Ken Holland closed the front door and walked with shaky legs back to the lounge. He rested his hands on the back of an easy chair and leaned his weight on them. His heart was still pounding. He still felt the suffocating fear that had gripped him at the sight of the two detectives as they had come up the path.
What an escape! he thought. Did they notice how scared I was? I’ve got to pull myself together. If they ever get on to me I’ll give myself away if I behave like that again.
He suddenly thought of Parker.
He must be warned.
He hurried to the telephone, dialled and listened to the ringing tone.
Hurry up! he thought feverishly. They’ll be around to you any moment. Hurry up!
There was a click on the line, and Mrs. Parker’s chilly, pedantic voice asked who was calling.
“This is Kenway Holland. May I speak to Max?”
“Well, he’s in the garden,” Mrs. Parker said dubiously as if her husband
was in China. “I’ll see if I can get him. Hold on a moment.”
Ken waited in an agony of suspense.
“Are you there?” Mrs. Parker asked after a long wait. “I’ll get him to call you back. He’s talking to two men at the moment. I can’t imagine who they are, but I don’t suppose he’ll be long.”
“Thank you,” Ken said, and hung up.
He went over to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a shot of whisky and drank it. He lit a cigarette and sat down. There was nothing he could do now but wait.
What would happen to Parker? Would he be able to bluff Donovan? Would he admit knowing Fay Carson? Would he tell Donovan he had given Ken Fay’s telephone number? Would Parker remember that Ken owned a light-gray suit ?
Unable to sit still while his mind was crawling with alarm, Ken got up and went into the garden. He went down the path to the gate and stared up and down the street. He wanted to walk to the corner to see if the police car was still outside Parker’s house, but he was scared the detectives might see him.
After a long moment of staring up and down the street, he returned to the bungalow.
Then from nowhere a sudden paralysing thought came into his mind.
What had he done with the registration book he had taken from the car attendant’s hut?
He turned hot, then cold when he realized he had no idea what had become of the book. Until this moment he had completely forgotten about it.
He remembered slipping it into his hip pocket while he talked to the car attendant, but after that he had no recollection of what he had done with it.
It hadn’t been in the suit. Before he had taken the suit back to Gaza’s store, he had gone through the pockets most carefully.
Then where was it?
Had he dropped it in the street?
If it were found it would be recognized. The owner of every car entered in the book would be investigated, and his car number was in the book!
He looked around wildly. If he had dropped it somewhere in the bungalow, Carrie might have found it and put it away as she put everything away.
He began a feverish and futile search.
It was growing dark by the time he satisfied himself the book wasn’t in the bungalow. He was in a panic as he stood staring around the now disordered lounge.
Had the book slipped out of his pocket while he had been driving home?
What a fool he was!
Of course that was what must have happened. He should have looked in the car first.
He went to the front door, opened it and started down the path towards the garage when he saw Parker at the gate.
He stopped short, looking at Parker who came up the path in the gathering dusk, his head held low, a stoop to his shoulders.
“I want to talk to you,” he said as he came up to Ken.
“Come in,” Ken said, and led the way into the lounge. He turned on the light. “I’m sorry the place is in such a mess. I lost something, and I’ve been hunting for it.”
Parker went over to an armchair and sank into it. His fat, usually red face looked flabby and pale, and his hands were unsteady as he rested them on the arms of the chair.
“If you’ve got a drink…” he said.
“Sure,” Ken said, and fixed two highballs. “That detective fellow was here. He wanted your address. I tried to call you, but he got around to you too fast.”
Parker stared at him in a disconcerting, searching way. Ken gave him the highball and then moved awkwardly to an armchair and sat down.
“What happened?” he asked after a long pause.
“They didn’t get anything out of me,” Parker said, his voice flat and cold. “I stuck to my story. I damn well had to. The sergeant said I was lying; he said I called Fay. I told him to prove it. He didn’t rattle me, but he had a damn good try. When he saw he was getting nowhere, he said he didn’t think I had killed her — that’s nice, isn’t it? He hoped I might know who her men friends were. I knew I didn’t dare admit I knew her. I swore I hadn’t called her. He said no other call had been made from the pay booth at the time I said I had called Maisie. I guessed by the way he talked no one but you had seen me use the booth, so I said I might have been mistaken about the time. I said it was possible I had called Maisie earlier than ten. So he said he would talk to Maisie.” Parker took a long drink, wiped his face and stared down at his feet. “That was a pretty horrible ten minutes. I don’t think I’ll ever forget waiting in the garden with the other detective while the sergeant talked to Maisie. She was terrific. She must have guessed I had got myself into a mess. She lied her head off. She told the sergeant I had called her just after nine, and not after ten as I had said. The sergeant must have been a first-class fool. He actually told her I had called her at ten. She was so emphatic that he believed her. He even apologized to me.”
Ken relaxed back in his chair.
“I can’t say how glad I am…”
Again Parker gave him the odd, searching stare.
