1977 - My Laugh Comes Last (13 page)

'Excuse me for a moment, Fred,' I said. 'I want to wash up.'

‘You go ahead.' He sipped the whisky and sighed. ‘Now that's what I call the genuine stuff.'

I put the bottle and charge water on a table by his side, then I went into my bedroom. I put the envelope into a briefcase which I had already wrapped in cellophane. Going into the kitchen, I found a sheet of brown paper and string and made a parcel of the briefcase. All this took less than fifteen minutes.

Carrying the parcel, I returned to the living-room. Maclain was humming softly. I saw the level in the whisky bottle had shrunk.

‘Damn fine whisky, Mr. Lucas.'

I went to my desk and addressed the parcel to Brannigan at the Californian National Bank, Los Angeles.

'Can I ask a favour, Fred?'

He blinked blearily at me, 'For you. Sure . . . anything.'

He poured more whisky into his glass, drank, sighed and shook his head in appreciation.

'I have here in this parcel some important papers for Mr. Brannigan,' I said, hoping he wasn't, by now, too drunk to understand. 'Would you lock this parcel in your safe, Fred?'

He gaped at me, 'Put it in the bank, Mr. Lucas.'

'I told Mr. Brannigan I would give the parcel to you for safe-keeping,' I said. 'He went along with the idea. He thinks a lot of you, Fred. He told me you would be the next sheriff if he has anything to do with it, and you know Mr. Brannigan draws a lot of water.'

Maclain's bloated face lit up with a delighted grin.

'He said that? Mr. Brannigan?'

'That's what he said.'

‘Yeah, and he's right.' He levered himself out of his chair.

'For Mr. Brannigan, any favour.'

'I want you to keep this parcel in your safe, Fred. If you don't hear from me on Monday morning, I want you to deliver this parcel in person to Mr. Brannigan. Monday morning after ten o'clock, and not before. Now listen, Fred, this parcel is important. When you drive to Los Angeles, take one of your boys with you. Mr. Brannigan would appreciate this, and don't give this parcel to anyone except Mr. Brannigan.'

Maclain again gaped at me.

"Well, okay. I'll take care of it. On Monday morning, huh?'

'That's it. When Mr. Brannigan gets this parcel, you can reckon on becoming the sheriff of Sharnville.'

He hitched up his gun belt, pushed his Stetson hat to the back of his head and grinned drunkenly at me.

'Consider it done, Mr. Lucas.'

'Thanks, Fred. Let's go. I'll drive you back. I want to see this parcel locked in your safe.'

'Sure.' He bent forward and splashed more whisky into his glass, drank the whisky, grunted, grinned at me, then holding the parcel under his arm, he went with me to the elevator.

At the police station, I watched him lock the parcel in the big safe.

'Okay, Fred, unless you hear from me before ten o'clock on Monday, take this parcel with an escort to Mr. Brannigan.'

'Sure, Mr. Lucas. I'll take care of it.' He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. 'That was fine whisky.'

I left him and returned to my car.

Sitting in the passenger's seat, his hat at the back of his head, was Benny.

chapter six

H
i, fink,' Benny said, grinning evilly. 'The boss wants you. Let's move.'

'I'll see him tomorrow night at nine,' I said. "Now, get out!'

‘You'll see him right now, fink, or I'll start breaking your whore's fingers. Let's move.'

I placed my hand on the horn button.

"Listen to me, Benny, you touch her, and the operation is off. I'll see Klaus tomorrow night, and not before. Get out or I'll start the horn, and you'll get a load of law in your lap.'

We stared at each other. There was an uneasy, frustrated rage in his eyes.

'Get out!' I repeated.

'I told the boss you'd be a smart sonofabitch, but don't kid yourself, fink, I'll take care of you.'

At this moment, a patrolman came out of the station house. He paused, then came over to my car.

'Evening, Mr. Lucas,' he said. 'You can't park here.'

'Hi, Tom.' I knew most of the patrolmen. 'I'm on my way.'

Turning to Benny, I said, 'Then tomorrow. So long.'

Benny hesitated, then aware that the patrolman was staring at him, he slid out of the car and walked across the street.

'Who's he?' the patrolman asked. 'I haven't seen him around.'

'Business, Tom.' I forced a smile. 'They come in all shapes and sizes,' then nodding, I drove down the street. I stopped outside a Howard Johnson restaurant and went in. I ordered a club sandwich, and while I ate it, I thought about Glenda.

