Denny Merlin hit the north end of Daytona Beach in the late afternoon. He drove the Lincoln Zephyr V-12 slowly past the stadium and the ornamental coquina-rock bandstand. He looked enviously at the crowded beach and wondered if he had time for a swim, but decided that he had better get on and kept the car rolling. At the farther corner of Ocean Avenue he spotted the red triangular sign of a Conoco Service Station. He pulled over and ran up the half circular drive.
Three attendants in smart white uniforms, with red triangular badges on their breast-pockets, came out of the office and began servicing the car. Denny pushed open the door and climbed out stiffly.
“Fill her up,” he said, “and look her over. I’m going over to get somethin’ to eat.”
A short thick-set guy, wearing a foreman’s armlet, came out of the office and said “Good evening.” He looked at the Lincoln with approval and then ran his eye thoughtfully over Denny. This guy was trained to recognize a good client from a bad one. He considered that Denny had a lot of money, was going on vacation, and didn’t care a great deal how much he spent. He was right on every point.
Denny took a cigarette from a heavy gold case and lit it. “Where can I get a decent meal?” he asked.
The foreman pointed across the road. “There you are, sir,” he said. “Chesney’s will give you good food and quick service; you don’t have to look further than that.”
Denny said: “O.K., that’ll do. Have the bus ready for me in half an hour. I’ve still got some way to go.”
“Yes, sir, it’ll be ready. Goin’ to Miami, sir?”
Denny nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. How did you know?”
The foreman grinned. “Oh, I guess they all go to Miami on vacation,” he said. “The traffic’s mighty heavy this time of year. You’ll have to keep going. There’s a hurricane blowing up, and it wouldn’t do to run into that.”
Denny shrugged. “No hurricane’s goin’ to stop me,” he said. “What do I care about a hurricane?”
The foreman grinned again. “Thought I’d tell you, sir,” he said. And thought to himself: “O.K., sucker, if that’s the way you feel. Maybe you’ll change the record when it starts to blow.”
Denny said: “Well, I guess I’ll go on over and have somethin’ to eat. I’ll be right back.”
The foreman watched him cross the road and disappear behind the discreetly curtained doors of Chesney’s, then he wandered over to the Lincoln and glanced inside. “Nice wagon,” he said to one of the attendants who was cleaning the windscreen. “I guess that guy’s got a heap of jack.”
The attendant spat on the sidewalk. “I bet he tips in dimes,” he said bitterly. “The bigger the car the smaller the tip. I know these guys.”
The foreman agreed. He was watching two girls who had been standing under a shop canopy for some time, just opposite the station. They had stood in the shade for over half an hour watching the cars come in and pull out. He had noticed that they had been intently interested in Denny Merlin when he went into Chesney’s and now they were talking to each other very seriously. They were an odd couple. The little one was a honey, the foreman thought. She was beautifully curved and blonde. She wore a thin red sweater which revealed her figure, and a short, pleated yellow skirt. Her well-shaped legs were bare and her feet were shod in yellow sandals. She was bare-headed and her face was tanned by the sun and wind. Her companion was a good six inches taller. She also was fair, but she had no feminine charms. In fact, she was almost mannish in her dress and appearance. She wore a pair of shabby yellow-white trousers and a black polo sweater. Her hair was cut short, like a man’s, and her complexion was almost mahogany.
As he watched them, they suddenly made up their minds and crossed the road, coming towards him. He moved away from the Lincoln, looking at the smaller of the two with an appreciative eye.
The tall girl walked right up to him and said, “Like to do something for two deserving girls?”
The foreman eyed her thoughtfully. She puzzled him. He couldn’t place her at all. She had very hard green eyes, and her mouth was thin and cruel. Now that she was close to him, he was a little startled to see how broad and muscular she was. It irritated him that he had to look up at her. So, he said rather abruptly, “What do you want?”
She smiled. Her teeth were big, white and beautiful. He noticed that her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “The Lincoln over there,” she said, “where’s it goin’?”
The foreman looked at the smaller of the two and gave her a wink. She flushed and looked away quickly.
The tall girl said: “Never mind that stuff for the moment. Where’s the guy goin’?”
“Miami—lookin’ for a lift?” The foreman continued to ogle the small girl.
“Yeah. Can you fix it for us?”
The foreman shook his head. “Why should I?” he asked, shifting his feet a little. “We don’t do that sort of thing on a station like this.”
