She hadn’t an idea how to tail anyone. For one thing she was dressed all wrong. You don’t tail an ex-dick in a bright-red shirt and a pair of sand-coloured slacks unless you want him to know you’re tailing him. Neither do you skip behind trees or into shop doorways or behind hedges the way she was doing it.
I waited long enough to be sure it was her, then I shook her off, made a quick circle around her and got on her tail. She didn’t know it, and she didn’t shake me off. I stuck to her like a burr and she never saw me.
She was bewildered and rattled by the way I had suddenly vanished, and for some time she kept prowling the streets trying to find me. I moved along in the rear, and she never thought to look behind her, so anxious was she to pick up my trail. After some time of this she stood on the edge of the kerb and tried to make up her mind what to do. I stood about ten feet from her, reading a newspaper and holding it so it shielded my face.
She didn’t expect me to be so close and therefore she didn’t see me. Finally she gave an angry little shrug and set off towards the car park. I had my car handy and was ready for her when she drove out of Santa Medina in a brand new Mercury.
I guessed after a while that she was heading for San Bernadino. There was no other town on this road, and San Bernadino was the first stop. I accelerated and got in front of her, and after a while I increased speed and soon lost her in a cloud of dust. By the time she arrived in San Bernadino I had garaged my car and hired a two-seater coupe. It was the easiest thing in the world to drive straight after her and she didn’t know me from Adam.
I wanted to know where she lived, and she took me right to the door. It was like taking dimes from a blind man’s cup. The house was up on a hill in a well-screened garden. I saw her stop the Mercury in front of the entrance and go inside. That was good enough for me.
I made inquiries in the town about her and learned she had rented the house furnished, then I drove back to Santa Medina, satisfied that the end was in sight.
I spent a little while with Mick explaining what I wanted him to do. At first, he was inclined to argue, but I persuaded him to see it my way, and in the end he agreed to play.
Early next morning I went out to San Bernadino, left the car at the garage and walked up to Veda’s place. There was plenty of cover and I settled down behind a hedge in her garden and waited for her to show herself.
I had a long wait, but around noon she came out. For a moment or so she stood on the front step and looked around the garden. She looked right at me, but that didn’t worry me. I was too well hidden, and she would have needed X-ray eyes to have seen me. She was about fifty yards from me and I thought she looked ill. The red-dyed hair didn’t suit her, her skin was pallid, and there were dark smudges under her eyes. She was dressed in a yellow-and-black flowered frock that showed off her superb little figure, and in her hand she carried a big sun hat. All new stuff. She was spending money all right.
I watched her drive away towards Santa Medina, and I guessed she was going to look for me again. I let her go. I was up there to look the house over. There’d be time to talk to her when I’d found what I was expecting to find.
When I was sure she was well out of the way, I walked up to the front door and rang the bell. No one answered. I took a quick look around before working on the lock. High flowering hedges screened the door from the road. No one was likely to see me. After a minute or so I turned the lock and pushed open the front door.
The only thing that came to meet me as I walked in was the faint smell of her perfume. But I was cautious, and went from room to room with my gun in my fist. She had no one to look after her. The house was impersonal, clean and unfriendly. I felt sorry for her living like this. It couldn’t have been much fun. Even the shack, primitive as it had been, was more homely than this place.
As soon as I satisfied myself that there was no one lurking in a cupboard or behind the curtains, I went to her bedroom. I thought it likely she wouldn’t be back before nightfall, but I couldn’t count on that. I had to work fast.
The wardrobe in the bedroom was locked, but I opened it without difficulty. On the floor of the wardrobe was her suitcase. This was also locked, and the lock resisted all my efforts to open it. Finally I cut the lock off by sawing through the leather.
There were only two things in the bag that interested me: a big wad of five-and twenty-dollar bills and a gold compact. I flicked through the notes. There must have been about twenty grand in that bundle: part of the money Brett had promised me for the dagger. I wasn’t surprised. By now I had guessed who had killed Brett, and this confirmed it.
