He dragged Goshawk further on to the bed and covered him with a blanket. Anyone looking in the room would think that Raven was there, sleeping. He covered the head with a pillow and then he paused to light a cigarette. He glanced at the clock. It was twenty past nine. All was working satisfactorily. As he turned to the door his eye alighted on the wall calendar.
FRIDAY, 13th SEPTEMBER
made him pause.
“My lucky day,” he said with a forced laugh, and went out, locking the door and removing the key.
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He met no one as he went downstairs. He let himself out the back way and at the end of the alley he found the big Chrysler waiting for him. He climbed in and started the engine. He could hardly believe that he was off, that he had a fast car under him, and that in a few hours St. Louis would be a long way behind.
He drove round the block once, and as the hands of a street clock moved to the half−hour, he drew up outside Marie Leroy's apartment house.
She was standing in the hallway waiting, and as he drew up she picked up two handbags and ran down the steps. He made no effort to get out. From where he sat he could see people peering round curtains all down the street. He wasn't going to let them give his description to the cops if anyone got suspicious.
“Can you manage?” he called. “The bags can go in the boot behind. It's quite easy to open. My engine's cold. I've got to nurse her along for a minute.”
“That's all right,” she said, and he felt two thuds as the bags were dumped in the back. Leaning over, he opened the off−door and she got in. She wore the same red−and−white−spotted dress, and as she sat down the skirt rode up. Her long tapering legs sent a little shiver through him. She pulled her skirt down and laughed nervously. “Some car,” she said.
“Like it?” He engaged the gears. “We've got a mighty long way to go. I've been sleepin' all the afternoon an' I want to get as far as I can tonight.”
She relaxed back against the upholstered seat. “I like driving at night. When you get tired may I drive?”
He looked at her. “Can you?”
“Of course.”
This was something he hadn't thought of. If they took it in turns to sleep and drive they'd halve the time.
“That's fine,” he said, and meant it.
He drove steadily, keeping to an even forty miles an hour. He had no wish to get an excited speed cop on his trail. Goshawk had given him forged licence papers, but even with those he wasn't going to take chances.
As they neared the outskirts of the town Marie said, “Look, there's a barricade ahead. How exciting! You'll have to stop.”
Raven eased the gun loose in its shoulder−holster and stopped the car a few feet from the swinging red light.
Three State troopers came up to the car. Two of them carried Thompsons.
Raven felt his mouth go dry, but he kept his head.
Marie leant out of the window. “What is it?” she asked.
They played a powerful light on her and then turned it on Raven, who had quickly removed his hat.
“What's the trouble, officer?” he asked. “I wasn't goin' too fast, was I?”
“Let's have a look at your papers, buddy,” the State trooper said, resting his foot on the running−board.
Raven noticed that the other two troopers had relaxed and were no longer pointing their guns at him.
He produced his papers. “Here you are,” he said.
Marie seemed to be getting on well with the other two troopers. Raven couldn't hear what she was saying as she was leaning out of the window, but one of the troopers laughed suddenly and he heard her laugh too.
Hardly glancing at the licence papers, the trooper returned them. “Your wife, I guess?” he asked.
Raven nodded.
“Okay, bud, on your way.”
Raven engaged his gears and the car slid past the barricade. A sudden thought had struck him. He'd got to be damn careful with this girl. What a fool he'd been not to have remembered!
She said excitedly, “They're looking for Public Enemy No. 1. A man called Raven. He's supposed to be hiding in the town. Isn't it exciting?”
“Yeah,” he said, with a little grin, “but I've got some news for you that'll startle you. I was crazy to have brought you, sister.”
Her eyes opened. “Why?”
He continued to drive. “Ever heard of the Mann Act?”
“Why, yes? What's that got to do with it?”
“Plenty. It's an offence to take any dame but your wife over a State line. There's a twenty−years rap hanging to it.”
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Marie's eyes opened. “Butbut they let us through.”
Raven's mouth twitched. “YeahI told 'em you were my wife. The car, the clothes and the general set−up passed us.”
There was a long pause. Then Raven said, “Unless you agree to bein' my wife on this trip, we'd better turn round.”
Marie stared straight in front of her. Then she said bitterly, “I might have guessed I'd have to pay one way or another for a trip like this.”
Raven put his foot on the brake and the car came to a standstill. “Say the word, sister, and back we go.”
She looked at him and shook her head. “It's okay. I dare say it won't kill me,” she said, and settled once more comfortably.
Raven sent the car shooting forward. He knew it was in the bag now.
Neither of them spoke for some time. The Chrysler tore through the night, ripping miles off the State Highway. As the hands of the dashboard clock crept on the night grew colder. Both of them began to feel stiff and chilly.
Raven said, “Just ahead is Williamsburg. I guess we'll stop there for a drink.”
Marie rubbed her bare arms. “I'll get a coat out when we get there,” she said.
In ten minutes they reached the town and Raven stopped the car outside a small all−wood hotel. He went round to the boot and helped her get out a light dust−coat. He also took out a rug.
