1953 - The Things Men Do (12 page)

"I'm way out of your class, pally. Take it easy. I want to talk to you."

Those two awful body punches had sapped most of my strength. I had trouble in keeping upright, but rage drove me towards him. I wanted to smash his sneering face even if he killed me while I did it.

He let me come on, then as I hit out, he again swayed away, and again his fist that felt like a mahogany hammer buried itself into my body. I went crashing over backwards and measured my length on the floor. I felt as if my body had fallen apart. I squirmed on to my knees, but that was as far as I got. I had no strength left to push myself upright. I remained there on my knees, my head on my chest, my breath coming out of my open mouth in short, wheezy gasps. Three punches to the body had smashed me and reduced me to the feeble helplessness of a child.

She had warned me not to hit him. Well, at least that hadn't been a lie.

Dix went over to the bed and sat on it. He took out a cigarette, lit it and flicked the match into the fireplace.

"Take it easy, pally. There is plenty of time."

I remained kneeling on the floor. I don't know how long I stayed like that, maybe ten minutes, maybe longer. Then slowly I reached out and grabbed hold of a chair and pulled myself into it. Every movement sent pain through me. I sat forward, bent in half, my arms folded across my belly. I had a horrible idea that if I didn't hold on to myself, my guts would pour out on to the floor.

"I'll get you a drink." He got up and went out of the room.

The radiogram continued to play. The whole business was completely unreal: a deadly kind of nightmare. He didn't come back for some time. I vaguely heard a murmur of voices.

I sat there, holding on to myself, staring down at the white rug, my mind congealed and blank.

He came in after half an hour or so and shoved a, glass of whisky into my hand. I took it and swallowed the whisky in one long, convulsive gulp. My rage had drained out of me. All at was left now was a sick horror of myself and a sicker fear of him.

He sat on the bed again.

"You know, pally. I thought you were going to turn out smarter than you are. When you didn't show up after Gloria had 'phoned you I began to wonder if you had spotted the setup. I don't mind telling you I got a little worried. Up to now the bait has never failed to land a fish. Well, never mind, better late than never. It worked in the end."

The door opened and Berry came in. He was in his shirt sleeves. He looked hot and his hair was lank with sweat "Here they are, Ed. They're still wet, but my stars! aren't they pippins!"

He handed Dix a big white enamelled dish, gave me a cold blank stare and went out, shutting the door behind him.

Dix examined the contents of the dish.

"They're damned good. Here, pally, take a look. How's that for art?"

He came over and put the dish on my knees. The dish contained three quarter-plate sized photographs, fresh out of the hypo bath. When I looked at them I nearly threw up. I didn't have to look twice to see who the man was in the photographs: it was me.

I threw the dish from me, struggled to my feet and let fly a punch at his race.

He blocked the punch with his forearm, then gave me a shove that slammed me back into the chair.

"Relax, pally, or I'll have to hurt you again."

I looked at him. If I had had a gun I would have killed him.

"Take it easy. I want to talk to you." He sat on the bed again. "See that little black disc in the middle of that mirror?

Didn't you ever ask yourself why it was there? I bet you didn't.

No one ever does. It conceals the lens of a sixteen millimetre movie camera. The film in it is worth a couple of thousand to me. Copies of it will go all over the world. You're going to be a well-known and much appreciated movie star, pally." He flicked ash on the white rug, and grinned. "Believe it or not, this room cost me a thousand to equip, but it certainly has paid dividends. I'm telling you all this, pally, because you're one of us now. If you think different, say so, and I'll send some of these pictures to your nice little wife. They should surprise her, and I don't reckon you'd want her to be all that surprised."

I knew he had me. There wasn't a thing I wouldn't do to keep those pictures away from Ann: not a thing.

