I'll Get You For This

  "It wasn't as if they beat you, burnt you with cigarettes, took off your clothes and paraded you before a crowd of grinning prison guards," she went on, her voice low. "They didn't come into your cell at night, did they ? You didn't have a crazy woman whispering through the bars at you—awful, filthy whispering ..."

  "Honey . . ."

  "Well, did you? I'm the one who suffered, not you. I don't want revenge. I want you. I don't want anything or anyone but you. I'm out of it. I'm glad to be out of it. God! I'm glad to be out of it. But you want to go back. You want to fight them. You want to avenge me. But I don't want to be avenged." Her voice broke suddenly. "Darling—can't you think of me a little—can't you let this one thing go—for me? For us?"

  I patted her arm, stood up.

  There was a long silence, then I heard her get up. She came and stood by my side, slipped her arm through mine.

  "Was that what you meant when you said I wouldn't fit in with your kind of life?" she asked.

  I looked down at her, put my arm round her, pulled her to me. "Yeah," I said. "I'm not made to be pushed around. I'm sorry, kid, but I'm going back. I said I'd fix Killeano, and I'm going to fix him. I feel a heel doing this to you, but I have to five with myself, and I'd never forgive myself if I let that rat slip through my hands."

  "All right, darling," she said. "I see how it is. I'm sorry I didn't understand before. Forgive me?"

  I kissed her.

  "Darling," she said after a while, "do you want me to wait for you?"

  I stared at her. "You're certainly going to wait for me," I said.

  She shook her head. "Not certainly," she said. "I'll wait, on one condition. Otherwise I won't be here when you come back. I mean it."

  "And the condition?"

  "You're not to kill Killeano. Up to now you have defended yourself. If you kill Killeano it will be murder. That mustn't be. Will you promise?"

  "Now, I can't promise that," I said "He might get me in spot—–"

  "That's different. I mean you're not to go gunning for him. If he attacks you, then that's different. But you're not to hunt him down and shoot him as you have been planning to do."

  "Okay," I said. "I promise."

  I held her close, then suddenly I felt her back stiffen. I looked over my shoulder.

  Tim's boat was not more than a mile out to sea. He was coming fast.

2

  Davis, Tim and I sat around the table in Tim's sitting-room, a bottle of Scotch within reach, full glasses in our hands.

  Davis had just come in. It was early evening, and Tim and I hadn't been back long from Key West.

  "I've been busy," Davis said, grinning at me, "but before I sound off, how's the kid?"

  "She's all right," I said. "They gave her hell in that jail, but she didn't lie down under it. She's fine now."

  Davis looked across at Tim, who shrugged.

  "Of course, she didn't want me to come back," I said, rubbing my jaw, "but she'll get over that too."

  "Well, so long as she's okay," Davis said, combing his hair and looking puzzled, "that's swell."

  Tim said, "The trouble with this guy is he won't leave trouble alone. There was a sweet scene when Hetty heard he was coming back—–"

  "All right," I interrupted curtly. "Let's skip the domestic details. What's new?"

  "Plenty," Davis said, lighting a cigarette. "Flaggerty's dead for a start. Howja like that? He was killed by one of the convicts: cracked his skull with an axe."

  "That's one less for me to bother about," I said.

  "Yeah. And here's a juicy morsel. Killeano's taken over Flaggerty's job. He won't release the jail break to the press. I guess it's too close to the election for bad news to be told to the trusting public."

  "What happened to Mitchell?"

  "He skipped out. I saw him before he went, and he gave me the whole story. I hand it to you, pal. It was a pretty smooth effort. I wrote it up, but the editor killed it after consulting Killeano. The public doesn't know a thing about it."

  "And Maxison?"

  "He managed to keep his nose clean, but only just. Laura supported his story, and after sweating him, Killeano turned him loose. He's back at work now, but, I must say, he looks like a fugitive from the Lost Horizon. There's one thing you ought to know. They've turned up Brodey's body."

  "He's dead?" I said sharply.

  "Yeah. He was found at Dayden Beach. Your Luger by his side. Guess who killed him?"

  "I know," I said, clenching my fists. "So I'm wanted for three murders now?"

  "You sure are," Davis said, looking smug.

  "Too bad," I said, took a drink and eyed him over. "What else?"

  "That's all the topical news," he said, reached inside his pocket and took out a five-dollar bill. He tossed it over to me. "Picked that up at the Casino a couple of nights back."

  I turned the note over, held it up to the light. It looked all right to me.

  "So what?"

  "It's a dud."

I stared at the note again. It still looked fine to me.

"Sure?"

"Yeah. I had it checked by my bank. They say it's a first-class job, but it's a dud all right."

"I'll say it's a first-class job," I said. "You got it from the Casino?"