He had a one-room office and a secretary. Her name was Mavis Hart. She wasn’t pretty, but she was young, and Easton was grateful to her because she allowed him a lot of liberties which at his age he found necessary to lighten an otherwise drab existence. His home life depressed him. His wife had long ago guessed what was going on between Mavis and himself and she retaliated by nagging him continually during the brief hours he was at home. Besides being inflicted with a spiteful, jealous wife, Easton had an ulcer that gave him constant pain and that frightened him.
This day, around nine-thirty a.m. as Easton was glancing through an unimportant mail the telephone bell rang.
It came as a severe shock to Easton when Sheriff Thomson of Pittsville told him that the payroll lodged at the Pittsville bank had been stolen.
Easton listened to what the sheriff had to say, his heart contracting and the flesh of his fat face sagging.
For years now he had coasted along in a dull, uneventful routine and now, suddenly, he had a major crime on his hands and he knew the spotlight of publicity would be mercilessly focused on his inefficiency.
‘For Pete’s sake!’ he exclaimed. ‘You mean it’s gone?’ His voice was so loaded with alarm that Mavis who was pouring Easton’s two-hourly glass of milk turned quickly to stare anxiously at him. There was more talk from the sheriff, then Easton said, ‘Okay, okay. I’ll be right over,’ and he hung up.
His fat, weak face was now shining with sweat. He was aware of the frightening pain in his stomach.
‘What is it, honey?’ Mavis asked.
‘Some sonofabitch has grabbed the Pittsville payroll!’ Easton said hoarsely. ‘Three hundred thousand bucks! This is my pigeon and I’m stuck with it.’
Mavis turned pale. She knew that Easton couldn’t cope with anything out of his routine. For a moment she panicked, then she rallied to his support.
‘It’ll be all right, honey,’ she said soothingly. ‘Here drink your milk. You’ll have to call the S.A.’
‘I know what I’ve got to do,’ Easton snapped. He took the glass from her and drank half the milk. ‘What a break? Eighteen months from now I’m due to retire and this has to happen!’
Mavis was dialling the number of the special agent at San Francisco. When she got him on the line, she handed the receiver to Easton.
Easton reported the robbery, trying to keep his voice steady. He listened to the crisp, efficient voice of his Chief, then he said, ‘Yeah… yeah… sure.’ He listened some more, then went on, ‘I’ll fix it. If I need any help, I’ll let you know. Sure… yeah… Thomson will work with me. He’s a good man. I’ll get over to Pittsville right away. I’ll report as soon as I’ve got anything.’ He replaced the receiver and taking out his handkerchief, he mopped his face and looked helplessly at Mavis who smiled at him.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘It’ll work out all right, honey. You see… it’ll work out all right.’
He held out his hand helplessly and she came over to him, putting her thin arms around him, cradling his balding head against her immature breasts. They remained like that for several moments, then she gave him a gentle pat on his fat shoulder and drew away.
‘You’d better go, honey. They’ll be waiting for you.’
He straightened his crumpled jacket and smoothed his thinning hair. With an effort, he got to his feet and gave her a weak grin.
‘So long, chick,’ he said and reaching around her, he let his hand slide over her flat behind. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you. Yeah… it’ll be all right.’
Two hours later, he was sitting in Sheriff Thomson’s office. The sheriff was at his desk and Ken Travers leaned against the wall, facing Easton.
Neither the sheriff not Travers had any time for Easton. They both knew he was inefficient, but there was nothing they could do about it. A bank robbery was a Federal responsibility and Easton was automatically in charge.
Easton was suffering from the nagging pain of his ulcer. His mind was only half on the robbery. He found himself thinking: this could be cancer. These quacks tell you mere is nothing to worry about, but they haven’t got this thing in their stomachs. It could be a cancer.
‘What’s the first move?’ the sheriff asked sharply, seeing Easton’s mind was wandering. ‘We’ve got to get moving if we’re going to catch these two.’
