to help you. You know that.”
I was scared of him. In spite of his smile there was something about his eyes that warned
me he was as dangerous as a rattlesnake.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
He puffed breath at me, and his diamond flashed in the sunlight coming through the open
window.
“Come on, Johnny, let’s try to get on top of this thing,” he said. “There’s Ginny to think of.
You haven’t forgotten Ginny? You can imagine how she is feeling. She wants to see you,
Johnny.”
Was there no end to this? I found myself clutching hold of the sheet again.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t want you in here. Get out!”
“You don’t remember Ginny - the girl you’re going to marry ?” He looked over at Riskin,
raising his fat shoulders. “I can’t believe that. Would you like to see her? Is that what you’d
like?”
I just lay there, staring at him while a cold wind blew through my mind.
“You two get together,” Riskin said. “I gotta go. Take it easy, boy. It’s going to work out
all right, only you’ve got to be receptive.”
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I wanted to tell him to stay. I wanted to tell him to take this fat horror out of here, but no
words came. He went off, scratching his ear and shaking his head.
There was a long pause after he had gone. The fat man puffed gently, his smile remained
fixed, and his snake’s eyes watched me.
“You get out, too,” I said.
Instead, he reached for a chair and sat down.
“Know what they call that guy on the Force ?” he asked. “They call him Foxy Riskin. He’s
made a hit with you, hasn’t he, with his ‘boy’ this and his ‘boy’ that? You think he’s trying to
help you, don’t you? Well, he isn’t. All he wants to do is to get your confidence, and when
he’s got that, when he’s softened you up and got your guard down, he’s going to slap a
murder rap on you, and he’s going to make it stick.”
I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. I turned hot, then cold.
“If it wasn’t for me,” the fat man went on, resting his pudgy hands on his fat knees and
staring at me, “you’d be in jail now. All he wants is the motive, and I could tell him that, but
I’ve kept my mouth shut because you and I are going to make a deal.”
“I won’t listen to you,” I said. “Get out of here!”
“They don’t know who she is. I could tell them, and once they know, you’re sunk,” the fat
man went on. “It doesn’t suit me for them to find out, but if it has to come out, I’ll handle it
as I handle most things.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re not my cousin! I’ve never seen you before
in my life!”
His smile widened.
“Of course I’m not your cousin, but do you want me to tell Riskin that? Do you want three
murder raps pinned on you? Isn’t one enough?”
I got hold of myself. I had to, or I’d have blown my top.
“You’re mixing me up with someone else,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m
John Farrar. I’m not Ricca, and I’m not your cousin. Now will you please get out!”
“I know you’re Farrar. You’re the guy who killed Wertharn and Reisner. Sure, I know you,
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and you killed her, too. If it hadn’t been for the gun they might have thought it was an accident, but they found the gun. It had her prints on it.”
“You know I’m Farrar?” I said, leaning forward to stare at him. “Then all this talk about me
being Ricca is a lie?”
“He thinks you’re Ricca,” the fat man said, “and so long as he thinks so I can swing it.
Once he finds out you’re Farrar, you’re done for.”
I put my head in my hands. I felt I was going crazy.
“Suppose we skip the comedy,” the fat man went on, and his smile oozed off his face like a
fish sliding off a fishmonger’s slab. “You play with me and I’ll play with you. I’ll show you
how to out-fox Riskin. With me behind you, you can beat this rap.” He thrust his head
forward: he looked like a tortoise sitting there, his hands on his knees, his head forward, his
eyes hooded. “Where’ve you hidden the money?”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t look at him. I went on holding my head in my hands. But I
was getting my second wind. I was getting the hang of this set-up.
“Now, look,” he said, “you’re in a corner, and there’s no way out for you unless you play
along with me, I can fix it. I’ll get Hame to handle it. He’ll talk to Riskin. Tell me where the
money is, and there’ll be no blowback. You can walk out of here as free as the air. What do
you say?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, and was surprised how steady my voice
was now.
He studied me.
“Use your head, Farrar. You can’t expect to get away with all that money, I tell you what
I’ll do. I’ll stake you. I’ll give you five grand, and I’ll fix Riskin. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
“If you think Riskin can pin anything on me, go ahead and let him do it. You’re mixing me
up with someone else. I don’t know anything about any money.”
“Don’t get excited,” he said, his fat fingers knees drumming on my knees. “You don’t trust
me, do you? But ask yourself: why should I bother about you? You can walk out of here and
do what you damn well like. Why should I care? She was the one who cared. I don’t. Give
me the dough and I’ll see you right. Now come on. Where is it?”
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“I don’t know,” I said. “And if I did know I wouldn’t tell you. Now get out!”
His fat face turned into a mask of snarling fury. He looked like a demon.
