1958 - The World in My Pocket (22 page)

Read 1958 - The World in My Pocket Online

Authors: James Hadley Chase

Kitson was driving slowly now and listening. He watched the sun, like a red ball of fire, dip behind the mountains.

‘My father was a sick man,’ Ginny went on, lacing her fingers over one knee. ‘He had two years to go before he got his pension, and he tried to hang on, but in the end he had to quit.

They gave him time off, but when he wasn’t well enough to come back when they thought he should, they sacked him, and away went his pension. I went to see the staff manager to explain, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He treated me as if I were a beggar. So, when my father died, I decided I would get even. I would be killing two birds with one stone: I’d settle the score and I’d become rich. I had the plan all worked out in my mind and I had to find someone to help me. I was in a cafe one night, and I overheard some men talking about Morgan. From what they said, I decided he was the one to go to. So I went to him. That’s the story. It was my father’s plan, but he would never have used it.’

‘I’m sorry for your father,’ Kitson said.

‘Yes.’ He saw her hands suddenly turn into fists. ‘I’m sorry I ever started this, Alex. I know I’m hard and bad and money loving. I know all that, but I didn’t think it was going to be like this. It’s so easy to talk about killing a man. You see it on the movies and it doesn’t seem anything, but when it really happens.’

‘Look, Ginny,’ Kitson’s voice was suddenly urgent. ‘Why don’t you and me quit? We could go to Mexico. If we cleared out right now, we stand a chance of getting away with it. Why don’t we do that?’

She hesitated, then shook her head.

‘No! I’m not going to quit now. The time to have quitted was before we killed the guard and the driver and before Morgan died. I’m going through with this now, Alex. But you quit. I’d like to see you out of this, but I’m going through with it. We still have a chance of getting the money. What have I to lose now? But you quit, Alex. You should never have been in this anyway.’ She looked at him. ‘Why did you? You didn’t want to. I could see that. Why did you vote for it?’

Kitson shrugged his shoulders.

‘Because of you,’ he said. ‘You meant something to me from the moment I saw you.’

‘I’m sorry, Alex. I’m really sorry.’

‘Look, if we get the money, couldn’t we join up together?’ Kitson asked, staring hard at the road as it came towards him. ‘I love you, Ginny. You’re the only girl who has ever meant anything to me.’

‘I don’t know, Alex. Perhaps. Let’s wait until we get the money. I’m scared of complications. Will you let me think about it?’

Kitson nearly drove off the road, he was so surprised.

‘You really mean there’s a chance you might, Ginny?’

She patted his arm.

‘Let me think about it, Alex.’

It was dark by the time they got back to the caravan camp.

Kitson, elated by the talk he had had with Ginny, dumped the groceries in the kitchen and then went across to the caravan. The lake side was deserted. It was safe enough to let Bleck and Gypo out. As he watched them come from the caravan he knew something was wrong.

Gypo walked slowly and heavily, his shoulders hunched. His right cheek was bruised and bleeding slightly.

When Kitson asked him what was the matter, he didn’t reply, but entered the cabin and slumped down into an armchair.

Bleck, his face bleak, an ugly glitter in his eyes, walked to the settee and then reached for the whisky bottle and poured himself a stiff drink. Then he sat down, scowling.

‘There was a kid hanging around outside the caravan,’ he said as Kitson shut the cabin door and locked it. ‘He tried to look in.’

Sensing the atmosphere, Ginny asked, ‘What about the lock?’

Bleck shrugged.

‘No luck so far,’ he said, leaning back and staring at her. ‘The second tumbler shows no signs of falling. Gypo has got worked up about it.’

‘Worked up!’ Gypo exclaimed shrilly. ‘I’m quitting! The lock has beaten me! Do you hear? I’m quitting!’

Ginny said quietly, ‘But you can’t quit. What’s the matter?’

‘Matter?’ Gypo thumped his fists on his knees. ‘No one can work in that caravan in that heat! You don’t know what it is like! For three days I’ve tried to bust that lock. It’s no good! Now I quit!’

‘You told Frank it would take a month,’ Ginny said. ‘You can’t quit after three days.’

‘Leave him alone,’ Bleck said. ‘I’ve been over all this with the jerk until I’m sick of it. The heat in the caravan is sheer hell. We’ve got to go up to the mountains as Frank said so we can work with the back of the caravan open. We can’t go on boxed in; we just can’t.’

‘It’ll be dangerous,’ Ginny said. ‘Here, we’re lost among other caravans, but in the mountains, if we are spotted, they’re bound to investigate us.’

‘We’ve got to take that risk,’ Bleck said savagely. ‘If Gypo can’t handle the lock, we’ll have to try to cut into the door and we can’t do that here.’