She was now very much on my mind. I felt that I had enough on Klaus not only to stop the breakin, but to get Glenda away from him. With the evidence I had given Maclain to guard, I was sure I had Klaus trapped. I couldn't see how he could wriggle out of it. I knew I was taking a risk, dealing with a psychopath, but it seemed to me he would either have to accept defeat or eventually be jailed for years once Brannigan and the police came after him.

I spent a restless night, half sleeping, half dozing. I kept thinking of Glenda, and the more I thought of her, the more I realized how much she meant to me. If I could call Klaus's bluff, stop the bank breakin, make him leave Sharnville, then my life would once again be on an even keel. Now Marsh was dead, there was nothing to stop me marrying Glenda, always providing Klaus disappeared.

I was glad I had so much office work to do the following day. The rush of work prevented me worrying about the evening when I had to face Klaus. In the afternoon, Bill Dixon phoned through to say he had landed another contract to build a small factory to produce electrical components, and they wanted office furniture. Could I see the director on Monday to discuss exactly what he wanted? I said there would be no problem, and fixed a time. As I hung up, I wondered if I would still be in Sharnville on Monday, If I couldn't bluff Klaus, then I would be on the run.

I considered writing a letter to Bill Dixon, enclosing a copy of my statement to Brannigan in case I had to get out fast, but I decided I still had all day Friday and half Friday night to decide which way the dice would fall.

If I were forced to go on the run, I would need cash. I checked my bank statement. I had some eight thousand dollars in my account. I wrote a cheque for this amount, then telling Mary I was going to the bank and would be back right away, I left my office.

As I was waiting for the traffic lights to change, I spotted Joe,-propping up a fire hydrant. He and I looked at each other, then the lights changed and I crossed. I went into the lobby of the bank, signed my name with a computer pen, fed the cheque into the slot, and after a minute or so, the money dropped into the pay-out slot. I put the bills into my hip pocket and returned to my office block. Joe was still propping up the fire hydrant. I ignored him, pushed open the glass doors and took the elevator up to my office.

I spent the rest of the day clearing my desk. There was a mass of outstanding work still to be done, and if I had to bolt, I didn't want Bill to be landed with too much work.

At 19.00, I told Mary to go home. When she had gone, I put the copy of my statement to Brannigan and the two tapes into my briefcase. Then picking up a small tape player, I locked up and went down to my car.

As I was unlocking the car door, Joe materialized out of the shadows.

‘You seeing the boss tonight, Mr. Lucas?' There was an anxious note in his voice.

'I'm seeing him, Joe,' I said. "You don't have to hang around me. I'll be there at nine.'

'The boss told me to keep tabs on you, Mr. Lucas. I do what I'm told.'

'I'm going to have dinner. Come with me,' I said, and got in my car. Leaning over, I unlocked the passenger's door.

Joe gaped at me.

'I can't eat with you.'

'Oh, skip it, Joe. I know a place. You may as well eat if you have to keep tabs on me.'

He hesitated, then got in beside me.

I drove to a small restaurant that employed black staff.

The restaurant was noted for its steaks, and I often ate there.

Joe seemed to relax as he settled himself at a corner table.

There were more blacks than whites at the tables, and the black waiter gave him a friendly smile.

'Two steaks, rare,' I said, 'and beers.'

I took out a pack of cigarettes and offered it to Joe who shook his head.

'I don't smoke, Mr. Lucas.'

As I lit up, I said, 'Time's running out, Joe. Are you still going ahead with it?'

He moved uneasily.

'Like you, Mr. Lucas, I've got to do what I'm told.'

‘You don't. You can get on a bus and disappear.'

He stared at me.

'Why should I do that?'

'Better to disappear than get a bullet through your head.'

He flinched.

‘You said Harry, you and me would watch Benny.'

'I've talked to Harry. He's worrying about himself. He's not worrying about you, Joe. I can understand that. I'm worrying about myself.'

The steaks arrived with the beer. I began to eat my steak, but Joe sat still, staring down at his plate, his face creased in a worried frown.

'Come on, Joe, eat up,' I said. 'I could be wrong about Benny, but if I were black, I would get the hell out of Sharnville. I would rather have my life than risk Benny.'

'I've no place to go,' he muttered. 'I've got no money.'

