‘Why did he write that letter? Why couldn’t he have telephoned or seen her the day before the robbery? There’s something odd about that letter. It could be a plant.’
‘You’ve been reading detective stories,’ Easton growled. ‘You let me handle this.’
Travers shrugged and lapsed into silence. After a ten-minute drive they arrived at the Caltex filling station where a State Trooper was talking to Joe Hirsch, the gas attendant.
Hirsch, a young alert-looking man, said around one-thirty the previous night, a Lincoln had pulled in for gas. He couldn’t be absolutely sure of the time as his watch was on the blink, but it was near enough.
‘A man was driving and a woman in a mustard-coloured coat with a green collar was sitting in the passenger’s seat,’ he told Easton. ‘She had on a big floppy hat. I couldn’t see her face, but she wore spectacles. She took them off and wiped them with her handkerchief. The man was tall, heavily-built and he had black sideboards and a moustache. He wore a fawn, belted over-coat and a slouch hat. While I was filling the tank, he leaned into the car and got talking with the woman about the time of the last train to ’Frisco. She said they had missed it, but he said there was one at two a.m. and they could still make it. I happen to know he was right and joined in. I told him he could still make it if he hurried.’
Easton beamed on him.
‘Would you recognise this guy again if you saw him?’
Hirsch nodded.
‘Any time.’
‘And the girl?’
‘I’m pretty sure she was Miss Craig,’ Hirsch said. ‘I’ve seen her plenty of times in that coat’ He grinned. ‘It’s a coat you don’t forget in a hurry.’
‘How about the car?’
‘It was a 1959 Lincoln: a grey job with a red top.’
‘Did you notice if they had any luggage?’ Travers asked.
‘Yeah. There were two blue suitcases on the back seat.’
‘When this guy talked to the girl,’ Easton said, ‘how did he sound: friendly?’
‘He just sounded ordinary,’ Hirsch looked puzzled. ‘Just like he was holding an ordinary conversation.’
‘He didn’t sound threatening?’
‘No… nothing like that.’
‘How did she react?’
‘She didn’t say much. I heard her say they had missed the train. The guy laughed. ‘You’re wrong, honey,’ he said. ‘We’ve got half an hour. What are you worrying about?’ Just an ordinary conversation.’
Easton glanced at Travers.
‘Doesn’t sound as if she was being kidnapped, does it?’ he said and winked, then turning to Hirsch asked if he could use his telephone.
Hirsch took him into the small office. Easton called the special agent. He gave him the description of Alice’s boy-friend and of the car. The special agent said he would get both descriptions on the eight o’clock local broadcast and on the local television service. Easton said he was going to Downside railroad station to check further. He felt pretty pleased with himself when the S.A. said he was doing all right, even though there was a surprised note in his chief’s voice.
He went out and got into the car with Travers and they drove fast to the Downside railroad station. Travers was silent. From time to time Easton glanced at him with a sly grin, but he didn’t say anything.
Finally Travers said, ‘This guy certainly is leaving a broad trail behind him.’
‘What does that mean?’ Easton asked. ‘More complications?’
‘Well, let’s look at it. He plans to knock off one of the biggest payrolls in the district. He knows that to do that with any safety he has got to keep out of sight, got to avoid anyone getting a description of him or else the moment he tries to spend the money he’ll get nabbed. So what does he do? He picks on Alice, somehow makes her fall in love with him — how he ever did that, beats me, but it looks as if that was what he managed to do. Then he is dumb enough to take her back to the rooming-house so three witnesses get a good look at him. He isn’t content to remain in the car: he gets out and stands in the light of the car’s headlights so he can be seen. Then he writes a letter to the girl when he could have telephoned or even seen her. He then stops for gas and has a conversation about the last train out to ’Frisco. Again he lets Hirsch get a good look at him. See what I mean? For someone with enough ambition to steal three hundred thousand dollars, he doesn’t seem to me to be a major mind.’
‘Who said he was a major mind?’ Easton asked irritably. ‘It’s because the average crook is a born dope that he gets caught.’