‘Yeah, sure,’ Easton said, switching his mind with an effort from the nagging pain of his ulcer. ‘I’ll talk to the S.A. It’s his job to find the girl. We’ve got to get a description of her boy-friend.’ He levered himself out of his chair. ‘I’d better talk to Mrs. Loring and these old people.’
Sheriff Thomson glanced at Travers.
‘Do you want Ken to go along with you?’ he asked. ‘He knows everyone around here and he could make things easier for you.’ He gave a sly grin. ‘Don’t worry about offending me. If you want to work on this thing alone, just say so.’
That was the last thing Easton wanted to do. He felt unnerved by the magnitude of his task. He realised he would need all the help he could get if he wasn’t to make a fool of himself.
‘Sure,’ he said with what he hoped was a wide, genial smile. ‘You come with me, pally. We’ll work on this thing together.’
Travers straightened.
‘Glad to,’ he said and exchanged glances with the sheriff.
Easton called the S.A. He reported what had been found out so far and he gave a description of Alice Craig.
‘She was last seen wearing a mustard-coloured coat with a green collar,’ he said. ‘She wears glasses. She shouldn’t be hard to turn up.’ He then mentioned the boy-friend. ‘I’m getting a description of him as soon as I can. How about getting the girl’s description on the radio and television? That coat should be a clincher.’ He listened, grunted, then said, ‘Yeah, I’ll need all the help I can get.’ He felt a knife-stab of pain in his stomach and he winced. ‘Okay, you don’t have to tell me… I know it’s important,’ and he hung up. He looked towards Travers. ‘How’s about talking to Mrs. Loring?’
‘The State Police are making inquiries along the highway,’ the sheriff said. ‘If they turn up anything, I’ll call you at Mrs. Loring’s place.’
Easton thanked him, shook hands and then went out to where he had parked his car with Travers at his heels.
As they drove down the main street, Easton said, ‘What do you think, Ken? I can call you Ken? You call me Jimmy. I like being pally when I’m working with guys. Do you think Alice took the payroll?’
‘I guess not,’ Travers said, lighting a cigarette. ‘I’ve known her some time and she just isn’t the type for a job like this. I guess it’s going to be a lot more complicated than it looks right now.’
Easton drove onto the highway.
‘I’ve been in this racket longer than I like to remember,’ he said gloomily. ‘I’ve found it’s wrong to think of anything as complicated. I’m always running up against investigators who make things complicated by thinking they are. Now, the way I see it, the girl has been handling all this dough for years. She has probably been dreaming what she could do with such a lump sum of money if ever she owned it. Then suddenly she gets herself a boy-friend and he turns her dreams into a concrete fact. He shows her how between them they can grab the money. She has the keys, she knows about this alarm system, he has the nerve, so together they grab the money. It’s not complicated… it’s human nature.’
Travers shifted impatiently.
‘That’s too easy,’ he said. ‘She just isn’t the type to steal nor is she the type ever to have a boy-friend.’
Easton blew out his fat cheeks.
‘There you go again… making things complicated,’ he said. ‘We know she had a boy-friend. Calvin said so, didn’t he? This guy has been seen by these two old people and by Mrs. Loring. What’s the point in you saying she isn’t the type to get herself a boy-friend when we know she has one?’
‘I know… I know,’ Travers said. ‘That’s what foxes me. I am sure she isn
’t the type to have a boy-friend.’
Easton hissed through his teeth.
‘Look, you’re young,’ he said. ‘You haven’t the experience of people the way I have. There are girls who don’t look as if they know a thing. There are girls as sexless as hot-water bottles. A girl like Alice is made like other girls. She’s got sex like any other girl. When the right guy comes along, a smooth crook who knows his stuff, she could be a sucker for him.’
Travers saw some sense in this reasoning, but he wasn’t convinced. He thought of Alice Craig. She was so earnest, so dedicated to her work and so shy with men.
‘Well, let’s see what Mrs. Loring has to say. I’m still not sold on the idea.’
Easton glanced uneasily at him.
‘I’m just sounding off,’ he said. ‘I could be wrong. You’re young and smart. I need all the help I can get.’
‘How did you make out with Calvin?’ Travers asked.
