1953 - The Things Men Do (20 page)

I didn't hurry in case the detective had concealed himself somewhere and was watching me. I felt naked as I moved along the sunlit, deserted street.

I didn't even pause at the corner, but turned into Queen's Avenue without hesitation.

The detective was within twenty yards of me, moving Away from me, a disconsolate slouch to his shoulders.

He couldn't fail to see me if he looked round, and for a moment I very nearly panicked. Then I got hold of myself and looked quickly at the number of the house near me. It was No. 7. Berry's flat was in the house next door but one to No. 7, thirty yards or so farther up the road.

The detective kept on, and with my heart in my mouth, I walked silently behind him. He passed No. 3. I was walking now on tip-toe, scarcely breathing, praying that he wouldn't look round.

He didn't look round, but kept on up Queen's Avenue towards Hyde Park.

I reached the steps leading to No. 3 and ran up them into the shelter of the open doorway.

For a moment I stood still while I recovered my breath, then I turned to examine the indicator board in the hall. The top fiat was the one I was looking for.

3a Jack Berry, 5th floor.

There was no lift and I started up the stairs. On the second landing I went over to the window and looked into the street.

I had only just got under cover in time. A police car was swinging to a standstill fifty yards or so up the road, and the detective who had shadowed me was running towards it.

I moved away from the window and continued up the stairs. There were five flats in the building, and five flights of stairs to climb. I met no one and beard nothing. It was still early: a few minutes after ten o'clock. The tenants probably were still in bed earning their Sunday rest.

I stopped outside Berry's front door and putting my ear to the panel I listened for some seconds, but I heard nothing.

I turned the door handle and pushed gently, expecting the door to be locked, but it opened and I stepped into a small hall.

The first thing I saw brought me to an abrupt stop. By the door stood two suitcases and over them lay an overcoat and a brown slouch hat.

It looked as if Berry were still here, and it was then I wished I had a gun.

I closed the front door quietly and moved over to a door across the hall. I listened against the panels, but again heard nothing. Very gently I turned the handle and pushed the door open just wide enough for me to see inside.

The room was a large one, well furnished with lounge settees and arm-chairs, and against the far end of the room by the windows was a well-stocked bar.

I moved cautiously into the room, my eyes going to a half-open door facing me which I guessed led into the bedroom.

I crossed to the door, making no sound and peered into the room.

Berry lay flat on his back on a divan bed. He was fully dressed. His face was the colour of old tallow. His eyes were closed and he seemed scarcely to breathe.

By his side, within reach of his hand, was an automatic pistol.

chapter sixteen

I
moved silently across the room, and as I reached the bed, Berry's eyes opened. We looked at each other. Then he made a desperate clutch at the gun, but I beat him to it. My hand closed over the butt as his hand closed over the barrel. I jerked the gun out of his grasp and stood back.

"Hello," I said.

He stared up at me. I could see a damp patch on the pillow surrounding his head, and looking more closely, I saw he had sweated right through his clothes.

"Collins!" he gasped in a husky whisper. "I thought it was the cops."

"Not this time, but they're outside. They're looking for me."

"Am I glad to see you," he said. "I've been waiting hours. Gimme a drink, will you? You don't know what I've been through."

"What's the matter with you?" I sat at the foot of the bed, holding the gun with the barrel pointing down at the floor.

"It's my back. That bastard threw me. I must have fractured my spine."

"What have you got to grumble about? The bastard as you call him is dead. Dix shot him."

Berry's eyes narrowed.

"That's nothing to do with me. What are you doing here?"

"The police are hunting for me. They imagine I'm one of your crowd. Funny, Isn't it? You fellows collect three hundred thousand pounds' worth of diamonds and I get the blame. They might even hang me if they catch me."

"They wouldn't do that," Berry said quickly. "They wouldn't hang me either, I didn't kill him."

"The diamonds don't seem to be doing you much good now, do they?"

"Never mind about the diamonds. Get me a drink, will you? And get me a doctor. Don't sit there staring at me. I've been lying here for hours. At first it hurt like hell, but it's stopped hurting now." His voice shook. "It scares me. I can't feel my legs anymore."

