1953 - The Things Men Do

by James Hadley Chase

  I had no intention of being spotted so early in the game, so I changed direction and began to crawl towards the front of the house.

  I kept on until I had a good view of the front windows, I spotted Joe and Louis in the room by the front door. They were sitting at a table, eating lunch.

  Satisfied that I stood little chance of being seen, I retraced my steps to the back of the house, crossed the path to the open window and peered in.

  The room was small and empty of furniture, and dust lay thickly on the floorboards. I swung my leg over the sill and climbed quietly into the room. Crossing over to the door, I turned the handle and very carefully eased the door open. I looked into a long passage that connected the front door with the back door.

  From the front room I heard a murmur of voices, but the door was closed and I couldn't hear what was being said. I moved out into the passage. To my left was a flight of stairs that led to the upper rooms. I decided it would be safer to be upstairs than down. I moved swiftly to the stairs and began to mount them. Halfway up I trod on a loose board that let out a squeaking creak that jerked my heart into my mouth. I took the rest of the stairs two at a time on tip-toe, and had just reached the landing, out of sight of the hall, when I heard the front room door jerk open.

  "Didn't you hear something?" Louis asked, a quaver in his voice. "It sounded as if someone was in the house."

  "For the love of Mike, pipe down," Joe growled. "You're as jumpy as a kangaroo. This damned house is full of rats. I saw one as big as a cat in the kitchen."

  "A rat wouldn't make that noise. It sounded. . . ."

  "Aw, shut up! Go and have a look if you're that scared."

  "I keep thinking of Berry."

  "Think his ghost is here?" Joe sneered and laughed.

  "You don't have to worry about him. He's dead by now."

  "We shouldn't have left him, Joe. That was a hell of a thing to do."

  "I didn't stop you. You could have stayed and held his hand if you wanted to. Why didn't you? You were the first out of his place. You couldn't get out fast enough."

  "We should have brought him here."

  "Don't talk wet. His back was broken. We couldn't have brought him all this way. He would have screamed his head off. We were crazy to have taken him back to his fiat. We should have put a bullet through his head and left him in the street."

  I heard Louis walk back into the room.

  "I wouldn't have stood for that Joe."

  "It's because you've been so damned chicken-hearted about Berry we're in this mess now. When a guy breaks his back, he's had it. Ed would have shot him, but no, you wouldn't wear it. Okay, now we wonder where Ed is. If we had stuck together instead of rushing off to Queen's Avenue, he would have been with us now."

  "What are we going to do if he doesn't show up?"

  "What do you think? We get out at ten tonight whether he's here or not."

  "Maybe Hacket won't take us without Ed."

  "You leave Hacket to me. He'll take us," Joe said grimly.

  "Shut that damned door and come and finish your grub."

  I heard the door shut and their voices died to a murmur.

  At least, I learned something. Dix wasn't here, but there were expecting him, and they were due off tonight at ten.

  I wondered about Dix. If his face had been stained blue as Rawson suggested, then I couldn't see how he could get to the farm. Every policeman in the district would be on the lookout for him. The chances were he would hide up somewhere in London.

  I put him out of my mind for the moment, and moving very cautiously, I explored the upstairs rooms. The front room, over the room Joe and Louis were in, offered the most likely hiding place. It still contained some furniture: a bed, a cupboard, grimy curtains at the window and a plush covered arm-chair with the springs on the floor.

  The cupboard was large enough for me to stand in, and I left it open so I could step inside if I heard anyone coming.

  I went over to the window which overlooked the drive in and the white farm gate. I could see some way down the lane.

  As I stood looking down the drive, Joe and Louis came out and walked towards the gate.

  Moving quickly I went into the passage, and looked at the other room on the same landing.

  In a small back room I found a suitcase, lying on a bed. I tried the catch and it flew up. I opened the case. Among a jumble of clothes were twenty or thirty wash-leather bags. I undid the string around one of them and peered inside. It contained a handful of small diamonds. A quick examination of three other of the little bags told me this was part of the loot from the mail van.

  I closed the case and snapped down the lock, then I stood hesitating, wondering what I should do.

