1953 - The Things Men Do

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1953 - The Things Men Do Page 10

by James Hadley Chase


  "That's from Gloria with her compliments," Berry said.

  "So long, sucker," and he slammed the door.

  chapter eleven

  Ann got back soon after eleven o'clock the following morning.

  She came briskly down the garage to where I was working with Tim, putting on a new cylinder gasket.

  "I'll be up in about ten minutes," I said, waving my oily hands at her to show her I couldn't kiss her. "Did you get on all right?"

  "Yes, fine. Did you?"

  I knew she was looking searchingly at me, and I knew my white face with the dark shadows under my eyes I had seen when shaving this morning had given her a bit of a shock.

  "Had a night out with Bill. Got a head on me this morning, but I'm all right." I smiled at her, meeting her eyes.

  "I'll be up in a moment."

  She nodded to Tim, and then went on through the office and up the stairs.

  It took a little more than half an hour to fix the gasket.

  "That does it," I said, and picked up a lump of waste and wiped my hands on it. "I'll leave you to clean up. Don't forget to clean the tools."

  "No, Mr. Collins."

  I walked back to the office and lit a cigarette.

  Around nine-thirty in the morning, Berry had come in to relieve Joe, who had driven away in Berry's Humber. Berry hadn't looked in my direction. He bad locked himself in the partitioned room, and I hadn't seen him since then.

  My mouth was a little puffy where he had hit me, and I had two big purple bruises under my heart from Dix's punches.

  Outwardly I looked like a man who has had a late night and perhaps three or four drinks too many. Inwardly I was like a frozen block of stone.

  By betraying Ann I had landed myself into a trap from which there seemed to be no escape. If it wasn't for Ann, I might have been able to do something about it, but with Dix's threat to throw acid at her and to show her those pictures, I was ham-strung.

  Thinking about it, I realized now the trap had been sprung from the moment I had first met Gloria on Western Avenue. She must have followed me in the Buick when I had left the garage to go to Lewis's help out at Northolt, and had staged her breakdown where she knew I would have to pass her.

  If I had listened to Ann and to my own conscience I wouldn't be in this trap now. I had deliberately done the wrong thing, and now it looked as if both of us would have to pay for it.

  But oddly enough, I had got my second wind. Last night, after I had returned to the empty flat, I was nearly out of my mind with funk. I couldn't see any way out. At first I had decided the only thing I could do was to tell Ann the truth, then go to the police and tell them the whole sordid story and ask for protection.

  But the more I thought about it, the more impossible such a solution became. I knew I couldn't go to Ann and tell her I had broken my promise not to see Gloria again. I couldn't admit that I had been unfaithful to her. I had walked up and down the sitting-room until dawn, wracking my brains for a way out, and after a while I began to recover my nerve.

  I had been played for a sucker and I had been fooled all along the line. The realization of this made me viciously angry.

  The situation was now something personal between Dix and myself. I hated him as I had never thought it possible to hate anyone. I became determined to beat him at his own game. I had no idea how I was going to do it, but sooner or later, the chance must come and I would take it.

  I don't want you to imagine I have always been such a weak, despicable fool. Since the war, I admit I had become soft, but during the war, I had built for myself a reputation as an individual fighter. Then I had been pretty tough. When a patrol went out after prisoners I was always chosen to lead it.

  If there was a sentry to be silenced before a raid, I was given the job. Towards the end of the war Bill and I had been transferred to the Burma patrol where we specialized in ambushing and killing Japs. Killing became my business, and it was only when I got out of the Army and met Ann that I began to relax. Five years of marriage and civilian life had made me soft: one night in Dix's company had turned the clock back.

  I wasn't soft any longer. I wanted to kill Dix. Nothing less would satisfy me. He had got me into this trap. He was going to send that film throughout the poison spots of the world for degenerates to snigger at. He was forcing me to put Bill into danger. He had threatened to throw acid at Ann. By these four things he had given me the right to take his life.