The tall girl turned to her companion. “Let me talk to him, Stella,” she said. “Move out of the way.”
The girl called Stella hesitated, then walked away a few paces and stood watching the other two with fixed intentness.
The tall girl moved a little closer to the foreman. “Nice, isn’t she?” she said. “She’s shy, but she could go for a guy like you in a big way.”
The foreman took a step back. “Yeah?” he said. “What of it?”
“We want that ride, playboy. I guess Stella would do her stuff if you fixed it for us.” The tall girl smiled with her mouth again. “How about it?”
The foreman shook his head. “Once you’re in the car, I’m left holding the can—nothin’ doin’.”
The tall girl shifted a little impatiently. “Got anywhere where you can take her?” she said softly. “You can’t give her the works, there ain’t time for that. But you can play around. Will that satisfy you?”
The foreman began to sweat. “Nice sortta bitch, ain’t you?” he said, looking over at Stella and licking his dry lips. “She wouldn’t stand for it.”
“Of course, she would,” the other said sharply. “Come on, for God’s sake. Haven’t you anywhere where you can take her?”
He looked uneasily over his shoulder. “Why, yes, I guess so. She could come into the office.”
“Well, go on then. I’ll send her to you. Work fast, and fix that ride, playboy, or I’ll start somethin’ for you.”
The foreman hesitated, then turned on his heel and walked over to the office. He glanced back at the two girls. The tall one was talking very fast. Every now and then she would emphasize a point with her hand, cleaving the air. Stella suddenly left her and walked rapidly towards the office, and the foreman stepped inside and waited for her.
The tall girl sat down on the low wall that surrounded the station and lit a cigarette. She smoked slowly, her eyes intent on the restaurant across the road. She didn’t once look towards the station office.
About ten minutes later she saw Denny signal the waiter for his bill and she got to her feet. She walked over to the office and pushed open the door. The attendants were watching this little scene with puzzled grins, but she took no notice of them. She stepped into the office, but couldn’t see anyone there. She called, “Come on, you two, he’s on his way.”
She waited a minute, her eyes searching the room impatiently, then called again. The foreman came through a door at the rear of the office. He was breathing heavily, and she could see the blood-congested veins on his neck. She smiled at him very contemptuously. “Go out an’ fix that ride, Mr. Sheik,” she said. “An’ fix it good.”
He went past her without a word, and she went to look into the room beyond. “Never mind about those,” she said impatiently. “Take them off and leave them here. We’re about to pull out. For God’s sake, don’t cry or you’ll spoil everything.” She turned back to the office again, her face angry and her eyes viciously cold.
Denny Merlin walked over to his car and nodded his satisfaction. The boys had certainly made a good job of it. He felt satisfied and good after his meal. He tossed a big leather and silver flask full of Scotch on to the front seat. He looked at the foreman and winked. “Got to have a little help on the way,” he said. “What do I owe you?”
The foreman told him and Denny paid, giving him a five-dollar bill. “Split the change amongst the boys. I guess they’ve done a nice job.”
The foreman licked his lips and said awkwardly: “There are a couple of dames in my office looking for a lift as far as Miami. Nice kids. Do you feel like giving them a hand?”
Denny looked at him, startled. “I guess not,” he said abruptly; “no riders in this car. I don’t want a couple of dames hanging around. What should I do with two of them?”
“Sure, I just asked, sir,” the foreman said. “If they hadn’t been something special I wouldn’t have mentioned it. Maybe you’d like to see ’em first?”
Denny got into the car. He thought the foreman had got a hell of a crust. “No, I’m sorry, but I don’t take riders,” he said firmly.
Stella came out of the office as he slammed the car door shut. She came down the concrete path into the sunshine.
The foreman said very quickly: “That’s one of them. Nice little thing, ain’t she?”
Denny looked over casually and then leant forward. He wasn’t expecting anything as good as Stella. He hesitated, and the foreman, seeing him wavering, said: “Tough on those girls. They seem pretty anxious to get to Miami. It’d be a long walk for them.”
Stella came timidly towards the Lincoln. Her eyes looked appealingly into Denny’s. He put his hand to his tie and then opened the door. “You the little girl who’s looking for a ride?” he asked, sliding out of the car again.
Stella looked up at him. “We want to get to Miami,” she said. “We won’t be a nuisance, honest.”
