‘He could have run short of money. Start checking on the cheaper joints,’ Terrell said. ‘He could still be here.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Lepski said and after he had hung up, he groaned.
Chapter Nine
Ticky Edris came out of the kitchenette, carrying a jug of coffee which he put on the table. He had slept badly and was edgy. During the night he had lain in the dark and brooded about his now uncertain future. He hated being forced to leave his apartment and all because Algir was an irresponsible, unreliable sonofabitch. He glanced at Algir, the hate in his eyes scarcely concealed, as he poured two cups of coffee.
Algir sat in the armchair, smoking. He also had slept badly, and there were dark smudges under his eyes. He kept looking towards the clock, waiting impatiently for the 07.34 hours news broadcast.
‘Hasn’t the paper come yet?’ he demanded as he reached for his cup of coffee.
‘No!’ Edris went over to the cocktail cabinet and added a liberal shot of brandy to his coffee.
‘I’ll have some of that,’ Algir said.
Edris gave him the bottle and as Algir poured the brandy into his cup, he again looked at the clock. It was 07.27 hours. Had the clock stopped? He checked his wristwatch and grunted with impatience.
‘Oh, relax!’ Edris said irritably. ‘I tell you we’re in the clear! Hamilton said the cops haven’t a clue. He doesn’t think they’ll ever find out who she is.’
‘That bum! What does he know about it?’ Algir sipped his coffee, then reaching forward, he snapped on the radio.
The two men listened impatiently to the tag end of a swing number and then with even more impatience to the political news. Then finally, they stiffened to attention as the announcer continued, ‘There have been new developments in the Coral Cove murder case. The police want to interview Phillip Algir, alias Harry Chambers, last known address The Regent Hotel, Paradise City, who they believe can help them in their inquiries. Algir’s description is as follows: height six foot; weight 190 pounds; broad shoulders, blond, small moustache, blue eyes and a deep cleft in his chin. Last seen, he was wearing a fawn — coloured suit and a chocolate coloured straw hat with a red band. He was driving a convertible Roadmaster Buick, two toned red and blue, licence number NY 4599. If anyone has information concerning this man’s whereabouts, please telephone Police headquarters: Paradise 0010 immediately.’
The two men sat stunned for some thirty seconds while dance music filled the yawning silence between them. Then Algir suddenly came to life. With a muttered curse, he flung his coffee cup at Edris. The cup exploded in fragments against Edris’ chest, splashing hot coffee in his face.
‘You slob!’ Algir yelled, jumping to his feet. ‘I’ll kill you for this! God damn you! I’ll tear your stinking heart out!’
Edris slid off the settee as Algir rushed at him. Quick as a lizard he avoided Algir’s groping hands and darted into his bedroom, slamming and locking the door.
Cursing, Algir drove his shoulder against the door panel. The door quivered, but held. He stood back, panting, glaring at the door, his hands clenching and unclenching. Then the full impact of the broadcast hit him and he nearly threw up. He sat down, swallowing bile, his body cold, icy sweat beading his face, his teeth chattering.
In his bedroom, also scared witless, sure that Algir would murder him if he could get at him, Edris rushed to his chest of drawers, jerked open the lower drawer and searched frantically for the .25 automatic pistol he kept there. He couldn’t find it. Flinging everything out of the drawer, he satisfied himself the gun wasn’t there. Algir must have taken it, he thought. No one else could have taken it but Algir. His legs shaking, he abruptly sat on the bed, staring at the door like a terrified bird facing a snake. It wasn’t until Algir had drunk half the bottle of brandy and some twenty minutes had elapsed that he began to recover his nerve.
They hadn’t got him yet, he told himself. He was in a jam, but he still had a chance if he used his head. The cops would be watching the airport and the railroad station. They would be looking out for his car on the road. The Havana flight was down the drain. Even if they weren’t watching the road, he dare not use the Buick which at this moment was safely out of sight in Edris’ lock-up garage.
Well, that damned dwarf had got him into this and now he would have to get him out of it! He got to his feet and went over to the bedroom door.
‘All right, Ticky,’ he said. ‘Come on out. I won’t touch you. We’ve got to talk this one over. Come on out!’
‘I’m staying here,’ Edris said. He was changing into a dry shirt. ‘I don’t trust you.’
‘Don’t be a fool. We’re wasting time. We’re both in this. We’ve got to talk about it.’
Edris hesitated. Algir’s voice was no longer angry. He knew Algir’s temper went as quickly as it came but he wished he had his gun. He slid into another suit, then as Algir again shouted to him to come out, he unlocked the door and cautiously opened it.
Algir was standing in the middle of the room. In his right hand, he held Edris’ gun, pointing at the floor.
Edris paused. His face twitched as he stared at the gun.
‘All right, all right, you yellow freak,’ Algir snarled. ‘I’m not going to do anything to you.’
‘Gimme that gun! It’s mine!’ Edris said, moving into the sitting room.
‘You’re safer without it,’ Algir said, dropping the gun into his pocket. ‘Sit down! We’ve got to talk.’
Edris sat down, his mind busy. How had the cops got onto Algir? he asked himself. He knew if they caught him, he would talk. Algir would have no qualms about implicating him; Edris was sure of that. There was only one thing to do. He would have to catch Algir off guard and kill him before the cops did catch him.
Algir was saying, ‘We’re both in this, Ticky. It doesn’t look as if the cops are on to you or they would have been here by now. It doesn’t look as if they are on to Ira yet. They couldn’t suppress the news if they knew she wasn’t Norena. Now, listen, we stand a small chance of beating this rap. We might just make it in your Mini. If we can get as far as Miami, I know a guy who will keep us under the wraps until the heat cools. This guy has connections and he can get us onto a boat for Cuba, but it’ll cost. He’s expensive. Before we leave here, we’ve got to scrape up every dollar we can lay our hands on. So we’ve just got to make a try at the Garland loot.’
Edris stared at him. He knew what Algir was saying about getting as much money as they could together made sense, but not from the bank! That was crazy!
‘You can’t go to the bank, you hunk head,’ he snarled. ‘They’ll spot you.’
‘Who says I’m going to the bank? Until it’s time to move, I’m staying right here,’ Algir said. He pointed to the telephone. ‘Call Ira! Tell her to meet you at the café opposite the bank in half an hour. You said yesterday, if I quit, she would bring the money out. Well, that’s just what she’s going to do! I don’t give a damn how you persuade her, but persuade her! Tell her as soon as the vaults are open for her to get the money, then she must tell the guards she is feeling ill and she must leave the bank. You’ll be waiting at the cafe. Go on, telephone her how!’
Edris hesitated.
Cursing, Algir pulled the gun from his pocket and pointed it at Edris.
‘If you don’t do it, I’ll kill you! Do it, damn you!’
Edris walked slowly over to the telephone. He dialled a number after first checking in the book. A woman’s voice answered: ‘This is Mr. Devon’s residence.’
‘I want to speak to Miss Devon,’ Edris said.
The woman told him to hold on. There was a short delay, then Ira came to the telephone.