1951 - In a Vain Shadow

by James Hadley Chase

But I wasn’t going to tell him. I had had enough of waiting. I couldn’t touch him until he left the house. Once he put a foot outside I could take him. I would know then for certain he had the money on him.

  Rita came in. Her face was chalk-white and her eyes sunken.

  ‘Who was that?’

  ‘Miss Robinson. She says the plane’s due of at nine forty instead of ten. You’d better tell him to hurry.’

  She gave me a long suspicious stare and went out. I waited a moment, then slipped into the hall. I heard her tell him.

  While I waited I checked over my plan. First the gun. That was essential. He would probably have it in his coat pocket.

  The thing to do would be to say casually, ‘May I examine the gun for a moment? We don’t want it to jam.’ If it was said casually enough he might hand it over without thinking: if he didn’t, then I’d have to hit him. The moment he began to fall I had to turn on her. She was strong, quick and dangerous. I wouldn’t have to give her a second in which to recover. A solid punch on the side of her head should stun her long enough for me to get his coat of and search him. Then all I had to do was get into the car and vamoose. Once I was clear of the place there was nothing he could do to me: nor she either.

  I was sweating now with excitement and nerves. I wished they would hurry up.

  Then I heard a step on the stairs. She was corning down.

  ‘We’ll have to get a move on.’

  She didn’t say anything. She was wearing a fur coat, no hat and blue slacks.

  ‘Is he coming...?’

  I broke off. She had the gun in her hand. I felt a prickle run up my spine.

  ‘What have you got that for?’

  She gave me a hard, curious look.

  ‘He can’t see very well, so I said I’d carry the gun. He wants you to drive.’

  ‘Maybe I had better have the gun.’

  She pointed the gun at me in an absent-minded way as if she wasn’t aware what she was doing. But that fooled neither of us.

  ‘I’m keeping it!’

  He came down the stairs and joined us.

  ‘We go. You go first, Mitchell, and see if is all right.’

  ‘I was saying perhaps I had better have the gun. Mr. Sarek.’

  ‘She want it.’

  Well, that was that.

  I went first. I didn’t like the way she handled the gun.

  Something told me she wouldn’t need a lot of persuasion to shoot me.

  The set-up had gone sour.

  All the way along the broad, dark stretch of the arterial road I wondered. Did she guess what I was up to? Or was the whole thing a coincidences I hadn’t distinguished myself, so they weren’t taking chances with me? No more to it than they thought I was a dimwitted boaster who had failed to make good. I couldn’t see how I was going to get round this new development, and I was sick with rage and frustration.

  He sat beside me, and the sleeve of his coat rested against my arm. She sat immediately behind me, and I knew she had the gun in her lap. No chance of pulling up and going for him, although the road was dark and lonely, and if she hadn’t had the gun it would have been easy.

  Ahead of me I could see the airport lights. We had an hour before his plane took off. Well, anything could happen in an hour. I pulled up outside the reception hall.

  ‘Get Miss Robinson.’

  ‘You mean you want her out here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  I got out of the car and went inside. Miss Robinson was leaning over the counter talking in her girl-guide way to a fat, elderly man who looked as if he was worth a million pounds.

  She was quite a bright girl when it came to picking the boys with the money.

  I went up to the counter.

  ‘When you have a minute. Miss Robinson.’

  The fat character scowled at me, but I had disrupted what looked like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

  ‘I better not keep you, my dear.’

  ‘I’ll bring you your things, Mr. Oppenheimer, as soon as they arrive.’

  He took himself off, but not before he had given me another scowl.

  ‘That’s a nice smooth line you hand out. Do you ever try it on the younger generation or is it strictly reserved for the old and moneyed?’

  She went a nice shade of pink.

  ‘Is Mr. Sarek here?’

  ‘He’s right outside. Mrs. Sarek’s here too, so don’t be too gushing.’

  She swept past me, her head high, her face scarlet. I trailed after her.

  The sight of Sarek’s bandaged face shook her to her heels.