“Don’t move,” she said from the doorway.
I hadn’t expected her, but I had known the risk. It was something I’d told Mick to take care of.
“Hello, Alma,” I said, and smiled at her.
She was pointing a .38 at me, and there was an expression on her face that might have meant anything.
“Have you told anyone?” she asked. Her voice was low and controlled.
“The boot’s on the other foot now, isn’t it? Remember what you said: “First Brett, then Max, now me.” It’s my turn to say it to you.”
“Have you told anyone?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, kid, but I couldn’t take any chances.”
I was watching her knuckle turn white as she began to take in the slack of the trigger. It was an unpleasant moment. I thought she was going to give it to me before I was ready.
“Joe tipped you, didn’t he?” I said. “I thought he would. The birth-mark gave it away, didn’t it, Alma? I knew the only way to find you was for you to come to me. As soon as Joe told you about the birth-mark you knew I’d found out about Veda. It was Joe, wasn’t it? It was Joe who let you out so you could kill Brett. You must have been very seductive to Joe, Alma.”
“Don’t call me that!”
“Why not? You’re Alma Baillie, aren’t you?”
“How long have I before they come?”
“Not long.”
“How long, Floyd?”
The way she was looking at me now made my heart pound. I was always a sucker for women. If she had put down the gun I would have taken her in my arms.
“Not long. Listen, kid, why didn’t you tell me? I’d’ve looked after you. Why did you try to push Brett’s killing on to me?”
You were a natural for it, and I can’t resist naturals. Have you told the police?”
“Redfern.”
Her mouth set.
“All right, Floyd. At least you won’t be at the trial.”
“Shooting me won’t get you anywhere. You can’t get away, unless . . .”
“Unless . . . what?”
“Unless you clear me. I could fix it for you if you did that.” All the time I was talking I was getting ready to jump her. I had pushed the suitcase out of my way, my muscles were tightening and I was judging the distance. It was going to be a pretty desperate jump.
“How?”
“Mick owns the police in this town. We could get you out of the country.”
The awful little smile flickered at the corners of her mouth. I suddenly realized how Max must have felt when she was coming at him with the poker. I began to sweat.
“I don’t trust you, Floyd. Once a cheap crook, always a cheap crook.”
I was ready now. In another second she would see I was ready. It was now or never.
“Okay, Redfern,” I shouted suddenly. “Come in and take her.”
I had her rattled. She half turned to the door. I launched myself at her. I was a fraction late. The gun exploded in my face, and I felt a slug kick the top of my ear. Then I was on top of her, trying to grab her wrists. She was as quick and as slippery as a snake. She nearly rammed the gun in my side, but I knocked it away as she fired. I felt the slug rip through my coat. I could feel her hot breath against my cheek as I grabbed her gun hand and hung, on. She hit and scratched at my face, twisted and kicked. But I had the gun now, wrenched it from her, threw her off and stru
ggled to my feet.
As she came at me I yelled to her, but she didn’t stop. She seemed to know I wouldn’t shoot and she flung herself on me, snatching at the gun. I had to hit, her, I didn’t want to. Maybe you don’t believe it, but I didn’t.
“Stop it!” I yelled. I was scared by her ferocity. “Stop it, will you?”
Panting, she came at me again. I threw the gun away so I could grapple with her with both hands. Twice she nearly got my eyes with her finger-nails. Blood was running down my face. As I got to my feet, she threw herself at the gun. I reached her as her hand closed around it, and I got hold of her dress. She kicked out at me, got up and jumped away. The dress ripped off her. She looked wild now with blood running down the side of her face from a cut over her eye. She was bringing up the gun as I grabbed her wrist. We fell on the bed. My hand was slippery with sweat and I couldn’t hold her. She twisted away, fired at me. The slug chipped a bit out of my arm and as she fired again, I hit her wrist. The barrel swung towards her as the gun went off.
