He heard steps coming down the passage, and from force of habit his hand slid inside his coat, gripping his gun.
Goshawk knocked and Raven let him in. The two men looked at each other.
“So you’re off?” Goshawk said. “Takin’ the little dame with you?”
Raven controlled his face. This guy knew all the answers. He shook his head. “Car outside?”
“Sure!”
“Is she full?”
“Yeah. Take you a couple of hundred miles, if you ain’t stopped before then.” Goshawk sniggered.
Raven sat down on the bed. “Well, I guess I’ll settle up with you,” he said. He took out a small roll from his side pocket that he had specially prepared for Goshawk. “Let’s see, I’ve paid for the car and for a month’s rent. I’ll make you a present of that. Then I guess you’ll want a little consideration for keepin’ your trap shut, won’t you?”
Goshawk rubbed his hands. “They’re offering five grand for information that’ll lead to your arrest.”
Raven stiffened. “Five grand?” he repeated, staring at Goshawk.
“That’s right. A nice slice of change, ain’t it?”
Raven almost laughed. The fool had signed his own death warrant. No matter how much Raven gave him now, he’d squeal as soon as he could get to the cops. Five grand was too much money to pass up.
Raven got off the bed. “If I give you the same, you’ll be happy, won’t you?”
Goshawk’s little eyes glittered. “Sure,” he said. “That’s fair enough.”
Raven took another roll out of his pocket. “You’ll find five grand here, I think. Count it.” He put the roll into Goshawk’s trembling hands and wandered away to the window. He lifted the blind a trifle and glanced over at Marie’s room. He could see her moving about the room hurriedly. He guessed she was packing. Time was getting on. He glanced over at Goshawk, who sat on the bed counting the notes.
Drawing his gun and holding it by the barrel, he approached Goshawk. “You’ve got enough dough there to make you rich,” he said casually, coming closer step by step.
Goshawk nodded, muttering figures as he laid the bills down on the bed. Raven was right behind him, and he swung his arm. Goshawk suddenly cringed and he gave a thin little cry of terror as he saw Raven’s shadow on the soiled sheet, the upraised arm coming down and the gun, looking three times its size, in the big distorted hand.
The gun−butt cracked his skull and he fell across the bed, blood and brains oozing out of a hole that appeared suddenly in his head.
Raven stepped back hastily. He knew he didn’t have to strike again. The blow had jarred his hand and arm badly. He stood looking down at Goshawk, a feeling of relief surging through him. The one man who knew enough to have him burnt was silenced for ever. Now he was free. All he had to do was to walk out, get in the car, pick up the Leroy dame and beat it.
He dragged Goshawk further on to the bed and covered him with a blanket. Anyone looking in the room would think that Raven was there, sleeping. He covered the head with a pillow and then he paused to light a cigarette. He glanced at the clock. It was twenty past nine. All was working satisfactorily. As he turned to the door his eye alighted on the wall calendar.
FRIDAY, 13th SEPTEMBER
made him pause.
“My lucky day,” he said with a forced laugh, and went out, locking the door and removing the key.
He met no one as he went downstairs. He let himself out the back way and at the end of the alley he found the big Chrysler waiting for him. He climbed in and started the engine. He could hardly believe that he was off, that he had a fast car under him, and that in a few hours St. Louis would be a long way behind.
He drove round the block once, and as the hands of a street clock moved to the half−hour, he drew up outside Marie Leroy’s apartment house.
She was standing in the hallway waiting, and as he drew up she picked up two handbags and ran down the steps. He made no effort to get out. From where he sat he could see people peering round curtains all down the street. He wasn’t going to let them give his description to the cops if anyone got suspicious.
“Can you manage?” he called. “The bags can go in the boot behind. It’s quite easy to open. My engine’s cold. I’ve got to nurse her along for a minute.”
“That’s all right,” she said, and he felt two thuds as the bags were dumped in the back. Leaning over, he opened the off−door and she got in. She wore the same red−and−white−spotted dress, and as she sat down the skirt rode up. Her long tapering legs sent a little shiver through him. She pulled her skirt down and laughed nervously. “Some car,” she said.
“Like it?” He engaged the gears. “We’ve got a mighty long way to go. I’ve been sleepin’ all the afternoon an’ I want to get as far as I can tonight.”
She relaxed back against the upholstered seat. “I like driving at night. When you get tired may I drive?”
He looked at her. “Can you?”
“Of course.”
This was something he hadn’t thought of. If they took it in turns to sleep and drive they’d halve the time.
“That’s fine,” he said, and meant it.
He drove steadily, keeping to an even forty miles an hour. He had no wish to get an excited speed cop on his trail. Goshawk had given him forged licence papers, but even with those he wasn’t going to take chances.
As they neared the outskirts of the town Marie said, “Look, there’s a barricade ahead. How exciting! You’ll have to stop.”
Raven eased the gun loose in its shoulder−holster and stopped the car a few feet from the swinging red light.
Three State troopers came up to the car. Two of them carried Thompsons.
Raven felt his mouth go dry, but he kept his head.
Marie leant out of the window. “What is it?” she asked.
They played a powerful light on her and then turned it on Raven, who had quickly removed his hat.
“What’s the trouble, officer?” he asked. “I wasn’t goin’ too fast, was I?”
“Let’s have a look at your papers, buddy,” the State trooper said, resting his foot on the running−board.
Raven noticed that the other two troopers had relaxed and were no longer pointing their guns at him.
He produced his papers. “Here you are,” he said.
Marie seemed to be getting on well with the other two troopers. Raven couldn’t hear what she was saying as she was leaning out of the window, but one of the troopers laughed suddenly and he heard her laugh too.
Hardly glancing at the licence papers, the trooper returned them. “Your wife, I guess?” he asked.
Raven nodded.
“Okay, bud, on your way.”
Raven engaged his gears and the car slid past the barricade. A sudden thought had struck him. He’d got to be damn careful with this girl. What a fool he’d been not to have remembered!
She said excitedly, “They’re looking for Public Enemy No. 1. A man called Raven. He’s supposed to be hiding in the town. Isn’t it exciting?”
“Yeah,” he said, with a little grin, “but I’ve got some news for you that’ll startle you. I was crazy to have brought you, sister.”
Her eyes opened. “Why?”
He continued to drive. “Ever heard of the Mann Act?”
“Why, yes? What’s that got to do with it?”
“Plenty. It’s an offence to take any dame but your wife over a State line. There’s a twenty−years rap hanging to it.”
Marie’s eyes opened. “Butbut they let us through.”
Raven’s mouth twitched. “YeahI told ’em you were my wife. The car, the clothes and the general set−up passed us.”