Guilt by Association

by Gilbert, Morris

  She stared at him, then shook her head. “Savage, you don’t know what’s in me! Don’t try to pretend that pass you just made at me was somehow noble and grand. Because it wasn’t!” Her voice was unsteady, and she forced herself to wait, before saying, “It’s my fault that you’re in here, and I’m sorry for it. But don’t ever touch me again. You hear me?”

  He nodded slowly. “Sure, Miss Ross, I hear you.” He made a tough shape before her, his eyes half closed. He said no more, but stood there, watching her until she wheeled and left, forcing herself to walk slowly across the floor out of the rec room.

  After breakfast, the strain that lay over them was evident. Rachel glared at Vince, who ignored her, but he did make a half apology to Bix: “Sorry about that sock in the mouth, kid.” He shrugged. “I’ve got a bad temper; got me into a lot of trouble, I tell you.” Bix was anxious to make the matter up, and soon a game of Monopoly was going, with Sid and Rosie joining Vince and Bix. After Sid won, they all joined in a game called Trivial Pursuit, based on a knowledge of trivia. Ben was amused that Lonnie was unbeatable on sports, Candi on entertainment, and Karen on science.

  There were surprises, for Lonnie correctly answered, “What’s the capital of Iceland?” with “Reykjavík.” When Ben asked how he knew, he just shrugged. “I look at maps a lot.” He evidently did, for he seldom missed on a geography question.

  Rachel missed the question, “What country has the port of Haifa?”

  “You don’t know Haifa is in Israel?” Karl asked in surprise, but she refused to argue with him.

  Bix never missed a single question on the movies or music and never answered one correctly on science. “I’m a specialist,” he explained loftily, to which Lonnie grunted, “You’re an ignoramus is what you are!”

  Dani was the best, of course, and had to resort to lying to look bad. Ben caught her at it and whispered, “It’s pretty bad when you have to pretend to be dumb just to be a part of the gang, ain’t it, boss? Now, me, I never have that trouble!”

  Karen knew almost nothing about entertainment. Sid, to everyone’s amazement, flawlessly shot out answers to history questions. “Nothing much to read in the prison library but history books.” He shrugged.

  The noise level rose, and at ten everybody was hungry, so they had a mountain of sandwiches and a cake that Betty had been saving for the next day. They drank huge amounts of milk, coffee, tea, and punch. Then they went back to their games, switching partners, and continuing to play until nearly midnight. All except Rosie, Betty, and Dani, who had all come in last in their games and had to clean up, went to bed. The place was a mess.

  “What time is it?” Betty asked finally.

  Dani looked at her watch. “Twelve fifteen.”

  “You go on to bed,” Betty said. “I’m going to cut up the chickens for tomorrow, then I’m going myself.”

  Dani didn’t argue, but turned to go. Rosie had retired to one of the easy chairs and was reading. “Good night, Rosie,” she called out. ‘Til see you in the morning.”

  “Sure enough,” he responded, giving her a wave and a smile. “I’ll see you in the morning, Miss Danielle.”

  Dani slept like a log until six in the morning. She rose and took her shower, dressed, and went to the kitchen. Betty was not there, so Dani started to fix the coffee—then stopped.

  “Why, Rosie—!” she turned to go over to where he sat with his head back on the chair. The Bible he’d been reading had fallen off his lap to the floor. “You’ll be stiff as a board, sleeping with your neck bent, Rosie! Come on, now . . .” she said cheerfully.

  She reached out and shook his shoulder. He tilted slowly to his left, then fell to the floor, his head striking the concrete with a dull sound.

  “Rosie . . . !” Dani screamed. “What’s the matter?”

  As soon as she touched the cold flesh, she knew Rosie was dead. Dani knelt there, paralyzed by shock. Terror shook her nerves, and she lurched to her feet, trying to cry out. But before a syllable could pass her lips, a voice came from the doorway, and she wheeled to see Holtz advancing toward her.

  10

  Inquiry

  * * *

  Dani finally gasped, “It’s Rosie, Karl! He’s dead!” She rose, and ran blindly out of the room, back into the sleeping quarters.

  “Dani, what is it?” Rachel cried out.

