Negative of a Nude

by Charles E. Fritch

  She didn’t answer, and suddenly she didn’t have to. Suddenly, I remembered something I should have remembered a long time ago. In a great burst the knowledge came, and I knew the answer to something that had been bothering me for some time.

  “Mark, Mark, Mark—” Eloise was saying.

  And I heard the sound of the bedroom door slowly opening.

  Chapter Thirteen

  BY THE TIME I got free of Eloise and put my hand on my gun, an army could have marched through the bedroom door.

  An army didn’t, but Harvey Dutton did. That was enough. He was standing in the open doorway, watching me. It was an awkward situation, and one reason I never fooled around with a married woman. Harvey had another reason in his hand. A revolver.

  “Don’t you ever knock?” Eloise said, annoyed.

  “Not in my own house,” he said.

  Eloise sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on her scanty costume and looking quite irritated at the interruption.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself,” she said.

  “Me?” Harvey laughed at that. “I should be ashamed? Your sense of values, my dear Eloise, could stand some revamping.

  And then I got it. “You’ve lost your western accent,” I pointed out.

  He shrugged and smiled. “It comes and it goes,” he said. “There’s no need for it at the moment. I don’t have to impress you with the fact that I’m just a rich country bumpkin.” He was right about that. He was impressing me just by standing there with that gun pointing at my chest. It seemed strange to hear the king’s English being spoken when he still looked like he was home on the range. The next thing he said surprised me more.

  “Cherry,” he called.

  Cherry Collins came into view behind him.

  “Well,” I said, trying to appear calm, “this is getting to be just like old home week.”

  “Isn’t it, though,” Harvey said, “and we’re going to have ourselves a little party to celebrate it. Get his gun, Cherry.”

  Cherry got my gun in a very businesslike manner, then returned to Harvey’s side.

  “How long have you been in the heroin business, Harvey?” I asked him.

  “Quite a few years,” he admitted. “It’s been profitable. You might say I have a captive market. You know how that is, Wonder.”

  “Yes,” I said. Once a fish was hooked, he’d do anything to stay on the string. Better death than going without. “Eloise was telling me she knows who has the pictures.”

  “We needn’t worry about the pictures. I’ve decided to remove the need for paying blackmail. Eloise has always been a nuisance chasing anything in pants. This is a good chance to get rid of that nuisance.”

  Eloise started from the bed. “Harvey—”

  “Stay where you are, Eloise my pet,” Harvey said. “Be a good girl, and maybe it won’t hurt.”

  “You plan on doing it to Eloise the same way you did to Jake Richey?”

  “A poor guess, Wonder. Cherry did the honors on that, with a little .25 automatic which we plan on planting in your apartment along with some stuff from Jake’s safe. By the way, Jake was one of my pushers—ah, that surprises you, doesn’t it. Here’s something else that may surprise you, Edie was working for me, too.”

  “You’re a liar!” Gun or no gun, if he were just a couple of feet closer—

  Harvey shrugged. “Anyway, Jake was thinking of double-crossing me. Fortunately, he didn’t have the chance. Cherry is an ambitious young lady. She made him give her practically everything he had in his will, and then she killed him.”

  “Ambitious is not the word,” I said.

  “And here’s a touch that will amuse you, Wonder. Cherry found out about you from Jake. She discovered you were an ex-junkie, and she told me about you. It all fitted in very nicely, so we could blame you for everything. The pornographic pictures of Eloise called for a private detective. A private detective who was once on dope fitted into my other plans very nicely.”

  “It was nice of me to be so available, wasn’t it?”

  “It was, and we’re all so very grateful. I knew that sooner or later Eloise would have you up here. All I had to do was wait. When Cherry phoned me that you’d discovered some party favors in her apartment, I suspected you’d be coming over here next. So I went back and picked her up, this time with the Cadillac, so you and Dody could have fun at the beach—a sort of last fling for you—and Cherry and I came back here and waited until nature took its course.”

  “I have friends in the police department, Dutton,” I lied. “They’ll get you for this.”

