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Authors: James Hadley Chase

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BOOK: 1977 - My Laugh Comes Last
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He swung the car into a narrow road and drove to a ranch-style house, half hidden by trees, He stopped before a farm gate, and a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Harry. He opened the gate, and as Joe drove forward, Harry waved to me. I ignored him. Joe drove to the entrance of the house and pulled up.

Lights showed in six windows.

Joe got out and went around and opened my door.

'Here we are, Mr. Lucas.'

As I got out, Benny appeared.

'Come on, fink,' Benny said, and catching hold of my arm in a vice-like grip, he shoved me roughly towards the open front door. He propelled me along a passage and into a big living-room.

The room had a picture window that looked on to the distant lights of Sharnville. There were comfortable lounging chairs, a big settee before an empty fireplace. To the right was a well-stocked bar. There was a TV set and a stereo radio. Three good-looking rugs covered the floor, but the room gave off the atmosphere of being rented, and not lived in.

'Want a drink, fink?' Benny asked as I came to rest in the middle of the room. 'The boss is busy right now. Have a Scotch, huh?'

I went to one of the armchairs and dropped into it.

'Nothing,' I said.

He shrugged and went out, closing the door.

I sat there, my heart thumping, my hands clammy. After a while I heard Joe playing his harmonica: the same sad tune.

I sat there for some ten minutes, then the door opened abruptly and Klaus came in. He shut the door, paused to regard me, then came over and sat in a chair opposite mine.

His teak-wood face was expressionless.

'I apologize for keeping you waiting, Mr. Lucas. I have many affairs' to attend to.' Then as I said nothing, he went on, 'What do you think of the photographs?' He lifted his eyebrows inquiringly. 'I thought they were exceptionally good. They, alone, would convince any judge that you had murdered Marsh, don't you think?'

I looked at him, hating him.

"What do you want?'

'We will come to that in a moment.' He leaned back, resting his small brown hands in his lap. 'Let me first spell out your position, Mr. Lucas. You were foolish enough to write to Glenda. I have that letter, arranging a meeting with her, I have the trenching tool with your fingerprints on it. I have the stained trunk mat. I have only to hand the photographs with your letter, the trenching tool and the trunk mat to Sheriff Thomson for you to go away for life.'

‘Does Glenda know about this?' I had to know.

'Of course. She does exactly what I tell her to do as you are going to do exactly what I tell you to do. She will be the principal witness at your trial if you are stupid enough not to cooperate with me. She will swear she saw you kill her husband. Make no mistake about this, Mr. Lucas, unless you do exactly what I want you to do.'

'And what do you want me to do?' I sat forward, registering what he had said: She does exactly what I tell her to do.

This must mean that Glenda whom I loved was also a victim of Klaus's blackmail. This knowledge gave me a feeling of relief. She had been forced to betray me!

'First, let me tell you a story,' Klaus said. 'Some forty years ago, your patron, Farrell Brannigan and I were small-time tellers in a small-time bank in the Midwest. We were close friends. We shared the same tiny apartment, and we were both ambitious. Brannigan is a self-righteous man. While he worked nights on banking law and so on, I was out on the town. I got involved with a woman.' He paused to stare thoughtfully at me. 'It is necessary for me to tell you this so that you can understand why you are here, and why I am going to tell you what I want you to do.'

I said nothing.

'This woman was expensive,' Klaus went on. 'I was young. To hold her, I had to spend money on her, and I had very little money as a small-time teller. I found what I thought to be a safe way of taking money from the bank. Because of this woman, I embezzled some six thousand dollars. I felt safe to do this as the bank audit wasn't due for six months. I spent five thousand dollars amusing this woman, then a month before the audit, I backed a certain winner, running in the Kentucky Derby, using my last thousand dollars. I won ten thousand dollars. There would be no problem about repaying the six thousand I had stolen, but I had reckoned without Brannigan. Without my knowledge, Brannigan conducted a bank audit on his own. I had no idea why he stayed night after night at the bank, and I didn't care. I thought he was preparing for his next bank examination. He did the audit because he wanted to add to his experience. Brannigan always sought experience. It didn't take him long to find that I had stolen six thousand dollars. Although it is now some forty years ago, I can still see him, very self-righteous, accusing me of embezzlement. We were close friends. I trusted him. I admitted I had stolen the money, but I would repay it. When he learned I had backed a horse - something that was utterly repellent to him - he said I was not only a thief, but a gambler, and I had no right to work in any bank. He gave me no chance to repay the money.' For a brief moment, Klaus's slate-grey eyes lit up in a glare of unnerving fury. Then the light in his eyes vanished. But that one brief glimpse warned me how dangerous he was. 'He was then, and still is, a self-righteous man. He went to the bank directors and betrayed me. I was jailed for five years.'

