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    Strictly for Cash

    Page 24
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      and it swung open, I looked into an empty kitchen. The cat jumped from my lap on to the

      floor and started twining itself around the table leg looking up at me hopefully.

      I took off my shoes, then slid soundlessly to the floor, crept over to the door and opened it

      half an inch. For some seconds I heard nothing. Then I heard Benno humming to himself.

      He was in the front room.

      I closed the door again, then I picked up the cat and holding it under my arm, I opened the

      china cupboard and took out a couple of plates. I pitched them into the air. The crash they

      made when they hit on the floor was enough to raise the dead.

      Still holding the cat I stepped back and flattened myself against the wall by the door. I

      waited. Nothing happened. All I could hear was my quick, light breathing and the faint

      purring of the cat.

      Minutes ticked by, and I began to wonder if Benno was Coming. Then suddenly I noticed

      the door was opening.

      I bent down and gently put the cat on the floor. I gave it a little shove sending it away from

      me. Then I straightened up, every muscle in my body tense.

      The door continued to open inch by inch. The cat stood still, staring at the door. Suddenly it

      growled, and its tail bushed out.

      The door swung wide open.

      “Goddamn it!” I heard Benno mutter. “A cat!”

      I held my breath, praying he would come in, but he didn’t. He remained just outside the

      door. I could hear his breath whistling down his nose.

      196

      The cat backed away.

      “How did you get in here?” Benno demanded. “Here, come here.”

      But the cat didn’t seem to like the look of him. It spat at him, continuing to back away.

      Benno wandered into the kitchen. He had a gun in his right hand. He came in slowly,

      snapping his fingers at the cat.

      “Here, pooch, come here,” he said.

      He was within three feet of me before some instinct warned him of his danger. He swung

      around as I struck at him. That quick, unexpected movement spoilt my aim, and instead of

      landing on his jaw, my fist caught the top of his shoulder. The force of the punch sent him

      flying. He crashed against the wall, made a frantic effort to regain his balance, and at the

      same time aim his gun at me.

      I flung myself at him, my right hand clamping down on his gun hand. I crushed his fingers

      against the gun butt and pinned him against the wall.

      His fat, vicious face was only inches away from mine. He tried to grab my throat, but I

      slammed over a punch that caught him on the side of his head, stunning him.

      I tore the gun out of his hand and threw it away, then my fingers sank into the fat flesh of

      his neck, my thumbs digging into his windpipe. As I exerted pressure, his face turned blue

      and his eyes started out of his head. I held him against the wall and throttled him.

      Only the whites of his eyes were showing when I stepped away from him and let him slide

      limply to the floor. My hands ached, and my heart thumped as I bent over him. I put a finger

      on his eye: it didn’t flicker. I touched the artery in his neck: no pulse answered me.

      I straightened up, flexing my aching fingers and then with an unsteady hand I lit a cigarette.

      Reisner, Della, Ricca and now Benno, I thought, I could feel no pity for any of them. If I

      hadn’t killed them, they would have killed me.

      The cat came over and sniffed delicately at Benno’s dead face. It put out a paw and patted

      his nose. I took two or three hurried drags at the cigarette, then dropped it and put my heel in

      it. Time was running out. There was still much to do.

      I put on my shoes, shoved Benno’s gun in my hip pocket and went along the passage into

      the sitting-room.

      Ginny lay in the armchair. Her hands were tied behind her, and she was still gagged. Her

      197

      head lolled forward and she seemed to be in a faint.

      I ran to her, slashed through the cord that bound her wrists and gently eased the gag out of

      her mouth.

      “Ginny, darling!”

      She moaned softly.

      “Ginny, it’s me. Come on, darling, we’ve got to get out of here!”

      Her head dropped back and her eyelids lifted. Recognition slowly came into her eyes and

      she touched my face.

      “Where have you been, Johnny?” she said huskily. “I waited and waited. I moved in here,

      hoping you’d come back. It’s been so long.”

      “I’ll tell you about it later. Come on, kid, we’ve got to get out of here. We’ve got to get out

      of town. I have a car outside.”

      “Where are we going?” She sat up, her land going to her torn dress.

      “We can decide that as we go. We’ve got to hurry.”

      She shivered.

      “Where is that awful little man? Who is he?”

      I pulled her to her feet. Her knees buckled and she would have fallen if I hadn’t supported

      her.

      “Don’t worry about anything. I’ve taken care of him. Let’s get out of here.”

      “No!” She tried to push away from me, but I held her. “I’m not going with you until I know

      what all this means. Why do we have to leave? Send for the police, Johnny. Get the police

      here. Why should we run away?”

      “You don’t understand, Ginny,” I said, trying to control my impatience. Every second we

      wasted now made our getaway more difficult. “We can’t go to the police. The police captain

      is in this too. We must get out of here!”

      Sudden fear jumped into her eyes.

      198

      “What is all this talk of money about?” she asked breathlessly. “What money, Johnny?”

      I knew at once it would be fatal to tell her about the money. Later, perhaps, but certainly

      not now. She might not understand that it was mine by right: she might even think I had

      stolen it.