‘I’m not so sure this guy is a dope,’ Travers said. ‘Those sideboards and the moustache could be a good disguise. It’s my bet he wanted to be seen so we’d get a wrong description of him. We’re looking for a man with sideboards. If he takes them off, we haven’t a description of him at all.’
‘Maybe,’ Easton said, a little startled, ‘but we have a description of the girl. Where she is, he is.’
‘I’m worrying about her,’ Travers said soberly.
‘What does that mean?’
‘I don’t know… but I’m worrying just the same.’
Easton shrugged his fat shoulders and drove on in silence.
When they reached the railroad station, Easton spent some time talking to the staff. Both the ticket officer and the ticket puncher were sure no one had boarded the two a.m. train to San Francisco. Nor had they seen anyone resembling Johnny nor any woman in a mustard-coloured coat.
Realising that the trail that had appeared so hot was now cold, Easton walked dejectedly back to his car.
‘So they didn’t take the train to ’Frisco,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to get to a telephone. I must talk to the S.A.’
‘There’s a booth across the way,’ Travers said and got into the car. He watched Easton plod across the road and shut himself in the booth. After a while he finished talking with the S.A. and joined Travers.
‘I guess we’d better go back to Pittsville and wait for something to break after the broadcast,’ he said. ‘The S.A. is sending a bunch of boys to take the town apart. We’ve got to get a lead on this Johnny. It’ll mean a house-to-house check.’
Travers didn’t say anything.
They drove back to Pittsville.
2
Calvin was glad to close the bank for the lunch recess. Single-handed, he had had a very busy morning. The news of the robbery had brought many people to the bank ostensibly to cash small cheques but really to get first-hand information from Calvin.
When he had finally persuaded the last customer to leave, and after he had locked the doors, he went into his office and lit a cigarette. Everything was working out the way he planned, but for all that, he was uneasy. He was worried about Kit. He hadn’t seen her since the previous night and he was wondering how she was reacting. He was sure by now that Easton had talked with her. Although he was tempted to telephone her to find out what had taken place, he resisted the impulse. Any moment now, the auditors from head office would be arriving to make a complete bank audit. Calvin had been asked if he couldn’t find some local girl to take Alice’s place as there was no one at head office who could be spared. This had given Calvin an idea. He reached for the telephone and called the rooming-house. Flo answered.
‘Is Miss Iris in?’ Calvin asked. ‘Could I speak to her?’
Flo said Iris was just about to go out, but to hold on. A moment later Iris’s young, fresh voice came over the line.
‘Hello there,’ Calvin said. ‘If you’re passing the bank, could you look in? There’s something I want to talk to you about.’
‘I’ll be passing in about half an hour,’ Iris said, her voice revealing her surprise. ‘What is it?’
‘Something I’d rather not talk about over the telephone,’ Calvin returned, and he hung up.
When he had broken the connection he called the snack-bar across the road and told them to send over a couple of chicken sandwiches. Then getting to his feet, he went down into the vault.
He stood looking at the deed box in which he had hidden the money. The box stood on the floor with some twenty other boxes on top of it. Calvin’s fleshy face lit up as he thought of the money in the box and he longed to open the box and finger the neat packets of money, but he resisted the impulse.
He left the vault and hearing a rapping on the bank door, he opened up and took the sandwiches from the boy the snack-bar had sent over. He tipped the boy, relocked the bank door and returned to his office. He began to eat the sandwiches.
As he was about to start on the second sandwich, he heard rapping on the bank door again and he opened it.
Iris looked inquiringly at him. She was wearing a sports shirt and a pleated white skirt. Calvin felt a sudden stab of desire run through him as his eyes took in her young, well-developed body.
‘Come on in,’ he said, his smile wide and charming. ‘What a morning I’ve had! I’m just snatching lunch. Phew! Everyone’s been in making sure they haven’t lost their money!’
Iris walked past him into the bank and turned to watch him shut and lock the door.