  Dani lurched through the door of the bathroom, where she threw up violently. A few minutes later, as she washed her face in cold water, voices came from the men’s side. On rubbery legs she walked back to the rec room. Her face had become so white that her eyes seemed like dark stains against the pallor.

  They had moved the body to the couch, she saw with relief, and those who watched blocked her view of Karen examining the body. Holtz turned, and his own face was pale. “You found him like this?”

  “Y-yes,” Dani said haltingly. “I got up a little early—and at first I didn’t see him.”

  Holtz considered that, then shot a look at Karen. “How long would you say he’s been dead?”

  Karen turned from her examination. “I don’t know for sure. Rigor mortis hasn’t set in, so it can’t have been too long ago.” She gave them a grim look. “I’ve got to examine him. If any of you feel squeamish, you’d better get out.”

  All of them turned at once to leave. Pale faced, Betty offered, “I’ll fix some coffee.” Candi said with a quiver in her voice, “I—I guess I’ll get dressed.”

  It was something to do, to get away from that still form, and most of them walked away. Rachel shrugged and said to Karen, “What difference does it make what we wear? Nobody’s going anywhere.” She moved back to the kitchen and began mixing some hot chocolate, adding glumly, “If the killer keeps on knocking us off, there won’t be enough of us left to have breakfast!”

  When Dani and Candi returned, they found the others all assembled, most of them seated at the tables. Both sat down at a table with Holtz, and Betty brought them coffee, which neither could drink.

  “Who saw him alive last?” Ben asked.

  “Why, I suppose I did.” Betty stopped on her way back to the stove with the coffeepot. She blinked her eyes rapidly, adding, “Dani and Rosie and I did the cleanup after the rest of you went to bed. But Dani left while I was cutting up the chickens.”

  “What did Rosie do after I left?” Dani asked.

  “Why, nothing!” Betty shrugged and added, “He was in that chair, reading, and he never got out of it. Never even said good night when I left.”

  Vince said suddenly, “One thing is sure. It wasn’t Stone who killed Rosie! One of us did the job!”

  Silence blanketed the room, until Bix piped up, “Poor guy! He was always talking about his kids and his grandchildren and what he’d do when he got out of here!” Something came into his eyes, and he cast a calculating glance at Lonnie, who was sitting silently, his head bowed as he stared at his hands. “You won’t grieve too much, Lonnie,” he said bitterly.

  Lonnie’s head jerked up, and his voice was shrill. “What’s that supposed to mean? That I killed him?”

  Bix raised his voice, answering angrily, “I didn’t say that, but you can’t deny you hated him.”

  “I ain’t so keen on you, either, punk!” Lonnie spat out. “You just keep workin’ your mouth, and you might be next!”

  “Both of you shut up!” Vince took a step toward the pair, halting as Karen suddenly walked up. “What was it, Doc?” he asked.

  Karen’s lips were turned down in a bitter expression, and her eyes were cold as she bit out: “Three wounds. Two of them he might have survived, but not the one that went right to his heart. He also had a lump on the back of his head, which could have been caused by a blow.”

  “How terrible!” Betty whispered. “The poor man!”

  Ben suddenly got to his feet, directing, “Two of you come along with me. We’ll check the kitchen knives.” Holtz and Vince joined him in the kitchen as he added, “Betty, show us the hardware.”

 
Betty opened the drawer, looked in, then stepped back. “There’s only three knives—and they’re all here. A paring knife, a butcher knife, and a bread knife.”

  Ben picked them all up, and the rest followed him back to the tables. He held them out toward Karen. “What about it, Doc? Could it have been any of these?”

  Karen examined them, then shook her head. “I don’t think so, Ben. It would take a heavier blade than a paring knife, and the slicing knife wouldn’t do. Maybe the butcher knife, but I doubt it.”

  “Got to be here somewhere,” Vince said. “Guess we better have a shakedown.”

  “Exactly!” Holtz said. “But in pairs.” Grimly he added, “Our assassin, whoever he is, would love to search for the weapon alone! Ben, you’ve been a policeman; why don’t you organize this thing?”

  “I’d say half of us search the sleeping areas, the other half in here.” He divided them up into pairs, and in ten minutes the searchers were poking into every possible hiding place.