‘They are still watching the roads,’ Kitson said, uneasily. ‘We stand a chance of being stopped, Ed. And another thing, we don’t know if the Buick will haul that weight up the mountain road. I’ve been up there. It’s bad and part of the road has been broken up by the storm a couple of weeks ago.’

‘We’ve got to chance it,’ Bleck said. ‘If we leave here tomorrow at noon, we’ll be on the mountain road by dark. We’ll have to buy a tent and food. It’ll mean living rough until Gypo busts the truck.’

‘Count me out!’ Gypo said violently. ‘I’m going home!’

As Bleck started to say something there came a knock on the cabin door.

There was an electrifying pause, then Bleck, gun in hand, stood up.

Gypo, his face white, leaned forward to stare at the door.

Ginny said in a fierce whisper, ‘Get into the bedroom, you two!’

Bleck grabbed hold of Gypo, dragged him to his feet and bundled him into the bedroom as Kitson, very tense, crossed the room and opened the cabin door.

Fred Bradford stood just outside.

‘Hello there, Mr. Harrison,’ he said. ‘Pardon me for calling at this time. I guess Mrs. Harrison is getting supper ready.’

‘Yes,’ Kitson said, blocking the doorway. ‘Was there something?’

‘I guess so. Could I come in a moment? I won’t keep you folks long.’

Seeing Kitson hesitate, Ginny came quickly to the door.

‘Why, hello, Mr. Bradford, come right in,’ she said, smiling. ‘I haven’t started supper yet so there’s nothing to spoil.’

Bradford moved into the sitting room. He looked self-conscious and a little uneasy.

‘Give Mr. Bradford a drink, Alex,’ Ginny said.

‘No, I don’t think I will, thanks,’ Bradford said. He sat down, rubbing his knees with the palms of his hands. ‘I mustn’t take up too much of your time. My kid was around here this afternoon.’ Bradford looked directly at Kitson. ‘He tells me there were two men in your caravan.’

Kitson felt his heart give a little bounce. He looked over at Ginny, not knowing what to say.

‘They were two of our friends,’ Ginny said calmly. She smiled at Bradford. ‘We promised to lend them the caravan for their vacation and they came down when we were out to look at it.’

Bradford relaxed.

‘Well, what do you know? I told my kid it was something like that, but he wouldn’t have it. He said they were quarrelling and shouting at each other, and it sort of scared him. He thought they were robbers.’

Ginny laughed.

‘I wouldn’t go so far as that,’ she said, ‘but I wouldn’t trust them too far in a deal. They’re always shouting at each other, but that doesn’t stop them planning a vacation together.’

‘They certainly scared my kid,’ Bradford said. ‘I thought I’d better have a word with you. There have been robberies on this lake, Mrs. Harrison. Well, if they’re friends of yours.’

‘Oh, yes. It’s nice of you to have bothered. Are you sure you won’t have a drink, Mr. Bradford?’

‘No, no, thanks. I guess I mustn’t keep you.’ He pulled at his long nose, frowning. ‘You know, for his age, that kid of mine is remarkably smart. He’s got an idea about this missing truck. Know what he thinks? He thinks it’s hidden in a caravan.’

Kitson’s hands turned into fists, and he hastily pushed them out of sight into his trousers’ pockets.

Ginny stiffened a little, but her expression remained unchanged.

‘In a caravan? What gave him that idea?’

‘Oh, I guess it’s because he’s surrounded by caravans right here,’ Bradford said, smiling indulgently. ‘But mind you, it’s not a bad idea. He says the police would never think of hunting through a place like this for a truck, and he could be right.’

‘I suppose he could,’ Ginny said. ‘He’s certainly got imagination.’

‘That’s a fact. He wants me to go to the police and tell them. He reckons if they find the truck hidden in a caravan, they’ll give him the reward. Did you see they’ve raised the reward now to five thousand? That’s quite a slice of money.’

There was a pause, then Ginny said, ‘I can’t imagine them giving him the reward, can you, Mr. Bradford?’ Her smile was a little stiff. ‘You know how the police are about rewards.’

‘Well, yes,’ Bradford said. ‘I can’t make up my mind whether to go to the police or not. Mind you, I think the kid’s got something, but maybe they’ll tell me to mind my own business.’

‘Since you own a caravan, Mr. Bradford, it wouldn’t surprise me if they suspected you had stolen the truck yourself. I remember my father once found some pearls and gave them to the police, claiming the reward. They promptly arrested him, and it took weeks of expense to clear him, and he never got the reward.’

Bradford’s eyes opened very wide.

‘You don’t say! I hadn’t thought of that. I guess that settles it. I’ll leave well alone. I’m glad I talked to you. I sure hadn’t thought of that angle.’