  “I doubt both those statements, Wonder. Perhaps you don’t see the picture. We’re going to pump your veins full of heroin, then we’re going to strangle my little prairie flower here—” an involuntary gasp from Eloise, and I didn’t blame her—“and then a bullet or two in you to make the job complete. It’s simple. I came home and found a junkie had killed and raped my wife, so I shot him. What homicide could be more justifiable than that—especially with your reputation?” He smiled. “Do you see the picture now?”

  I didn’t smile back. I saw the picture all right, and it didn’t look pretty. I knew without a doubt that he had every chance in the world to get away with it.

  Somehow, I had to change that picture. I had to stall. Maybe the Marines would land, in the form of Paul Williams or a reasonable facsimile. I doubted it, though. I was sure I hadn’t been followed from Ocean Park. Paul had a dead Orangutan to take of. Nevertheless, I had no desire to leave this world and let Lieutenant MacPherson think he’d been right about me all along. Or to leave it at all, for that matter.

  “Give Eloise a break,” I said. “She couldn’t help herself.”

  “Eloise, dead, is an integral part of my plans, Wonder. Alive, she’s merely a nuisance.”

  “Is Cherry a part of your plans, too?”

  Dutton smiled and put an affectionate arm about Cherry’s waist. “Certainly you shouldn’t have to ask that, Wonder. Cherry and I have seen a lot of each other during the past few months. We intend seeing a lot more of each other during the next years. Love, you know.”

  “I’ve heard of it,” I said. “One thing I don’t get, Dutton. Why did you try to stick me with a needle in Cherry’s apartment? That was a bit pre—”

  His puzzled look stopped me.

  “I forgot to tell you about that,” Cherry supplied, talking to Harvey. “Mr. Private Eye came over to my apartment, and I drugged him, then tried to inject him with the stuff. I figured a needle mark a little older than the one we planned on giving him would make the cops figure he’d started the habit a while ago.”

  Harvey nodded, considering it. “You took a big chance there, but I can see the logic in it. You’re a smart girl, Cherry.”

  I silently agreed with him on that. But if it weren’t Harvey in that closet it could have been only one other person. I wondered if Cherry had told Harvey about the Abernathy film, or did she have a multitude of little operations going on the side?

  Harvey pulled a yellow party favor from his pocket and handed it to Cherry. “Get the stuff ready,” he told her.

  Cherry nodded and left the room. During that time I glanced at Eloise on the bed. She was very still, silent, watching Harvey with hatred in her eyes. She seemed a lot calmer than I felt.

  Cherry returned with a spoonful of water. She unrolled the party favor and poured the white powder from it into the spoon. Then she took a cigarette lighter from her pocket, lit it. The spoon went over the flame of the lighter, and the powder dissolved swiftly. It was a familiar sight, one I’d managed to forget except for dreams. The hypo was dipped in the liquid, the liquid drawn up the tube. They didn’t bother with a filter.

  I woke from my trance. If I were going to do something instead of just standing there and getting needled, I’d better find out what, and in a hurry. Cherry had my gun, and Cherry would probably inject the fluid in me, since she had the needle. If I could grab Cherry and the gun I’d have a fighting
chance. If I couldn’t, I didn’t have a chance at all.

  Cherry held the needle up, squeezed the plunger until a bare drop of liquid glistened on the point. She looked at me, then at Harvey. It wasn’t plain water this time. “I—I’d rather you did it, Harvey,” she said. “I’ll cover you.”

  Harvey was irritated and impatient, but there was also a gleam of anticipation on his face. He put his weapon in his pocket and took the needle from Cherry, who held my own .38 on me.

  “Okay, Wonder, roll up your sleeve.”

  I did that, meanwhile readjusting my plans. Harvey came toward me, the needle poised like a knight’s lance. It was trickier this way, but I had no choice.”

  “You’re a fool, Harvey,” I said, smiling. “Okay, Cherry, get him!”

  Harvey stopped puzzled, then he turned quickly to Cherry, who hadn’t moved. In that instant I leaped at him, clawing at the gun in his pocket, hoping Cherry wouldn’t fire for fear of hitting him.

