Just Another Sucker

‘Why, hello, Mr. Barber,’ he said, getting to his feet. He looked inquiringly at Renick.

‘This is Lieutenant Renick, City Police, Bill,’ I said. ‘He wants to ask you a few questions.’

Holden looked startled.

‘Why, sure, Lieutenant. Go right ahead.’

Here it comes, I thought. This is something, if I can’t lie myself out of, that’ll sink me.

Renick said, ‘We’re trying to trace a girl: she’s around twenty, pretty, with red hair and wearing a blue and white cotton dress. She wore big sun goggles and ballet type shoes. Mean anything to you?’

Holden didn’t hesitate. He shook his head.

‘I’m sorry, Lieutenant, it’s no good asking me a thing like that. I see thousands of girls here during the season. To me, they’re like so many grains of sand. I never even see them.’

‘We have reason to believe this girl was here around midnight on Saturday. Were you here Saturday night?’

‘No. I went off duty at eight.’ Holden looked at me, ‘but you were here, weren’t you, Mr. Barber?’

Somehow I managed to look a lot calmer than I felt.

‘Not Saturday, Bill. I was at home.’

Renick was staring at me.

‘Well, then I guess I can’t help you, Lieutenant,’ Holden said.

‘What makes you think Mr. Barber was here on Saturday night?’ Renick asked in a deceptively mild voice.

‘I just imagined he was. He…’

I cut in.

‘I had rented a cabin here, John. I was planning a book. I found I couldn’t work at home.’

‘Is – that – right?’ The unbelief in his voice was painful to hear. ‘You didn’t tell me that.’

I forced a grin.

‘The book didn’t jell.’

Renick stared at me for a moment, then turned to Holden.

‘Were all the cabins locked on Saturday night?’

‘Sure,’ Holden said. ‘I locked them myself: except Mr. Barber’s cabin of course. He had the key.’

‘None of the locks had been tampered with?’

‘No.’

‘Did you lock your cabin, Harry?’ Renick asked.

‘I think so. I can’t be sure. Maybe I didn’t.’

‘Which was your cabin?’

‘The last one on the left, Lieutenant,’ Holden said. He was now uneasy and he kept shooting glances at me and then at Renick.

‘Anyone in the cabin now?’

Holden looked at a chart on the wall.

‘It’s empty right now.’

‘Have you ever seen Odette Malroux here?’ Renick asked.

‘The girl who was kidnapped?’ Holden shook his head. ‘She never came here, Lieutenant. I’d know her. I’ve seen enough pictures of her. No… she never came here.’

‘I’ll take a look at the cabin. Got the key?’

‘It’ll be in the door, Lieutenant.’

Renick started for the door and I started after him.

Holden said, ‘Oh, Mr. Barber…’

Here it comes, I thought. I turned and grimaced at him.

‘I’ll be right back,’ I said, and as Renick paused, I crowded up against him, trying to shove him out of the little office.

‘What is it?’ Renick asked Holden, refusing to be shoved.

‘It’s okay, Lieutenant,’ Holden said, looking unhappy. ‘It’s nothing important.’

Renick went out into the hot sunshine. We walked in silence along the wooden slats laid on the sand, avoiding the half-naked sun-bathers who stared at us, wondering who we were in our city clothes, until we came to the cabin where Odette had died.

The key was in the lock. Renick pushed open the door and stepped in. He looked around, then, turning, he looked hard at me.

‘You didn’t tell me you had hired this cabin, Harry?’

‘Should I have done?’ I remained by the door. ‘It didn’t cross my mind you’d be interested.’

‘This is where she could have been murdered.’

‘Think so? She could have been murdered on the beach.’

‘I want you to think: did you lock the door or didn’t you?’

‘I don’t have to think – I didn’t lock it,’ I said. ‘I didn’t tell Holden that. I didn’t want him to get mad at me. I left the key in the lock. I found it on Monday when I looked in to pick up my typewriter.’

‘So she could have been murdered here.’

‘The locks on these doors don’t mean a thing. She could have been murdered in any of the cabins or on the beach.’

He brooded for a long minute while I stood there, listening to the thump-thump-thump of my heart beats.

Then he glanced at his wrist watch.

‘Okay, Harry, you get off home. I don’t want you any more for tonight. Get one of the boys to run you home. Tell the others I want them right here.’

‘I don’t mind sticking around if I can be of any help,’ I said.

‘It’s okay. You get off home.’

He wasn’t looking at me now, but staring around the room. I knew what would happen the moment I had gone. They would take the cabin to pieces. The fingerprint boys would test every inch of the place and sooner or later they would find Odette’s prints. There was just a chance they would also find Rhea’s prints and O’Reilly’s prints. They would certainly find mine, but that didn’t worry me. What did worry me was that Renick would go back to Bill Holden and ask him if he had seen a big, broad-shouldered man in a brown sports suit, and Holden would tell him I had been wearing a brown sports suit.

But was this proof that I had killed Odette? I didn’t think so. I felt I had still a little time: it was running out on me fast, but at least, I had a little time.

‘See you tomorrow then, John.’

‘That’s it.’