‘You know Cap Bradley’s house? It’s the second turning past there.’ He stifled a yawn. ‘If there’s nothing else, I’ll turn in. I have to work for a living.’
I said there was nothing else.
When he had gone, I turned on the radio and listened to the tail end of a recorded Beethoven’s fourth piano concerto.
Around twelve forty-five, I left the hideout, got Benn’s car out and drove to Lennox Drive.
Captain Bradley’s house was in darkness as I drove past. I was tempted to drop in and tell him the situation to-date, but I hadn’t the time and from the look of the house he was in bed.
I left the Lincoln at the corner of Lennox Drive and walked to Lydia’s apartment house. Her apartment was on the ground floor at the back. I dug my thumb into the bell push, wondering if she had got back yet. The sound of someone moving to open the door told me she had. The door opened.
I got the shock of my life.
Juan Ortez stood in the doorway, a .45 Colt in his right hand and a cold, vicious gleam in his eyes.
‘Keep your hands still,’ he said, ‘and walk in. Make a wrong move and you’ll get it.’
He stood aside.
I walked into a large room with gay curtains, lounging chairs, a table on which stood a bowl of roses, and in one corner was a walnut radiogram playing muted swing music.
Lydia sat on the settee. She didn’t look at me. Her face was as white as a fresh fall of snow except for three red marks on her right cheek where someone, presumably Juan, had slapped her.
‘Back up against the wall,’ Juan said.
He didn’t appear to recognize me, but for all that I was shaken. I backed up against the wall and tried to look more scared than I was.
‘You’ve got me all wrong.’ I began feverishly.
‘Shut up!’ he snarled.
He moved backwards so he could watch the two of us.
‘Will you listen!’ Lydia burst out. ‘This fella pushed his way into my dressing room tonight. I’ve never seen him before. Sam threw him out. He must have followed me back here.’
‘You gave him your address,’ Juan said softly. ‘Sam heard you.’
‘Sam’s a liar and you know it!’ Lydia said hysterically. ‘He’s always trying to get me into trouble. I didn’t give him my address!’
Juan looked at me.
‘What do you want here?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, trying to look scared and sheepish. ‘Not now anyway. How was I to know she wasn’t alone? I thought we might get friendly if I had the chance to talk to her.’
‘Yeah? So you’re just a masher, is that it?’
‘I just wanted to be friendly,’ I said sullenly.
He looked at Lydia and then at me. He didn’t seem so sure of himself.
‘You make me sick, Juan,’ Lydia said, getting to her feet. ‘Throw this punk out and get out yourself. I want to go to bed.’ She crossed to the table, poured a double whisky into a glass and picked it up.
‘Shut up!’ Juan snarled. ‘I think you two are lying. I’m going to find out who this guy is.’
She shrugged and moved away from the table. She kept moving so she passed close to him. I had an idea what was in her mind and I moved a couple of steps towards the door.
‘Hold it!’ Juan exclaimed and swung up the gun to cover me.
Lydia threw the whisky in his face and caught his wrist in both her hands, dragging down the gun and wedging her finger in the trigger guard so he couldn’t fire. I crossed the room in two jumps and slammed a right to his jaw. His head snapped back, and as he fell, I hit him again.
Lydia straightened, holding the gun. Her eyes burned feverishly as she looked down at Juan. I reached forward and took the gun out of her limp fingers. She gave a little shudder, walked unsteadily over to an armchair and sat down.
‘I shouldn’t have done that,’ she said in a small, thin voice. ‘I shouldn’t have done it!’
‘This guy isn’t going to remain quiet for long,’ I said. ‘You’ve got things to tell me. I can take you somewhere where they won’t bother you. Do you want to come?’
‘There’s nothing else I can do now,’ she said, ‘not after this.’
‘Go and pack. I’ll take care of him.’
She got up and went slowly into the inner room.
I opened Juan’s coat, pulled it down over his elbows and fastened his wrists together with the belt I found around his waist. He opened his eyes as I rolled him over on to his back and he began to mumble. I took the Colt and gave him a sharp rap on the top of his skull. His eyes snapped shut and he went limp again. I tied his ankles together with a curtain cord and gagged him with his handkerchief.
Satisfied he wouldn’t make a nuisance of himself for a while, I went into the inner room to see how Lydia was making out. She was tossing garments into two suitcases; her movements showed her growing panic.
‘Take it easy,’ I said. ‘Nothing’s going to happen.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘I was a fool to have listened to you.’
‘Relax. I’ll take care of you. Here, let me help you.’
‘No! I can manage.’ She shut the lid of one of the cases and began feverishly to complete the packing of the other. ‘I’ve got to get out of town. He’s been waiting for something like this to happen.’
‘Who’s been waiting? Royce?’
‘Yes.’ She shut the second case. ‘Where are you taking me?’
‘I’ve got a car outside. If you think you’ll be safer out of town, I’ll take you. Have you anywhere you can go?’
‘I’ve friends in Frisco. I should have gone to them before. Can you take me there tonight?’
‘Sure,’ I said, thinking I could talk to her on the way. I moved to the door. ‘While you change, I’ll watch Juan. Don’t be long.’
I went out and shut the door.
Juan was still unconscious. I sat down where I could see him and waited.
After twenty minutes or so, Lydia came out of her room. She was wearing a dark grey suit and she had a fur coat over her arm. Her face was fine drawn and white. She glanced quickly at Juan and then her eyes shifted.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said.
I went into her room and collected her two suitcases. As I reentered the sitting room, Juan gave a muffled groan and moved uneasily.
‘He’ll be all right,’ I said. ‘Come on.’
I went to the door, set down the cases, opened the door and stepped into the passage. At the far end I could see the front door. A man’s shadow lay across the glass panel: a short bulky man with shoulders that looked as wide as a house.
I stepped back quickly into the sitting room, motioning Lydia to stay where she was. My warning gesture made her catch her breath sharply.
I peered cautiously into the passage. The front door was opening. I quickly shut Lydia’s apartment door.
‘What is it?’ she whispered.
‘There’s a guy out there.’
Softly I turned the key in the lock and waited, listening.
I heard soft footfalls coming down the passage. They stopped outside the door. Then I saw the door handle turn. Lydia backed away, her face ashen, her hand to her mouth. In the silence of the room, knuckles rapping on the door panel made a loud, startling sound.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