"Bill Yates can't feel anything anymore."

"What are you talking about? Look, for the love of Mike, give me a drink!"

"Can’t you move?"

Barry swore at me.

"Don't I keep telling you! I've busted my back. I can't feel my legs. I can't even raise my head. You've got to get to get a doctor to me."

"Why didn't Dix or Joe or Louis send for a doctor?"

Berry closed his eyes.

"Joe said he was going to. Maybe he couldn't get hold of one."

"Are you trying to kid me?"

"What do you mean?"

"They've left you here to die, that's what I mean."

"No! They wouldn't do a thing like that," he gasped.

"Maybe they're in a jam themselves. What does it matter now? You're here. Get me a doctor. Use the phone over there. Call a hospital."

"They might hang you."

"Don't talk crazy. They don't know who I am. They don't know I pulled the job. I can say I had a fall. Get on the phone, damn you!"

"Where's Dix?"

He stared at me, his thin, hard mouth working.

"How do I know? Will you get a doctor?"

I took out a packet of cigarettes, lit one and put the packet back while he lay snarling at me.

"For God's sake! Can't you see how bad I am? Gimme a drink. There's Scotch in the other room. I haven't had a filing for hours. Gimme a drink and call the hospital!"

"Where's Dix?"

A furious, trapped expression came into his eyes.

"I'll fix you, Collins, if you don't do what I say! If you don't get on to a hospital I'll see your goddam wife gets those art pictures!"

I leaned forward and smacked his face hard enough to jerk his head to one side. He gave a sharp, stifled scream, his eyes rolled back and he went limp.

I got to my feet, and bending over him, I felt his pulse. It was beating feebly. By the look of him I didn't think he was going to last long. I didn't want him to die before he told me where Dix was. He must know. If he didn't, then I was sunk.

I went into the other room and over to the bar. I mixed a weak whisky and water. Before returning to the bedroom, I paused to look out of the window.

The police car had gone, and there was no sign of anyone in the street below.

I went into the bedroom, and poured a little of the whisky and water between Berry's lips. He gasped, opened his eyes and looked dazedly up at me.

"Come on," I said. "You wanted this, so drink it."

He drank what was in the glass and then closed his eyes again. I didn't like the look of him. The flesh on his face sagged, and his breathing came in slow, laboured gasps.

I decided to let him rest for a few minutes before asking him again, and turned my attention to the big wardrobe by the door.

It contained several suits. I took down a fawn-coloured sports coat and a pair of dark brown whipcord trousers. I tried on the coat. It was a little loose on me, but the fit was good enough. I found a yellow linen shirt and a hand-painted orange and red tie.

I stripped off my own clothes and changed into the clothes I had chosen. On a shelf in the wardrobe I found a grey, slouch hat. It was a shade too big for me, but by jutting a strip of newspaper behind the hat band it fitted well enough.

I surveyed myself in the mirror. I had been wearing a blue double-breasted suit without a hat. This gaudy outfit I know had on changed my appearance from a distance in a startling way! I looked like an American tourist, and so long as I could keep a fair distance between myself and any detective, I had no misgivings that I would be recognised.

I next unearthed a pair of brown and white, reverse calf shoes which fitted me as if they had been made for me.

Hunting through the drawers in the wardrobe I came upon a pair of dark green sunglasses, and when I put them on and put on the hat I was satisfied my disguise was complete.

I took off the hat and glasses and went back to Berry.

He lay watching me, his face lined with pain.

"Where's Dix?" I asked, bending over him.

He closed his eyes.

"If you want a doctor you'd better tell me."

"I don't know."

"You must know where he was heading. Where did you plan to meet him before you were hurt?"

His eyes shift.

"We were going to meet here."

"You're lying. He wouldn't come here." I reached out and took hold of his shirt front. "You're going to tell me. If I pull you upright it'll kill you, and that's what I'm going to do if you don't tell me."

''Leave me alone!"

"Where's Dix?"

I tightened my grip and moved him slightly.