“You fool!” he exclaimed, and his voice shook. “Do you think I’m taken in by this loss of
memory stunt of yours? Where have you hidden it? If you don’t tell me you’ll wish you’d
never been born. Where is it?”
“Get out!”
He got control of himself. The meaningless smile came back as he stood up.
“Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it,” he said. “Suit yourself. I’ll talk to Riskin. In a
couple of hours from now you’ll be in jail. Maybe you think you can talk yourself out of one
murder rap, but I’m damned sure you won’t talk yourself out of three.”
He walked silently to the door.
“Want to change your mind?” he asked, pausing to look back at me.
“Get out!” I said.
He went out quietly the way he had come in: like a ghost without a house to haunt.
IV
Before I could even start to think what all this meant a nurse came in.
“Did you enjoy your visitor?” she asked, smiling at me. “Imagine him being your cousin.
You’re not a bit alike.”
“Cousins don’t have to be,” I said, surprised I could say anything.
“I guess that’s right. Did he leave these?” She picked up the carnations. “Aren’t they
wonderful!”
“You have them. I don’t care about flowers. I’ll be glad if you’ll take them away.”
“Well, if you really mean that. Why, thanks. I think they’re wonderful.” She picked them
up and sniffed at them. “Your cousin must have a lot of money. That diamond he was
wearing and his car!”
“Yeah, he doesn’t
starve.”
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“I’m beginning to suspect you’re someone very important.”
“Who me? I’m nobody. What gave you that idea?”
“Well, those two policemen outside. They told me they were guarding you, I guess you
must be important.”
I kept a dead pan expression, but it was an effort.
“My cousin imagines someone’s going to kidnap me. He’s nuts, but there it is. I didn’t
know about the cops. How long have they been here?”
“Oh, they’ve just arrived.”
I was beginning to get the shakes again.
“Tell me, nurse, what happened to my clothes ?”
“They’re in that closet; over there. Did you want something?”
“No, it’s okay. I just wondered. The doc said something about me leaving at the end of the
week. I just wondered what had happened to them.”
“Well, they’re right in that closet. Is there anything I can get you?”
“I guess not, thanks. I think I’ll take a nap. Those two guys made me feel tired.”
“Thanks for the flowers. They really are something.”
“You’re welcome.”
I watched her leave the room, then as soon as I was sure she had gone, I sat up.
I had to get out of here. I had to go somewhere away from Riskin and Ricca and work this
thing out for myself. The way I figured it there could be only two explanations: this was
either a case of mistaken identity or one of them or even both of them were trying to frame
me.
It was now twenty minutes past six. The nurse brought me supper at seven-fifteen sharp.
That gave me fifty minutes to dress and get out of the hospital before I was missed.
I lowered my feet to the floor and stood up. I felt weak in the legs and wobbly, but not
anything like so wobbly as I thought I was going to feel. I went over to the closet and opened
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the door. I was expecting to find the white tropical suit Brant had given me, but instead there
was a dark-blue flannel suit on a hanger, a white silk shirt, a pair of black leather shoes, and a
wide-brimmed hat on a shelf.
I stared at the clothes, knowing they weren’t mine. But that wasn’t going to stop me. If my
clothes weren’t to hand I’d take someone else’s.
I pulled on the pair of blue and white check socks I found stuck in the shoes. I put the shoes
on: they fitted me as if they were made for me. The shirt was a fit, too, and so was the suit.
It took me over ten minutes to get dressed, and I was feeling pretty bad by the time I was
through. I had to sit on the bed until my heart stopped racing. I was panting like a worn-out
horse.
I nearly forgot the hat, but that was important. I had to have something to hide the bandages
around my head. I got it on. It was right, and it made my head ache, but I had to wear it.
Then I crept over to the door, eased it open and glanced into the passage.
At the far end standing at the head of the stairs, were two cops; their backs to me. They
stood with their hands behind them, and every now and then they flexed their knees the way
cops do on the movies.
I looked to my right, but the corridor ended in big double windows. My only way out was
down the stairs, and I wouldn’t get far with those cops waiting there to stop me.
I closed the door and sneaked over to the window. Apart from being on the sixth floor, the
ground below was packed with patients sun bathing. If I tried going out that way I’d be
spotted in seconds.
While I was trying to figure a way out, I heard voices in the corridor. Creeping over to the
door I opened it a crack and peered out, ready to make a dive for the bed.
There was a nurse and a guy in a white coat out there. They were manoeuvring a wheeled
trolley into the room opposite mine.
I waited, my eyes on the clock on the overmantel. It was now ten minutes to seven. Time
was running out. I had only twenty minutes before the nurse arrived with my supper. If I were
going to get out I’d have to do something fast.
I was still at the door, trying to make up my mind what to do when the nurse and the
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attendant reappeared.
