Calvin watched him. He saw the agony of fear on the fat face.
He knows I’m going to kill him, he thought. He’s certain to be carrying a gun. I’ll have to give it to him as soon as he stops the car. I can’t risk letting him get out.
‘Here we are,’ he said as the side road came into sight. He lifted the gun and poked Easton with it.
Easton spun the wheel and shot the car along the narrow dusty road. Again Calvin looked back, but there was no one to see them turn off the highway.
That’s luck, he thought, if they do come after me, they’ll think I’ve gone to Merlin Bay. Once I get rid of this punk, I’ll head for that air-taxi field at Bellmore. Once I get to ’Frisco, I’ll lose myself.
Easton saw the forest ahead of him.
I’ve got to take a chance, he thought. He won’t shoot until I’ve stopped the car. My only chance is to wreck the car. I’ll be braced by the wheel. With any luck he’ll crack his head on the windshield.
‘Take it easy,’ Calvin said. ‘We’ll stop at the top of the hill.’
With, his heart hammering, Easton peered into the driving mirror.
‘We’ve got company,’ he said hoarsely.
Calvin jerked around to look through the rear window. Easton, panting, swung the wheel and drove off the road straight towards a fir tree. They were travelling at over fifty miles an hour. Instinctively, Easton braked a split second before the car hit.
Feeling the car swerve, Calvin turned his head. His finger tightened automatically on the trigger of the gun as he glimpsed the car about to crash. The gun went off as the car smashed into the tree.
Calvin felt a jolting shock. He was faintly aware of a rendering sound of crushing steel, then he blacked out.
2
Travers said, ‘Well, that’s it, Sheriff. That’s why I resigned. I couldn’t send Iris’s mother to the gas chamber and that’s what it would have meant. But now she’s dead… it’s different. I can go after Calvin.’
The sheriff drove in silence for some moments. His mind, still slightly stunned by what Travers had told him, slowly considered what to do. Finally, he said, ‘Yeah… well, this is between you and me, Ken, but if it got out, you could be in trouble. I’d do my best for you, but you’ve stuck your neck out for an accessory rap.’
‘Don’t I know it,’ Travers said. ‘I’ll have to take a chance on it. Hey! Stop! This guy may have seen them.’
There was a patrol officer on a motorcycle coming towards them. As the sheriff pulled up and waved, the officer swung his machine alongside the car.
‘We’re looking for a white Mercury,’ Travers said. ‘Mr. Easton was driving. Has it passed you?’
‘Yeah,’ the officer said. ‘Passed me about ten minutes ago on the Merlin Bay road.’
‘Merlin Bay?’
‘That’s it.’
‘Thanks.’
As the sheriff engaged gear, Travers said, ‘There’s a road block three miles ahead. He’s probably using Easton to get him through. That means he’s trying to get out with the payroll.’
The sheriff grunted and shoved the gas pedal to the boards.
Four minutes later, they pulled up at the road block. The two officers said the Mercury had gone through ten minutes ago.
‘Went through like a bat out of hell,’ one of them said, scowling. ‘Mr. Easton looked like he was ill. As soon as the pole was up, he charged through without saying a word to us. What gives?’
‘Could be trouble,’ the sheriff said. ‘Let us through, Jack. We’re in a hurry.’
Shrugging, the patrol officer signalled to his buddy to pull up the pole.
Travers said, ‘Let me drive, will you, Sheriff? I know this car better than you do.’
‘What you’re trying to say,’ the sheriff said, his voice frosty, ‘is you think you can drive faster than I can. Well, son, I don’t agree.’
With that, he trod on the gas pedal and sent the car roaring down the highway until it built up a speed of a shuddering eighty miles an hour.
‘Take it easy!’ Travers bawled above the roar of the engine, ‘you’ll break the poor old girl’s back!’
The sheriff grinned stiffly and kept up the speed. They had gone some miles when Travers suddenly shouted, ‘Slow up! Look at that!’
The sheriff braked.
‘Look at what?’ he asked, staring ahead.
‘To your right. Look at that dust settling. A car’s been up there recently. It’s the short cut to the Bellmore airfield,’ Travers said. ‘It’s my bet they’ve turned off there.’
The sheriff pulled up and leaned out of the window. He surveyed the faint cloud of dust that was slowly settling on the dirt road and he nodded.
‘Could be you’re right. Shall we try it?’
‘Yeah, but take it slow.’
Five minutes later they reached the forest: a minute later they saw the wreck of the Mercury. The sheriff pulled up.
‘Don’t rush it,’ Travers said sharply. ‘Look, you stay here. I’ll check. This guy’s dangerous.’
‘What do you mean… I stay here! I’m the sheriff, aren’t I? Give me my gun!’
‘I’m handling this. I want the reward,’ Travers said and forced a grin. He pulled out the sheriff’s gun from his trousers’ band and got out. ‘Anything happen to me, you get the boys up here.’
He walked slowly towards the wrecked car. As he got closer he could see the lid of the boot was open. Then he saw a huddled figure sprawled over the steering wheel. He moved closer, his gun raised. He looked to right and then to left, then signalled to the sheriff.
The sheriff, muttering to himself, got out of the car and joined him.
‘Easton… dead,’ Travers said.
Not fifty yards from them, Calvin lay hidden in a thicket. By his side was the suitcase containing the payroll. He was bleeding from a long gash down his face. His right leg was broken. His left arm was dislocated. He was only semi-conscious. How he had got himself out of the wreck, got around to the boot, forced it open, taken the suitcase containing the payroll and then dragged himself into the thicket he would never know.
He watched the two men carry Easton’s lifeless body from the car and lay it on the ground. He watched Travers kneel beside the body while the sheriff stood by him, tugging at his moustache.
He looked from the two men to the sheriff’s car that stood some twenty yards from the thicket in which he was hiding. Could he drive it if he could grab it? he asked himself. It was his only hope of escape. It should be possible even with his broken leg. He had only to use the gas pedal. He could steer with one hand. But where to go? The airfield was out. He couldn’t arrive there in his condition. Maybe he could find some place… a farm… somewhere to hole up until the leg healed. With all his money, he should be able to buy his freedom.
It would mean shooting both the sheriff and Travers, but that didn’t worry him. There was no other way out if he was to get away.
Travers, squatting on his heels besides Easton’s body, suddenly stiffened. His keen eyes had seen that to the right of him the coarse grass was flattened. From the angle he was looking, he could see a path had been made through the grass as if something heavy had been dragged across it. He could see the path led directly to a thicket of shrubs.
Without looking at the sheriff, he said, ‘Calvin’s right with us. I think he’s hiding in that thicket to your left. Don’t look. He may be armed.’
‘Easton got a gun?’ the sheriff asked.
‘He should have.’
Travers moved his body slightly so it screened Easton from the thicket. He opened Easton’s coat, found the .45 still in its holster and pulled it out. The sheriff squatted beside him. Travers slid the gun to him. Both men felt naked squatting here with their backs to the thicket.