‘You must have had a time,’ she said sympathetically. ‘I’ve been listening to the radio nearly all the morning.’
Calvin led the way into his office.
‘Yes… it’s been pretty rugged.’ He waved her to the visitor’s chair and then going around his desk, he sat down. ‘Alice of all people! I don’t know… It’s a shock.’
Iris stiffened.
‘You don’t really believe she took the money, do you?’
‘Well, she’s gone and the money’s gone.’
‘I was talking to Ken on the telephone this morning. He thinks she was forced to do it and has been kidnapped.’
This news startled Calvin.
‘That’s an angle I hadn’t thought of… could be he’s right. It makes sense. Alice just isn’t the type to steal. Did he say what was happening?’
‘They are making a house-to-house check to try to find this man or at least where he stayed when he was seeing Alice. They’re hunting for Alice, too, of course.’
Calvin picked up the half-eaten sandwich and bit into it.
‘There’s something I want to talk to you about,’ he said. ‘I’m now short of an assistant. I must have someone here to help me. Head Office has told me to find local talent.’ He smiled at her, watching her intently. ‘I thought of you. Would you be interested to work here? The pay isn’t bad… seventy-five a week.’
She looked surprised.
‘But I don’t know a thing about banking.’
‘You don’t have to. There’s some typing to do and the rest you can easily pick up.’ He wiped his fingers on his handkerchief, watching her. ‘I’d like my future daughter-in-law to work with me. I wish you would. There’s no future in working for a movie house. What do you say?’
She hesitated.
‘I’ve been working night shifts so I could see Ken,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how he will react.’
‘He’s going to be busy on this robbery,’ Calvin said. ‘Besides, it isn’t good to work at night. Come on, let me persuade you.’
She suddenly smiled.
‘Yes, all right. I’d like to.’
Calvin nodded, pleased.
‘Fine. Look, I’m under pressure. Do you think you could start tomorrow? If you have to lose your salary at the movie house, the bank will make it up to you.’
‘Yes… all right, I’ll start tomorrow.’
He got to his feet.
‘I have the auditors coming and I must be ready for them. We’ll make a start tomorrow. I’ll drive you in as I used to drive poor Alice.’
They walked to the door together.
‘Kit all right?’ Calvin asked as he unlocked the bank door. ‘I didn’t see her this morning.’
‘I haven’t either,’ Iris said, her face clouding. ‘She worries me. She seems to be avoiding me. I haven’t seen her to talk to more than three or four times during the past week.’
‘You mustn’t worry about her,’ Calvin said. ‘She’s all right. I see her every evening. I think she’s a little unsettled about getting married again. It’s understandable.’ He paused, then went on, ‘I can imagine what you are thinking. You’re worried about her drinking. Well, I’ve talked to her. She admitted she had started again, but she’s promised to stop. It’ll be all right. I’m going to look after her.’
‘That’s a relief!’ Iris said. ‘I certainly was worrying about that.’
‘Well, don’t. I’ve got all that taken care of. Now I must get back to work. I look forward to working with you tomorrow.’ He gave her his charming smile and then closed the bank door after her.
He walked heavy-footed back to his office. He picked up the telephone receiver and dialled the number of the rooming-house. When Flo came on the line, he asked if he could speak to Kit.
Flo sounded worried.
‘Miss Kit ain’t down yet, Mr. Calvin, sir,’ she said. ‘I’ve been up to her room, but she says I’m not to disturb her. Should I go up again?’
‘No… leave it,’ Calvin said. ‘You carry on, Flo. I expect she’s upset about Miss Alice,’ and he hung up.
His fleshy face twisted with rage.
She was drunk again. He would have to get rid of her. The sooner the better. She was dangerous.
Yes, he would have to get rid of her.
CHAPTER TWO
1
Easton, Sheriff Thomson and Travers sat in the sheriff’s office. The time was twenty minutes past eight p.m. Easton was sipping a glass of milk. The sheriff and Travers were drinking beer. They had listened to the eight o’clock broadcast, giving a description of Johnny and of the Lincoln car.