  In that coat and black hat, he looked like something from a horror film.

  ‘Oh, Mr. Sarek, I’m so sorry. Are you in pain?’

  ‘Is all right.’ He sounded impatient. ‘I don’t want to be stared at, you understand? Take me to the plane at once. Mrs. Sarek, she will attend to the details.’

  She started telling him he was much too early.

  ‘You have forty minutes to wait.’

  ‘Forty minutes. Is impossible!’ He flew into a rage. ‘What do you mean - forty minutes!’

  ‘But I phoned. Mr.-Mr.-’ She floundered.

  ‘Mitchell is the name. I know you phoned, but you said the plane would be twenty minutes early. Just because you happen to be a little off your usual bright beam, don’t try and push it of on to me!’

  She was so astonished she could only open and shut her mouth without making a sound.

  ‘He’s lying,’ Rita said.

  That’s what I hoped she would say.

  ‘That about does it!’ I said angrily. ‘All right, the whole bunch of you can go to hell! So long Mr. Sarek. You don’t need me anymore. You’ll be safe enough here. I’m going. I’ve better things to do than to listen to your wife calling me a liar,’ and without giving him a chance to say anything, and without looking at Rita I walked off towards the entrance gates.

  I stood in the darkness and watched them. Miss Robinson was doing most of the talking. Rita still sat in the car. Sarek had got out. He kept waving his hands; he was almost dancing with rage.

  It was pretty obvious Miss Robinson was trying to persuade him to go into the waiting hall, but he wouldn’t go. I didn’t blame him either. With the bandages and in that coat he would have started a riot.

  Finally Rita got out of the car and slid under the steering wheel. Sarek got in beside her Miss Robinson went inside the reception building. There was a long wait, then Miss Robinson came out again and gave him some papers. She pointed to a distant plane standing under arc lights some five hundred yards away.

  They talked some more, then Rita drove the car along the runway, towards the aircraft.

  I moved out of the darkness and walked after them.

  She parked the car near a hangar, about fifty yards from the aircraft. There was no one about, and I wondered if I could get near enough to start something. But she had parked the car under a light, and she would see me before I could reach the car.

  I had still twenty-five minutes before the plane took off.

  I got as close as I could and waited. Minutes ticked by, then Sarek suddenly got out of the car. I began to sweat, and my heart started to thump. He walked a few yards away from the car and looked to right and left, then he came back and said something to Rita.

  I began to move slowly and silently towards them.

  Finally he walked towards the hangar. Rita got out of the car and watched him. I kept moving, judging the distance, making sure I could cut him of the moment he reached the heavy shadows of the hangar.

  He kept looking to right and left, but I knew he couldn’t see much because of the bandage. I was sure he wouldn’t spot me as I edged towards him. He reached the hangar. I was there, waiting. He paused within a yard of me, facing the hangar, not seeing me, and looked away from me.

  I knew exactly what I was going to do. I had to stop him from yelling, and I had to be sure Rita hadn’t given him the gun.

  As he began to un
button his coat I took two short silent steps forward and was on him before he knew what was happening. He turned sharply, his breath coming out between clenched teeth in a frightened little hiss. My hand shot out and I had him by the throat. My left hand clamped down on his right wrist.

  My fingers dug into his windpipe, cutting the air from his lungs. I had only to hold him like that for a few seconds and he’d lose consciousness. The Army had taught me how to put a man out by pressure on his windpipe, and I was confident I wouldn’t hurt him. But I hadn’t reckoned with his unexpected strength.

  The moment my fingers sank into his windpipe he seemed to go of his head. His free hand whipped up and found my face. His fingernails tried to claw me, but I jerked back in time.

  He kicked out, twisting away from me. It was like trying to hold an eel. I let go of his right wrist and grabbed his throat with both hands, slamming him against the wall. For three or four seconds he kicked, clawed at the air and struggled. His shoe caught me below the knee. The more he struggled the greater the pressure I put on his neck. I was getting into a panic. He should have been unconscious seconds ago. Apart from my breathing there wasn’t a sound to tell Rita what was happening.