  The sound of footsteps in the hall made me move silently to the door and into the passage.

  "One of us ought to go into the village and get a newspaper," Joe was saying. "We ought to know what's going on."

  "Then you go," Louis said sharply. "I'm not moving from here until the plane arrives."

  "Maybe there'll be news of Ed," Joe said.

  "Maybe there will. If you're so anxious for news, get the paper yourself."

  "I'd go if I was sure the papers had something," Joe said.

  "Come to think of it, they must have been printing when we pulled the job."

  "That's what I call a bright brain," Louis sneered. "Did you think I was going to fall for that wet gag?"

  "What are you getting at?"

  "I'm not all that of a mug. I'm not leaving you alone here with all those diamonds. They might get up and walk."

  "You're crazy!" Joe's voice sharpened with anger.

  "Where do you imagine I'd go?"

  "I don't know and don't care. There's a hundred thousand pounds' worth of diamonds up there, and there's the car in the barn. I'm taking damn good care neither the diamonds nor the car moves out of here."

  "Aw, shut up! You make me sick "

  "I hate those diamonds being out of my sight for a minute. I'm going up to look at them now."

  I moved quietly along the passage to the front room. As I stepped into the cupboard I heard Louis and Joe mounting the stairs.

  "You wouldn't trust your own mother," Joe said angrily.

  "Oh, yes I would. She's dead," Louis returned. "I trust dead people so long as I'm sure they're dead."

  As they came along the passage, I pulled the cupboard door shut, and my hand went into my pocket and closed over the butt of the gun.

  I heard them go into the back room.

  "Well, I hope you're satisfied," Joe said.

  "We'd look a couple of mugs if Ed has already skipped.

  He's got the bulk of the stuff," Louis said, coming back along the passage. "What's to stop him meeting Hacket some other place and leaving us flat?"

  "How's he going to get into touch with Hacket, you dope?" Joe growled. "Pipe down! I'm sick of listening to you belly aching."

  I heard the door of the room in which I was hiding, pushed open.

  "What do you expect to find in here?" Joe went on.

  "Just checking," Louis said as he crossed the room to the window. He passed a foot from where I stood, hidden by the cupboard door.

  "Come on, for the love of mike. It's like an oven in this house. Let's park under the trees."

  "Might as well," Louis said as he recrossed the room. I leaned against the back of the cupboard, holding my breath, expecting him to open the cupboard, but he didn't. "All this hanging about's driving me nuts."

  I heard them go down the stairs and I stepped out of the cupboard and crossed over to the window. My heart was banging against my ribs. That had been a little too close for my liking.

  I saw the two men, each carrying a couple of bottles of beer, walk through the long grass to the shade of a big elm tree. They sat down with their backs to it. They had a clear view of the front of the house, but were out of sight of anyone who happened to pass the farm gate. They lit cigarettes, and Joe opened one of the b
ottles and took a long pull.

  I moved away from the window and stood thinking for a moment or so. Then I walked quickly along the passage to the back room where the suitcase was.

  I looked out of the window.

  Just below was the flat roof of the kitchen. I pushed up the window and got out on to the roof. Below the grass was thick and tall. I decided it would make a thick enough carpet to deaden the sound of the suitcase if I dropped it from the roof.

  I climbed into the room again and carried the case to the window and lowered it gently on to the roof. Then I got out on to the roof myself and lowered the window.

  I stretched myself flat on the roof, holding the case in my hand and let it hang the length of my arm in space. It had about six feet to fall to reach the ground. Would they hear it? If they did and if they came round the side of the house quickly I would be trapped before I could get under cover. I had to take the risk and I opened my fingers and let the case drop.

  It landed in the thick grass with a thud, but I didn't think the sound would carry to the front of the house.

  Then I swung my legs over the roof, and holding on to the drain pipe, I slithered down.

  I had to make sure they hadn't heard me before I attempted to move the case farther, and I crept along the path, keeping to the side of the house, the gun in my hand, until I reached a point where I could see the front garden.