He got to his feet.

‘This is goodbye, Mr. Bradford,’ Ginny said, smiling at him. ‘We are leaving tomorrow.’

‘You are? Why, that’s a shame! Don’t you like it here then?’

‘We love it, but we plan to make a long trip. We’re heading for Stag Lake, and then we’re going on to Deer Lake.’

‘That’s quite a trip! Well, I wish you happiness.’ Bradford shook hands. He stayed talking at the door for several more minutes while Ginny and Kitson stood there willing him to go. Then finally he waved his hand and went off along the moonlit path towards his own cabin.

Ginny shut the door and turned the key.

‘Well, as Mr. Bradford says, that settles it. We must go.’

‘Yeah,’ Kitson said. ‘You certainly handled that guy. You were terrific!’

‘Okay, okay, plough boy,’ Bleck said from the bedroom door. ‘Don’t get hysterical. That damned kid! I had an idea he heard us.’

Gypo came to the bedroom door and stood, listening.

‘Well, tomorrow we go,’ Bleck went on. ‘We can’t take a chance on that kid trying a fast one.’ He turned to Kitson. ‘Suppose you get out of here and stay with the caravan? That kid might take it into his head to come back and start snooping.’

Kitson nodded. He went to the door, unlocked it and went out into the night.

Gypo said in a flat, final voice, ‘Tomorrow, I go home. Understand? I’ve had enough. Now I’m going to bed.’

He went back into the bedroom and shut the door.

‘I’ll fix him,’ Bleck said, an ugly expression in his eyes. ‘I’m getting plenty tired of that creep.’

Ginny went into the kitchen and began preparing supper.

Bleck came to the door and leaned against it.

‘You handled that guy pretty well, baby,’ he said. ‘Have you thought any more about my proposition? I’m smart; you’re smart, so that makes us two smart people. How about it?’

She slid two big steaks into the frying pan.

‘I wouldn’t be interested if you were the last man left alive,’ she said not looking at him.

‘Okay, baby,’ he said. ‘We’ll see.’

He was grinning as if he had a secret joke as he wandered over to the armchair and sat down.

 

II

 

E
arly next morning, Kitson drove into town, leaving Ginny to sit near the caravan on guard while Bleck and Gypo remained in the cabin. This was taking a risk, but Gypo had been so difficult Bleck didn’t feel he could cope with him in the caravan.

Bleck and Kitson had had to tie Gypo to the bed and gag him: that was how bad he had been. When they had finally fastened him to the bed, Bleck, breathing heavily, a vicious expression in his eyes, waved Kitson out of the room. ‘You leave this jerk to me,’ he said. ‘I’ll persuade him to change his mind. By the time you get back, he’ll be willing to travel with us.’

Kitson hated leaving Gypo like that, but he knew they couldn’t hope to get the truck open without Gypo’s skill, and as Gypo seemed to have gone slightly off his head, he was relieved to push the responsibility onto Bleck.

In town, Kitson bought a fair-sized tent and a large stock of canned food. They had discussed the food problem and had decided that it wouldn’t be safe to go down to the town to shop once they were up in the mountains and they would have to take enough provisions to last them until Gypo opened the truck. He returned to the cabin with the trunk of the Buick full of his purchases.

Ginny came over as he got out of the car.

‘Anything happen?’ he asked.

She shook her head.

‘No, but I’m glad you’re back. I keep thinking of that kid. The sooner we leave the better.’

They went into the cabin together.

Gypo was sitting in one of the armchairs. His face was white and his eyes sunk deep into his head. He didn’t look up when they came in.

Bleck was pacing up and down, smoking.

‘All fixed?’ he said to Kitson.

‘I got everything.’

Kitson looked at Gypo and then at Bleck, his eyes question marks.

‘Gypo’s okay now,’ Bleck said. ‘I’ve talked to him and he’s ready to cooperate.’

‘You force me to do it,’ Gypo said, his voice shaking. ‘Nothing good will come of it. I’ve warned you before. Now I’m warning you again.’ He looked up suddenly at Kitson. ‘You were my friend. Some friend! You keep away from me! I don’t want anything more to do with you!’

‘What’s the matter then?’ Kitson asked, staring at him.

‘I had to get a little tough with him,’ Bleck said. ‘I had to convince him if he didn’t cooperate, he would run into a lot of trouble.’

Other books

Wickedness by Deborah White
Kelly by Clarence L. Johnson
Solemn Vows by Don Gutteridge
Mujeres estupendas by Libertad Morán
Bad Behavior by Cristina Grenier
The Shadows of Grace by David Dalglish
Wild Child by Molly O'Keefe
Summer Secrets by Freethy, Barbara
Keep Swimming by Kade Boehme