The foreman noticed that the tall girl had kept out of sight. He grinned evilly. She was fly, that one, he thought.
Denny nodded. “Sure, I shall be glad to give you a lift.” He looked round. “Where’s the other one?” he asked the foreman.
The tall girl had been waiting her cue. She came out of the office and walked with long strides to the car.
Denny stared at her, his face falling a trifle. He didn’t quite like the look of her. “You the other one?” he asked, raising his hat awkwardly.
The tall girl smiled with her mouth. “Thank you,” she said. “May I introduce my friend here and myself. This is Stella Fabian and I’m Gerda Tamavich.”
Denny would have preferred to have left her behind, but he had committed himself, so he just smiled and said: “Well, that’s fine. I’m Denny Merlin from New York. If you’re all set, let’s go.”
Gerda glanced at Stella and opened the front door of the car. “You sit with Mr. Merlin. I’ll sit at the back.” She revealed her teeth as she turned to Denny. “I like plenty of room. My legs are a little long.”
This arrangement suited Denny all right. He helped Stella into the car and climbed in beside her. Gerda got in the back.
The foreman touched his peaked cap, but none of them looked at him. Denny felt that he had been impertinent, and the other two hated him. Denny rolled the Lincoln slowly out of the station drive into Ocean Avenue and headed down Broadwalk.
At the cross-roads a traffic cop signalled him to stop. “What the hell does he want?” Denny asked, as the cop moved over to him.
The two girls sat very stiffly in the car, watching the cop. Gerda took out a handkerchief and held it near her face.
The cop saluted Denny with a friendly smirk. “Goin’ to Miami, sir?” he asked, putting a large foot on the running-board.
Denny nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Can’t I?”
“At your risk,” the cop returned. “Sorry to stop you, but we’re warning all traffic. Hurricane’s on the way an’ it’s likely to catch you up around Fort Pierce.”
Denny nodded. “I know,” he said, “the Conoco people told me. I’m going to get as far as I can. I’ll stop at Fort Pierce if it looks tough.”
The cop saluted. “O.K., sir, just as long as you know.” He took his foot off the running-board and waved them on.
Denny scowled into the small driving mirror. “They’re making a hell of a fuss about a storm,” he said. “It’s got to be mighty bad to stop me.”
Gerda leant forward. “You’re a stranger to Florida, ain’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah, what makes you ask?”
“It sticks out a yard. Folks who live around this district take these hurricanes seriously.”
Denny was bored with this talk about hurricanes. The sun was still very hot and strong and there was only a mild breeze coming from the coast. There was not a sign of a rain cloud anywhere. He glanced down at Stella, who sat away from him in the corner of the seat. From that angle he could see her firm beautiful curves and he wished that Gerda wasn’t with them. He said, “You don’t worry about hurricanes, do you?”
Stella glanced at him and shook her head. “I guess not,” she said. “I’ve seen a good few, and they don’t really amount to anything.”
Denny liked her voice. “What are you two girls, anyway?” he asked. “What’s the idea of hitch-hiking?”
Gerda took charge of the conversation. “We’re looking for a job,” she said, almost in his ear. Her voice was low and flat. “Daytona Beach bored us, so we thought we’d go on to Miami. I guess we’ll find something there.”
Denny turned into the old Dixey Highway that led to Port Orange. He trod on the gas, sending the Lincoln forward with a sudden push. “Well, what do you do?” he wanted to know, looking with interest at Stella’s nicely rounded knees.
“Who we can,” Gerda said, with a harsh little laugh. “Don’t we, Stella?”
Stella didn’t say anything.
“I see. That sounds sort of bad,” Denny said, wondering what she meant. “I’m in real estate myself. I was wondering if either of you could shorthand or something. I might be able to get you fixed up.”
Gerda laughed again. Denny frowned. He didn’t like her hissing little laugh so close to his ear. “Don’t do that,” he said sharply. “What’s funny about it?”
“Nothin’,” she said quickly, “we think you’re swell to offer, don’t we, Stella?”
Stella said after a pause: “You see, we do a song an’ dance act. I guess office routine is way up the wrong street.”
Denny grunted. “Sure,” he said, “I understand that. If you’re an act, you don’t want any sort of job. What makes you think Miami’ll take to you?”
“Oh, we don’t know,” Gerda said, “we just hopin’. When you’ve pushed around as we have, hope is about the one thing that gets you anywhere, and nice-looking Stella.” She laughed again.
