Hell Hath No Fury Part 15

I had to admit she was right, in spite of my impatience.

We couldn't let somebody else take charge of the books until they were in order. I thought of the twelve thousand dollars buried in that old barn, just sitting there, and wanted to go right out and dig it up and pay off the whole fifteen hundred dollars at once. It didn't take much thought, however, to throw that out. It wouldn't do. And it might be very dangerous. In the first place, how could I explain to her where I'd suddenly got hold of that much money? And worse than that, I couldn't be absolutely sure the Sheriff had been lying when he'd said the bank had the serial numbers of it. It would be suicide to try to run the stuff right back through the same bank it'd come out of, and this soon afterwards. I'd just be asking for it. That money was going to stay there a long time, maybe for years, and when it went back into circulation it would be a long way from here. I'd have to think of something. But I didn't worry about it; I had plenty of time.

At odd moments I did some digging back into sales records on the lot, and I could see that even if I couldn't build it up I'd still clear five or six hundred dollars a month with the commissions and the salary he was paying me. And I was working on a number of ideas for whooping sales up if we could get the cars. There wasn't too much live compet.i.tion around here, even in the county seat, and with some advertising and good promotion to stir it up there was no reason we couldn't nearly double the business.

The hardest part, of course, was going to be the waiting. We added it all up, and by pooling every nickel we'd make and could spare it would still take until sometime in November to get it all paid off. We wouldn't have anything left to start with, but I'd have a good job and somehow we'd sc.r.a.pe up enough for at least a week's honeymoon in Galveston.

Once or twice she got scared and despondent again, thinking of Sutton, but I was able to talk her out of it. She asked me what I'd done and I was as evasive about it as I could be without making her suspicious. I told her I'd had a talk with him and warned him, which was true as far as it went.

It wasn't always so easy at night though, after I'd left her and was lying there in my room. We hadn't seen anything of him, but how did I know we wouldn't? Everything we had planned was based on the a.s.sumption that I'd scared him off and there wouldn't be any more demands. So what if I was wrong? And there was always Dolores Harshaw. I didn't know what she was going to do about it.

I think it was Tuesday night when it hit me. I was lying there in the dark going around with it for the thousandth time, trying to guess whether she'd meant it or not and what my chances would be if she pulled her alibi out from under me and dropped me back into that h.e.l.lhole of questions, when suddenly I sat up in bed with the whole answer perfectly clear in my mind. She didn't have me. I had her. She couldn't do a thing.

I thought about it for a while, and then turned over and dropped off into an untroubled sleep for the first time in weeks. If she tried anything she was going to get the surprise of her life.

I went out to see Harshaw Friday night to give him a short rundown on how we'd been doing. He looked a little better. He was still weak and shaky, but the dirty gray color had cleared up and he appeared to be becoming reconciled to inactivity. He was sitting in the living-room reading "Lee's Lieutenants" while she listened to some quiz show on the radio.

I made the business talk as brief as possible, not playing up the advertising ideas too much because I didn't want to run the risk of starting an argument and getting him heated up. He grunted more or less approvingly at most of the details, and nodded once or twice. "Sounds all right," he said. "I guess you'll make out."

"I think so," I said. She had turned off the radio and was wandering restlessly around the room. I could see she was bored, and I wondered what she'd try next. But I wasn't afraid of her any more.

"How are you getting along with Miss Harper?" he asked.

I grinned. "I remembered what you told me. We're going to be married in November, so I'll be able to mistreat her all I want."

He gave me that probing look, and then his face softened a little. I thought he was going to smile. "Marry her, huh? You're beginning to show signs of intelligence. When you get that girl it'll be the best day's work you ever did."

"I know it," I said. I happened to look up at her just then. She was behind him, adjusting the Venetian blinds. She turned and looked at me with that malicious smile on her face.

"I think that's wonderful," she said. "She's such a sweet girl."

"Thank you," I said.

"I know you'll both be very happy." The smile slipped a little and you could see past it. She was raging. I wondered how long it'd be before I heard from her.

It wasn't very long. It was that same night.

It was around midnight. I was coming back from taking Gloria home and as I pulled up in front of the rooming house another car came up behind me. I stepped out, and it came up alongside and stopped. A voice said softly, "Get in," and I knew who it was. I got in. It would be, the last time.

She went on around the block and over to Main, turning north and gunning it fast along the highway. "How's the happy bridegroom?" she asked.

"Not bad," I said.

"But I'm rushing it a little, aren't I? You're not a bridegroom yet; you're just engaged. You're lovely, and you're engaged. Isn't that sweet?"