      “He’s mistaking me for someone else,” I said. “Now come on, Ginny. I’ll tell you about it

      in the car.”

      “He kept asking me about the money,” Ginny said wildly. “He said you had stolen it from

      the casino.”

      “He’s lying. Now, come on, darling. He may be back any moment. He’s dangerous. We

      must get out of here!”

      “Johnny, did you steal it?”

      “Of course I didn’t.”

      “Word of honour?”

      “Yes, word of honour. It’s all a mistake. Come on, Ginny, let’s go”

      “You’ll have to help me. I can’t walk far.”

      I drew in a quick gasp of relief.

      “You’re not going to walk at all. I’m going to carry you,” I said, and took her in my arms.

      She put her arm round my neck.

      “I’ve been so frightened, Johnny. I’ve missed you so.”

      “It’s all going to be all right,” I said. “In a week, darling, you’ll have forgotten this ever

      happened.”

      I went to the front door and opened it.

      Captain of Police Hame stood just outside. He had a .45 in his hand and he rode me back

      into the room, his blue eyes like chips of ice.

      199

      III

      I set Ginny down in the armchair and raised my hands as Hame moved into the room,

      closing the door with his foot.

      “Looks as if I’ve caught up with you at last,” he said. The .45 centred on my chest. Ricca

      lived long enough to tell me you killed him. You’re getting as dangerous as a mad dog,

     
    Farrar.”

      I heard Ginny catch her breath in a horrified gasp.

      “Now look …” I began, but Hame stopped me.

      “I got proof you killed Reisner and the Wertham woman, and now Ricca,” he went on.

      “That’s one murder too many. Back up against that wall!”

      I knew what he was going to do. I could read it in his eyes. He couldn’t afford to let me

      stand trial. I knew too much about him. The easiest out for him was to put a slug into me

      while resisting arrest.

      My eyes went to Ginny. She was staring at me: her face was white and horrified.

      Hame followed my glance.

      “And you too,” he said to her. “You’re in this. Back up against the wall with him!”

      She would have to go, too. He wouldn’t want a witness to my killing.

      “Wait, Hame!” I said. “We can do a deal.”

      “Back up against that wall!” he snarled at me. “I’m not making any deals with you. I don’t

      have to!”

      “You don’t have to, but you will,” I said, speaking fast, knowing any second he might

      shoot. “I’ve got half the casino’s reserve: a quarter of a million dollars!”

      That held him, as I knew it would hold him. His eyes flickered.

      “You don’t bluff me, Farrar,” he said in a grating voice, “and you don’t talk yourself out of

      this,” but there wasn’t any conviction in his voice.

      “Turn us both loose and I’ll split it with you. A hundred and twenty-five grand in cash!”

      “Where is it?”

      200

      “Where you won’t get your hooks into it without my say so,” I said. “This is cash, Hame.

      Money that can’t be traced. All I want is three hours to get clear, Is it a deal?”

      “I wouldn’t make a deal with you unless I saw the money,” he said.

      “You can see it, but I want your word you’ll turn us loose with a three-hour start when you

      get the money.”

      A thin, sneering smile came to his sun-burned face.

      “I take the lot, Farrar. You haven’t a thing to bargain with. I’ll take the lot and you can

      have an hour’s start.”

      “No! I’ll give you two hundred grand. I’ve got to have something. I’ve got to have a

      getaway stake, and I want three hours.”

      “The lot or I’ll put a slug into both of you and take a chance of finding the money.” He was

      grinning now. “Please yourself. I told you you have nothing to bargain with, and you

      haven’t.”

      I had intended to play with him. I was ready and willing to buy Ginny’s and my freedom

      for half the money, but he wasn’t taking the lot. I’d worked too hard for that money to part

      with all of it. There was only one way out of this. I had to catch him off his guard and kill

      him.

      “Give me five grand,” I said, making out I was frantic. “I’ve got to have a getaway stake.”

      “Maybe,” he said, still grinning. “Where is it?”

      I realized he’d shoot me the moment he got the money. Once again I was being jostled into

      murder.

      “I’d be a fool to tell you, wouldn’t I? As soon as you know what’s to stop you shooting

      me?”

      He tried to keep a straight face.

      “My word.”

      “What’s the use of that to me?”

      He grinned then.

      201

      “Well, suggest something.”

      I nodded to Ginny.

      “She can get it and bring it here.”

      “Suppose she doesn’t come back?”

      “She will. She loves me. Do you think she wants me to get shot?”

      All the time I was talking, Ginny had sat motionless, staring at me. Now when I turned to

      her, she flinched away.

      “Go on,” I said to her. “Get the money and hurry.” I reached forward and offered her the

      key of my car. “The car’s around the back. It won’t take you long.”

      She crouched in the chair, and the look she gave me sent a chill up my spine.

      “Ginny! Please do what I say. This is the only way out for you. Get the money, and it’ll be

      all right.” I tried to make her understand I was offering her escape.