For a moment we lay staring at each other, then the gun dropped from her hand, and I got unsteadily to my feet.
“Veda!”
I scarcely heard the squeal of car tyres on the gravel outside.
“Veda!”
“Satisfied?” There was a jeering note in her voice. She looked down at the hole in her side. Blood began to run down the blackened flesh where the gun flash had caught her. “Well, this is it, Floyd.” Her voice was in a choked whisper. “I hope it makes you happy.”
“You fool! Why did you fight? I could have got you away if only you had cleared me.”
The door jerked open and Redfern came in. Behind him was Summers.
“Why didn’t you come before?” I blurted out. “Why the hell didn’t you come before?”
“It’s Jackson!”
Summers threw a gun on me.
“Hold it!” he snarled. “One move and you get it.”
“She’s hurt. Do something! Get a doctor!”
Redfern went over to Veda. I heard him say, “Did he shoot you?”
She said: “Yes, and he shot Brett. He killed Max Otis, too. Make him show you where he buried Otis. Don’t let him get away with it.”
“Veda!” I went to her, pushing Redfern aside. “Don’t bluff. I have all the evidence I want. Tell them the truth.”
She laughed at me.
“Poor cheap little crook. It’s not coming right for you this time.”
She was white and her eyes seemed to have sunk deep into their sockets.
“Veda—”
“All right, Jackson, leave her alone,” Redfern said curtly. “Take him out of here,” he went on to Summers. “Watch him.”
“I’m not leaving her—” I began.
Summers hit me on the side of my jaw. His cameo ring and his fist knocked me silly. I went down on my hands and knees. She was laughing as he dragged me out.
It took me a minute or so to recover from that punch; by that time a couple of uniformed cops were in charge of me. I sat in the lounge and tried to stop the bleeding where the ring had ripped my cheek while Summers watched me and the two cops stood behind me.
“I want to see her—” I began, but Summers raised his fist.
“Shut up, you! If you want another poke in the puss open your trap and you’ll get it.”
I waited. After a while an ambulance arrived. Minutes ticked past, then Redfern came in.
“I want to see her before she goes,” I said.
He came over and stared down at me.
“She’s dead, Jackson. Seeing her won’t do you any good.”
I felt a sudden emptiness inside me, but it was no good grieving. It was the best way out for her.
Now, look, Redfern, I didn’t kill her. I told Casy to call you up and let you know where I was and what I was doing. You were late, and she caught me. We fought. In the struggle the gun went off. It was an accident.”
“All right,” Redfern said, “it was an accident. Casy says you’ve cracked the case. You’d better start talking.” He looked at the two cops. “Okay, boys, beat it. Stick around outside.”
When they had gone, he sat down opposite me.
“So you know who killed Brett?”
“I know. I want to make a statement.”
Summers pulled up a chair, took out a notebook and sat down at a table.
“Go ahead,” he said.
“It starts back two years ago. Remember the Baillies? Verne was killed, but Alma got away. She went into hiding. A year later she was recognized and the hunt started all over again. She made for Hollywood. On the road she ran into a girl named Veda Rux, who was also going to Hollywood. Veda wanted a lift and Alma reckoned it would be safer for her to travel with another girl as the Feds were looking for only one girl. They travelled together, and Veda told Alma her life story and background. Alma hit on the idea of changing identities. She killed Veda, changed clothes with her, wrecked the car and set fire to it. The Federal Agent who found the car and the burned body wanted the reward. He knew there had been two girls in the car, so did the Sheriff of Gallup, but they kept quiet about that, swore it was Alma’s body and shared the reward. Veda was buried as Alma, and Alma was free to begin a new life.”
Redfern lit a cigarette.
“You’re getting all this?” he asked Summers.
“I’m getting it,” Summers said and sneered.
“Go on,” Redfern said.
“If you know anything about the Ballies, you’ll know Alma was crazy about her husband. He had given her a gold powder compact and she couldn’t part with it. You might get it. It’s in the suitcase on the bed.”