  At the moment he held all the cards, but sooner or later, he must play one badly, and then I'd step in. In the meantime I had decided to let him imagine he had got me where he wanted me. I intended to lull his suspicions and wait for my chance, and when it came, I would take it.

  It was odd, too, that I had no misgivings about looking Ann in the face. The set-up was too serious for me to feel guilty about something that was already in the past, and which would never happen again. Her happiness and mine were involved now. I had got us into the trap, I had to get us out of it. It was now between Dix and myself. Ann didn't come into it.

  I went upstairs where Ann was preparing lunch. As I stood at the kitchen sink, washing my hands, I felt she was watching me anxiously. I turned to smile at her.

  "You look pale, Harry."

  "I feel pale," I said, wiping my hands on the roller-towel.

  "I don't think my supper agreed with me. It was too greasy and then I drank too much beer. Otherwise I'm fine."

  I knew she wanted to believe me, and the fact I could meet her eyes quieted her misgivings.

  "You look odd somehow, Harry. You remind me of how you used to look when we first met: tough and angry with the world."

  I laughed.

  "I'll be angry with you if you don't get my lunch ready."

  I slid my arm round her and hugged her.

  "Harry, when are those men going? Are they going to be here much longer?"

  "They've paid for a month, so I suppose they'll stay a month. I don't know."

  "Will you let them stay on after the end of the month?"

  I knew there was no chance of them staying on: they would probably be gone by next week.

  "Not if you don't want them to."

  "I know the money's important . . ."

  "Now, stop worrying your brains about them. Let's eat."

  After lunch I did something I had never done before. I crossed the street and walked into the sorting-office. I found myself in a big concrete floored shed full of mail vans. Men in brown overalls were piling mail bags into several of the vans.

  Everyone seemed busy, and for a minute or so no one noticed me.

  During that time I had looked around and summed up the geography of the place.

  "You can't come in here, mate. What do you want?"

  I turned. A short, thickset man in a brown overall was staring at me suspiciously.

  "Sorry," I said, grinning. "I was looking for Bill Yates. I'm from across the road: Harry Collins. Maybe Bill's told you about me."

  The short, thickset man's face cleared and he nodded.

  "That's right. Bill often mentions you. He's not around at the moment. It's his day off."

  "Of course it is! I remember now he told me last night. I'll be forgetting my own name next." I took out a packet of cigarettes and offered him one. "We painted the town red last night. Bill can still drink a dozen pints in a night."

  "Always could drink beer. My name's Harris." He took the cigarette and lit it. "He said you and he were going out last night."

  "I'm glad he's got promotion. He's just the man for the job."

  "He is at that," Harris said. "Used to be a boxer, didn't he? You can always tell by the look of a man if he's had the gloves on."

  "He was the light-heavy-weight champion of the Battalion. He might have gone far if he had taken it up professionally."

  "Doesn't talk a lot about himself, but I spotted he had done some boxing. Used to do a bit myself, but I never got anything out of it except a black eye."

  I laughe
d

  "Nor me. Is that Bill's new van over there?"

  "What? That old ruin? No fear, that's not Bill's bus. That's it over there; in Bay 6."

  "He was telling me about it. Well, I'd better get back. Sorry to have taken up your time. I should have remembered it was Bill's day off."

  "That's all right," Harris said, shaking hands. "I've heard a lot about you. Glad to have met you."

  I walked back to the garage, aware that Berry must have seen what had been going on from his vantage point at the window. I looked towards the window, but someone had covered it with a piece of muslin.

  Around six o'clock, Bill came in.

  "Got home all right?" he asked as he walked into the office.

  "Yes; did you?"

  "Just about made it. I've got some kippers here. How about Ann cooking them and us having supper together?''

  "All right. Take them up to her, and when you're through persuading her, come down. We might nip across the road for a beer."

  "That's an idea."

  He went upstairs.

  I knew he would assure Ann I had spent the night with him, and I was glad he had come in. After about ten minutes he came down again.

  "All under control. Let's go."