They went into the hotel together. The clock was just striking a quarter to twelve. They went into a deserted lobby and ordered coffee and rum from a startled negro waiter.
“Tired?” Raven asked, as they sipped the steaming coffee.
She shook her head. “We'll go on.” She was very decided about it. Raven grinned to himself.
They got up to go when they had finished. She said, “Shall I drive?”
He nodded. “Sure, if you want to. We'll go on to Columbia, then maybe we'll get some sleep.”
She bit her lip. “Couldn't you sleep now? Then we could drive all the time.”
“So we could,” he said. “You're sure in a hurry to get there, ain't you?”
And he followed her out to the car.
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19
September 14th, 11.10 a.m.
HOGARTY SAID, “Think it's Raven?”
Jay and he stared down at the battered Goshawk. Two cops who stood in the room watched them with bored eyes. They never had much use for Federal Agents.
Jay shrugged. “It might be.”
“Let's go over the ground again,” Hogarty said, turning from the bed. “The girl downstairs says that the guy who had this room never went out. Goshawk always took up his meals. No one else in the hotel ever saw him. That points to Raven, don't it?”
Again Jay shrugged. “Maybe,” he said.
“Then the girl over the way. How does she fit in?”
“Suppose we talk to the kid again?”
They went downstairs, where a round−eyed maid stood waiting. Hogarty jerked his head. “Come inside here, sister, an' let's go through with it again. Your name's Alice Cohen, ain't it?”
The girl nodded.
“Your boss sent you across to the apartment house opposite to ask after a certain Marie Leroyright?”
Again she nodded.
“Well,
go on.”
“He wanted to find out who she was. The landlady told me. She was a dancer who wanted to go to Hollywood.”
“Why should this guy Goshawk want to know that?”
“I don't know. He didn't say.”
“You never saw the guy who had that room?”
“No, but Mr. Goshawk sent me out for some tinted spectacles and a bottle of hair bleach. He didn't use them himself. I got to thinking they were for this fella who had the room.”
Hogarty and Jay exchanged glances.
“I see,” Hogarty said. “Anythin' else.”
“I heard Mr. Goshawk arrange about buying a Chrysler car. I was surprised, because Mr. Goshawk was always tight with his dough. I thought he was steppin' out a bit.”
“All right, baby, you're doin' fine.” Hogarty was excited. “I'll talk to you again in a while. Just stick around.”
When she had gone he turned to Jay excitedly. “It looks like it. The troopers at the west barricade report that a blond guy with his wife passed through in a two−seater Chrysler.” He checked himself from a note−book. “They say the girl was wearing a red dress with pinhead white spots. Let's go over an' find out if that's the dress this Leroy dame was wearing. If it is, we'll get after them. They're heading for Hollywood by the U.S. Highway 40.”
Jay followed him out of the hotel.
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20
September 14th, 11.50 p.m.
RAVEN said, “We'll stop at Odessa for the night.”
Marie clenched her fists, but said nothing. The continuous driving had unnerved both of them, and Raven had lost patience. He wasn't going to drive like this day and night, with her sitting at his side. What the hell did she think? She wasn't just goin' to sit around all day and all night, letting him take her free of expense all the way to Hollywood. It was time she paid for her trip.
“It's a tough little town,” he said, “but it'll do for the night. We'll stop again at Kansas City. You'll like that.”
She said, “It'll take us weeks to get to Hollywood.”
“Not after tonight it won't,” he said with a little grin. “Time'll go fast enough after tonight.”
She looked at him uneasily, but said nothing. A few minutes later they drove into Odessa.
Raven stopped at a petrol station and had his tank filled. He asked where a hotel was, and then drove in the direction indicated.
As they got out of the car he said, “Mr. and Mrs. Young, baby, an' don't forget it.”
She walked into the lobby without answering. A negro came out at a run and took their bags. Raven went over and signed the register. The clerk blotted the ink, looked at the name, gave a little start, and glanced up at Raven searchingly.
“Anythin' wrong?” Raven asked, his eyes suddenly going hard.
The clerk shook his head. “Quite okay, sir,” he said. “You've omitted to say where you've come from.”
Raven took up the pen and scribbled “Jefferson City", then he turned away.
“A double room?” the clerk asked.
Marie stiffened.
“Sure,” Raven said, smiling at her. “An' a double bed.”
There was no elevator, and they followed the negro up two flights of stairs.
“These hick hotels give me a pain,” Raven said.
Marie found she couldn't answer him. Her heart was beating wildly, and she felt a little sick.
They went into a large, shabbily furnished room. The big iron double bed took up a lot of room. When the negro got his tip he left them with a broad grin.
Raven took off his hat and dust−coat and yawned. “How do you like it?” he asked, looking round.
“I think it's horribly sordid,” Marie said with a little shudder. “Mr. Young, must we go through with this?
You could have given me a single room, couldn't you?”
Raven grinned at her. “Sure I could.”
“You said it was business. You said I didn't have anything to worry about. Can't you see this is all horribly sordid?”