Denny watched her in the driving mirror. “So Stella helps too, does she?” he said for something to say.
“Sure, it’s her capital to look nice,” Gerda said with a tiny sneer in her voice.
“And what do you do?” Denny said curiously.
“Me? I guess I run the outfit. We’ve got along all right so far, haven’t we, Stella?”
Stella didn’t say anything. She shifted uncomfortably and her short skirt rode up a few inches. Denny could see a long expanse of bare thigh and he pursed his lips. If it wasn’t for Gerda in the back, he could go for this honey in a big way he told himself.
They swept through Port Orange and on to the U.S. Highway 1. They were now in the heart of the East Coast citrus country and the road curved across lowland meadows, pink with rose mallow. The mandarin trees were heavy with fruit. Denny thought it was all very beautiful.
“This part of the country does things to me,” he said. “Don’t you think it’s swell?”
Stella said: “You don’t think of the ugly things in life after this, do you?” She spoke very tensely, as if she meant every word.
Denny glanced at her curiously. He wondered what sort of a life she had been leading. She didn’t look like a little tramp. He shook his head, giving up.
They stopped at New Smyrna for petrol. Evening was drawing on rapidly and the sun, wrapped in a yellowish haze, was sinking behind the skyline. Denny got out of the car to stretch his legs and the two girls followed his example. Up the road they could see a long line of trucks moving slowly towards them, crowded with farm hands and bedding.
Denny asked the mechanic who was operating the gasoline pump what it was all about.
The man shrugged. “Oh, I guess they’re coming in because of the hurricane,” he said indifferently. “The radio says it’ll hit us before long.”
Denny felt a sudden wave of apprehension. “Listen, I’m goin’ through to Miami tonight. This hurricane won’t stop me, will it?”
The man screwed the cap on the gas tank and hung up his pump hose. “That depends on you, mister,” he said. “Two bucks, please.”
Denny paid him and walked over to the edge of the road, where the two girls were watching the trucks pass. “Think we ought to go on?” he asked. “These people are coming in from outlying farms because of the hurricane.”
Gerda said very decisively: “A little rain and wind wouldn’t stop me. It’s your car, you can please yourself what you do.”
“Well, let’s get on then,” Denny said, turning to the car.
“You wouldn’t like to stake us to a meal, would you, Mr. Merlin?” Gerda asked, smiling with her mouth.
Denny looked at her. “Say, what is this?” he asked. “Are you two flat broke, or something?”
Gerda moved over to the car. “Think no more about it, Mr. Merlin. Forget I ever spoke.”
Denny turned to Stella. “You tell me. I can talk to you.”
Stella hesitated and then nodded. “I guess we’re tight for money just now,” she said awkwardly. “But we ain’t really hungry. Please don’t—”
Denny said, “Wait for me,” and walked over to a coffee-shop. He came back with two paper bags and dumped them down on the seat. “There you are,” he said, “that ought to hold you until we get to Fort Pierce. We’ll have a decent meal then. Let’s get on before we waste any more time.”
He drove out of New Smyrna in silence. The two girls ate the chicken sandwiches silently and ferociously. Gerda said, “Is that Scotch you’ve got there?”
Denny handed the flask over his shoulder without a word. He was beginning to understand why Gerda looked after the outfit, as she called it. She wasn’t slow in getting what she wanted.
They drove along the Indian River. It was just dusk enough to see the luminous water, ruffled by an increasing wind. Every now and then faint flames seemed to be flickering along the top of the water. The scene so enchanted Denny that he forgot to be annoyed any more, and slowed down so that he could concentrate. Overhead a flight of herons passed, looking dark against the evening sky. Woodpeckers still continued to plunge from the telephone wires like rockets after minnows.
“This is a grand country,” Denny said to Stella. “I’m mighty glad I decided to come here for my vacation.”
“Why are you alone?” she asked. “Haven’t you got a wife or a girl friend?”
Denny shook his head. “I guess not,” he said. “I’ve been too busy making money. Believe it or not, this is the first real holiday I’ve had in ten years.”
Gerda said softly in his ear, “Have you made a lot of money?”
Denny grinned. “Oh, I guess so. Enough to get by.”
“What do you call big money?” she persisted. “Ten grand, twenty grand, fifty grand—how much?”
“Five hundred thousand,” Denny said, half to himself. “Believe me, it’s nice to feel you’ve made that little lot just by yourself.”