  Then suddenly I felt something give under my fingers and heard a soft snick! That made my hair stand on end: the unmistakable sound a small bone makes when it breaks.

  Sarek suddenly went limp. His unexpected weight threw me forward. I let go of him and stepped back, my heart freezing.

  He slid gently to the ground and lay in a heap at my feet.

  ‘What have you done?’

  Rita was standing at my side.

  I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. I knew what I had done all right.

  She bent over him while I waited.

  There was a long silence while my blood curdled and my flesh began to creep.

  Then she said it.

  ‘You’ve killed him, Frank.’

  chapter fifteen

  This was murder!

  Not something to be read about in a newspaper while wondering how long it would be before the killer was caught.

  Not an unknown individual who is hunted day and night, and finally taken to a police station with a coat thrown over his head. Not an impersonal sensation you forget almost as soon as you toss the paper aside. Not the remote thing that meant nothing; so little, in fact, that I once said I would take it in my stride. This was happening to me. This was real. Something I had done that no power on earth could undo: something I would have to pay for with my life.

  Murder!

  Something that turned me cold with a sick, horrible fear.

  Something that would be with me for the rest of my life. From now on I wouldn’t have one second of peace. Any noise, any sudden movement, any voice calling me; a step outside my door, a shadow in the street, a creating stair would set my heart pounding and my legs running in a desperate attempt to escape. It would be me they would hunt, and when they caught me, I knew nothing would convince them I hadn’t meant to kill him. Not the cleverest, smartest counsel in the world would convince them of that.

  ‘Frank!’

  ‘Get away from me!’

  ‘Here; drink this.’

  She put a leather-bound flask into my hand.

  ‘It’s brandy. Don’t lose your head, Frank. I’m going to help you.’ The mouth of the flask rattled against my teeth. I took a long drink. The spirit ran down my chin and into my collar.

  ‘Listen, Frank we can still do it. Get hold of yourself. We can still beat them.’

  A picture of her swam into my mind: the green, glittering eyes, the sullen, stony face and the undefeated spirit behind the mask. If there was a way out, she would find it. She and nobody else.

  I grabbed hold of her.

  ‘I didn’t mean to do it, Rita.’

  ‘Do you think they’d believe you? It’s done, and he’s dead.’

  ‘What am I going to do? I’m sunk! They’ll be waiting on the plane for him, and when he doesn’t show up, they’ll look for him.’

  ‘I’m going in his place. It’s the only way out, Frank. If I wear his coat and those bandages, they won’t know the difference. We’re the same size, and they know the coat. They’ve seen it dozens of times. They won’t be looking at me; they’ll be looking at the coat!’

  ‘They’ll spot your voice.’

  ‘I won’t speak. Wait here. You mustn’t be seen. I’ll get the car. Get his coat off Frank.’

  The paralysing fear that had gripped me began to recede.

  This could be the way out: with any luck, it was the way out.

  I moved into the darkness and knelt in the damp grass where he lay. I couldn’t see him. I didn’t want to see him.

  Sweat ran down my face and into my eyes as I groped for him.

  My hands touched the sleeve of his coat. I had to steel myself to undo the buttons. I got it of him somehow. He was like a limp doll.

  I had the coat now and I stood up. I had killed him for the coat and now I had it, I didn’t even bother to put my hands in the pockets. The fear of being caught and hanged had purged the thought of the money and the diamonds out of my mind. If the diamonds had been lying in the grass I wouldn’t have picked them up. There was no room in my mind for anything else except the frantic clamour to escape the penalty of killing him.

  She backed the car into the shadow of the hangar and pulled up with the rear bumper a couple of feet from me.

  She had an electric torch in her hand as she got out of the car.

  ‘Time’s running out, Frank!’