Here, Easton felt he was on safe ground. He had talked with Calvin and had been impressed. He liked the guy.
‘He’s quite a man, isn’t he?’ he said enthusiastically. ‘He sure knows his job. That’s a thing I go for — a guy who really knows his job. I bet he plays a fine game of golf.’
‘He’s a scratch player,’ Travers said impatiently, ‘but what has that to do with his job?’
‘It’s tough on him to have this break,’ Easton said, shaking his head. ‘He hasn’t been in charge of the bank for more than six weeks when this girl has to spring this on him. It’s tough.’
Travers flicked his cigarette out of the window.
‘You take the second turning on the right,’ he said, ‘then it’s the third house on your right.’
Ten minutes later the two men were with Kit Loring.
What a woman! Easton thought. He compared her to Mavis Hart and the comparison made him feel old and unsure of himself. Looking at her, Easton realised how sordid and depressing his affair with Mavis was. To be in bed with a woman like Kit Loring would be a major experience. He scarcely listened to what she was saying. His attention was riveted on her slim, sensual body and her blatant breasts that offered a challenge from behind the soft grey covering of her sweater. This was a woman, he told himself. There was nothing skinny nor sordid about her. She had the structure and the flesh that he had so often thought about. She was the most exciting and desirable woman he had ever met.
Travers stayed in the background, watching and listening. He realised that Kit was slightly drunk and this shocked him. When she moved past him, he smelt the whisky on her breath. It hurt and worried him, knowing she was to be his future mother-in-law.
Kit was drunk enough to be very confident.
‘I just can’t believe Alice would do such a thing,’ she said. ‘Of course, this man must have influenced her. Although she is a nice girl, I’m afraid she has no character. She is very weak and unsure of herself.’
‘You know for a fact she did have a boy-friend?’ Easton asked, glancing at Travers with a knowing grin.
‘Why, of course. I saw him. I saw them together.’
‘When was this, Mrs. Loring?’
‘Oh, about ten days ago. I was in my room when I heard a car drive up. I looked out of the window. I saw Alice and a man get out of the car. They kissed, then Alice ran into the house and the man drove away.’
‘Did you see him well enough to give me a description?’
‘Oh, yes. He moved in front of the car’s headlights. But Major Hardy and Miss Pearson had a better view of him. I was on the top floor, but they saw him from the ground floor.’
Easton gave her an admiring smile.
‘You tell me. I’d rather have it from you. From my experience, old people aren’t reliable.’
Kit lifted her hair off her shoulders. Her firm breasts pointed at Easton who stared at them.
‘He was tall and thick-set. He had black sideboards and a moustache. He wore a fawn, belted overcoat and a wide-brimmed hat.’
‘Any idea how old he could be?’
‘Perhaps thirty… thirty-five. It’s hard to say.’
‘You haven’t ever seen him in town?’
‘Oh, no.’
‘And the car?’
‘I didn’t notice the car.’ Kit glanced at Travers. His silent presence was making her uneasy. ‘I suppose Mr. Calvin told you about Alice’s bank examination? She pretended to be working in her room, but she would sneak out to meet this man. I knew because her coat and hat was often missing.’
Easton nodded.
‘Yeah, he told me. That shows, doesn’t it?’ He again glanced at Travers. ‘She must have fallen hard for this guy. Could I see her room?’
‘Of course.’ Kit led the way upstairs. On the second floor, she paused to open a door. She stood aside. Easton, followed by Travers entered a small, impersonal room.
As Easton looked around, Kit said, ‘I have to prepare lunch, if you’ll excuse me. If you want me again, I’ll be in the kitchen.’
When she had gone, Easton blew out his cheeks.
‘Now there’s a baby I’d like to drag into my bed,’ he said enthusiastically. ‘Some chick!’
‘Think so?’ Travers said, an edge to his voice. ‘She happens to be my future mother-in-law.’
Easton’s fat face turned red.
‘Is that right? Well… what do you know!’ He looked around the room. ‘Let’s see what’s here.’
If there was one thing Easton could do competently it was to search a room. While Travers kept out of his way, Easton searched with a professional thoroughness.
