I moved restlessly.
Both of them had certainly played it smart, landing me with a murder and no money. They were probably laughing their heads off that they had found such a sucker.
Well, she had got the money and she had got her boyfriend, but she and Ross still had me, although right now they wouldn’t know that.
Picking up the street guide I located Orchard Avenue. There was just a chance she was there with him. After all, I reasoned, she couldn’t have got the money just yet although Bernstein would arrange credit for her, but there was still a chance she was there.
If I found her what was I going to do?
I thought about this. It presented a problem. It would be useless to corner her and demand my share of the money. She would only laugh at me. Suppose I threatened to tell Bernstein the whole story? That wouldn’t get me anywhere except a long term in jail, even if she got one too, but with her money and Bernstein working for her the chances of her drawing a murder rap were remote. It would be my word against hers and I would have to admit it had been my plan and I had actually murdered Marshall. She could swear she hadn’t known a thing about it, and there was no proof that she had.
After more thinking, I was sure that trying to bluff her would only land me in trouble. I would have to find some way to get the money out of her, and that I was determined to do.
Then I remembered what Mario had said: A deputy at Wicksteed. She was crazy about him and I guess, still is. To see her with him was something. She couldn’t keep her eyes nor her hands off him. He had a hook in her and, believe me, it’s a hook that will stay in.
If this were true, and I had to make sure it was true, then Ross could give me the chance of getting the money from her.
It came down to this: was Ross’s life worth five hundred thousand dollars to her? If it wasn’t then I would have to think again, but if it was, the money was as good as mine.
I remained in the motel cabin until dusk, then I went over to the cafe and had a hot dog and a coffee. There were very few people in the cafe and none of them paid any attention to me.
Orchard Avenue was tucked away off one of the climbing hills southwest of the city. I found it with some difficulty, having to stop and ask a couple of times. As soon as I saw the street sign, I found parking and leaving the VW, I walked down the long street with wooden bungalow style houses either side. Each house had a name, but I didn’t find Apple Trees. The street was some two hundred yards long so I crossed and started down the other side.
Halfway down I saw a fat woman leaning on a gate, smoking a cigarette and taking the night air. As I walked by her, she said, ‘You looking for someone, mister? I see you looking.’
The street lighting wasn’t much but I could just make out a fat, friendly looking face. She was wearing a shapeless dress and she looked lonely. I had my back to the light so she couldn’t make much of me.
‘Good evening,’ I said. ‘Yes, I was looking for a house.’
She nodded.
‘I guessed you were. These house names are darned stupid. Why not numbers? Maybe I can help you.’
My mind worked swiftly. Was this dangerous? She could be a friend of Beth’s, but looking at her, I doubted it.
‘Apple Trees,’ I said. ‘I hear it is up for rent I’m looking for a place for my wife and kids.’
She sucked smoke down, coughed, then thumped her floppy bosom.
‘I shouldn’t smoke, but I can’t give it up — no will power.’ She dropped her cigarette butt on the grass and put her foot on it. ‘Apple Trees?’ She gave a snort. ‘You’d never find it unless you were told. Top of the road, down a narrow lane between two houses and it’s right at the back, but don’t waste your time, mister. It’s not for rent. She moved back a couple of days ago.’
The way she emphasized ‘she’ alerted me. Disapproval oozed from her.
‘These estate agents!’ I made a gesture of disgust. ‘They told me the place was for rent.’
‘She’s never rented it.’ The fat woman shook her head. ‘It’s stood empty for three years. Then suddenly she arrives with her fancy man... a couple of days ago.’
My heart skipped a beat.
Keeping my voice steady, I said, ‘Maybe she’s getting it ready to rent.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’ She lit another cigarette. ‘This is a respectable street, mister. None of us living here need a couple like them shacking up together. It’s disgraceful!’
‘At the end of the road? While I’m here, I may as well ask her. She could be thinking of renting.’
‘You got kids, mister?’
‘A boy and a girl,’ I lied.
‘Then you go along and talk to her. We could do with a few kids on this street. We’re all old people... good for nothing. I’d rather have kids here than her and her fancy man.’
‘I can but ask. Thanks for your help.’
‘I wish you luck. What did you say your name was?’
‘Lucas... Harry Lucas.’
‘I’m Emma Brody. If you get fixed up tell your wife to drop in and see me.’ Nodding, she plodded back to her house.
I waited until she had shut the front door, then turning, I walked back to the end of the road. I found a narrow dirt road between two bungalows as she had said. The road was just wide enough between the hedges of the two bungalows to take a car. For a long moment I hesitated. If I walked up there and Beth or Ross or both of them came driving down, I would be trapped, but I didn’t hesitate for long. I went up the road fast, half running. There was no street lighting but the road was moonlit. It curved suddenly and I saw the bungalow set in a small garden and there was a lighted sign on the gate: Apple Trees.
Light showed behind red curtains and a TV set was blasting. There was a carport. I could see a car which looked like a convertible two-seater parked there.
I stood at the gate looking at the bungalow. It was L-shaped. Probably it had three bedrooms and a big living room. As I stood there I saw a shadow cross the curtains. I would know that thin outline anywhere... Beth!
I lifted the gate latch and pushing the gate open I walked across the grass to the bungalow. The windows were open and some pop singer was yelling his head off.
I moved close to the window and waited.
The yelling went on for some ten minutes, then suddenly the set was snapped off.
‘If I hear any more of this crap I’ll go out of my mind!’
The sound of Ross’s snarling voice made me stiffen.
‘Try another station, darling,’ Beth said. She had never called me that. ‘The fights will be on in half an hour.’
‘Who the hell cares about those bums?’ Ross demanded. ‘Hell! I’m getting sick of living in this crummy hole. All these old fossils staring at us and gossiping. I want out!’
‘But we must wait, darling. I’ve told you that. The money won’t come to me for another two weeks.’
‘Two weeks! I’m not staying here for two weeks! You’ll be getting the money for the house, won’t you? Let’s take an apartment... something with class.’
‘Don’t you really like it here, honey? I was born here. I look on it as my real and only home.’ There was a pleading note in her voice.
‘Oh God! Don’t start that again!’ He sounded savage. ‘We’re at last in the money! We’re not going to live in a two bit bungalow. You talk to that crumb Bernstein. Tell him you want action!’