  Ben had paired off with Rachel, and as the two were pulling the bedding off the women’s bunks, she asked curiously, “Do you think we’ll find it, Ben?”

  “I’d be surprised,” he answered briefly. “There are plenty of hiding places in this silo.” He was correct, for after two hours of thorough searching, they were forced to give up.

  Betty cooked breakfast, and some of them ate a little, but Dani found it all she could do to force herself to drink some hot chocolate. As they all sat around, she suddenly said, “It had to be a man who killed him!”

  Valentine threw her a wicked look and slammed his first on the table, snarling, “I’ve known plenty of broads who could use a shiv! Matter of fact, I’ve got a nice little memento right here—” He pulled up his left sleeve and pointed to a ragged scar, “From a dizzy blond in Chicago!”

  “I don’t doubt that a woman would stab a man.” Dani nodded. “But I’ve been wondering why he didn’t call out for help.” She looked at Karen and asked, “He didn’t die instantly, did he?”

  Karen stared at her, then shook her head. “I’d say not. Those first two cuts took at least a few seconds. He’d have had time to call for help, I’d think. But he’d have called, no matter who was attacking him.”

  “Only if he could call for help,” Dani said. “I don’t think he was able to. I think the murderer knew he wouldn’t cry out.”

  “How could he be sure of that?” Rachel demanded.

  Dani said slowly, “Only one way that I can think of. It’somebody very strong grabbed him from the rear, around the neck, with one arm, so that he couldn’t scream, and stabbed him with the other hand . . . ?” She left the question in the air.

  “That makes me a prime suspect,” Ben chimed in. “We were all trained to do exactly that in the Rangers.” He smiled grimly, adding, “I was the best man in the company at the job.”

  “Clever of you to mention it, Savage, before one of us pointed it out!” Vince said in a suspicious voice. Then he looked around and gave a short laugh. “I wasn’t in the army, but where I grew up, we had basic training, too. I know a hundred guys who can do a stunt like this—including me and Sid here.”

  Sid yelped, “You can leave me out—!”

  “Shut up, Sid.” Vince grinned wolfishly. “You shouldn’t have told me all the tales about the big house—especially how you made a shiv out of a file and sliced that guy up!” He gave Bix a contemptuous look. “Even a punk like you could do an old guy like Rosie in, Bentley. So it could have been any one of us.”

  “It could have been a woman, too,” Ben remarked. “She could have slipped up behind him, hit him on the head, and stabbed him after he was dead. Or she could have slipped him some kind of dope that put him out, then done the job.”

  They stared at him, then he shrugged. “One thing is pretty sure: Don’t trust anybody! Best way of life, I’ve found.”

  “You don’t think he’ll try again?” Karen exclaimed. “Not now that we know he’s in our midst!”

  Dani answered slowly, “I think he will.” She licked her lips, and a slight shiver went over her. “I think That’s what he’s here for—to kill us, if we don’t do what Maxwell Stone wants.”

  Dani wrote the note saying that Rosie was dead, and slipped it through the slot. Late that afternoon, they heard the whine of the winch. Once again they formed into a group, and Dani read the Bible then spoke a few words. She spoke of Rosie’s gentle spirit and his willingness to serve others. After mentioning his faith, she ended, “He was a simple man, Roosevelt Smith. His name was never in the papers, and he will not be remembered by many people. But I will remember him as long as I live, for to me he was a member of my family.” She paused and seemed to struggle for a moment. When she lifted her head toward the darkness overhead, they all saw that tears rolled down her cheeks, but she was smiling. “We’re part of the family of God, and I will see him again one day. The last thing he said to me was ‘See you in the morning.’” She bowed her head, said a prayer, and the earthly part of Rosie Smith slowly rose and was swallowed up.

  Bix whispered, “He was a good dude, that Rosie was!”

  The next morning, Rachel found Bix chopping away listlessly at the concrete. He looked up and gave her a wan smile, muttering, “Waste of time! What gets me is that the killer knows about this crazy plan to escape. Matter of fact,” he said as a thought struck him, “the dirty dog has been working on it!”