  She went over and knelt beside him. I held the torch, shielding the light with my fingers. I watched her pull of his hat and unwind the bandage from his face. There was a patch of blood on the bandage where he had bled a little from the mouth. When the tail of the bandage stuck to his lips she jerked it free, brutally, pulling his mouth out of shape. It made me feel sick to watch her. Every movement she made was confident, swift and ruthless.

  ‘All right. Help me get him into the boot.’

  She dragged him by his Does across the grass towards the car. I gripped his coat collar, and together we hoisted him into the boot.

  He was small, but not small enough. His legs and arms hung out, making him look like a puppet without wires.

  She pushed me aside and crammed his legs in, shoving them up to his chin as callously as if she was handling a sack of potatoes. She wedged his arms up behind his head. ‘Give me the light!’

  She snatched the torch out of my hand, and flung the beam on his dead face. For a couple of seconds, she stared at him, then she slammed the boot shut.

  ‘At last, he’s dead!’

  The triumph in her voice made my blood run cold.

  The whole of the ghastly operation hadn’t taken more than three minutes, but time was running out. From where we stood we could see shadowy figures coming from the reception hall, and moving towards the aircraft.

  ‘Give me his hat and coat. Hurry!’

  She began to roll up the bandage.

  ‘You’ll have to do it. Get the bloodstained bit at the back.’

  She snatched the hat and coat from me and gave me the roll of bandage.

  It sickened me that she could endure the feel of the bloodwet bandage against her neck.

  ‘Make it tighter! Let me finish it.’

  At last it was done. I watched her strip of her fur coat.

  She tucked her hair inside the hat and pulled on his coat. It reached almost to the cuffs of her black slacks, and looking at her I knew at once, provided she didn’t have to speak, no one would tell her from Sarek.

  ‘Will I do? Will they spot me?’

  ‘You look like him. Yes, you look just like him.’

  ‘If I can get away with it, we’ll beat them, Frank. Now, listen, go back to the house. Follow our plan. Drop him down the well. Are you listening?’

  ‘Yes.’

  But I was thinking if they didn’t spot her I was safe. I was sure of it
now: safer than I would have been if I had followed put my original plan. Safer because I hadn’t taken the Robinson woman into account, and she could have been the spanner in the works. Now she would swear he had left on the plane.

  If only they didn’t spot her!

  ‘I’ll come straight back tonight. I’ll telephone you as soon as I get to Paris. Wait for my call. It’s going to be all right.’

  ‘How about Robinson?’

  ‘It’s all right. He said goodbye to here She promised to tell the airhostess to leave him alone and not worry him. They have reserved a seat up in front so no one can look at him. If I can get into the plane without being spotted I’m all right.’

  ‘How about getting back?’

  ‘I’ll manage. I have my passport. It’s going to be all right, Frank.’

  I grabbed her arms.

  ‘It’s got to be all right!’

  ‘Be careful how you drive back. If you had an accident...’

  ‘I’ll watch it. You’d better get off. Look, the girl’s there now with her checking list. Get off now.’

  ‘Get rid of him the way we said. Don’t forget my coat. Can you manage, Frank?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m sorry about the way I behaved. Now he’s dead I feel different.’

  ‘You’d better get off.’

  ‘Kiss me, Frank.’

  I kissed the side of her neck.

  She was saving my life, wasn’t she?

  The passengers were getting into the aircraft now, moving up the stairway; the women first, the men politely hanging back. The girl checking them in had a word to say to most of them.

  I waited, scarcely breathing, my fists clenched, my heart hammering.

  Rita walked towards the aircraft without hurrying. From a distance she looked exactly like Sarek: she even managed to walk like him.

  The airhostess glanced up as she reached the stairway. I held my breath. Would she notice anything? Would she stop her? Rita didn’t pause. The girl made a tick with her pencil and looked away. She had obviously been warned not to stare. Rita went on up the stairway and disappeared into the aircraft.

  She had done it!

  I thought I couldn’t have lived through a worse moment, but a couple of seconds later I knew different.

  A car came out of the darkness and swung to a skidding halt before the reception hall entrance. A fat, dumpy figure climbed out.