I was now listening intently. It began to dawn on me, having seen that maniacal glare, that I could be dealing with a psychopath.

‘When you serve a five-year sentence in a tough jail, Mr. Lucas, you acquire a new slant on life,' he continued, his voice now quiet and controlled. 'I was finished as a bank official. I had to make a new career for myself. I mixed with all kinds of men when in jail. At the age of thirty, I was very ambitious, so when I came out, I attempted a fraud that would have made me a lot of money, but because of my associates, the fraud turned sour, and I went back to jail for fifteen years. Life in jail, Mr. Lucas, makes a man bitter. During those years while I was kept like a caged animal, I thought about Farrell Brannigan. Had he not been such a self-righteous man, I could have put the money back, and I could have been some kind of a banker: not in the same class as Brannigan, because he never stopped working and learning to become the top banker which he now is. I didn't have his drive nor talent, but I could have made a reason-able living as a branch manager had he given me the chance. When I came out of jail, Brannigan had become President of the Californian National Bank. I had had fifteen years in which to think about my future. I had made several useful contacts with other prisoners. I had gained useful experience. Through my contacts and my experience, I have made a lot of money. I am now about to retire. I plan to live in luxury somewhere in the sun.' He paused, then went on, 'But before I do so, I have a score to settle with Brannigan. I have waited many years for this opportunity, and this will be my last operation before I retire.'

I continued to listen intently, studying this man, watching his movements, listening to the snarl in his voice.

'Well now, Mr. Lucas, this is where you come in,' Klaus continued. 'Through the press and other media, Brannigan now boasts he owns the safest bank in the world. That is the boast of a self-righteous man, and a challenge I intend to take up. I intend to break into his safest bank in the world, and strip out his vault which has cash and jewellery his clients have entrusted to him: hidden cash to avoid tax and uninsured jewellery. Although Brannigan is a self-righteous man, he is also vain. The one thing that can hit him, as nothing else can, is to be made a world laughing-stock. By cleaning out his safest bank in the world, he will be reduced to midget size." Again the slate-grey eyes blazed. Klaus leaned forward and stared at me, his mouth twitching. He pointed a small brown finger at me. You made the bank safe, Mr. Lucas, and now, you are going to make it unsafe!'

So there it was: an impossible task, but, at least, I now knew his blackmail conditions.

My voice husky, I said, 'I made it safe, and it remains safe. There is nothing I can do to make it unsafe. I assure you of that. The electronic devices, protecting the vault, are foolproof. It is no idle boast that this bank is the safest bank in the world. If you have to get even with Brannigan, you will have to dream up some other sick idea.'

Klaus looked down at his small hands.

'Fifteen years is a long time for a young, ambitious man like you, Mr. Lucas, to rot in jail. I know from experience. I assure you that unless you come up with a foolproof plan to break into that vault, I will send all the evidence I have against you to Sheriff Thomson, and you will not only be ruined in Sharnville, but you will most certainly get a life sentence.' He stood up. You have seven days, Mr. Lucas. At nine o'clock next Friday night, you will receive a telephone call. You will either say yes or no. If it is yes, then we will meet again. If it is no, the Sheriff will call on you.' He left the room, and Benny came in.

'Move with the feet, fink,' he said. 'Joe'll cart you home.'

During the drive back, it was impossible to think. The car rocked with strident beat music, going full blast from a cassette. As Joe drove, he kept shouting, ‘Yes, man! Yes, man! Dig-dig-dig!'

He pulled up outside my apartment and switched off the cassette. It was at that moment of silence that the full impact of my talk with Klaus hit me.

As I got out of the car, Joe leaned forward and caught hold of my arm.

'Use your head, Mr. Lucas,' he said earnestly. ‘You go along with the boss, and you'll be in the rich gravy, don't dig your own grave.'