"That's the set-up, pally," he went on. "You've had a good time, now you've got to pay for it. One false move out of you and I start handing those pictures around. I'll have a job for you in a little while, and you'll do it or else." He leaned forward, his small bright eyes on my face. "I have an idea you have already guessed what I'm up to. Just in case you haven't, I'll tell you. Towards the end of the week, maybe on Saturday or Sunday, a big consignment of industrial diamonds are being sent to the Continent. The consignment will arrive at Eagle Street sorting-office. From there it will be taken to Northolt Airfield by van. I want these diamonds, pally. Everything's laid on, and I expect to get them. Your garage is our operations headquarters. The Jaguar Gloria left with you is one of our get-away cars. We have tapped your phone and Joe is ready to phone a message to me as soon as he sees the van leave. But there's just one little job we haven't take care of. It needs technical knowledge, and that's something you have got. On Friday night you're going to get into the sorting-office and you're going to put the alarm bell that's inside the van out of action. How you do it is up to you, but you'll do it. If you don't I'll call on your wife and give her the pictures. If there's a leak; if you don't pull out the job, I'll know who's been talking out of turn, and I'll fix you and I'll fix your wife. You mightn't think so to look at him, but Louis is one of the best acid throwers in town. Ever seen a girl who's had acid thrown in her face? That's what will happen to your wife if you talk, but I'll give her the pictures first."

He got to his feet.

"Well, I guess that's all, pally. Today's Wednesday. You've got until Friday morning to work out an idea how to put that alarm bell out of action. I'll be in Friday afternoon to hear how you are going to do it. I'll bring one of the pictures with me just in case your brain hasn't worked." He walked over to the door and threw it open. "On your way, pally."

I got up slowly and painfully. I had nothing to say: there was nothing to say. I had walked into a trap with my eyes wide open and the trap had snapped shut. This wasn't the time to look for a way out.

Each step I took to cross the room sent a jar of pain through me. I went slowly into the lounge.

Berry and Louis were sitting up at the bar, whiskies before them. Gloria was lying on the sofa, smoking. Her flame-coloured wrap had fallen open, and her long legs sprawled, one on the settee, and the other dangling to the floor. She didn't look at me as I moved like a cripple across the room to the door.

"See the gent out, Berry," Dix said, following me into the lounge. "Treat him nice. He's a partner in the business now."

Berry slid off his stool and opened the door.

"On your way, sucker," he said, his thin mouth twisting into a sneering grin. "Mind how you fall downstairs."

I groped my way down the stairs to the front door and opened it.

"Just a minute," Berry said, "there's something I want to say to you."

I turned.

I saw his fist coming, but my reflexes were too slow to avoid it. I took a bang in the mouth that sent me reefing into the mews, and before I could regain my balance I went sprawling.

"That's from Gloria with her compliments," Berry said.

"So long, sucker," and he slammed the door.

chapter eleven

A
nn got back soon after eleven o'clock the following morning.

She came briskly down the garage to where I was working with Tim, putting on a new cylinder gasket.

"I'll be up in about ten minutes," I said, waving my oily hands at her to show her I couldn't kiss her. "Did you get on all right?"

"Yes, fine. Did you?"

I knew she was looking searchingly at me, and I knew my white face with the dark shadows under my eyes I had seen when shaving this morning had given her a bit of a shock.

"Had a night out with Bill. Got a head on me this morning, but I'm all right." I smiled at her, meeting her eyes.

"I'll be up in a moment."

She nodded to Tim, and then went on through the office and up the stairs.

It took a little more than half an hour to fix the gasket.

"That does it," I said, and picked up a lump of waste and wiped my hands on it. "I'll leave you to clean up. Don't forget to clean the tools."

"No, Mr. Collins."

I walked back to the office and lit a cigarette.

Around nine-thirty in the morning, Berry had come in to relieve Joe, who had driven away in Berry's Humber. Berry hadn't looked in my direction. He bad locked himself in the partitioned room, and I hadn't seen him since then.

My mouth was a little puffy where he had hit me, and I had two big purple bruises under my heart from Dix's punches.

Outwardly I looked like a man who has had a late night and perhaps three or four drinks too many. Inwardly I was like a frozen block of stone.