  I had already closed up the garage, and together we walked over to the Four Feathers that was next door to the sorting-office.

  "Two pints, Miss," Bill said to the barmaid and took the cigarette I offered him. He stared at me suddenly. "Blimey! You look a bit of wreck. What's happened to your mouth?"

  "Spanner slipped and nearly knocked my teeth out. It hurt at the time, but it's all right now. By the way, I met Harris this afternoon. He showed me your van."

  Bill looked surprised.

  "Did he? That's against regulations."

  "I forgot you weren't coming in today, and I asked for you. We got talking and I saw the van and asked him if it was yours."

  "Oh. Well, it doesn't matter. Got some gadgets in it we like to keep quiet about."

  "I didn't get within ten yards of it," I said, and laughed.

  "Do they equip you with a siren, Bill?"

  "An alarm bell; it works off the battery. If we run into trouble the first thing I have to do is to touch it off. Once it's started there's no stopping it. Good idea. It makes a hell of a racket."

  I had learned all I wanted to know now, and I changed the subject to cricket. Once launched on the possibilities of Middlesex winning the championship there was no stopping Bill.

  While he talked, I completed my plan of action. Granted a little luck, I didn't think it was going to be too difficult to put the alarm bell out of action. There was no question of not doing it. It was too early yet to make a false move. If I were going to beat Dix, I had to make him believe he had me cornered.

  I had to work hard during supper and until it was time for Bill to go, to keep pace with the conversation and to appear at ease. I had a lot on my mind, but I knew it would be fatal to let either Ann or Bill suspect that there was something wrong.

  It was with relief that I went downstairs to lock Bill out.

  Lights were still on in the sorting-office, and the big doors stood open.

  "You never seem to shut up for the night over there," I said as I stood on the kerb with Bill.

  "We don't shut up. Vans are always coming in and out Of course the rest of the place is shut up, but the garage remains open all the time."

  "Who looks after it?"

  "Harris has night duty this week. He's about the biggest milker we've got. He sleeps most of the night in his office. I've been in after midnight and I could have pinched a couple of vans under his very nose if I wanted to.

  "Who wants to steal a mail van?"

  "If it's empty they don't," Bill said, grinning. "That's what Harris is always saying. He says he'd wake up if anyone started one of the engines. I suppose he's right. Takes a little manoeuvring to get a van out of its bay. Well, I'm off home. So long, Harry."

  "See you tomorrow."

  "Not tomorrow. I've got another early morning rehearsal, worse luck. Look you up on Sunday."

  I watched him walk down the street towards the bus stop, then I shut the garage door and shot the bolts.

  Joe came out of the partitioned room.

  "How are you making out, pally?"

  "All right," I said curtly, and walked past him.

  He reached out and grabbed hold of my arm, pulling me round. The feel of his hand on me sent a vicious spurt of rage through me. I very nearly swung at him, but checked myself in time.

  "Ed will be in tomorrow afternoon. He expects some news from you," Joe said, his small eyes watchful.

  "He'll have some," I said, jerked free, and continued to the office.

  They were so sure they had me where they wanted me.

  All right, let them think that. Only let them make one slip, and then they'd soon find out I wasn't the sucker they imagined I was.

  Dix came in on Friday afternoon. I saw him swing the big Cadillac into the garage as I sat at my desk. I got up and went down the garage to meet him. He remained in the car.

  "Hop in, pally," he said. "Well go for a little run in the park."

  "Shan't be long, Tim," I said, opened the car door and got in.

  Dix drove swiftly down Regent Street, along Cockspur Street and through the Admiralty Arch into the park. He drove brilliantly, keeping on the move all the time, tie seemed to have an uncanny knack of beating the traffic lights, and his judgment of distances as he cut in through the traffic was hair raising.

  Neither of us said anything until we were rolling towards Buckingham Palace.

  "Got a plan yet, pally?"

  "Yes. When do I do it?"

  He shot a quick look at me. I saw surprise in his eyes.

  "Tonight. What's the plan?"