“I’ll take her down after I’ve seen the doc,” he said. “I’ve forgotten the mortician’s
certificate.”
“One of these days you’ll forget your head, not that it would be a great loss,” the nurse said
tartly, and turned away.
The attendant made a pass at her, but she anticipated it and whisked her rear out of reach.
“And if you don’t keep your paws …”
“I know. I know,” the attendant said wearily. “You’ll tell the matron. Why don’t you relax
sometime?”
The nurse walked off down the corridor, and the attendant followed her. The two cops
obligingly stood aside to let them go down the stairs.
I stood hesitating, then I eased open the door. The cops were leaning over the banisters;
probably watching the nurse out of sight. Their backs were to me.
The attendant had given me the clue, and I sneaked across the corridor, turned the handle of
the door opposite eased it open and stepped inside. I was ready to jump out of my skin, and
very nearly did when I saw a body under a sheet on the trolley.
I took hold of the corner of the sheet and lifted it. I was shaking now from head to foot. The
dead woman looked as if she were asleep. What I was about to do horrified me, but I knew if
I didn’t go through with it I wasn’t going to get away. I looked frantically around the room
for a place to hide her, but there was nowhere. Close by was another door. I opened it an inch
and peered into a luxuriously fitted bathroom.
I ran back to the trolley and wheeled it into the bathroom. Then I stripped off the sheet and
keeping my eyes averted I lifted the body and staggered with it to the bath. It was as much as
I could do to lower it into the bath, but I did it somehow. Then I pulled the shower curtains
and shoved the trolley back into the bedroom.
By that time I was all in. I flopped down on the bed. I thought I was going to pass out. I
was shaking like a leaf, and there was an awful swirling going on inside my head. I fought
against it. It went away after a moment or so. I got a grip on myself. I didn’t dare waste a
moment. I got on the trolley and covered myself with the sheet. Then I took off my hat and
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lay down, pulling the sheet over my head.
I lay there, waiting. My head was beginning to ache now, and every now and then a shiver
ran through me. I began to think I would be spotted before they even got me out of the room.
I was in two minds whether to get up and hide in the bathroom when I heard the door open.
I turned to stone, holding my breath, trying to control the hammering of my heart. The
trolley began to move. The guy pushing it was whistling under his breath. He sounded as if he
hadn’t a care in the world.
That short ride down the corridor was the worst experience I’ve ever been through. Even
lying in a fox-hole with the scream of falling bombs in my ears was nothing to this.
“What have you got there, chum?” a voice asked.
I felt my blood congeal. I knew by the voice it could only be one of the cops.”
“This is just up your street,” the attendant said. “It’s a corpse.”
“Aw, hell. Don’t you cur
e ‘em in this hospital?”
“Not often. I guess the head doc draws a commission from the undertaker. He certainly
keeps him busy.”
“What is this? A man or woman?”
“A woman. She died of peritonitis. I guess the doc left his glove in her or something. I’ve
never known a guy as absent-minded as he is.”
The cop laughed and the trolley began to move again. It bumped over a step, and then I
heard the faint swish of closing doors. A moment later I felt a downward movement and
guessed we were in an elevator.
The attendant continued to whistle under his breath. The elevator bumped to a gentle
standstill, the doors swished open and the trolley began to move again.
“Hi, Joe,” a girl’s voice said.
“Hi, sugar, how’s it coming?”
The trolley stopped.
“Who’s that?”
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“Mrs. Ennismore. Room 44,” the attendant said. “You’re looking cute this evening.”
“That’s opposite Ricca’s room, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. There’re two cops up there, keeping an eye on him.”
“There are ? I bet the matron had a fit, didn’t she ?”
“Riskin handled her. That guy’s smart. I wouldn’t want him after me. He’s got Ricca
fooled. Ricca imagines he’s getting away with this loss of memory stuff, but he isn’t. I heard
Foxy tell Doc Summers he’ll be good and ready to slap a murder charge on him tomorrow.
I’d like to see his face when they march in and pinch him.”
“Who did he murder?”
“Some dame. He must have been nuts. He nearly killed himself as well. Listen, sugar, how
about going for a ride with me in the elevator? It might break down between floors if we’re
lucky.”
“If you’re lucky, you mean.”
“Lemme get rid of this stiff and let’s try it.” The trolley began to move again. “You wait
right here, sugar. This is going to be something to put in your diary.”
The foot of the trolley bumped against swing-doors. The attendant gave it a hard push and
sent it forward to cannon against a wall.
I heard him say, “The guy who invented elevators was a public benefactor. Hop in, and I’ll
show you for why.”
Then there was silence. I lay there for a moment or so until I heard the elevator doors swish
to, then I pulled off the sheet and sat up.
Strictly for Cash Page 8