  I didn’t get the gun, but I got Harvey off balance, and we went down on the floor together. The hypodermic needle flew from his hand and clattered across the floor. We rolled and Harvey came up on top, crushing the wind from me. He raised his ham of a hand and brought it down. I ducked, and the blow landed on the carpeting.

  Harvey howled and I rolled him off me and got up. He was fumbling for his gun when I slammed a fist into his stomach and buried it there. He doubled up but recovered swiftly and brought a knee into my groin. It was my turn to double up, and then a fist shot into the back of my neck and I went down.

  I could almost feel the hypo sliding into my arm, the fluid jetting into my blood, the living death starting over again. I bounced back in desperation and put everything I had into a clout across the chops. It staggered him. I followed it with a left to the stomach, then a right uppercut that sent him reeling away from me.

  The roar of the gun was loud in my ears, and I realized that apart from Harvey as I was I made a fine target. Except I wasn’t the target. Harvey stood bracing himself against the wall looking puzzled and unbelieving at the small hole in his shirt and the widening circle of blood that surrounded it. Then he slid down the wall and didn’t move.

  I turned angrily to Cherry. “I could have done without that,” I said. “You didn’t have to shoot him.”

  “Stay where you are, Mark,” Cherry warned.

  I stayed where I was. “What’s the gag?”

  “The gag’s on Harvey,” she said, smiling. “Isn’t that right, Eloise?”

  Eloise joined her. “That’s right.” She glared at Harvey. “The pig!”

  “I see,” I said, though I didn’t really, except in a general way. “We’ve got ourselves a new picture.”

  “Sure,” Cherry admitted. “Like to hear it?”

  “Love to,” I said.

  “All right, but first pick up the hypo.”

  I stared at her.

  She thumbed back the hammer on my revolver. “The hypo, please?”

  It was on the carpeting a few feet away. I stopped and picked it up.

  “Okay, now inject yourself.”

  I shook my head.

  “I killed Jake Richey and it didn’t bother me a bit. I just killed Harvey Dutton and it bothered me even less. What makes you think I’d hesitate killing you?”

  I didn’t have an answer for that one.

  “Do it,” Cherry commanded.

  I did it. I slipped the needle under the skin and pushed the plunger.

  Cherry smiled in satisfaction. “That’s a good boy,” she said. “Now, here’s what we have in mind for you. Harvey was in dope traffic, you were an addict who’d started on the habit again. You killed Jake Richey for money to buy heroin. You and Harvey had a disagreement and shot each other. Clever?”

  “Do we have to?” Eloise said. “I mean, kill him? Couldn’t we just blame him?”

  Cherry was annoyed with this bit of humanity. “If he’s dead he can’t talk against us, you know that.”

  Eloise nodded. I was glad to see I almost had one friend in this world anyway. I got the picture all right. With me out of the way and blamed for everything in sight, Cherry would collect on Jake’s death, the pictures of Abernathy, and probably get a cut of Harvey’s estate and insurance money.

  She’d also have a narcotics business all set up. It was an ambitious undertaking. Undertaking was the word for it, all right.

  “Are you on the stuff personally, Cherry?” I asked. “Or do you just keep the heroin around your apartment for guests?”

  “You’re awfully curious for a guy who’s not going anywhere,” she said. “I tried it a couple of times for relaxation. It worked fine. I didn’t think I’d get hooked, but now that I have, it doesn’t matter. I was afraid I’d have to quit stripping. Now I’m glad I can quit. I’ll have an unlimited supply of heroin and money. That’s a good combination.”

  Eloise was fidgeting. “When—when are we going to—to kill him?” she asked.

  I was sorry she’d brought that up, because Cherry answered, “Right now!” and pulled the trigger.

  I tensed to jump. But before I could move, Dody Dutton in a pair of flowered pajamas came barreling into the room with a shotgun, shouting, “Okay, everybody, don’t move. Reach for the sky!”

  Nobody did this, but Cherry swung around and I took a leap at her. Her gun went off, there was an outcry from Eloise, and then the gun in Cherry’s hand numbed my face. She slipped from my grasp and ran from the room. I could hear her heels hammering down the stairs.