  "The sorting-office remains open all night. The man in charge sleeps most of the time. The van is at the far end of the garage away from his office. If he spots me I'll tell him I'm working late, made myself some tea and thought he would like a cup. I'll take tea with me in a vacuum flask. Then I'll clear out and try again. If he's asleep, I'll go straight to the van. I think I can get to the van without him seeing me. The alarm bell works from the car battery. It shouldn't be difficult to disconnect one of the leads."

  "Suppose they check the leads? That's not good enough. How about muffling the bell?"

  "Even if they check the leads they won't spot what I've done unless they test the bell itself. If they do that, muffling won't help either."

  "Okay. I'll leave it to you so long as you make a good job of it. I don't threaten twice. You know what'll happen to you if you play your cards wrong."

  "I know."

  "Now listen, pally, looks like the job is fixed for Sunday morning. I've had a tip the stuff will arrive at King's Cross about one o'clock Sunday morning. I'm telling you this so you'll be ready to handle the cops when they come, and they'll come to you, make no mistake about that. As soon as we've pulled the job, the heat's going to be tuned on good. The cops will take the town to pieces. Sooner or later, they'll come to you to find out if you've seen anything. Well, keep your trap shut. You're in this as much as I am now."

  "Tim Greensleeves might tell them you three have been in and out of the garage."

  "That's up to you. You've got to keep the cops away from him If he talks, those art pictures are going to be put in the post."

  "I'll take care of him."

  "That's the idea, pally. Handle this right and by Monday morning, you'll have seen the last of us. Talk out of turn, slip up somewhere, and I'll fix you so you won't forget me in a hurry."

  "I won't slip up."

  He slowed down.

  "Okay. This is as far as you go. So long, pally. It's been nice and profitable meeting you. I don't reckon to see you again. For your sake I hope I don't."

  I walked slowly up Eagle Street, my mind busy.

  Somehow I had to get Bill out of the way. If the hold-up was to tak
e place on Sunday morning I had to make certain Bill wasn't on the van. Whatever happened to me, I didn't intend he should run into any danger. I had no idea who would take his place, and I didn't care, but I had made up my mind he wasn't going to run into Dix and his mob.

  But my first job was to fix the alarm bell. Ann, of course, was the major snag in an otherwise fairly easy job. I couldn't tackle the bell until after midnight, and she would wonder what I was up to.

  As luck would have it a Vanguard had come in while I was out to have its brakes adjusted.

  I told Ann the Vanguard had carburettor trouble, and I might have to work late.

  "The chap's going away tomorrow on holiday, and I promised to fix it for him," I said as she served up supper. "I don't know how long it'll take me, but it may be some time."

  After supper I went down to the garage and took off the carburettor. I got a length of copper tubing and began to bore a hole through it. I was still fiddling about with the tubing when Ann came down about ten forty-five to see how I was getting on.

  "I'll be a couple of hours yet. The whole set-up's gone haywire. You go to bed, darling. I'll be up as soon as I've finished."

  "Would you like me to make you some tea?"

  "Not now. I might make some myself later. You go on to bed. The longer we stay nattering the longer I'm going to be."

  "All right, Harry. I'll have my bath and come down again."

  "Don't do that. I'd rather work without interruption. This damn thing's tricky."

  "All right. I don't suppose I'll be asleep when you come up."

  A few minutes past midnight I went quietly upstairs and put the kettle on. The light in the bedroom was cut, and I decided thankfully that Ann was asleep. I made some tea and filled a vacuum flask, then I went downstairs again. I put a screwdriver and a pair of pliers in pocket, and taking the vacuum flask with me, I unbolted he garage door and looked across the street at the lighted doorway leading to the sorting-office.

  Joe suddenly appeared in the doorway of tip, partitioned room.

  "He must be asleep," he said. "I haven't seen a sign of him for the past hour."

  I grunted, and moved out on to the pavement.

  Eagle Street was deserted.

  Moving quietly I crossed the street, my rubber-soled shoes making no sound. I walked into the sorting-office.

 

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