Read 1945 - Blonde's Requiem Online

Authors: James Hadley Chase

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BOOK: 1945 - Blonde's Requiem
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When she didn

t elaborate, I said,

What are his chances of becoming mayor?

She made more fingerprints before saying:

Very good, I believe. The workers like him.

I thought there was a hint in her voice that she liked him too. But I couldn

t swear to that.

Anyway, I couldn

t imagine the workers liking Wolf, but I didn

t say so.

Mr. Wolf thinks that if he finds the girls he

ll win popularity and get elected mayor, is that it?

She nodded.

Something like that.


What does Esslinger say?


He

s started an investigation too.

I was vaguely surprised.

Who

s working for him?


Cranville has its own local agent,

she said.

Mr. Esslinger didn

t want strangers meddling with Cranville

s private affairs.

I looked at her sharply.

That sounds as if you agree with him.

She flushed and said:

My opinions don

t matter.

There was a pause while I stared at her, then I said:

Why didn

t Mr. Wolf employ your local agent?

Her mouth tightened.

He hasn

t any confidence in women,

she told me.


You see, the agency

s run by a woman.

That was comforting news to me, I didn

t have much confidence in women myself. I thought for a moment and then asked:

What do the police think?


They won

t help either Mr. Wolf or Mr. Esslinger. Chief of Police Macey has his own candidate.

I laughed.

Her mouth looked less prim, but she didn

t look up.

It

s a little complicated,

she admitted.

Chief of Police Macey wants Rube Starkey to be mayor, so he is carrying out his own investigation.


Who

s Starkey?

She shook her head.

I

m afraid I don

t know anything about him except he

s a gambler and I don

t think he

s a very desirable person to be mayor.


Well, that

s not bad considering you don

t know anything about him,

I said, with a smile.

What about these girls? Any angles?


They

ve just disappeared. Nothing has been found so far.


I see.

I selected a cigarette from my ease and lit it. This looked a hell of a case.

Let me get all this right. There are three separate investigations going on to find these girls. Wolf, Esslinger and Macey know that whoever finds them has the best chance of becoming mayor. I

m not likely to get any help from the police and I won

t be popular in Cranville because I

m an outsider. Esslinger

s investigator is likely to get support from Cranville, but not from the, police. Thu about it, isn

t it?

She said it was.

I remembered the bunch of men who had surrounded my car. If that was going to happen to me every five minutes, I was going to have a swell time.


Excitement is pretty high, isn

t it?


People are worried because nothing

s been done,

she said.

Some of them went down to police headquarters and broke some windows last night.

She sounded very calm about it all.

I thought they

d be breaking my neck if I didn

t watch out.


Can you give me the names and addresses of all the people you

ve mentioned?

She opened a drawer and took out a sheet of paper.

I thought you

d want that,

she said.

I thanked her and put the paper in my pocket.


I

ll poke around,

I said, getting up.

Maybe I

ll have something for Mr. Wolf in a day or so.

She suddenly looked straight at me. It was a shock to see she was hating me. Being a worker, I guessed she was on Esslinger

s side. With Wolf for a boss, I didn

t blame her, but it was a shock all the same. I could see how complicated it was all going to be.


Is there somewhere where I can leave my car?

I asked.

She looked puzzled.

Leave your car?

she repeated.


It carries New York licence plates. They don

t seem popular around here. Some guys have already told me so.

For a split second she looked pleased, then she got her expression under control.

You can leave it in the garage around toe back. There

s plenty of room.

I thanked her.

I didn

t get your name,

I said at the door.


Wilson.

She flushed and looked embarrassed.


You

ve been a big help, Miss Wilson,

I said.

I hope I haven

t taken up too much of your time.

She said it was all right and pulled the typewriter towards her.

* * *

I booked a room at the Eastern Hotel on Main Street, dumped my bags and went out into the heat again. I took a cab out to McArthur

s place.

The cab driver seemed to be in a hurry to get rid of me. He went through a red light with a policeman standing a yard away. The policeman didn

t even bother to look up. I thought Chief of Police Macey must be a pretty dumb cop.

Four minutes

furious driving brought us to a grim, sordid street, flanked either side by dirty tenements. Metal fire escapes crawled up the front of the buildings and men and women stood or sat on the iron steps in isolated groups.

Faces looked into the street at the sound of the cab. Some of the women shouted in through the open windows, not wanting their husbands to miss anything.

I knew I had made a mistake coming in a cab. I told the driver to keep on.


The address you want is right here,

he said, slowing down.

I told him to keep going, and with a quick scowl over his shoulder he drove on. At the end of the street he turned left and I told him to stop. I gave him fifty cents and walked away before he could say anything.

I walked round the block, giving the rubbernecks time to calm down. Then I sauntered down the street towards McArthur

s place.

All the way I felt eyes watching me. I didn

t look up, but I knew the rubbernecks were wondering who I was and who I was going to see. That

s the worst of working a small town like Cranville. Everyone knows everyone else and a stranger sticks out like a boil.