Sweat jumped out of his face and he screamed out.

"Stop it! Don't do it!"

"Where's Dix?"

He put his hand on my wrist and his nails cut into my skin as he tried feebly to break my hold. Again I lifted him a fraction of an inch. His eyes started out of his head and he screamed out again.

"I'll tell you."

Very carefully I relaxed my grip.

"Where, is he?"

"Monk's Farm, Ilmer," he groaned.

"That's near Princes Risborough, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Come on," I said roughly, "you're washed up, Berry. Don't kid yourself they'll come back for you. Why should they when they can get away with all that money and leave you to carry the can. Where do they go from Ilmer? Are they planning to leave the country?"

All resistance seemed to have gone out of him.

"Yes. When it's dark a hover plane's going to pick them up. There's a field at the back of the farm. They're going to Paris."

I stood away from the bed. I couldn't be absolutely sure he was telling the truth, but I had an idea he was.

"Where are the negatives of those pictures you took of me?"

"Get me a doctor," he groaned.

I caught hold of his shirt front again.

"Where are they?"

His eyes snapped open.

"Don't touch me. They're in the desk in the other room. Get me a doctor, Collins. I'll do anything you say if you'll get me a doctor."

I smiled at him.

"Didn't you hear what I said? The police are outside watching for me. I don't want a doctor to find me here. You'll have to wait."

I went into the other room, searched through the desk and found a wooden box packed full of negatives and prints.

The pictures of Gloria and me were on top of the rest of them.

I had to go through a lot of muck before I found the negatives.

I carried the box over to the fireplace, emptied the contents into the grate and set fire to it.

I thought of the misery that was going up in those flames; of the men like myself who had stepped out of line and had been blackmailed probably for years.

I wondered if there were any more-prints of the negatives in existence. There would be time to go into that later on. Even though I had told Ann what I had done, I still couldn't bear the thought of her seeing those pictures.

I returned to the desk and wait through every drawer. I found about thirty pounds and some odd silver in a tin cash-box which I didn't hesitate to put in my pocket. I also found an ignition key I guessed belonged to Berry's Humber and another larger key with a label attached on which was scrawled: Garage No. 3.

That gave me an idea. I went into the kitchen that overlooked the back of the building. Below in the mews I could see a row of garage lock-ups.

I returned to the bedroom.

"Is your car in the garage?"

"You're not going to leave me!" he gasped. "You're going to help me, aren't you?"

"Is your car in the garage?" I repeated.

"Yes, but before you go, you'll call a doctor, won't you?"

"If you want a doctor so badly, call him yourself," I said, coming to the foot of the bed and looking down at him. "I wouldn't raise a finger to help a rat like you. I was going to kill you, but now I don't have to. You haven't much longer to live. A doctor can't do anything for you." I waved my hand towards the telephone. "If you think he can, go ahead, and call him. I'm not stopping you." I picked up the grey hat and the sunglasses and made for the door.

"Collins!" he gasped. "Don't leave me! I'm sorry for what I did to you. Don't leave me to die here alone."

"So long," I said, opening the door. "If you're lucky your pals will do something for you, but I doubt it. You're not fit to live. While you're waiting to die, think of all the mugs you photographed and blackmailed. It'll take your mind off yourself."

I went out of the room and shut the door.

In the hall I opened and examined the two suitcases. I repacked one, taking the most useful articles such as a suit of dark brown material, some shirts, shoes, shaving kit, another automatic, a half-pint flask of brandy and about ten thousand francs, from the two cases.

I could hear Berry feebly calling, but I paid no attention.

I had a gun, money, a car and a change of clothes. I was ready now to settle my score with Dix.

chapter seventeen

I
drove the big Humber along the narrow mews and out into Queen's Avenue.

At the top of the avenue I spotted the police car drawn up by the kerb. The detective who had been following me stood by the car, talking to the driver. Both of them glanced at me as I drove towards them. I kept on at a Steady pace. I had the slouch hat pulled well down over my eyes and I was wearing the big sunglasses. Although I was confident they wouldn't recognize me, it was a tricky moment as I passed them.