Gerda drew a deep breath. The amount left her speechless. They drove in silence for some minutes, then she said: “I guess you can do what you like with all that money.”
Denny nodded. “It certainly helps,” he said lightly.
They were running through a road bordered by Australian pine windbreaks which swayed in the increasing wind.
Stella said suddenly: “Look, the wind is rising. Do you see the trees? It is getting rough.”
“Well, we’ll be all right in this bus,” Denny said confidently. “This old hearse doesn’t leak; it can blow and rain as much as it likes.”
The sun had given place to a big moon. It was almost dark now and Denny switched on his head-lamps. “I like driving in the dark,” he said, “especially in this country. Look at the river now. It looks as if it were on fire.”
The wind had whipped the water into large waves which flickered like tongues of flame. Overhead small clouds began to race across the moonlit sky, joining up with each other rapidly. They were dark clouds that fled before the wind, gradually building up a barrier between the earth and the moon.
“This looks like it,” Denny said as the landscape began to fade into darkness. “I guess if it gets too bad we’ll have to put up at Fort Pierce.” A thought suddenly struck him. “Haven’t you girls got any luggage?”
Gerda said, “No.”
There was a long silence and then Denny said, “You two seem to be having a bad time.” He felt uncomfortable, as most very wealthy people do when they run into real poverty. He began to wish he hadn’t given them a ride. He supposed that they were going to be a damn nuisance before he had seen the last of them.
Gerda said, casually: “Oh, we’ve been in the same sort of spot before. We’ll get by.”
Fine rain appeared on the windscreen and the darkness came down like a shutter. The two brilliant pools of light from the head-lamps lit the road, making the grapefruit trees and the lemon trees look grotesque as they flashed by them.
Above the soft note of the Lincoln engine they could hear the moan of the wind, and out to sea came the thundery roar of the rollers smashing themselves to foam on the beach.
A vivid and jagged flash of lightning lit the sky and the first clap of thunder startled them. The rain began to fall in earnest and Denny switched on the rain-wipers. He drove slowly, as he found it difficult to see through the windscreen.
“I hope it’s not going to get worse than this,” he said suddenly.
“Oh, it will,” Stella told him. “This is just the beginning. The wind hasn’t reached its height yet.”
As she spoke the wind suddenly increased, making a shrill, whistling noise. Denny felt the car shudder against it, nearly coming to a halt. He fed the engine more gas and the speedometer needle crawled up to twenty miles an hour.
“I guess we’d better get under cover,” he said. “I wish now that we had stayed at New Smyrna for the night. Keep a look-out for a house, will you? I don’t care to drive much further in this.”
“Oh, let’s go on,” Gerda said quickly. “Fort Pierce is only about twenty miles from here.”
Denny grunted. The lightning was beginning to worry him. It leapt about the dark sky, lighting the trees which swayed almost to the ground from the blast of the wind. The Lincoln was crawling now, although he kept his foot hard on the accelerator. He reckoned the wind must be blowing at well over a hundred miles an hour.
The rain drummed on the top of the car, blotting out the noise of the thunder, and the wind had risen to a shrieking howl.
Over to the left he thought he saw a building in the flash of brilliant lightning and his head-lights picked out a narrow road that turned off abruptly from the highway. He didn’t hesitate, but swung the car into it. The wind caught them broadside and he felt the off wheels lift a little.
“There’s a house here,” he said. “We’ll take shelter. This is beyond a joke.”
He drove as close to the building as possible, and then stopped the car.
“Be careful how you get out,” Stella said anxiously, “or you’ll get blown away.”
Denny thought that was most likely, and opened the car door gingerly. He slid out, keeping his body hunched. The wind and rain struck him solidly, and if he hadn’t been holding on to the car door he would have gone over. He steadied himself, feeling the rain driving through his clothes as if they were paper, then, keeping low, he began a desperate struggle to the house. He had only to walk a few yards, but by the time he had reached the shelter of the house he was nearly exhausted.
He could see that all the windows were boarded up, and he hammered on the front door. Fortunately, he was on the lee side and he could remain there without being battered. No one answered his knocking. Finally he lost patience and, taking a step back, aimed a violent kick at the lock. The door creaked, and a second kick sent it flying open. He stepped inside, peering into the darkness. He called loudly once or twice, but his voice hardly sounded in his own ears above the roar of the rain and wind.