He studied the half-empty wardrobe and the half-empty drawers.
‘Looks as if she took most of her clothes with her,’ he said. ‘No suitcase around.’ He pushed the bed aside and glanced behind it. ‘Hello… what have we here?’ He fished up a crumpled ball of paper and smoothed it out. ‘Look at this!’
Travers peered over his shoulder. The two men stared at the letter that contained only a few lines, but they were lines that brought both men alert.
Dear Alice,
It’s all fixed for tomorrow night. I’ve got a car. I’ll pick you up at the bottom of the road at half past one sharp. You have nothing to worry about. The only thing you have to do is to leave the back door unlocked. Watch out for C. He mustn’t spot you.
Love,
Johnny.
Apart from the scrawled signature, the letter was typewritten.
‘Well, here it is!’ Easton said triumphantly. ‘I told you, didn’t I? This is enough to put them both away for fifteen years.’
Travers took the letter from him and stared at it. So she had done it! Alice of all people!
‘Yeah… looks like a clincher,’ he said slowly and handed the letter back. ‘It beats me. I would never have believed she would have done such a thing, but… well, I guess I’m convinced now.’
Easton grinned. He folded the letter carefully and put it in his wallet.
‘When you’ve had my experience, son,’ he said genially, ‘you’ll never be surprised at anything. Let’s go talk to the old people.’
Miss Pearson and Major Hardy were waiting to be interviewed. Easton found them both irritating and tiresome. Although they agreed that Alice’s mysterious boy-friend was a big man and heavily built, Miss Pearson couldn’t agree that he had a moustache and the major was sure the man’s overcoat was dark brown and not fawn. Also the major was indignant that Easton should even suspect Alice had anything to do with the robbery.
‘My dear fellow,’ the major said, ‘you’re wasting your time suspecting Miss Craig. She would never do such a thing. I’ve known her for years. She just wouldn’t do such a thing.’
‘Yeah?’ Easton said belligerently. ‘Then where is she? How about this letter?’ And he pushed the crumpled letter under the major’s nose.
‘This doesn’t mean anything,’ the major said after reading it. ‘It could have been planted.’
Easton turned red with exasperation.
> ‘Who planted it? Did you?’
At this moment, Kit came to the door to say Easton was wanted on the telephone. It was the sheriff calling.
‘Just had a report from the State Police,’ he told Easton. ‘The gas attendant at the Caltex filling station on the Downside highway is pretty sure he saw this guy and Miss Craig around half past one last night. Do you want to talk to him.’
‘You bet I do!’ Easton said, studying Kit’s legs as she stood with her back to him looking out of the window. ‘What makes him so sure he saw her?’
‘The girl was wearing a mustard-coloured coat with a green collar,’ the sheriff said. ‘He recognised the coat. He’s seen Miss Craig from time to time.’
‘Okay, I’ll get over there right away,’ Easton said and hung up.
He went back to the room where Travers was talking to the old people.
‘Let’s go,’ he said from the doorway. ‘Something’s turned up.’
The two men went out to Easton’s car. As Easton drove on to the highway, he told Travers what he had learned from the sheriff.
‘You know, Major Hardy could be right,’ Travers said. ‘That letter could have been planted. This guy Johnny could have kidnapped the girl. The more I think about it, the more unlikely I think it is she would have done this job willingly.’
‘Oh, for Pete’s sake!’ Easton said impatiently. ‘You just said you were convinced. She fell for the guy, and she didn’t have to do anything except unlock the back entrance to the bank. That’s all. He could have persuaded her.’
‘Maybe,’ Travers said and rubbed the side of his jaw. ‘But there are a couple of points that puzzle me. Where did this guy come from? If he was meeting Alice so often how is it no one but Mrs. Loring and the old people saw him? We’ve been asking around and no one has seen him. Where did he live? And another thing if he wasn’t living here, seems odd he had a typewriter with him.’
‘What’s so odd about that? Lots of people cart a portable around with them,’ Easton said. ‘You’re trying to complicate things.’
I Would Rather Stay Poor Page 9
