The Grass Widow's Tale

all clear out of here, and leave you to put out to sea as fast as you like.” He leaned a little nearer, with a wolfish smile on his lips, which were thrust out aggressively by the massive teeth within. “But if you don’t act like a sensible lad, and hand over, I will turn you in. Better freedom without the lolly than neither a one of ’em. You think it over!”

“How do I know,” demanded Luke with growing confidence, but still with some reserve, “that you’ll keep your bargain? How do I know you won’t take the money and then call the police on us?”

“Why should I? What have I got to gain? I came for the money, and that’s all I want. And I don’t need to tell you, I’m sure, that I’m not anxious to call attention to myself among the cops unless I have to. I’ve got to be feeling very mean to take that risk. Once I’ve got my money back, what have I got to feel mean about? But make no mistake, you cross me now and I can be mean as all get-out.”

He got up suddenly, airily, light on his feet like so many bulky men, swung his chair back to the table, and strolled away across the room.

“Take your pick, kiddo. It’s up to you.”

In the momentary silence Skinner came down the stairs again, his researches completed. He spread empty hands and raised his shoulders. “Nothing up there. I left Quilley on look-out, but it’s as quiet as the grave, and black as your hat on the land side. What cooks here?”

He looked from Fleet to Blackie, who was frowning in frantic thought, many coils behind in following his boss’s complex proceedings; and from Blackie to Con, who had shut off what mind he had and given up the struggle some minutes ago, and was now no more than a machine for pointing a gun to order. They were all of them confounded that the hard questioning had not begun long ago. There must be a reason.

There must be a reason, and the reason was not any squeamishness or compunction on Fleet’s part. It was just barely possible that he really meant to withdraw once he got his hands on the money, exactly as he had said, and that he found it preferable and less messy to trade on Luke’s conviction of his own guilt rather than to beat the required information out of him. But still Bunty couldn’t believe it. He was more devious than that, he enjoyed being devious. There was something buried deeper, beneath this apparent reasonableness. Did he, for some obscure purpose of his own, want a Luke completely unmarked by violence? And for what?

“Hush!” said Fleet. “Our young friend’s making up his mind. To be sensible, I hope.”

“I haven’t got a lot of choice, have I?” said Luke loudly; and his manner became, in some way Bunty could recognise but not define, a direct response to Fleet’s, a nice balance of nervousness, doubt, and growing assurance. He had not looked at her throughout, and she understood that he dared not, that if he did his eyes would betray him, and the enemy would no longer believe in this guilt-ridden, squirming fugitive.

“It’s an alternative,” said Fleet, smiling at him with the first careless glint of contempt. “You can hand over and go free, or rot in gaol for fourteen years or so thinking about the money you can’t get at. For a million it might be worth it—not for this little lot, not by my measure. You please yourself.”

“It isn’t worth it by my measure, either.” He licked his dry lips and swallowed hard, reluctant but driven. “All right! ” he said in a gulping breath. “You can have the damned money!”

“That’s better,” said Fleet warmly. “I knew you’d see sense. Where is it?”

Bunty had not the least idea what Luke was going to say. She was lost, like Fleet’s henchmen, she could only wait, and be ready to follow whatever lead events and Luke offered her.

“You ought to have known, if you’d given any thought to it,” said Luke, with the feeble spleen of a defeated man scrabbling for what crumbs of dignity he can salvage. “You think we were going without it, or something, when we lit out of here down to the sea? We had the stuff down there already, of course, waiting till it was dark and we could slip away without being seen.”

“Aaaah!” breathed Fleet, and pondered in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowed upon Luke’s face. It was apt, it was reasonable, it would certainly have to be tested. “Go on, tell us more. Why didn’t you take off as soon as you got here?”

“Because it was nearly daylight. Anybody round here would know the boat. Even if they didn’t start investigating us, they might very well take it for granted the Alports were up here, and the local shop might send in, even on a Sunday, to see if they wanted supplies. There’s no telephone here, people come. The Alports are good customers, and well known. We didn’t want anyone poking around here and finding us instead, and that car in the garage. It seemed better to risk lying low to-day, and setting out after dark.”

“But you put the cash aboard in advance! Then why not your luggage, too?” demanded Fleet shrewdly.

“We wanted it. Damn it, we’d been up all night, we needed a bath… I had to shave… We weren’t expecting any trouble. I’ve been here before with the owners, I could account for being here if I had to—for everything except Pippa and the money.” He wiped his forehead feverishly; there was no need to act, sweat stood on him in globules, bitter as gall on his lips. “Pippa—it was too light to risk being seen carrying her down to the boat, and anyhow, there was no way of hiding her there any better than here. No use trying to sink her here, inshore. She had to wait for dark. But the money, just a flat parcel, that was only a minute’s job, so we made sure of it.”

“It occurs to me,” said Fleet thoughtfully, “that with all this talk of ‘ our ’ luggage your lady friend here doesn’t seem to have any belongings, beyond a handbag—I take it that grey one belongs to her? That was going to be a bit awkward, wasn’t it, girl? Are you always so improvident?”

“I’ve got nothing but a handbag,” Bunty said with hard deliberation, “because I walked out with nothing but a handbag. Why, is my business. He doesn’t know the reason, and you’re not interested, either. He told you, he picked me up in a pub. What’s the odds? If you know anything about that kid upstairs, you know that king-size case of hers is full of brand-new stuff. I carry a few extra pounds, but we’re much the same size. I could get by.”

Amazed, she watched the image she was projecting emerge and parade before him, no predictable bar-fly, but a woman on the dangerous verge of middle-age, a woman who had suddenly rebelled, looked over her shoulder and cut her losses. And how far from the truth was that picture? There had been a time, only twenty-four hours ago, when it would have seemed to her as close as a mirror-image. Now it was clear that she and this imaginary creature were at opposite poles, and never could, by any miracle, have touched fingertips. Fleet’s eyes went over her with mild curiosity, and looked away again. To him it was a reasonably convincing portrait she had drawn, or perhaps he didn’t care enough to probe any further.

“So you hid the money ready,” he said, eyeing Luke, “in the boat.”