Read 1954 - Safer Dead for Free Online Page B

believe this guy had something to do with her disappearance. Did you ever see them together?’
    ‘I don’t think so. He went out early and Miss Benson didn’t leave her room until late.’
    ‘Where was his room? Near Miss Benson’s?’
    ‘Their rooms were opposite on the second floor,’ Larson said after consulting the register.
    ‘So they could have got together without you knowing it?’
    ‘I guess so. We haven’t any permanent floor staff. After eight, none of the staff goes upstairs.’
    ‘Did Rutland say why he had come to Welden?’
    ‘No. He didn’t mention what his business was.’
    ‘Did he have much luggage?’
    ‘Just a suitcase.’
    ‘Any visitors, mail or telephone calls?’
    ‘I don’t think so. I’m sure he didn’t.’
    ‘Would there be anyone at the garage now?’
    ‘Joe will be there. We don’t shut down until one o’clock.’
    ‘I’ll have a word with him.’
    But the garage attendant didn’t remember the licence number of the Cadillac. He remembered the car and he remembered Henry Rutland.
    ‘He had plenty of dough,’ he told me, ‘and he was pretty free with it. He took the car out every morning around ten and brought it back any time between midnight and one o’clock. He wanted it cleaned every day. He was fussy about how it looked. Sorry I can’t remember the licence number. It’s fourteen months ago, and I get a lot of cars through my hands.’
    I gave him half a buck and went back to the hotel. I found Bernie lying on his bed, a look of anguish on his fat face.
    ‘His name is Henry Rutland and he came from Los Angeles.’
    ‘I couldn’t care less who he is,’ Bernie groaned. ‘I could kick myself. To think I’ve been walking five solid hours when all the time I could have been resting in the bar.’
    I laughed. It struck me as funny.
    ‘Forget it. It’s probably done you good. It’s time you had some exercise. It’s too late to tell Creed tonight. I’ll see him tomorrow. Well, I guess I’ll turn in.’ I broke off as I saw Bernie’s eyes open very wide as he stared past me towards the door.
    I looked over my shoulder and my heart skipped a beat. Standing in the doorway was a short, thickset man whose round heavy face was the colour of cold mutton fat. He had on a dirty trench coat and a black slouch hat pulled down over his right eye. A two-day growth of beard darkened his jowls, and there was a cold viciousness in his slate-grey eyes that sent a chill of apprehension up my spine.
    In his right hand he held a .38 automatic, and it pointed at me.
     

III
     
    F or a long moment we stared at each other, then he said, ‘Stay just as you are.’ His voice was low pitched and nasal. His lips scarcely moved when he spoke. ‘Which of you is Sladen?’
    ‘I am,’ I said and I was annoyed my voice sounded unsteady.
    ‘Okay; now listen: you two get out of town tomorrow. We don’t want you in Welden. You’re to be out by eleven tomorrow morning. We shan’t tell you again. If you think we’re bluffing, stick around and see what happens to you. Get it?’
    I drew in a deep breath. I was over my first shock and now I was angry.
    ‘What’s the idea?’ I demanded, glaring at him. ‘Who are you, anyway?’
    ‘Never mind what the idea is. This is a tipoff.’ He suddenly began to shake and twitch. He put his left hand against the wall to steady himself, and it was only with an effort he got himself talking again: ‘If it wasn’t for the boss, I’d knock you two punks off now! You know what happened to Hesson. I’ll do it to you two if you’re not out of Welden by eleven o’clock tomorrow morning.’ He took a step back into the passage, his hand on the doorknob. ‘And don’t kid yourselves the cops can protect you. There ain’t enough cops in this town to keep us from getting at you. Pack up and get out!’ He stood in the doorway, twitching and glaring at us, then he reached for the handle and slammed the door.
    Bernie and I remained motionless,