  Some fifty yards from me, Joe and Louis continued to lounge in the shade. Louis was smoking and Joe was taking another pull from his bottle of beer.

  I retreated back out of sight, paused for a moment to wipe my face and hands with my handkerchief, then returned to where the suitcase was lying.

  I carried it across the kitchen garden to the gap in the hedge, leading into the paddock, and dumped it by the gap.

  I don't suppose more than a minute or so had elapsed since I had heaved the case out of the window. I slid the case through the gap, crawled through myself and laid it in the deep ditch on the other side of the hedge. The long grass closed over it.

  Satisfied that it couldn't be found unless someone actually walked on it, I crawled back through the gap and went around to the side of the house to see if Joe and Louis had moved.

  Louis was now stretched flat on his back, his hat ever his eyes. He appeared to be asleep.

  Joe smoked, his back resting against the tree, his eyes in a fixed stare on the farm gates.

  I thought with grim satisfaction what a shock they would get when they went upstairs for the suitcase. The first move in my plan had worked out successfully.

  There was nothing more for me to do now but to wait as Joe and Louis were waiting.

  I settled down in the long grass, lying flat, in a position where I could watch the two men.

  The red-faced pub keeper had been right when he had said it was going to be a hot afternoon. As the hands of my wrist-watch crawled on, the heat of the sun increased. There wasn't a breath of air in the sheltered garden. I could see Joe was having difficulty keeping awake. He stretched and yawned and mopped his sweating face, and every now and then, he looked at his watch.

  Two hours crawled by. Then at five minutes past four, I heard a sound that stiffened me to attention: the sound of an approaching car. Joe heard it too for he reached out and shook Louis.

  The two men started to their feet and ducked back behind the elm tree. Both of them pulled out their guns. They waited.

  I half rose to my feet, keeping behind an overgrown shrub. I was aware of a tense feeling of excitement. Was this the moment I had been waiting for?

  The car came on. Then a horn sounded three sharp blasts.

  The two men came out from behind the tree and ran down the drive to the gate.

  I moved out of my hiding-place, crossed a patch of bare ground ahead of me in three strides, and ducked behind the elm tree they had just left. From there I had a good view of the drive. Dix's big Cadillac swung through the gateway as Joe opened the gate.

  Gloria was at the wheel, but I couldn't see anyone else in the car.

  "Where the hell's Ed?" Joe demanded as Gloria pulled up.

  She jerked her thumb to the back of the car, opened the car door and slid along the bench seat to the ground.

  As she did so I saw a rug tossed aside and a man's head and shoulders appeared from behind the driving-seat.

  It was Dix.

  chapter eighteen

  In the hard sunlight, Dix looked grotesque and frightening as he got stiffly out of the car. Both Joe and Louis took a quick step back when they saw his face. It was stained a violent sky blue, and it looked like some gruesome mask you might dream about in a nightmare.

  "For God's sake, Ed!" Joe gasped. "Haven't you got that stuff off your face yet?"

  "Shut up!" Dix snarled. He seemed beside himself with rage. "Get the car into the barn. Snap it up! We don't want anyone to spot us here."

  "No one's passed all day," Louis said. He was staring at Dix curiously. "What happened to you? We've been waiting and waiting . . ."

  "Get that car out of sight!" Dix said violently. "Here, Gloria . . ." He turned and put out his hand.

  She moved over to him. I saw her look at Joe and shake her head slightly. She took Dix's arm.

  "Get him a drink, Joe. He's had a bad time."

  "You're not hurt, are you, Ed?" Joe asked, staring at him "I'm all right. Get me a drink, damn you!" Dix snarled.

  Louis got into the car and drove it over to the barn.

  "It's as hot as hell in the house," Joe said. He glanced at Gloria, raising his eyebrows. "Go and sit over there in the shade."

  Dix hooked his fingers in his collar and pulled savagely.

  "I sweated blood in the goddam car."

  "Come on, Ed," Gloria said. "Well sit down. Hurry with that drink, Joe."

  Joe set off at a run.