  “Dody,” I gasped, “are you all right?”

  “Sure,” Dody panted, “but Eloise—”

  Eloise was slumped beside the bed, moaning and holding a bleeding breast. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, Mark. I was looking for a weapon. I found this but I couldn’t find any bullets for it.”

  “Never mind that,” I said. “Call an ambulance. And the police. Where are the keys to your car?”

  “I’ll get them,” she said, running.

  She hurried back. I took the keys and rushed from the room. “Be careful, Mark,” Dody called after me.

  I ran down the stairs. Careful? Of what? As far as I was concerned, there was no problem. It was a familiar feeling. I felt like: what the hell, who cares if Cherry was in her car getting away. But a rational part of me answered: I care, that’s who cares. And I forced myself down the stairs and across Grand Central Station to the front doorway and out into the cool, dark evening.

  The gold Cad was missing. I got into Dody’s sports car, stuck the keys into the ignition, and flamed the motor to life. It roared like a muted banshee to my clouded ears. I released the emergency brake, floored the accelerator, let the clutch pop. Fortunately, I was in second gear, and while the motor bucked it kept going and I made it around the driveway corner onto the dark road. My lights picked up the curving road lined with trees, and the car picked up speed.

  The turns came leaping at me, and I swung around with them, pulling at the wheel, making the tires squeal, the car drift toward the trees. I leaded my foot into the accelerator pedal and thought of another night I’d felt like this, calm, deliberate, my senses dulled into thinking I had perfect control of myself. Another night on another road in another car. Edie working with Jake, I thought. It couldn’t be. And yet, I recalled times it could have been.

  I forgot about it as I saw the finned tail lights of Cherry’s car in the road ahead of me, disappearing around a turn. I’d have to hurry. I hurried. In her ungainly car, Cherry had to slow down for turns. I didn’t. If I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t have anyway. But I didn’t, so I didn’t.

  The car drifted and squealed, drifted and squealed. And in a matter of minutes I was on Cherry’s tailpipe. I leaned on the horn, and she must have floored the gas pedal because the Cad shot toward the waiting turn.

  She didn’t make it.

  The front of the car started around the bend, but the rear didn’t follow; it made a path of its own down the dark clumps of trees be
side the road. The car protested its way sideways across the road, hit the edge, tumbled on its back, rolled and hit the trees on the driver’s side.

  I slammed on my own brakes and spun dizzily to the opposite side of the road. The car stopped and the motor stalled. It was quiet now. The night was quiet. The car lying on its side, wrecked, was quiet.

  I sat there and thought about my past sins and wondered about my future ones. Heroin was wandering through me, making me feel calm and secure about things that held no calmness, no security.

  Soon the calmness would wear off. I’d been off dope now for two years, and chances are I wouldn’t have to go through a complete withdrawal. There would be the craving, the need, the itching of the skin, maybe the annoyance of sneezing and eyes watering. It would be so easy to cure these symptoms—for awhile anyway—with the party favor in my pocket. And then maybe I could be calm again to think about what I should do.

  There was a siren fading in from the distance. I started the car again and swung back onto the road, downhill. There was work to do.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I RANG THE doorbell. It was in the wee hours of the morning, so it would be awhile before anyone answered. But I had all the time in the world. I rang the doorbell again.

  I heard a light click on inside, then the doorknob turned, and the door swung open to the end of its night chain. A sleepy face peered out at me.

  “Mark!” Lenny said, coming awake all at once.

  “Let me in, Lenny,” I said. “I’ve got a problem.”

  “Sure, Mark, sure,” Lenny said, “just a second.”

  He closed the door and scraped the chain open. The door went wide again to reveal Lenny in a pair of pajamas and a tousled bathrobe with the cord tied loosely about his middle.

  “I hate to bother you, Lenny, but it is important.”

  “That’s okay, Mark. A free-lance photog can always sleep late.” He closed the door. “Care for some coffee?”

  “No thanks.” I sat down in a chair.

  “What’s the problem?” he said, sitting on the couch opposite.