1971 - Want to Stay Alive

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Book: Read 1971 - Want to Stay Alive for Free Online
Authors: James Hadley Chase
everything organised. Under the back seat of the car was a steel hook and a length of steel cable. It had been child’s play to rip off the grille that protected the stock room window of the gunsmith’s store.
    While Chuck, sweating slightly and nervous, had kept watch in the dark alley, Poke had slid through the window. A minute or so later, he had handed out a target rifle, a telescopic sight and a box containing a silencer.
    Chuck took these articles from him and put the m under the seat of the car.
    They had driven back to the Motel.
    “Go to bed,” Poke said as he pulled up outside Chuck’s cabin. “Don’t tell her a thing. . . understand?”
    Chuck got out of the car.
    “What are you going to do?”
    “You’ll know,” Poke said quietly and drove away into the darkness.
    Chuck found Meg in bed, awake and waiting for him anxiously.
    “Where have you been?” she asked, watching him undress.
    He slid into the big bed beside her and reached for her.
    “Where have you been?” she repeated, wrestling with him. “Don’t mess me around. You haven’t washed, you pig! You haven’t even cleaned your teeth!”
    “Who cares?” Chuck said and forced her on her back.
    They slept until 09.50. As Meg was heating coffee, she saw through the window, Poke drive up and put the car in the garage.
    “Has he been out all night?” she asked, pouring the coffee into cups.
    “Why don’t you ask him?” Chuck said.
    That silenced her.
    Later, Chuck shaved and took a shower while Meg watched the commercials on TV.
    As Chuck was soaping himself he wondered about Poke. He thought of the gun. Poke had been out all night. There were to be three killings, he had said. Uneasily, Chuck wondered if Poke had used the gun already.
    It was while he was combing his hair that Pete Hamilton came on the screen to tell about McCuen’s murder. He was talking about the note that McCuen had received as Chuck came out of the shower room.
    “Listen to this,” Meg said excitedly.
    “So there’s a killer in our midst . . . possibly a lunatic killer,” Hamilton was saying. “A man who calls himself The Executioner. What is his motive? Will he kill again? Last night, a high powered target rifle was stolen from the well-known gunsmith’s store . . . Danvaz Guns. Was the stolen rifle the weapon that killed McCuen? Here is the photograph of the gun which is fitted with a telescopic sight and a silencer.” The picture changed to show the rifle and Chuck flinched.
    Hamilton went on, “Look carefully at this picture. If you have seen this gun before, if you have seen anyone with such a gun, then call Police Headquarters immediately. Dean K. McCuen was one of our best known citizens. He . . .”
    Chuck turned off the set.
    “Who cares?” he said, trying to make his voice sound casual. “Let’s go look at the town.”
    Meg was staring at him. He had lost colour and there were sweat beads on his forehead and his eyes were shifty. She felt a chill run up her spine.
    “What’s the matter?”
    Chuck put on his shirt.
    “Matter? Nothing’s the matter! Don’t you want to take a look at the town?”
    “This murder . . . this man . . . The Executioner . . . it’s nothing to do with us, is it, Chuck?”
    Chuck pulled on his trousers.
    “You nuts or something? To do with us?”
    He didn’t meet her eyes.
    “Then why are you looking like that? It is something to do with us!” Meg retreated away from him. “Why was he out all night? Where’s all this money he’s promising coming from?”
    Chuck knew this was a moment of crisis. This was a now or never situation.
    “Okay!” he said, his voice savage. “Pack your things! You were warned! You were told not to ask questions . . . now, you’re out! Go on! Pack your goddamn things! You’re out!”
    Meg cringed and waved her hands helplessly at him.
    “No! Come with me, Chuck: He’s bad! I know it! Come with me!”
    “You heard what I said! Pack! You’re out!”
    She sat on the unmade bed,

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