‘They won’t find out. Will you listen to me, Lucille? We mustn’t panic. We must first find out
what the papers say. We mustn’t do anything until we know all the facts. We’ll know the facts tomorrow morning, then if you’ll meet me, we can make up our minds what to do.’
She pressed her fingers to her temples.
‘Don’t you think I should tell Roger? He might be able to do something.’
If I had thought Aitken could have done something, I wouldn’t have hesitated to go with her and tell him the whole sordid story, but I was certain he couldn’t do a thing for her. If she went to him the truth would come out that she and I had been on the beach together. He would want to know why she had run off like that. Knowing Aitken, I felt sure he would have got the truth out of her, and then I would be sunk.
I drew in a long, slow breath.
‘You can’t tell him, Lucille. If you tell him, how will you explain what you were doing in my car? How will you explain what you were doing on the beach? How will you explain that you and I were on the beach together, that we undressed and swam together? If I thought your husband could do something, then I would go with you and tell him, but he can’t. If you lose your head and tell him, you will give him grounds for a divorce, and I’ll lose my job.’
She stared fixedly at me, then she said in a voice tight with panic: ‘I’d rather be divorced than go to prison. Roger wouldn’t let me go to prison. He has a lot of influence. I’m sure he wouldn’t let me go to prison.’
I put my hands on her arms and shook her gently.
‘Lucille! You’re reasoning like a child. Once he knew you and I had been on the beach together, he would wash his hands of you. He wouldn’t give a damn what happened to you. You must realize that.’
‘That’s not true,’ she said desperately. ‘He might divorce me, but he wouldn’t let me go to prison. He’s like that. He wouldn’t allow it to be said his wife was in prison.’
‘You still don’t seem to realize how serious this is,’ I said, trying to speak quietly and calmly. ‘You have killed a policeman. All right, it was an accident, but you didn’t stop and you haven’t a driving permit. If you had killed anyone except a policeman, your husband might have been able to swing it, but even if he had more influence than Eisenhower, and he hasn’t, he can’t do a thing for you now.’
‘So you mean I’ll have to go to prison?’
Her face seemed to shrink and her eyes became rounder and larger. Terror spoilt her young, fresh beauty.
‘No. They don’t know you did it, and I don’t think they will ever know. We would be fools to tell them until we know exactly what has happened. When we do know, then we’ll be able to make up our minds just what we should do.’
She gnawed her underlip, looking at me.
‘You mean we just don’t do anything?’
‘We don’t do anything tonight. Have you understood about tomorrow? Will you come down here about ten? We can decide what to do then.’
She nodded.
‘Well, come on, then. I’ll take you home.’
She got up and walked ahead of me out of the lounge, across the hall and to the front door, then she stopped abruptly.
‘We’re not going back in the car, Ches? I don’t think I could drive in it again.’
‘I’ve another car. I borrowed it from a friend down the road.’ I put my hand on her arm and eased her out on to the porch. ‘We’re not going back in the Cadillac.’
I turned off the light in the hall, closed the front door while she stood on the top of the porch. As I was turning the key in the lock, I heard a man’s voice call out: ‘Hey, is this your car?’
I felt as if I had put my hand out in the dark and had touched a naked electric cable. I don’t suppose I started as much as I imagined, but I know I started pretty badly. I heard Lucille catch her breath sharply, but at least she had the sense to move quickly to one side into the shadows of the porch where she couldn’t be seen.
I looked down the path. A man stood at the gate. It was too dark to see much of him, except that he was tall and bulky. Parked behind Seaborne’s Pontiac was a Buick convertible, its bonnet lit by the Pontiac’s tail lights.
‘Stay where you are,’ I whispered to Lucille, then I walked down the steps and down the path to where the tall man was standing.
‘Sorry to give you such a start,’ he said, and now I was close to him I could see he was around
forty-five with a heavy moustache and a whisky-red, cheerful face. ‘I thought you had seen me. Isn’t that Jack Seaborne’s car?’
‘Yes,’ I said, aware my breathing was too quick and too uneven. ‘I’ve borrowed it while mine’s in dock.’
‘You Chester Scott?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Glad to know you.’ He thrust out his hand. ‘I’m Tom Hackett. I don’t know if Jack ever mentioned me. He’s mentioned you to me often enough. I was passing and I wondered if the old sonofagun happened to be down here.’
I wondered if he had seen Lucille. We had come out of the lighted hall. It depended how long he had been standing at the gate.
I shook hands with him. My hand felt cold in his.
‘No, Jack won’t be down until August. He never comes down before then,’ I said.
‘I took a chance. I was on my way to Palm Bay. I’m staying at the Paradiso Hotel for a couple of weeks. The wife comes down by train tomorrow. She can’t travel for long in a car: gets car sick.’ He laughed easily. ‘Not that that’s any skin off my nose. It gives me a little time to myself. I thought if Jack was here we might have a drink and a yarn together.’
‘He won’t be down until August.’
‘Yeah, so you said.’ He looked at me. ‘If you’ve got nothing better to do, why don’t we go some place and have a drink? The night’s still young.’
‘I’d like to, but I have a date.’
He looked past me towards the dark bungalow and he grinned.
‘Well, if it’s like that. I just had an idea we could make up a little party. Two’s company, eh?’ He moved back to look at the Pontiac. ‘Good old bus. Going well?’
‘Fine.’
‘When you’ve nothing better to do, come over and see us,’ he went on. ‘The Paradiso. Pretty good joint: plenty of fun. Bring the girl-friend if she isn’t too shy. Well, I mustn’t keep you. So long for now.’
Waving his hand, he went back to the Buick, slid under the steering wheel, gunned the engine and drove away.
I stood motionless, watching his red tail lights disappearing down the road, mf hands gripping the top rail of the gate, my heart slamming against my ribs.
‘He saw me,’ Lucille said, and her voice was unsteady. She came down the path and joined me at the gate.
‘He saw I had a girl with me,’ I said as calmly as I could, ‘but he couldn’t have seen enough of you to know you again. There’s nothing to worry about.’
I took her arm and led her to the Pontiac. We got in.
‘Are you quite sure I shouldn’t tell Roger?’ she asked in a small tight voice.
This was more than my jumping nerves could stand. I swung around, reached out, put my hands on her shoulders and gave her a hard little shake.
‘Once and for all! I said no and I mean no! He can’t do anything for you!’ I was shouting at her now. ‘If you tell him, you’ll make him an accessory! Don’t you realize that? If he doesn’t hand you over to the police, he could get a sentence. You’ve got to leave this to me! I’ll tell you what we will do tomorrow.’
She shrank away from me, and taking out her handkerchief she began to cry.
I drove fast towards Palm Boulevard.