I pulled free, and walked across the sidewalk, into my apartment block and rode up in the elevator.

As I was unlocking my front door, the door of the opposite apartment jerked open.

'Quick!' Glenda said breathlessly, and pushing by me, she ran into my living-room.

I moved inside, closed the door, then turned and faced her.

In black stretch-pants and a red T-shirt, she stood in the middle of the room. Her full breasts rose and fell with her laboured breathing. Her face was chalk white and her eyes were wild.

As we stared at each other, I heard, through the open window, a car start up and drive away.

 

 

chapter four

 

W
e sat side by side on the settee, my arm around her, her head against my shoulder. The yielding softness of her body against mine told me, as nothing else could do, how much I loved her. Her hands gripped mine. Her red hair was against my fading bruise.

The roar of the traffic, coming through the open window, the sound of Jebson's TV coming up from below, the whine of the elevator as it moved between floors made a background of noise I scarcely registered.

Her hands tightened their grip.

‘I feel so terrible!' she said. 'How was I to know I would find someone like you! Oh, Larry, I am so sorry!' She raised her face and her arm went around my neck. With her lips hard against mine, her tongue darting, Klaus faded from my mind. My fingers found the top of her stretch-pants, hooked in and pulled down. I peeled them off her as she gave a sighing moan.

We rolled off the settee on to the floor. My hands slid under her.

Arching her body, she received me, and my world exploded as she clutched and strained.

After what seemed a long period of time, I became aware of the sound of the church clock chiming ten: Heavy, sonorous strokes.

Then she caressed my face and rolled away from me, got up, leaving me lying there, satiated, aware now only of the smell of dust from the carpet, but utterly relaxed.

I heard water running in the bathroom. Forcing myself to my feet, I pulled on my slacks as she came out from the bathroom and walked slowly to the settee.

'A drink, Larry,' she said. 'A big one.'

I made two outsized whiskeys, and not bothering with ice, I came over and sat beside her. She drank the neat whisky in two gulps, then let the glass drop on the carpet.

'Larry, darling!' She turned to stare at me, her big eyes glittering. 'I love you! Please believe that!' She held up her hand. 'Don't say anything yet . . . just listen to me. I swear to you if I had had any idea what that devil was planning, I wouldn't have done what I did! I swear it to you! Please listen! Let me explain.'

I put my hand on hers.

‘You are in the same trap as I am. That's right, isn't it?'

'Oh, yes, but it is a different kind of trap.' She leaned back and closed her eyes. 'Larry, I am nothing. I have never ever been anything but nothing. I won't tell you about my background. God! It was sleazy. That's the only word. I ran away from my parents. For ten years, I had dozens of jobs, and they all finished up in some sordid bedroom with me fighting off the man who was employing me. A year ago, I got a job at a motel. What a job! There I met Alex. He had money. He ran a Caddy. When he offered marriage, I jumped at it . . . anything to get away from fumbling hands and slinging hash. In his crazy, vicious way he was madly in love with me. To me, he was a meal ticket, and nothing more. He had a big business, handling hot cars. I didn't care. I had kicked around long enough not to bother about which side of the law I was on. All I wanted was a shelter. Alex was crazy about golf. He taught me. We played every day. We had a nice bungalow. When he was working, I just slopped around. We had a coloured woman to clean. Then one day, he came back early, looking as if he had been run over by a truck. He was in a terrible state. His face was swollen, his eyes black, caked blood on his coat. He had been worked over. All his guts, and he had lots of guts, had drained out of him. He told me he and I had to work for Klaus. I didn't know what he was talking about, but the sight of him scared me. He said Klaus had visited him in his garage, and had said he wanted Alex and me to do a job for him. Alex told him to go to hell. Then three men walked in and nearly killed Alex. They beat him silly. They took Alex's guts from him like a surgeon takes out an appendix. He was now a fat, slobbering creature who horrified me. I said no one was going to tell me what to do, and I was leaving him. Then Benny and Joe walked in. While Alex sat crying, they gagged me and took the guts out of me with a strap. By the time they had finished, I was as craven as Alex.' She paused to pick up her fallen glass. 'I'll have another drink, Larry.'

BOOK: 1977 - My Laugh Comes Last
10.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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