I Would Rather Stay Poor

‘I haven’t either,’ Iris said, her face clouding. ‘She worries me. She seems to be avoiding me. I haven’t seen her to talk to more than three or four times during the past week.’

‘You mustn’t worry about her,’ Calvin said. ‘She’s all right. I see her every evening. I think she’s a little unsettled about getting married again. It’s understandable.’ He paused, then went on, ‘I can imagine what you are thinking. You’re worried about her drinking. Well, I’ve talked to her. She admitted she had started again, but she’s promised to stop. It’ll be all right. I’m going to look after her.’

‘That’s a relief!’ Iris said. ‘I certainly was worrying about that.’

‘Well, don’t. I’ve got all that taken care of. Now I must get back to work. I look forward to working with you tomorrow.’ He gave her his charming smile and then closed the bank door after her.

He walked heavy-footed back to his office. He picked up the telephone receiver and dialled the number of the rooming-house. When Flo came on the line, he asked if he could speak to Kit.

Flo sounded worried.

‘Miss Kit ain’t down yet, Mr. Calvin, sir,’ she said. ‘I’ve been up to her room, but she says I’m not to disturb her. Should I go up again?’

‘No… leave it,’ Calvin said. ‘You carry on, Flo. I expect she’s upset about Miss Alice,’ and he hung up.

His fleshy face twisted with rage.

She was drunk again. He would have to get rid of her. The sooner the better. She was dangerous.

Yes, he would have to get rid of her.

CHAPTER TWO

1

Easton, Sheriff Thomson and Travers sat in the sheriff’s office. The time was twenty minutes past eight p.m. Easton was sipping a glass of milk. The sheriff and Travers were drinking beer. They had listened to the eight o’clock broadcast, giving a description of Johnny and of the Lincoln car.

The sudden sound of the telephone bell brought the three men alert.

‘Here we go,’ the sheriff said and reached for the telephone. He listened to a man’s voice that came over the line.

‘Okay, Mr. Oakes,’ he said. ‘Sure, I’ve got it. We’ll be right over if you’ll wait for us. Yeah… say in thirty minutes.’ He hung up and looked at Easton, ‘Oakes of Triumph Car Mart at Downside. He’s pretty sure he sold the Lincoln to our friend.’

Easton finished his milk and stood up.

‘You stick here, sheriff, in case any more leads come in. Ken and me will go see this guy.’

Thirty minutes later, Easton and Travers walked into the brightly lit car mart.

Seeing them come, Fred Oakes, a fat, elderly man, hurried towards them.

After introductions, he said, ‘This fella matched the description I heard on the radio. He was tall, heavily built and he had black sideboards and a moustache. He wore a belted, fawn-coloured coat.’

‘Just when did you see him, Mr. Oakes?’ Easton asked.

‘I’ve got the exact date and the time,’ Oakes said. ‘I have it all right here for you, together with the fella’s address.’ He gave Easton a copy of the sale receipt of the Lincoln, bearing an address.

Easton scratched the side of his neck as he stared at the address.

‘Johnny Acres, 12477, California Drive, Los Angeles,’ he intoned. ‘Probably phoney. Anyway, I’ll check.’ He looked at Oakes, ‘Could you identify this man again?’

Fred Oakes nodded. Although his feet ached and he was tired, he was enjoying being questioned. He knew for sure he would see his name in the papers the following day: maybe, even a photograph.

‘I’d know him anywhere.’

‘Was he alone?’

‘Yes.’

‘How did he pay?’

‘In cash. He gave me sixty ten-dollar bills.’

‘Any chance of examining the bills?’

Oakes shook his head.

‘We do most of our business in cash. The money’s been banked days ago.’

Travers asked, ‘Mr. Oakes, how did you react to this man – as a man? Did you like him?’

Oakes was quick to understand what Travers meant.

‘I couldn’t say I took to him. I didn’t pay much attention to him, but I got the impression he wasn’t the sort of guy you’d pick for a friend. I can’t say why. There was something about him… then he had this habit of humming under his breath. It irritated me.’

Travers became alert.

‘Humming under his breath?’

‘That’s right. Whenever I was talking to him, he started this low humming sound… sort of an unconscious habit I guess.’

Easton said impatiently, ‘Never mind that stuff, let’s have the details of the car. I want the licence number, the engine number and the make of tyres.’

Oakes supplied the information and Easton jotted it down. Then shaking Oakes’s hand, Easton got back into his car.

‘Well, here’s something for the S.A. to work on,’ he said as Travers joined him. ‘We should be able to pick up the car pretty fast. I’m going back to the office. What do you want to do?’

‘Drop me off at the station,’ Travers said. ‘I’ll take a train back.’

As Easton headed for the station, he said, ‘We’ve got to find out where this guy kept the Lincoln. He bought it nearly a month ago. He must have kept it somewhere. I’ll have the S.A. put out another broadcast.’