Taking his cigarette-lighter from his pocket, he made a tiny flame and finding an electric-light switch near his hand, he turned on the light. He found himself in a well-furnished lounge with three rooms leading off. A quick examination of the house proved that it was empty. The owners had most likely, he thought, gone to Fort Pierce, away from the hurricane. Anyway, the place was well furnished and comfortable. The next step was to get the two girls inside.
He again stepped into the hurricane and fought his way back to the car. He tried to shout to them that it was all right, but the wind blew his words down his throat, leaving him gasping. He pointed to the house and took hold of Stella’s arm. She hesitated for a moment, then slid out of the car. It took quite a time to get her into the shelter of the lounge. Twice they lost their balance and sprawled into a big pool of rain water, and by the time they got inside both of them were soaked and plastered with mud.
Even at that moment Denny felt his blood quicken a trifle when he saw Stella in the light. Her jersey and skirt clung to her figure, revealing every line. The superb sweep of her hips down to her feet and the curve of her firm full breasts enchanted him. He said, “You look cute like that.”
She turned her head. “Oh, don’t look at me,” she said. “Please go and help Gerda.”
He laughed a little nervously and turned away from her. Gerda stood in the doorway watching them. The wet jersey on her big figure made her look even more mannish than she actually was.
She said: “I’ve locked up the car. The rain isn’t getting in. I think it will be all right to leave.”
Denny shrugged. “It’ll have to be,” he said. “I’ve had enough of that wind for tonight. My God! I’m wet through. Maybe I’d better get a suitcase in.”
Gerda went to the door. “You’ll need some help,” she said, and together they battled their way once more to the car. Denny was a little piqued to see that Gerda managed the wind much better than he did. In fact, once she came to his aid and shoved him forward. He was equally astonished at her strength. Together they brought the suit-case back and closed the door on the storm.
“You’re hellish strong,” Denny gasped, wrenching off his sodden collar. “Quite a Samson.”
Gerda didn’t say anything. She disappeared into the kitchen.
Denny wandered into the lounge, where Stella was standing shivering before an empty grate. She held her wet skirt away from her body as he came in.
“Have a nip of this,” Denny said, producing his flask, “otherwise you’ll catch a cold.” He was feeling shivery himself.
They both had a long pull from the flask and immediately felt better for it.
“You ought to get out of those things,” Denny then said with a grin, “although they suit you like that.”
Stella flushed hotly. “You’re making me feel awfully uncomfortable, Mr. Merlin,” she said. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
Denny took another pull from his flask. “Well, I guess I don’t want to do that,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have such a nice little figure.”
Gerda came in with some paper and wood. “Get those things off, Stella,” she said, “the bathroom’s down the passage. There’s an electric geyser and I’ve turned it on. I’ve found a wrap for you. Hurry up.”
Stella went away and Gerda knelt down before the fire. In a few minutes she had a roaring fire going.
Denny looked at her admiringly. “I can see why you’re the boss of the outfit now,” he said. “Are you always as efficient as this?”
Gerda looked over her shoulder at him with her hard green eyes. “I have to be,” she said. “You aren’t a great help, are you?”
Denny scowled. “You didn’t give me much time,” he retorted.
She got to her feet. “Don’t let’s fight,” she said. “Suppose you change too. I’ve had a look in the pantry. There’s some food there. I guess we can make ourselves quite at home.”
Denny scratched his head. “Bit rough on the owners,” he observed.
“I see you haven’t my philosophy,” Gerda returned, moving across the room to the door. “Still, you have plenty of money, haven’t you? Leave them something. That’s what money is for, isn’t it?”
Denny undressed quickly after she had gone, and gave himself a brisk rub down with a towel. He couldn’t help thinking how much more pleasant it would have been to be in this house with Stella alone. He dressed in a pair of flannel trousers and heavy sweater over a white silk shirt and took his wet clothes into the kitchen.
Gerda, dressed in a dark red dressing-gown, her long slender feet in a pair of Turkish slippers, was preparing a meal. On the table close at hand stood a large cocktail-shaker and three glasses.
Denny picked the shaker up and sniffed at it. “Gin and du Bonnet,” he said. “Hell! This is going to be quite a party.”
Gerda said, “You like Stella, don’t you?” She said it very casually, without looking at him.
Denny paused, his hand hovering over one of the glasses he was about to pick up. “What do you mean?” he asked sharply.
