witness, and Maurer’s mob would stop at nothing to silence her.

  “Any news yet?” he asked Jackson.

  “Doc’s just gone, sir. All quiet here.”

  Conrad rapped on the door which was opened by Madge.

  “I was just going to call you. Doc, says you can talk to her now.”

  “How is she?”

  “A bit jumpy. I don’t wonder at it. She’s had a bad time.”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s in the far room,” Madge said. “Do you want me?”

  “Not right now. If she’s ready to make a statement, I’ll call you.”

  As he was speaking the nurse came out of the inner room and nodded to him.

  “Don’t let her talk too much. She needs a good sleep.”

  “I won’t keep her long,” Conrad said, and aware his heart was beginning to beat unevenly, he walked into the inner room.

  Frances lay on a couch with a rug thrown over her. She was very pale, and her big dark eyes looked at Conrad with uneasy anxiety.

  He was aware of a sudden tightening of his throat as he looked down at her. Her face in the photograph had fascinated him, and he realized with a sense of shock that he could be in love with her. It was fantastic, of course, as he hadn’t even spoken to her as yet, but the feeling was there, and for a moment he remained still, unable to collect his thoughts or to say anything.

  She lay motionless, watching him, and he pulled himself together with an effort.

  “I expect Miss Fielding told you I wanted to talk to you,” he said, and his voice was husky. “I’m Paul Conrad, special investigator to the District Attorney’s office. How are you feeling, Miss Coleman?”

  “I — I’m all right, thank you,” she said in a small voice. “I want to go home.”

  “We’ll fix all that in a little while,” he said soothingly. “There are a few questions I want to ask you first.” He pulled up a chair and sat down near her. “I’m not going to keep you long because the nurse said you should have some sleep.”

  “I don’t want to sleep. I just want to go home.”

  “Have you any relations, Miss Coleman? Someone you would like me to get into touch with to let them know where you are?”

  He saw a scared expression jump into her eyes, and she looked quickly away from him.

  “I haven’t any relations.”

  “No one at all?”

  “No.”

  He suddenly realized that this interview might not be as straightforward as he had imagined.

  “Miss Coleman, I believe you called on Miss Arnot on the 9th, around seven o’clock.”

  Her dark eyes flickered uneasily over his face, then moved away.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Did you see Miss Arnot?”

  “Yes.”

  Conrad was aware now that the palms of his hands were moist and his heart was beginning to bang against his ribs.

  “May I ask why you wanted to see her?”

  “I — I would rather not say.” A faint flush rose to her face and she looked anxiously around the room as if she were trying to find a way of escape.

  “Well I won’t press that question. You did see Miss Arnot?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long were you with her?”

  “Oh, about five minutes. Not longer.”

  “Do you know why I am asking these questions?” Conrad said gently, his eyes on her face.

  “I — I suppose it’s because of Miss Arnot’s death.”

  “That’s right: because of her murder.”

  He saw her flinch, and bite her under-lip.

  “What did you do when you left Miss Arnot?”

  “Why, I came away.”

  “Did you walk down the drive?”

  “Yes.”

  Conrad took out his handkerchief and wiped his hands. The next question would decide Maurer’s fate.

  “While you were in the grounds of the estate, did you see anyone, apart from the guard or Miss Arnot?”

  “I—I don’t think so.”

  She was looking down at the pattern of the rug that covered her, and Conrad stared at her, a feeling of sick disappointment coming over him.

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “Yes.”

  Why didn’t she look at him? he wondered. Could she be lying?

  “Miss Coleman, this is vitally important. I want you to think carefully before you answer my next question. You know Miss Arnot has been murdered. She was killed on the 9th, a few minutes after seven o’clock: at the time you were there. We had hoped you might have seen the killer. Are you absolutely sure you didn’t see anyone except the guard and Miss Arnot?”

  There was a long pause. He noticed she was trembling under the rug and her hands had turned into small white knuckled fists.

  “Yes,” sh
e said at last.

  “You mean you didn’t see anyone?”

  “I didn’t see anyone.”

  He looked down at his hands, his mind busy. If she had looked him in the face when she said she hadn’t seen anyone he would have instantly believed her, but the fact she couldn’t meet his eyes made him doubt whether she were telling the truth.

  He studied her. She was still staring down at the rug, her hands still clenched into small tight fists.

  “Did you arrive at Miss Arnot’s place by car?” he asked quietly.

  She looked up, startled, and her eyes told him she was searching for a trap in the question.

  “I — I walked.”

  “It’s a long walk. It must be three miles from the boulevard.”

  She flushed.

  “I — I like walking.”

  “Did you see anyone as you were coming from Dead End on the sea road? Anyone in a car, Miss Coleman?”

  “No.”

  “And yet that was the way the killer had to come,” he pointed out patiently. “There is no other approach to Dead End except by that road. It’s odd, isn’t it, that you were within a quarter of an hour of Miss Arnot’s murder and yet you didn’t see anyone?”

  She didn’t say anything, but her face went whiter and she looked anxiously towards the door as if hoping someone would come in and stop his questioning.

  In spite of the growing conviction that she wasn’t telling the truth, Conrad felt sorry for her and he had to force himself to continue to badger her.

  “When you talked with Miss Arnot, did she give you any idea that she was expecting someone?” he asked.

  He could see the girl was growing tense, and her trembling increased.

  “I don’t know anything about it,” she said in a tight small voice. “Please stop asking me questions. I — I’m not feeling well. I want to go home.”

  “That’s all right, Miss Coleman,” he said and smiled. “I’m sorry to be a nuisance. You have some sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

  “But I don’t want to!” she cried fiercely. “I want to be left alone. I don’t want to go to sleep! I want to go home!”

  “I’m afraid you will have to stay here until tomorrow,” Conrad said as gently as he could. “One of the gunmen who tried to shoot you is still at large. We can’t let you go until he is caught.”