Hit and Run

'You had to drive a mile and a half before you reached the road that leads here. Did you pass any car while you were coming here?'

'I don't think so.'

'Are you quite sure about that?'

'I don't remember passing any.'

'I think you must have, Lucille. After all it's a highway. The time was around half past ten. There must have been a number of cars on the road.'

'I didn't notice any.'

'I think you must have passed at least one car, Lucille.'

'Suppose I did?' Her voice shot up. 'I tell you I didn't notice any, but suppose I did? What does it matter?'

'You were driving with only one light: the other light was smashed. An approaching motorist, seeing you, would think you were driving a motor-cycle until he was close enough to see you were driving a car. He would remember that.'

She moved impatiently.

'So what does it matter?'

'It does. If the car was seen and remembered, the police will know in which direction you were travelling. It will tell them you weren't leaving town. That's the one thing they can't be sure about: whether the car that killed O'Brien left town before the road blocks were set up. If you were seen, the police will know where to look for the car. Instead of having to search the whole town, they will know the first place to look is on the coast roads-right here!'

If possible, her face went a shade paler than it was already.

'Oh! I hadn't thought of that'

'That's the main reason why I'm asking all these questions. Will you please try to concentrate? It's more than important. Can't you remember if you passed any cars?'

She shook her head helplessly.

'I can't remember. All I was thinking about was getting to your place.'

'At least you must remember if you met any cars on this road.'

'I'm sure I didn't.'

Thinking about it, it seemed to me the situation was pretty bad. She must have passed a number of cars on the highway. Someone must have noticed she was driving with only one headlamp. Sooner or later this someone would remember and report to the police, and then the search would concentrate on the district where I lived.

'Well, all right, I think that's about all,' I said. 'You'd better go home. There's nothing you can do now you must leave me to handle it.'

She got hesitantly to her feet.

'But what are you going to do, Ches?'

'I honestly don't know for the moment. I've got to think about it. You have my promise to keep

you out of it if I possibly can. If things look as if they are going wrong, I'll let you know. That's as far as I can go for the moment.'

She studied me, her face tense.

'What are you going to do about your car?'

'That's something else I'll have to think about. I don't know.'

'And this man who telephoned?'

'I'll wait until he contacts me again. If you hear from him, let me know.'

'But suppose he asks me for money? I'm sure that is what he plans to do.'

'Let's wait until he does,' I said impatiently. 'If he does want money, tell him you must talk to me first.'

'Can I promise him some money?' she asked, staring at me.

I looked at her and her eyes shifted from mine.

'No, you can't promise him anything. If he asks for money, tell him to contact me. I'll deal with him. You know, Lucille, you seem most anxious for him to have money either from you or me.'

'I'm not! I just want to know where I am!' Her voice went shrill. 'I know he is going to blackmail me! I haven't any money! How would you like to be in my place? How would you like to know someone is going to blackmail you, and you can't pay and everything that means anything to you will be taken away? How would you like that?'

'For heaven's sake!' I exclaimed impatiently. 'He hasn't even asked you for anything yet. Will you stop working yourself up? If he does ask for money, let me know. I'll deal with him. Now go home. I have a lot to think about, and I can't begin to think until you have gone.'

She got to her feet. She looked suddenly very young and unhappy and desirable.

'Then I just have to wait, Ches?'

'Call me around ten o'clock tonight. I may have something to tell you.'

Then suddenly she was in my arms, her mouth soft and trembling against mine, her arms clinging to me, her body pressing against mine.

'Oh, Ches ...' she whispered, her hands moving up the nape of my neck. 'I'm so frightened. You will look after me? You will make this come right?'

I made the effort and pushed her away from me, then I turned and walked over to the window while I got myself in hand. The feel of her lips against mine had really got me going.

'I'm relying on you, Ches,' she said. 'I'll call you tonight.'

'Do that,' I said, not looking around.

I heard her move across the lounge, away from me, and again I had to make an effort not to turn around and stop her going.

I stood there, staring out of the window, long after I heard the front door click shut, telling me she had gone.

II

The time was now twenty minutes to eleven.

I sat in the easy chair and my thoughts were busy.