“Everyone on the force is out. I had to put you on the Teletype myself. All the roads are blocked and they have a cordon around York’s house. Are you giving yourself up?”
“Don’t be silly. I’d be sticking my head in a noose. As far as Dilwick is concerned I have to be knocked off. It’s a screw pitch, pal, and I’m in it deep, but don’t believe all you hear.”
“You killed him, didn’t you?”
“You’re damn right. If I hadn’t it would have been me lying back there with my head in sections all over the ground. They squeezed me good. I was tailing Dilwick, but they got wise and tailed me. Like a damn fool I let Dilwick lead me out in the sticks and they jumped me. What was I supposed to do, take it lying down? They didn’t have orders to pick me up, they were supposed to knock me off.”
“Where are you? I’ll come out and get you.”
“No dice, buddy, I have work to do.”
“You’d better give yourself up, Mike. You’ll be safer in the custody of the law.”
“Like hell. Dilwick will have me held under his jurisdiction and that’s what he wants. He’ll be able to finish the job then.”
“Just the same, Mike . . .”
“Say, whose side are you on?”
He didn’t say a word for a full minute. “I’m a policeman, Mike. I’ll have to take you in.”
He was making it hard for me. “Listen, don’t be a sap, Price, something’s come up that I have to follow.”
“What?”
I glanced at the two faces that were taking in every word. “I can’t tell you now.”
“The police can handle it.”
“In a pig’s eye. Now listen. If you want to see this case solved you’ll have to stay off my back as much as you can. I know something that only the killer knows and I have to use it while it’s hot. If you take me in it’ll be too late for both of us. You know what Dilwick and his outfit are like. So I shot one of them. That’s hardly killing a cop, is it? Then don’t get so upset about me blasting a cheap crook. Do you want to see this case wrapped up or not?”
“Of course.”
“Then keep your boys out of this. I’m not worried about the rest.”
There was another silent period while he thought it over, then he spoke. “Mike, I shouldn’t do this; it’s against all rules and regulations. But I know how things stand and I still want to be a good cop. Sometimes to do that you have to fall in line. I’ll stay off you. I don’t know how long it will be before the pressure gets put on me, but until then I’ll do what I can.”
“Thanks, pal. I won’t run out on you.”
“I know that.”
“Expect to hear from me every once in a while. Just keep the calls under your hat. If I need you I’ll yell for help.”
“I’ll be around, Mike. You’d better steer clear of York’s place. That place is alive with city cops.”
“Roger . . . and thanks again.”
When I cradled the phone I could see a thousand questions getting ready to come my way. The guy and his wife were all eyes and ears and couldn’t make sense out of my conversation. It had to be a good lie to be believed.
I shoved my badge under their noses. “You’ve overheard an official phone conversation,” I said brusquely. “Under no circumstances repeat any part of it. A band of thieves has been operating in this neighborhood under the guise of being policemen and we almost got them. Unfortunately one got away. There’s been difficulty getting cooperation from the local police, and we have been operating undercover. In case they show up here you saw nothing, heard nothing. Understand?”
Wide-eyed, their heads bobbed in unison and I let myself out through the door. If they believed that one they were crazy.
As soon as I was in the shadows I turned up the road toward York’s estate. Cops or no cops I had to get in there someway. From the top of a knoll I looked down the surrounding countryside. In the distance the lights of Sidon threw a glow into the sky, and here and there other lights twinkled as invisible trees flickered between us in the night breeze. But the one I was interested in was the house a bare mile off that was ablaze with lights in every window and ringed with the twin beams of headlights from the cars patroling the grounds. Occasionally one would throw a spotlight into the bushes, a bright finger of light trying to pin down a furtive figure. Me.
The hell with them. This was one time I couldn’t afford a run-in with the bulls. I cut across the fields until the dark shape of a barn loomed ahead. Behind it was a haystack. It was either one or the other. I chose the stack and crawled in. It would take longer for the cows to eat me out than it would for some up-with-the-sun farmer to spot me shacking up with bossy. Three feet into the hay I shoved an armload of the stuff into the tunnel I had made, kicked my feet around until I had a fair-sized cave and went to sleep.
The sun rose, hit its midpoint then went down before I moved. My belly was rumbling with hunger and my tongue was parched from breathing chaff. If a million ants were inside my shirt I couldn’t have felt more uncomfortable. Keeping the stack between me and the house, I crawled through the grass to the watering trough and brushed away the dirt that had settled on top of the water. If I thought that last bottle of milk was the best drink I ever had, I was wrong. When I could hold no more I splashed my face and neck, letting it soak my shirt, grinning with pleasure.
I heard the back door of the house slam and took a flying dive to the other side of the trough. Footsteps came closer, heavy, boot-shod feet. When I was getting set to make a jump I noticed that the steps were going right on by. My breath came a little easier. Sticking my head out from behind the trough I saw the broad back of my host disappearing into the barn. He was carrying a pail in either hand. That could mean he was coming over to the trough. I had it right then. Trying to step softly, I ducked into a crouch and made a dash for the darkness of the tree line.
Once there I stripped to the skin and dusted myself off with my shirt. Much better. A bath and something to eat and I would feel almost human. Sometime during the night my watch had stopped and I could only guess at the time. I put it at an arbitrary nine thirty and wound it up. Still too early. I had one cigarette left, the mashed, battered remains of a smoke. Shielding the match I fired it up and dragged it down to my fingernails. For two hours I sat on a stump watching a scud of clouds blot out the stars and feeling little crawling things climb up my pants leg.
The bugs were too much. I’d as soon run the risk of bumping into a cordon of Dilwick’s thugs. When my watch said ten after eleven I skirted the edge of the farm and got back on the road. If anyone came along I’d see them a mile away. I found my knoll again. The lights were still on in York’s house, but not in force like they had been. Only one pair of headlights peered balefully around the grounds.
An hour later I stood opposite the east wall leaning over the edge of a five-foot drainage ditch with my watch in my hands. At regular six-minute intervals the outlines of a man in a slouch hat and raincoat would drift past. When he reached the end of the wall he turned and came back. There were two of them on this side. Always, when they met at the middle of the wall, there would be some smart retort that I couldn’t catch. But their pacing was regular. Dilwick should have been in the Army. A regular beat like that was a cinch to sneak through. Once a car drove by checking up on the men and tossing a spot into the bushes, but from that angle the ditch itself was completely concealed by the foot-high weeds that grew along its lip.
It had to be quick. And noiseless.
It took the guy three minutes to reach the end of the wall, three minutes to get back to me again. Maybe three-quarters of a minute if he ran. When he passed the next time I checked my watch, keeping my eyes on the second hand. One, two, two and a half. I gripped the edge of the ditch. Ten seconds, five . . . I crouched . . . now! Vaulting the ditch I ducked across the road to the wall. Ten feet away, the tree I had chosen waved to me with leafy fingers. I jumped, grabbed the lowest limb and swung up, then picked my way up until I was even with the wall. My clothes caught on spike-like branches, ripped loose, then caught again.