Summers went out of the room and came back with the suitcase. I took the compact from him. I was aware both of them eyed the wad of money with more interest than the compact.
“Have a look at it,” I said, and lifted the lid. “You’ll see a photograph of Verne and Alma inside and across the photo the words “For Alma from Verne: a man’s best friend is his wife”, and if you’ll study the photograph you’ll recognize the girl who called herself Veda Rux.”
Redfern took the compact and examined it, then with a little grunt slipped it into his pocket.
“Go on.”
“Veda couldn’t part with the compact although she knew it was dangerous, and that started the trouble.” I went on to tell him how she had walked in her sleep; had taken the Cellini dagger and left the compact in its place; how Boyd had bribed Gorman and her to let him have the dagger, and how Gorman had come to me to get the compact from Brett’s safe.
“Neither Gorman nor Boyd knew how important the compact was to Veda. They thought it would connect her with the stealing of the dagger. She knew it would mean much more than that. It would reveal her true identity, and don’t forget she was wanted for murder.”
I went on to tell how I had played it and had hidden the compact, hoping to make money out of it, and how Veda, desperate to get it, had pretended to join forces with me. I showed Redfern Brett’s card. “While we were in hiding, I showed the card to Veda. That told her Brett had seen inside the compact. I don’t know how that happened, unless Brett had found the compact where I had hidden it and the inscription had puzzled him. He must have jotted the words down, meaning to make inquiries. Veda knew she had to kill him before he gave her away. I provided an alibi for her by keeping her locked up in Casy’s penthouse under guard. But she persuaded the guard, a guy named Joe, to let her out, and she followed me to Brett’s place. It was easy for her to walk in and get the gun. Brett knew her, and he may have thought she had changed her mind and was going to be nice to him. Anyway, she shot him. It’s my guess the compact and the money were on the desk. All she had to do was to pick them up, get out of the way while I walked into trouble. Well, you know the rest of it. I’ve checked most of the facts, but the compact speaks for itself. You can see how it is.”
“How about this guy Otis she talked about?” Redfern demanded.
&n
bsp; “She killed him.”
Redfern got up.
“Let’s go and find him.”
“Now, wait a minute—”
“Come on.”
We drove up in three cars. I went first with two cops. Redfern and Summers behind me and the prowl boys in the rear.
I showed them where we had buried Max, and they dug him up. We stood around in silence while the prowl boys wrapped him in a rubber sheet and put him in one of the cars. Then we drove to the shack, and I showed them where he had died.
“I thought she had killed him in her sleep, but that was an act,” I explained. “Max knew she was Alma Baillie. She told me she had caught him looking through her things. My guess is he found the compact and recognized the photograph. She realized she’d have to silence him before he told me. She had to kill him while I was there, and she hit on the idea of pretending to kill him in her sleep, and I was sucker enough to believe her. She pretended to try to kill me too, to strengthen her act, and she got away with it. As soon as she was sure I didn’t suspect her of either killing Brett or knowing she had killed Max, she left me. I found out Max knew about the inscription in the compact, and that put me on to her. Two men had known about the inscription, and both of them had died. I knew she had killed Max. It was easy to guess she had killed Brett. Then I remembered she had carried dark hair dye around with her. She was dark, and she wouldn’t need it unless she was fair and was retouching her dyed hair.
“Do you get it? That put me on to the idea she wasn’t Veda at all. I checked, made inquiries, found Veda had brown eyes, was left-handed and had a birth-mark. The Veda I knew hadn’t a birth-mark; she had blue eyes and wasn’t left-handed. I traced her here and before coming out here I told Casy to call you and get you out here, too. You were a little late. If you’d got here sooner she wouldn’t have shot herself. That’s about all.”
“Okay, Jackson,” Redfern said, getting to his feet. “We’ll go down to headquarters now and get the statement typed then we’ll have another talk.
1955 - You Never Know With Women Page 21