"Yes," I said. "And what's on your mind?"

"You'd never guess, would you?"

"I thought I told you the last time. We're through."

"We are like h.e.l.l. Remember?"

She pulled off on to a side road and stopped.

"Well," she said, "so I'm just going to sit around on my hands and let you and that angel-faced candy kid get away with it, am I? The two of you're just too cute for anything. You make me sick."

"Go ahead," I said. "Tell me all about it. And when you get through I'll tell you."

"You're not going to marry her. In November, or any other time. I thought we'd straightened that out already."

"You've got some other plan in mind?"

"You're d.a.m.ned right I have. You're going to marry me."

"I thought the bag limit was one husband at a time."

"Maybe I'm thinking of getting a divorce."

It was something about the way she said it. She didn't mean divorce. Or I didn't think she did. It was just an awful feeling that I was very close to knowing, for the first time, what she was really driving at. She could have left him any time, and he'd probably give her a divorce whenever she asked for it. Maybe she was waiting for more. He'd had two heart attacks-It was a little sickening.

"All right," I said. "Get a divorce. But not on my account. I've told you what I'm going to do."

"You think I'm bluffing, don't you?"

"I wouldn't know."

"What do you suppose the Sheriff'll do when he finds out what really happened that day?"

"So you're going to tell him?"

"Certainly I am."

"And have you thought over what's going to happen when you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"You'll go to jail."

"Who do you think you're kidding?"

"n.o.body. If I committed a crime, you're an accessory to it. I say if I committed one. You don't know, you see. But if I did, now you're as guilty as I am. You not only withheld evidence, but you lied about it."

"I don't believe you." She was still loud and defiant and angry, but I could hear a little note of uncertainty creeping in.

"Well, I've told you," I said. "But if you're such a hotshot hard guy, go ahead and try it. Personally, I don't think they could convict either one of us of anything, but it'd certainly give people something to talk about. Such as, why did you lie about seeing me there in the first place? And what's been going on, girls, that we didn't know anything about?"

"Why you dirty-"

"Well, I just thought I'd tell you, pal, before your neck got out another foot. You'd better reel it in."

"So that's the way it is?"

"That's exactly the way it is."

"All right," she said. "I'll tell you what I think of it. And you. And everything about you. And her."

She told me.

She was still telling me when she slid the wheels to slow down a little to let me out three blocks away from the rooming house. I didn't mind walking. It gave my ears a chance to stop ringing, and gave me a breather to let the fact soak in that I was through with her at last. It was wonderful. Everything was wonderful.

It was a happy few hours. The next morning at ten o'clock Sutton walked into the office to see me.

Gulick was up the street having coffee. I was at my desk doing some paper-work when I heard the car stop outside on the lot. I'd just shoved the papers aside and started to get up to see who it was when he walked in the door. He pulled a chair over and sat down in front of the desk. His face was still a mess, but I didn't pay much attention to it. I was watching his hands. He didn't have on a coat and I couldn't see any place he could be carrying a gun, but if he did have one I didn't have a chance, with that desk between us. By the time I got to him it wouldn't make any difference whether I got there or not.

He fished in the breast pocket of his shirt for a cigarette and then reached down. I waited, scarcely breathing. When the hand came out of his pants pocket it held nothing but a big kitchen match. He raked it along the edge of the desk and lighted his cigarette.

"Don't mind the way my face looks," he said. "I fell out of bed. I was having a funny dream."

"What's on your mind?" I asked.

"That's the way to do business," he said, with what might have been a grin. His face was so puffed and cut not much of it moved. "Always get right to the point. Well, I'll tell you. I'm thinking of buying another car pretty soon."

"How about just paying for the one you've got now?" I said.

"Oh. That's all right. I'll trade it in on the new one."

"Like perpetual motion, huh? You want to trade in a car you don't own for another one you can't pay for. You ought to be in the government."

"It must rub off on you," he said. "You've been a big shot less than a week and you sound just like Harshaw already."

"Maybe I was wrong," I said. 'You ought to work for the newspaper."

"Oh, I take an interest in things. But how about the car? I've kind of got my eye on that Buick up there at the end."

"That's twenty-four hundred dollars worth of car. Eight hundred down. What are you using for money?"

"I told you. I'll trade mine."

I was beginning to get fed up with it. It didn't look as if he had a gun or was looking for trouble, and I couldn't figure out what he was getting at.