By betraying Ann I had landed myself into a trap from which there seemed to be no escape. If it wasn't for Ann, I might have been able to do something about it, but with Dix's threat to throw acid at her and to show her those pictures, I was ham-strung.

Thinking about it, I realized now the trap had been sprung from the moment I had first met Gloria on Western Avenue. She must have followed me in the Buick when I had left the garage to go to Lewis's help out at Northolt, and had staged her breakdown where she knew I would have to pass her.

If I had listened to Ann and to my own conscience I wouldn't be in this trap now. I had deliberately done the wrong thing, and now it looked as if both of us would have to pay for it.

But oddly enough, I had got my second wind. Last night, after I had returned to the empty flat, I was nearly out of my mind with funk. I couldn't see any way out. At first I had decided the only thing I could do was to tell Ann the truth, then go to the police and tell them the whole sordid story and ask for protection.

But the more I thought about it, the more impossible such a solution became. I knew I couldn't go to Ann and tell her I had broken my promise not to see Gloria again. I couldn't admit that I had been unfaithful to her. I had walked up and down the sitting-room until dawn, wracking my brains for a way out, and after a while I began to recover my nerve.

I had been played for a sucker and I had been fooled all along the line. The realization of this made me viciously angry.

The situation was now something personal between Dix and myself. I hated him as I had never thought it possible to hate anyone. I became determined to beat him at his own game. I had no idea how I was going to do it, but sooner or later, the chance must come and I would take it.

I don't want you to imagine I have always been such a weak, despicable fool. Since the war, I admit I had become soft, but during the war, I had built for myself a reputation as an individual fighter. Then I had been pretty tough. When a patrol went out after prisoners I was always chosen to lead it.

If there was a sentry to be silenced before a raid, I was given the job. Towards the end of the war Bill and I had been transferred to the Burma patrol where we specialized in ambushing and killing Japs. Killing became my business, and it was only when I got out of the Army and met Ann that I began to relax. Five years of marriage and civilian life had made me soft: one night in Dix's company had turned the clock back.

I wasn't soft any longer. I wanted to kill Dix. Nothing less would satisfy me. He had got me into this trap. He was going to send that film throughout the poison spots of the world for degenerates to snigger at. He was forcing me to put Bill into danger. He had threatened to throw acid at Ann. By these four things he had given me the right to take his life.

At the moment he held all the cards, but sooner or later, he must play one badly, and then I'd step in. In the meantime I had decided to let him imagine he had got me where he wanted me. I intended to lull his suspicions and wait for my chance, and when it came, I would take it.

It was odd, too, that I had no misgivings about looking Ann in the face. The set-up was too serious for me to feel guilty about something that was already in the past, and which would never happen again. Her happiness and mine were involved now. I had got us into the trap, I had to get us out of it. It was now between Dix and myself. Ann didn't come into it.

I went upstairs where Ann was preparing lunch. As I stood at the kitchen sink, washing my hands, I felt she was watching me anxiously. I turned to smile at her.

"You look pale, Harry."

"I feel pale," I said, wiping my hands on the roller-towel.

"I don't think my supper agreed with me. It was too greasy and then I drank too much beer. Otherwise I'm fine."

I knew she wanted to believe me, and the fact I could meet her eyes quieted her misgivings.

"You look odd somehow, Harry. You remind me of how you used to look when we first met: tough and angry with the world."

I laughed.

"I'll be angry with you if you don't get my lunch ready."

I slid my arm round her and hugged her.

"Harry, when are those men going? Are they going to be here much longer?"

"They've paid for a month, so I suppose they'll stay a month. I don't know."

"Will you let them stay on after the end of the month?"

I knew there was no chance of them staying on: they would probably be gone by next week.

"Not if you don't want them to."

"I know the money's important . . ."

"Now, stop worrying your brains about them. Let's eat."

After lunch I did something I had never done before. I crossed the street and walked into the sorting-office. I found myself in a big concrete floored shed full of mail vans. Men in brown overalls were piling mail bags into several of the vans.

Everyone seemed busy, and for a minute or so no one noticed me.