Raven sat on the bed. “I've brought you so far,” he said, “and I guess I'm entitled to a little consideration from you. But I won't force myself on you. I'll put it like this. If you want to go on with me you'll stay here tonight and be nice. If you want either to stay in this burg an' rot or walk back to St. Louis, then I'll go off now an' take the car an' leave you to it. What's it to be?”
She said, “Oh, all right. You've got me where you want me, haven't you? I trade my body for the ride.
That's what you mean, isn't it?”
Raven's face twitched. “I thought of lettin' you down easy,” he said between his teeth, “but if you're goin'
to swap smart cracks you'll go the whole way.”
She sat on the other side of the bed away from him and began to cry. “My God!” she said. “I've been a fool.”
He suddenly lost patience with her and pushed her on to the bed. She saw the sudden lust that had come into his eyes and for a moment a scream hovered in her throat.
Raven said, “Don't yell.” He pinched her jaw between two fingers. “Do you want to go through with this or shall I beat it?”
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She lay flat on her back and looked up at him. She saw the blank lustful look that made him almost animal.
She could see the little beads of sweat standing out on his toad−coloured skin. She could see his body trembling and she could feel the vibrations shaking the bed. She wanted to say no, but she knew he'd have no mercy on her. He'd leave her here. She had one dollar and forty cents in her purse. What could she do with that?
So she shut her eyes, blotting out the strange inhuman face so close to hers, and through dry lips she told him to go ahead.
He put his hand on the front of her dress and ripped it. The thin material tore easily. She half sat up, but he shoved her down again. “Stay still,” he said, his eyes blazing savagely. “I'll buy you everything you want.
Stay still.”
“No, not like this,” she said, taking his wrist in both hands as he gripped her slip. “Pleaseit's horrible. Not like this.”
“Let go. Do you hear? Let go.”
Her hands dropped away as he ripped the silk from her and the hot night air slid over her frightened nakedness. She put both her hands over her eyes and began to cry.
Her long white body and her tight drawn−up breasts inflamed him. He reached out two shaking hands towards her, when a heavy rap sounded on the door.
For a second Raven stood paralysed. Then his instinct overrode his lust and he jerked up, his hand pulling his gun from its holster.
“What is it?” he said. His voice sounded cracked and hoarse to him.
Marie half turned on her side, hiding her head in her arms. Her white shoulders heaved with her crying.
“Come on out, Raven, with your hands in the air,” someone called.
Raven turned very cold. His mind sprang to the clerk and the start he'd given when he had signed the book.
He was trapped. He hadn't even the Thompson, which, like the crazy fool he was, he'd left in the boot of the car. He fired one shot that crashed through the door and he heard footsteps move hastily away.
Marie sat up on the bed with a scream. “What is it?” she said, staring at his gun. “Why are youshooting?
What”
Raven turned on her savagely. “Shut up!” he snarled.
“Hi, Raven,” someone called again, “you can't get away. The place's surrounded. Better give up. You've got no chance in the world.”
“Come an' get me!” he shouted back savagely, sending another shot through the door.
“Raven?” Marie gasped. “Are you Raven?”
He turned on her. “Yeah. Now you know, you stupid little bitch. You got me outta town, do you understand? Now, by God, you'll get me out of here too!”
Shoving his gun into his side pocket, he grabbed her
by her arm and pulled her to her feet. He wrenched off the ripped clothes that hung on her.
She was too terrified to feel her shame. “What are you going to do with me?” she said.
“You're goin' out there,” Raven told her, pulling his gun out again. “You're goin' to walk in front of me. If they shoot at me it's goin' to be too bad for you.”
“You can't do that. It's not my fight. You wouldn't force me into this... please... not like this!”
Twisting her arms behind her, he gripped her two wrists in one of his hands, then, crouching close behind her, he shoved her to the door.
“I'm comin' out!” he yelled. “Don't shoot. I'm comin' out.”
In a low, savage voice, he said to her, “If you faint, or try any tricks I'll spread your goddamn' guts all over the town.” He rammed the cold gun into her backbone, making her cry out with the pain, then he unlocked the door and pushed her out.
The two Federal Agents were so startled when Marie suddenly appeared that for a moment they hesitated.
It was that moment that Raven had gambled on. He fired twice almost as one shot. The flash of the gun burnt Marie's arm and she screamed wildly.
The two Agents slowly folded up, one of them shot through the head and the other in the middle of his chest.
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Raven said, “Keep moving.”
He ran her along the passage, but there was no one about. They went downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs the night clerk lurked, staring up with terrified eyes.
The sight of Marie's naked body seemed to mesmerize him. Raven shot him between the eyes.
He shoved Marie down the stairs fast and they crossed the deserted lobby. Through the open door he could see the Chrysler still parked outside. Another car stood near it, but it was empty.
His brain worked swiftly. The clerk would have reported to the Federal Field Office that he'd come to the hotel. The Feds would send out the alarm and then come on over. In a town like Odessa it was nearly a safe bet that there were only two Feds. The talk of surrounding the place was bluff.
Cautiously he pushed Marie out into the street. No one fired at him. Taking a deep breath, he ran her across to the car. “Get inside,” he snarled. “Quick.”
(1941) Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief Page 19