"Cut it out," I said. "If you haven't got anything to do, I have. Your equity in that Ford is about three hundred dollars, and we both know how you got that much in it. And just to jog your memory, that gravy-train has quit running." I stopped and looked at him. "Incidentally, your next note is two or three days overdue, so unless you've got fifty-five dollars on you you'd better start thinking about walking home. Thanks for bringing it in."

"Oh, that's all right," he said. "But you still don't catch on. Why should I make another payment on it when I'm going to turn it back? On that Buick. Let's go take a ride in it. We can work out the down payment then."

I started to tell him to beat it when I looked up and saw Gulick coming back. There was no use letting him get an earful. "O.K.," I said. I got the key out of the drawer. "Let's take a ride."

We went out to the car. "Mind if I drive?" he asked.

"No. Go ahead."

I climbed in beside him and he eased it out into Main. "Nice car," he said. "Radio and everything, huh?"

"Now listen, you stupid b.a.s.t.a.r.d," I said, "I don't know what you're driving at, but I can get a bellyful of you quicker than most people. So why don't you get wise and shove? You fall out of that bed about once more and the gra.s.shoppers'll start talking to you."

"You know," he said, "I been thinkin' about that." He turned right beyond the bank and started down the street where the Taylor building had been. "Thought I might go out to the Coast."

"Now you're getting smart."

He jerked his head towards the charred rubble and the ashes. "Quite a fire they had, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," I said. I'll never know why I didn't begin to tumble then. Maybe it was that silly, half-witted act he was putting on.

He turned again at the second cross street and started around the block. And just after he'd made the last turn he pulled to the curb and stopped. We were facing up the street towards what had been the rear of the Taylor building. There was a big elm hanging out over the curb and we were in the shade. There was something awfully familiar about it. And then the warning began to go off in my head at last. This was the exact spot where I'd parked the car that day of the fire. The chill was going all over me now in spite of the midmorning heat. There wasn't one chance in a thousand he'd stumbled on this spot accidentally. And the only way he could have known about it-I didn't want to think about that.

"You know, it's funny about this place," he said. "Familiar, sort of; ain't it? You ever get that feeling? You know, that you've been in a place before."

"Break it up," I said. "What are you talking about?"

"That day they had the fire. Seems to me I was walking along here, going back to town, about a half hour after it started. I'd been over there watching it, see, but I'm kind of funny; fires bore me after a while. The way I see it, there's no money in 'em. Or at least that's what I thought then. That just shows you how stupid a man can be when he don't use his head. Now, you take a smart son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h like you, a real big-shot sort of guy, he knows there's money in fires."

"How about getting to it?" I said. "It wouldn't take much to finish that face for you."

He lighted a cigarette and shook his head. The simpleton act was gone now. "I wouldn't advise it, pal. You know how the monkey was caught in the lawn-mower. The best thing to do in a case like that is to hold still."

"Hold still for what?" I asked, feeling the sweat gathering on my face.

"Well, let's say about five thousand, plus the Buick. They say you tapped the bank for ten, which probably means about fifteen grand, so I figure around half will do for me. The way I see it, why be a hog? People wouldn't like you."

"I think I'm beginning to get it," I said. "You've got a goofy idea I had something to do with that bank business, and so-"

"Let's just skip all that part, pal," he said. I could see I was boring him. "Let's just talk about the geetus. It's more fun that way. As far as thinking you clouted the bank, you're talking about the Sheriff and that deputy, Tate. They think you did it. Me, I'm another guy altogether. I just happen to be the only one who can prove it. But we wouldn't want to make it that easy for 'em, would we, pal? As I see it, let 'em earn their money. So that being the case-"

"You keep talking, but you haven't said anything," I broke in. "What do you mean, you can prove a crazy pipe dream like that?"

"Just like I said. I saw you drive up here in a h.e.l.l of a hurry thirty minutes after the fire broke out and everybody who wasn't staying for the second show had started home-"

"What does that prove?" I said angrily. "Maybe I was supposed to punch a time-clock, or something?"

"Please, pal. Keep your stories straight. I can see you're just breaking in. You tell them you got there with the fire-wagon, and now you tell me you can come dragging in any time you want. You got to tell everybody the same story, see. I get in more trouble with girls that way. Of course, I run around with more the female type of girl myself."

I went for him, but he saw it in my face before I got started. His hand slipped inside the shirt, under his right armpit, and came out with it. It was a woman's gun, a little pearl-handled automatic, not as big as his hand as he let it rest in his lap, but there's no difference between being killed with one of them and with a .45 unless it's prestige you're after.

I slid back and left him alone.