1953 - The Sucker Punch (25 page)

Chad saw it coming, and he shoved back his chair and stood up. A hard, fixed grin made his handsome face vicious. He reached forward and picked up the wrench that lay on the table. Then he crossed over to the hut door and took up a position against the wall.

He waited.

The noise of the car engine grew louder. Through the open window, he caught sight of the car as it swung to a standstill in front of the hut.

He heard the car door slam.

"You there, Eve?" Larry called as he moved over the hot sand to the hut door.

Chad waited. His right fist held the wrench so tightly his fingers ached.

The door pushed open and Larry walked in.

He never knew what hit him.

The heavy wrench caught him on the top of his head with a bone crushing impact. He was dead before his body hit the floor.

Chad stood over him, breathing heavily. The shock of the blow had jarred his arm. He knew instinctively he wouldn't have to hit Larry again.

He put the wrench on the table and knelt down beside the dead man.

He turned him over on his back and without looking at the dead face he went hurriedly through his pockets. There was a limp wallet containing a driving licence, a few letters, and a twenty-dollar bill. He also found a cigarette case, a handkerchief and a folder of matches which he put on the table. Then moving quickly he began to strip off the dead man's clothes. He left him in his underwear, socks and shoes.

He pulled off his own white nylon shirt and his navy slacks and put on Larry's check shirt, his worn grey flannel trousers and his sports jacket.

Then he put his shirt and trousers on the dead man.

It was a slow, difficult and gruesome task, and he was sweating and shaking by the time he was through. He looked at his watch. It was getting on for six. He had a three hour wait now before it would be dark enough to complete the last move in his plan of escape.

He didn't intend to spend those three hours in the stifling hut. He looked over at the dead woman on the divan and grimaced. He wasn't going to stay here with her there to haunt him.

He got Larry up across his shoulders and staggered out with him, across the hot sand to the hidden Buick. He dumped the body on the floor in front of the driving seat.

He then returned to the hut and with brown paper and string he found in a cupboard he made a parcel of the two tape recorder spools.

He addressed the parcel to District Attorney John Harrington and marked the parcel urgent

Taking a last look around, he spotted Eve's suitcase standing against the wall.

"Goddam it! I nearly forgot that," he said aloud.

He picked up the suitcase and placed it on the table and opened it. On top of Eve's hurriedly packed clothes was Vestal's jewel case. He grinned as he lifted the lid. Eve hadn't heeded his warning. She had taken the diamonds as well as all the other stuff. There was probably over a million dollars’ worth of jewellery in the case.

He took the case and the parcel and went back to the Buick. Then he sat down in the shade to wait.

He had no idea how long it would be before Leggit discovered the body in the Buick wasn't his. He remembered how violently Vestal's car had burned. The body was unrecognizable, but he had no doubt that Leggit would go through what remained of it with his usual thoroughness. It was possible Larry's teeth would give the game away, but the investigation would take time. While it was going on, he would be escaping, so he would have a good start. They wouldn't begin to hunt for him until they were sure the body wasn't his.

He decided the easiest way was to make his way up the coast to Canada. From Canada he might get to England. He had money, and money could buy a passport: money could buy anything. He was sure he had a sporting chance of beating the rap.

He sat with his back to a tree, smoking and thinking until darkness fell. The next move was to drive to the cliff road and send the Buick over the cliff head. When he had satisfied himself the car was burning, he would return to the hut and take Larry's Ford and start his journey up the coast. It was tiresome that he would have to walk back to the hut. It was some distance from the cliff head, and it would take him an hour or even longer, but there was no alternative.

He got into the Buick, grimacing as his foot touched Larry's curled up body. As he began to drive along the coast road, he wondered if the police were guarding the cliff head. If they were, he was sunk, but he saw no reason why they should be. They might have left a couple of cops at the house, but there would be no point in keeping a man out all night on the cliff road.

That was a chance he had to take.

He drove fast, using only his parking lights. Very soon he began the long, twisting climb up the cliff road, and his heart began to pound as he neared the spot where Vestal's car had taken its plunge.

In the half-darkness, he spotted the gaping hole in the fence and he pulled up.

There was no time to lose. He took his suitcase from the car and set it on the grass verge. On top of the case he put the parcel and Vestal's jewel case. Then he got back into the Buick and drove it up the verge, its nose pointing at the hole in the fence.

He disengaged the gear and got out of the car, leaving the engine running. The next move was going to be tricky. The car had to be found in gear. Leggit would guess what had happened if he found the gear stick at neutral. It would tell him the car had been pushed over the cliff and not driven over it.

Chad leaned inside the car, keeping the door open with his shoulder.

He depressed the clutch pedal with his hand, put the gear lever into third, pulled the hand throttle out fully until the engine was running fast, then bracing himself, he released the clutch and threw himself backwards.

The car jumped forward.

The car door swung to, hitting Chad violently on his shoulder. He rolled over, desperately swinging his legs clear as the car wheels passed him.

He saw the car vanish, then he felt his legs suddenly drop into space.

He was going over the edge! He hooked his fingers into the thick grass with a gasp of alarm. He felt the rest of his body slide over the edge and he swung in space. His fingers dug into the soft soil, and he anchored himself.

He hung there, his heart pounding, the strain on his arms bringing him out into a cold sweat.

His toes groped for a foothold but found nothing. He tried to pull himself up, but the angle at which he was hanging was too steep, and he hadn't the strength to raise his own weight over the bulge of the clip.

He heard the violent crashing of rocks and boulders as the car smashed down the cliff head, and he shuddered. A moment later the sky was lit by an orange-red glow as the car began to burn.

He felt the strength going out of his fingers. His mind was gripped by blind, desperate terror.

He made one great effort to raise himself. He managed to get his knee against the cliff face when the clump of grass he was clinging to came slowly away, and he began his swift, terrifying journey to death.