“When they had gone, I told Maisie the truth,” he said slowly. “She’s taken it pretty hard.”
“You didn’t tell her about the girl? That you and she…?”
“I had to. She knew I had lied to the sergeant. I couldn’t look her in the face and lie to her. She asked -me bluntly if I had been fooling around with Fay. I had to admit it.”
Ken realized that if Ann had put the same question to him, he would have been unable to lie to her.
“I’m sorry…”
“Yes.” Parker ran his hand over his face. “She’s taken it pretty hard. Of course her mother heard all about it. She made things damned difficult. This could break up my home.”
“I can’t say how sorry I am.”
“Well, I brought it on myself. It’s damned funny, but I felt so safe with Fay. I thought I could get away with it. What a fool I’ve been!” He looked up suddenly and stared hard at Ken. “But that’s enough about me. I’m not going to talk any more about my troubles. There’s something else I want to say. The sergeant gave me a description of the man they want. They think he killed Fay. I’ve been thinking about what he said.” He leaned forward and went on, “Are you quite sure, Holland, that you didn’t go to Fay’s apartment last night?”
Ken’s heart skipped a beat, then raced. He felt himself change colour. He made a desperate attempt to meet Parker’s eyes, but he couldn’t do it. To hide his fear, he reached for a cigarette; lit it, then said, his voice hoarse and shaky, “I don’t know what you’re driving at, Max. I’ve told you before: I spent the evening here.”
Parker continued to stare at him.
“I think you’re lying,” he said. “Did you go to her apartment?”
“I tell you I didn’t!” Ken cried, starting to his feet.
“Good God!” Parker said, his face turning pale. “When he gave me the description it occurred to me it fitted you. I wondered if you had done it, but I couldn’t believe you had. Now I know you did it!”
Ken felt so frightened he could scarcely breathe.
“They said they were looking for a tall, dark, good-looking man around thirty,” Parker went on, his voice shrill. “He wore a grey suit and a grey hat. They said he owned a shabby green Lincoln.” He got unsteadily to his feet. “Goddamn it! It must be you! You’ve got guilt written all over your face!”
The two men stared at each other, both shaking. Ken frightened; Parker horrified.
“I didn’t do it!” Ken blurted out. “You’ve got to believe me, Max. I swear I didn’t do it!”
“I don’t want to hear anything about it!” Parker said violently. “I don’t know what you’ve been up to, but whatever it is, you’ve got to keep me out of it. Do you understand ? I know I gave you her telephone number, but for God’s sake, don’t tell the police that. You’ve already ruined my home. If it gets out I gave you her phone number, I’ll lose my job as well. I’ll be smeared over every newspaper in the country. You’ve got to keep me out of it!”
“I tell you I didn’t do it!” Ken caught hold of Parker’s arm. “You’ve got to believe me!”
Parker shook him off and backed away.
“It doesn’t matter a damn if I believe you or not. That’s for the police to decide. Sooner or later they’ll catch up with you. They have your description. They’ll find you before long, and when they do, you’ve got to keep quiet about me. Do you understand?”
“Oh, shut up about yourself!” Ken said, suddenly furious. “All you think about is yourself. What about me?”
“This is your mess, not mine!” Parker exclaimed.
“Is it? You are responsible. It was you who kept insinuating I should have a night out. All right, I was a damned fool to listen to your dirty suggestions, and a bigger fool to act on them. But if it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t…” Ken stopped, realizing what he was saying; then, seeing Parker’s horrified expression, he couldn’t contain himself any longer. “Yes, I admit it! I was with her last night! I was in her apartment, but I didn’t kill her! She went into her bedroom and left me in the sitting-room…” “Stop it!” Parker shouted, his face twitching. “You don’t know what you are saying. I won’t listen. You’re trying to make me an accessory by telling me this. I won’t listen I Keep me out of it! That’s all I’m asking. This is your affair. It’s nothing to do with me. All I ask you is not to tell them I gave you her telephone number!”
Ken stared at Parker’s white, twitching face, and he suddenly gained courage from Parker’s fear.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll keep you out of it. But don’t forget you are morally responsible. It was entirely due to you I went to her place. It is you who got me into this mess. Don’t forget it. Now get out!”
Parker needed no encouragement. He hurried into the hall, opened the front door and went down the path at a shambling trot.
Moving to the window, Ken watched him go.
Well, at least he’ll keep his mouth shut, he thought. He’s even more frightened than I am.
But the pressure was on now. He thought with sinking heart of the shape of his future. There was Sweeting to watch out for. There was the blonde to be avoided, and now, every day, he would have to work side by side with Parker who knew he had been with Fay and who believed he had killed her. Sooner or later Ann would be back; then a new nightmare would begin for him.
He stared blindly out of the window, his fears pressing in on him. There seemed no way out, and his new-found courage deserted him.
He did something he hadn’t done since he was a child. He went into his bedroom, and, kneeling down by the bed, he tried to pray.