      “No,” she said. “I’m not having anything to do with it. You did steal that money, didn’t

      you?”

      “It belonged to me, Ginny,” I said desperately. “I can’t explain now…”

      “Of course he stole it,” Hame cut in. “It’s money belonging to the casino.”

      “Oh, Johnny, how could you?” she said, wringing her hands. “How could you get me into a

      thing like this? You’ve bed to me all along. When you didn’t come to Miami as you

      promised, I phoned the insurance people you talked about and they said you’d never worked

      for them. Ever since we first met you’ve lied to me.” She pounded on the arm of the chair

      with her fist. “I’m not going to be dragged into this! And don’t talk to me of love!”

      I was sweating now.

      “You’ve got to get that money! Don’t you understand he’ll shoot both of us if you don’t

      go? Take this key and get out!”

      “Oh no,” Hame said. “Not if that’s the way she feels about you. She stays here. We’ll start

      from the beginning again.”

      Around the half-open kitchen door I saw the white cat come in.

      202

      “Then let me go,” I said my muscles tightening. “She means everything to me. I’ll come

      back. You can trust me to come back.”

      “No woman’s worth a quarter of a million. We’ll all go.”

      The cat brushed against his trouser leg. He hadn’t seen it come in, and feeling something

      against his leg startled him. He looked down with an oath.

      I was waiting for that moment. I sprang at him, my right hand grabbing at his gun arm, my

      left at his throat.

      The gun went off with a crash that rattled the windows. Hame staggered back, then went

      down with me on top of him. I fastened on to his wrist and smashed his gun hand down on

      the floor. The gun went off again, but it fell from his hand.

      For a minute or so we fought like a couple of animals. He was as strong as a bull, and knew

      every dirty trick in the box. We rolled to and fro, upsetting the furniture, while we punched,

      kneed and butted each other. It was like getting tangled up with a buzz-saw, trying to hold

      him.

      He got his hands on my throat and began to squeeze. He had a grip like a monkey-wrench,

      and the air was cut off from my lungs. I clubbed him on the bridge of his nose and flattened

      it, crashing the back of his head on the floor. For a second or so he was dazed and the

      strength went out of his hands. I tore his fingers from my throat, twisted clear, crawled up on

      hands and knees. He was up on his feet a shade after I had straightened up. His face was a

      snarling mask of blood which poured from his broken nose.

      At long range I knew I could take him, but hugged in those iron muscles he could lick me. I

      had to keep clear of him.

      Maybe he had forgotten I was a boxer. He didn’t act as if he thought I knew how to fight.

      He rushed at me, his arms reaching out for my waist, to bring me down into another

      murderous clawing wrestle on the floor. But I had had enough of that. I slipped to one side

      and jolted my right in his face. That hurt him, but it didn’t stop him. He was tough. It’d take

      more than a slam in the face to put him down.

      He came at me again, and this time I went in at him. We met like two charging bull
    s, I felt

      his hands grab my coat front. I grinned into his savage, blood-soaked face, then I brought

      over the left hook: the same punch that had broken MacCready’s jaw, that had floored

      Waller, that had put paid to the Miami Kid. It landed flush on the side of his jaw3 and I felt

      the jar run up my arm. I didn’t care. He was out long before he hit the floor.

      203

      Gasping for breath I turned to look for Ginny, but she wasn’t there.

      “Ginny!”

      I rushed into the passage. The front door stood open. Turning, I ran back into the sitting-room and to the window.

      I saw her running down the long drive towards the gates. She was staggering as she ran,

      and she was holding her hands in her face. I leaned out of the window.

      “Ginny! Wait for me!”

      But she didn’t look round, although she must have heard me. She kept running, and beyond

      her, at the gates I saw two prowl cars swing to the kerb. Two cops tumbled out of the first car

      and started up the drive. She ran slap into them She was falling as she reached then, and one

      of them caught her and lowered her to the ground. Two more prowl boys spilled out of the

      second car and came pounding up the drive.

      They looked up and saw me. I was looking at Ginny. There was a tightness in my throat

      and a sick, empty feeling inside me. I had a premonition I was looking at her for the last time.

      Then I turned and ran into the kitchen.

      Benno lay stiff in death, his fat, vicious face seemed to snarl at me. I jumped over him,

      climbed into the box elevator and loosened the brake.

      Seconds later I was running down the weed-covered path to the back gate. No one fired at

      me. I jerked open the gate and scrambled into the waiting Packard. I was shooting down the

      narrow alley that led to the boulevard when I heard police whistles. At least I had a car under

      me, and a fast car at that.

      Where was I to go? The general alarm would be out in a few minutes, and every patrol car

      would be looking for me.

      Who would hide me from the police? I thought of fat Zoe Eisner who ran the Liberty Inn

      on Bay Street. If I could reach her I might buy a hide-out.

      I headed for Bay Street.

      Half-way down Lincoln Avenue that runs parallel with Lincoln Beach’s main street, I

      spotted a cop ahead, looking towards me from the sidewalk. He began waving at me. I shoved

     


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