McArthur

s place was a five-storey brick building, halfway down the street. I was glad to get into the lobby, out of the sight of prying eyes. There were six mailboxes; McArthur was on the third floor.

I went up. The stairs were uncarpeted, but clean. There was a stale smell of cooking, but otherwise the house wasn

t so bad.

I rapped on a door on the third floor and waited.

The door was opened by a little man in shirt, trousers and slippers. He wore no collar and he hadn

t shaved. His thin, yellow face looked sad.

Yes, please?

he asked, peering at me through thick glasses.


Mr. McArthur?

He nodded. I could see he was surprised to be called mister. He looked like a guy who had been kicked around plenty in his day.


It

s about your daughter,

I said, watching him carefully.

Fear and hope crowded into his eyes and he had to steady himself against the door.

Have—have they found her?

he said with pathetic, crushed eagerness.


Not yet.

I moved a step forward.

I

d like to come in a moment.

His face sagged with disappointment, but he stood aside.

We

re in a bit of a mess,

he muttered apologetically.

It ain

t easy to keep things going with this hanging over us.

I made sympathetic noises and closed the door. The room was clean, small and poorly furnished. Some stockings and women

s underclothes hung on a string across one side of the room.

McArthur stood by the table and looked at me questioningly.

Who did you say you were from?

I took out my identity card and waved the shield at him. Before he could take a good look, it was back in my pocket.

I

m checking on your daughter

s disappearance,

I said.

Give me the help I want and I

ll get her back.


Of course,

he said eagerly.

What did you want to know? So many people have been around asking questions.

He twisted his fingers.

But nothing

s been done.

I sat on the corner of the table.

What do you think

s happened to her?


I don

t know.

He tried to control, his hands, but he wasn

t successful. They reminded me of two white fluttering moths.

I don

t seem able to think properly since it happened.


Was she unhappy at home? I mean do you think she

s run away or something like that?

He shook his head helplessly.

She was a good girl. She had a good job and she was happy.


Do you believe this stuff about a mass-killer being at large?

He sat down abruptly and hid his face in his hands.

I don

t know.

He wasn

t helping much.


You know these disappearances are being used to gain votes for the coming election,

I said as patiently as I could.

It

s not possible, is it, that these girls are being paid to duck out of sight? I mean your girl wouldn

t do a thing like that?


Whatever

s happened to Luce has happened against her will,

he whispered.


You don

t think she

s dead, do you, mister?

I thought it was likely, but I didn

t say so. Before I could go on, the door jerked open and a big, grey-haired woman came in. Her eyes were swollen and red and stony.


Who is it, Tom?

she said, going to him.

McArthur looked vague and uneasy.

Someone about Luce.


It

s all right, Mrs. McArthur,

I said hastily,

I

m helping with the investigation.

She looked me over and her mouth tightened.

You

re working for Wolf.

She got excited about that. Turning on McArthur, she said:

You fool! Why did you let him in? He

s Wolf

s spy.

McArthur looked pleadingly at her.

He

s going to help,

he explained anxiously.

We want all the help we can, Mary.

She walked to the door and threw it open.

Get out!

she said to me.

I shook my head.

You don

t understand, Mrs. McArthur,

I said soothingly.


The more people in on this, the quicker we

ll get results. You want your daughter back and I can help you. It won

t cost you-anything.


He

s right, Mary,

McArthur said eagerly.

He only wants to help.


I

m taking no help from a louse like Wolf,

the woman said, and she went out, closing the door violently.

McArthur wrung his hands.

You

d better go,

he said.

She

s gone for her brother.

I didn

t care if she

d gone for the Marines.

Take it easy,

I said, not moving.


Why does she hate Wolf? What

s he done to get het that way?


Most folks hate him. Leastways, those who

ve worked for him,

McArthur said, looking anxiously at the door.

You

ll find them all the same.

The woman came back. With her was a thickset man of about forty. He was full of toughness and self-confidence.


Is this the fella?

he said to Mrs. McArthur.


Yes.

There was a triumphant note in her voice which annoyed me.

He came over to me.

Get out and stay out,

he said, poking his finger at my chest.

We don

t want a spying louse like you around here.

I took his finger and gave it a little jerk. It was a trick I

d picked up from a guy who

d spent some time in China.

The man fell on his knees with a howl of pain and I grinned at him.

Don

t be a sissy,

I said, helping him up.

Can

t you take a joke?

He toppled into a chair and held his hand, moaning.

I went to the door.

You

re all crazy,

I said to them.

Can

t you see you

re wasting time? I can find the girl if you

ll let me. It

s your business, of course, but she

s been missing for four weeks. No one

s turned up anything yet. If that gives you confidence, then I

m sorry for you. If I don

t find her, I

ll find the other two. By that time she won

t be worth finding. Think it over. I

m at the Eastern Hotel. If you want my help, come and see me. And don

t think I care one way or the other.

I didn

t stop to see how they took it, but walked out of the room and closed the door quietly behind me.

BOOK: 1945 - Blonde's Requiem
11.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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