While his mind was occupied with his troubles, I shot out, 'How's Miss Glenda, Joe?'

Off guard, he looked up.

'She's having it rough, Mr. Lucas. That Benny . . .' Then he stopped short.

I stiffened, ‘What's Benny doing to her Joe?'

He began to toy with his steak.

‘You see, Mr. Lucas, I don't hang around the place nor does Harry, but Benny stays there all the time. He's the boss's bodyguard. He's got nothing to do but to pester Miss Glenda, and he sure does.'

‘You realize your boss has kidnapped her, Joe?'

He chewed on his steak while he thought about this, then he shook his head.

'That ain't right, Mr. Lucas. She works for him.’

'She has been forced to work for him, and she is being held prisoner. In law, Joe, that makes your boss, you, Harry and Benny kidnappers. You get a much longer stretch for kidnapping than for breaking into a bank.'

His eyes shifted.

'I know nothing about the law,' he mumbled. 'I do what I'm told . . . like you, I've got to.'

'Would you help me free her, Joe?'

His eyes grew round.

'The boss wouldn't dig that, Mr. Lucas.'

'Never mind about him, think of yourself. If you helped me to get her free, you wouldn't go to jail as a kidnapper.'

'How would I help you?' he asked, and cut another piece of steak.

'Is Harry out there tonight?'

'He's gone to Frisco about the truck.'

'So there's only Benny, your boss and Miss Glenda there?'

He nodded.

'Do you know where she is, Joe?'

'Sure. She's in a room at the back of the house.'

'Is the door locked?'

'Not locked: it's bolted on the outside.'

I pushed aside my plate. Then taking out the bills I had drawn from the bank, keeping them out of sight under the table, I peeled off five one-thousand dollar bills. The rest of the money I put back in my pocket.

‘The bank operation is off, Joe,' I said. ‘Don't ask questions: take it from me it is off. Here's your chance to get away. I'll give you five thousand dollars if you'll get Miss Glenda out of that house.'

His eyes bugged out.

'Five thousand bucks?' He put down his knife and fork and stared at me. ‘You'll give me five thousand bucks?'

There was no one sitting at the table near us, so I showed him the bills. He gaped at them.

'Now, listen, Joe. It's easy. This is what you do. I'll drive you out to, the house and leave you at the end of the lane. While I'm talking to Klaus, you get in, go to Miss Glenda's room, get her out and put her in my car. Drive her to the Sherwood Hotel and leave her there. Tell her I'll join her later. That's all you have to do. Then drive back, leave my car by the gate, then beat it. At the highway, you can get a bus. With five thousand dollars you can get lost. You won't have to worry about a kidnapping rap nor being arrested for trying to break into the bank. What do you say?'

He screwed up his eyes while he thought. I waited, my hands clammy, my heart thumping. Finally, he shook his head.

'There's three million in that bank. Five grand is peanuts.’

‘Don't be a fool, Joe! I've told you there's not going to be a breakin.' I picked up my briefcase, standing on the floor by my side, took out my statement to Brannigan and handed it to him. 'Read that.'

It took him nearly ten minutes to read the statement. He traced each word with a thick finger, frowning, and holding the two sheets of paper close to his face as if he were short-sighted. Finally, he finished, then stared at me.

‘The boss will kill you, Mr. Lucas.'

‘No, he won't. A copy is already in the hands of the police. They read it on Monday morning and they will go into action. They have the forged bonds with Klaus's prints on them. By this time tomorrow, Joe, he'll be miles away, and he won't be worrying about you.'

‘You mention me in this,' Joe said, tapping the statement, 'But no description, Joe. If you free Miss Glenda, with this money, you haven't a care in the world.'

Again he screwed up his eyes while he thought.

‘You sure played it smart, Mr. Lucas. Yeah. I've thought about what you said the other night. I can't imagine Benny letting me walk away with a big lump of money even if we did get into the bank. Yeah, I guess I'd be smart to play along with you.'

I drew in a long, deep breath.

All my nights of thinking had paid off!

'So you'll get her out, Joe, and take her to the Sherwood Hotel?'

‘Yeah. That's what I'll do. Then I'll bring your car back and get me out of Sharnville pronto.'

I studied his black, sweating face. I felt I could trust him.

‘Don't worry about Benny. I'll get him in the room with Klaus. Give me exactly ten minutes from the time I enter the house. Have you a watch?'