  Rachel looked startled. She nodded slowly, saying, “I guess that’s right, Bix.” She squatted down and peered at the hole. “Funny—you said ‘the killer’ just as we’d say ‘the repairman.’ I can’t really believe it, can you? Two people have been murdered!” Her dark eyes looked tragic, and she suddenly cocked her head and stared at him. “Did you do it, Bix? You look like such a nice boy, but I have to put you in the same category as Sid and Vince.”

  “You don’t really think that!”

  She appeared not to hear, only whispering, “It could be Savage. He’s hard!” Then her eyes narrowed, and she said in a stubborn tone, “I think it’s Holtz!”

  “Aw, come on, Rachel . . . !” he protested.

  “He’s a Nazi, Bix, and they’ve never changed! He’s just broadened his field—killing others besides Jews.” Then she tried to laugh and rose, saying, “I’m going crazy, Bix. I think we all are, so it doesn’t matter much, does it? On the whole, I’d rather die than lose my mind.” She stared at him, then shook her head, her heavy, black hair swinging. “Don’t trust anyone, Bix—not even the women!”

  Bix stared at her, his open face filled with confusion. “You think it could be one of them? No, I don’t believe it!”

  She gave him a sad smile. “I hope you can keep your simple faith in people, Bix, but I don’t think you will.” She left him, and he sat there, staring at the hole for a few moments. Throwing the chisel down, he left the kitchen and passed through the rec room, noticing that Savage was again peering out the vent. He found Holtz lying on his bunk and burst out, “I’m not working on that stupid hole anymore! We’re never going to get out of this thing alive!”

  Holtz had been staring up at the ceiling; now he turned to look carefully at Bix. Noting the clenched hands and the angry, worried expression, he swung his feet to the floor and sat there quietly for a moment. Finally he said, “Bix, once I said the same thing. We were under heavy depth-charge attack, our batteries were practically dead, and there was no place to run. I had no hope at all, but my young lieutenant—Schwartz was his name—kept making plans, doing useless things while the rest of us just waited for the end. I thought he was a fool! There we were, a hundred fathoms deeper than the boat was supposed to ever go, with water pouring in and depth charges going off all around us. And this young fellow just kept on working, trying switches, patching up holes—while the rest of us sat there waiting for the end.”

  He stopped, and when Bix saw that he was not going to speak again, he asked curiously, “How’d you get away?”

  “Why, I don’t kn
ow, Bix.” Holtz shrugged. “Maybe they ran out of charges. Maybe they got a call to go to another spot.” He smiled gently at the boy and continued, “But ever since then, I’ve learned one thing, my boy: Never give up! That’s what Churchill told the English. And that’s why they won the war, I suppose.” Before he left, Holtz put his hand on Bix’s shoulder. “If you give up on that hole, Bix, you’re finished!”

  “The old bird’s right, I guess.” Startled, Bix looked over and saw Vince Canelli, in the door to the bathroom, with a look of reluctant admiration on his tough face. “Once you quit, you are finished!”

  Holtz also noticed Savage staring out of the vent, when he passed through the rec room. As he left, Karen went to stand beside the rope. “Savage Aerial View Service open today?” she asked.

  Ben looked down at her and nodded, “Like I said, we never close.” He drew the rope up, tied a bowline in the end, and in a few minutes she was looking out of the vent. A blast of frigid air struck her, and she gasped, “That’s cold, Ben!”

  “Might get worse,” he commented. “They get some pretty bitter winters in this part of Arkansas, Lonnie says.” He held her while she scanned the horizon. Finally he asked, “You sure it’s safe to be alone with me up here? I might let you fall.”

  Suddenly her body grew tense, and she turned awkwardly to look at him. Ben thought that her mind was as hard and angular as her body was soft and yielding, for her blue eyes calculated his face with a clinical precision. Her lips made a long, wistful curve paralleling the smoothness of her jaw, but the barriers were up, and he remained still as she looked into his eyes.

  Karen noted the usually half-closed hazel eyes were fully open, regarding her with a frank curiosity. She became intensely aware of Ben’s masculinity, not only the strength of his arm and the rounded muscles of his neck and chest, but the rich virility imposed on his face.