  Dix and Gloria came towards the tree behind which I was hiding. Quietly I slid back into the long grass and lay flat. They sat down with their backs to the tree. I wasn't more than ten feet from them.

  "How are your eyes now, Ed?" Gloria asked, and she looked searchingly at him.

  Dix pulled off his coat. Under the coat he wore a shoulder holster. He put his hand on the gun butt and eased the gun in the holster.

  "Not too good. I'm glad I shot that bastard. He had it coming to him." He reached out and caught hold of Gloria's wrist. "You're going to stick by me, aren't you, Gloria? I don't trust those other two."

  "Don't talk like that," Gloria said. "They're all right. You couldn't help it, Ed. It could have happened to anyone."

  "That doesn't answer my question," Dix said. His grip tightened on her wrist and I saw her bite her lip to stop from crying out.

  "You're hurting me," she said. "You don't have to ask. Of course I'll stick by you. I love you, Ed."

  "Do you? I sometimes wonder. You never liked that movie set-up of mine, did you?"

  "No, but I got paid for it. I'd do anything for you, Ed. You know that."

  He showed his teeth in a mirthless grin.

  "You stick to me, Gloria, and you won't regret it. There's still some money left; I'II give you a good time in Paris. Just watch those other two. I don't trust them."

  "Joe's coming now," she said in a whisper.

  Joe came over the grass carrying a bottle of Scotch, glasses and a siphon of soda. Louis joined him. They sat down a few feet from him.

  "What happened to Berry?" Dix demanded.

  "We took him to his flat," Joe said. He poured out a big whisky, splashed in soda and offered it to Dix.

  "Is he dead?" Dix said. He paid no attention to the glass of whisky.

  "Here—don't you want your drink?"

  Dix put out his hand. His fingers groped six or seven inches from Joe's hand. Joe put the drink into the questing fingers and looked at Gloria, his face startled.

  "Is he dead?" Dix repeated.

  "He must be by now."

  "What do you mean—by now?" Dix snarled. "Didn't you finish hi
m?"

  "He was dying," Louis said indignantly, "There was no need for that."

  Dix slopped his drink as he half started up.

  "You spineless fools! He knew our plans! You mean you left him within reach of a telephone? Do you imagine he'll keep his trap shut?"

  "He couldn't move," Joe growled. "I wouldn't have left him if I hadn't been sure he couldn't get help. Take it easy, Ed. It's okay. He's dead by now."

  "You should have put a slug through his head."

  "Someone would have heard the shot. You don't have to worry about him, Ed. Take it easy."

  "You make me puke. You could have smothered him or opened his veins . . ."

  Gloria put her hand on his arm.

  "Don't talk that way, Ed."

  Dix pulled away from her. He drank the whisky, dropped the glass on to the grass, and fumbled for a cigarette.

  "Why haven't you got that stuff off your face yet, Ed?"

  Louis asked, after a long pause.

  "I can't get it off!" Dix said furiously. "Do you think I haven't tried? What the hell do you drink I've been doing all this time? I've scrubbed my goddam face until it's raw. I can't shift it!"

  There was a sudden sharp silence.

  "But you can't go round with a face like that," Joe said slowly. "They'll spot you a mile off, and if we're with you, they'll spot us too."

  "Shut your trap! I tell you I can't get it off. It's some chemical. It'll have to wear off."

  "Well, that's fine," Louis said sarcastically. "How long do you reckon it'll take to wear off?"

  "How do I know? Shut up talking about it!"

  Again there was a tense silence, then Joe said, "What happened to you after you left us, Ed?"

  "Don't keep asking me questions," Dix snarled. "Ask her if you must know: she'll tell you." He got uneasily to his feet. "I want some sleep. I've been on the go since last night. Is there a bed in there?"

  "I'll show you," Louis said, getting to his feet.

  Dix reached out and caught hold of Louis's arm.

  "My eyes hurt," he said. "Some of that stuff I got on my face got into my eyes."

  I heard Joe draw in a sharp, quick breath.

  "You mean you can't see, Ed?"

  "I can see all right. It just smarts." He wouldn't let go of Louis's arm. "Come on. Show me a bed."