The sudden sound of the telephone bell brought the three men alert.
‘Here we go,’ the sheriff said and reached for the telephone. He listened to a man’s voice that came over the line.
‘Okay, Mr. Oakes,’ he said. ‘Sure, I’ve got it. We’ll be right over if you’ll wait for us. Yeah… say in thirty minutes.’ He hung up and looked at Easton, ‘Oakes of Triumph Car Mart at Downside. He’s pretty sure he sold the Lincoln to our friend.’
Easton finished his milk and stood up.
‘You stick here, sheriff, in case any more leads come in. Ken and me will go see this guy.’
Thirty minutes later, Easton and Travers walked into the brightly lit car mart.
Seeing them come, Fred Oakes, a fat, elderly man, hurried towards them.
After introductions, he said, ‘This fella matched the description I heard on the radio. He was tall, heavily built and he had black sideboards and a moustache. He wore a belted, fawn-coloured coat.’
‘Just when did you see him, Mr. Oakes?’ Easton asked.
‘I’ve got the exact date and the time,’ Oakes said. ‘I have it all right here for you, together with the fella’s address.’ He gave Easton a copy of the sale receipt of the Lincoln, bearing an address.
Easton scratched the side of his neck as he stared at the address.
‘Johnny Acres, 12477, California Drive, Los Angeles,’ he intoned. ‘Probably phoney. Anyway, I’ll check.’ He looked at Oakes, ‘Could you identify this man again?’
Fred Oakes nodded. Although his feet ached and he was tired, he was enjoying being questioned. He knew for sure he would see his name in the papers the following day: maybe, even a photograph.
‘I’d know him anywhere.’
‘Was he alone?’
‘Yes.’
‘How did he pay?’
‘In cash. He gave me sixty ten-dollar bills.’
‘Any chance of examining the bills?’
Oakes shook his head.
‘We do most of our business in cash. The money’s been banked days ago.’
Travers asked, ‘Mr. Oakes, how did you react to this man — as a man? Did you like him?’
Oakes was quick to understand what Travers meant.
‘I couldn’t say I took to him. I didn’t pay much atten
tion to him, but I got the impression he wasn’t the sort of guy you’d pick for a friend. I can’t say why. There was something about him… then he had this habit of humming under his breath. It irritated me.’
Travers became alert.
‘Humming under his breath?’
‘That’s right. Whenever I was talking to him, he started this low humming sound… sort of an unconscious habit I guess.’
Easton said impatiently, ‘Never mind that stuff, let’s have the details of the car. I want the licence number, the engine number and the make of tyres.’
Oakes supplied the information and Easton jotted it down. Then shaking Oakes’s hand, Easton got back into his car.
‘Well, here’s something for the S.A. to work on,’ he said as Travers joined him. ‘We should be able to pick up the car pretty fast. I’m going back to the office. What do you want to do?’
‘Drop me off at the station,’ Travers said. ‘I’ll take a train back.’
As Easton headed for the station, he said, ‘We’ve got to find out where this guy kept the Lincoln. He bought it nearly a month ago. He must have kept it somewhere. I’ll have the S.A. put out another broadcast.’
‘He could have left it in one of the big parking lots at Downside,’ Travers said. ‘No one would notice it. The parking lot by the railroad station has cars on it night and day. He could have left it there.’
‘Yeah, I guess that’s right.’
‘You’ll tell the S.A. about this guy’s habit of humming under his breath? He might be on record,’ Travers said. ‘The sideboards and the moustache can be removed, but when you have an unconscious habit like that, you don’t lose it.’
‘I’ll tell him,’ Easton said grudgingly, ‘but I don’t reckon somehow he’s an old-timer.’
He pulled up outside the station.
‘See you tomorrow,’ Travers said, getting out. ‘Will you be over?’
‘I guess so,’ Easton returned and with a wave of his hand, he started the car.
‘Hey! Wait!’ Travers yelled.
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