“What I say,” Gerda went on, turning a thick slice of ham on the grille. “I know what you’ve been thinking. You’d like to sleep with her, wouldn’t you?”
Denny controlled himself with an effort. He poured out the cocktails and then came over and put one of them close beside her. “I’m not used to that sort of talk,” he said quietly. “I suppose it is pretty general where you come from?”
Gerda sipped her drink. “That still doesn’t answer my question,” she said, suddenly looking at him. “You would like her in bed, wouldn’t you, Mr. Merlin?”
Denny finished his drink and poured out another one. “I’m certainly not going to discuss a subject like that with you,” he said abruptly. “After all, you’re the third party, and as such you have no business at all to suggest such a thing.”
Gerda put her drink down and went to fetch eggs from the pantry. When she came back she said: “In a way, I suppose I’m unfortunate. I think along the same lines as a man. I noticed your eyes when Stella was showing off her body. It rather gave you away. Not that I blame you in the slightest. I’m sure I’d feel exactly the same in your place.”
Denny said acidly, “Don’t you?”
“You mean am I one of those?” She shook her head. “Oh no. I might have been if I let myself go, of course, but I saw what an awful mess it would get me in. Stella is very much in love with me, but I don’t do anything about it.”
Denny lit a cigarette. “You know, you’re rather an unpleasant person,” he said. “I’m damn sorry I ever had anything to do with you.”
Gerda smiled. “Suppose we stop fooling around like this. You want Stella. I know you do. You are wishing I wasn’t here so that you could be alone with her. You have a lot of money. I haven’t any. I want money. I don’t make any bones about it. I must have it. Tell me, Mr. Merlin, how much would you pay to have Stella alone for tonight?”
Denny took a step towards her. His face had gone suddenly white. “Shut your beastly mouth, you bitch!” he said, “I’ve taken all I’m going to from you. So shut up, do you understand?”
She stood very still, looking at him, then her mouth smiled. “Does that mean you’ll think it over?” she asked, putting two eggs and the ham on a plate and putting it into his hand. “But eat this. I’ll go and hurry Stella. I should like a bath too.”
She left him standing staring after her with an angry, puzzled expression on his face.
Stella was still in the bath when Gerda came in. She looked up and smiled. “Am I keeping you waiting, darling?” she asked, cupping her breasts in her hands and lying back on her elbows.
Gerda looked at her beautiful white figure and sat on the edge of the bath. “No,” she said, “take your time. I want to talk to you.”
Stella’s face clouded. “What do you want now?” She laid stress on the word now.
“What do you think I want?” Gerda said, her hard eyes suddenly brightening. “There’s five hundred thousand dollars outside wolfing ham and eggs. I want a little of him.”
Stella swirled the water with her legs. She didn’t say anything.
“Go out and start on him. He’s really soft on you so he’ll treat you right. Leave it to me to get the dough out of him.”
Stella shook her head. “No,” she said, biting her lip. “No—no—no!”
“You can do it. It would be easy. I’ll go to bed and then you go to him. Tell him you’re frightened by the wind. Play up to him. Give him the works. He’s only waiting for you to start. Then I’ll come in and you can go to bed. You don’t have to go far with him—just enough to get him going”.”
Stella said “No” again.
“Think what it will mean. I could knock him down for a grand. Think what that would mean. You and I could go to the best hotel in Miami. We could buy clothes and we could eat what we wanted.”
Stella put her hands to her face. “And when the money was finished you would find someone else to sell me to. Like you did in Daytona Beach, like you did in Brooklyn, in New Jersey. No—no—no!”
Gerda got slowly to her feet. “You are the only capital we have,” she said. “You wanted to come with me, didn’t you? I didn’t ask you to, did I? Do you think I should have any difficulty in getting along by myself? How do you think I’ve managed before? I’m not afraid of work. I’m strong, not like you. You wanted to be with me—how do you think we can live unless you help? Do you think I’d mind what I did to make you happy? If men wanted me and would pay for me, do you think I should care? Can’t you get outside your body and forget that it is you? Use it to get us somewhere, use it as a singer uses his voice.”
Stella climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel round her. She shivered a little. “How long have I got to do this?” she asked. “Don’t you love me any more? Doesn’t it mean anything to you that I’m used like this?”
Gerda went to her, her eyes half closed, knowing that she had got her way, and therefore willing to be kind.
Denny had finished his meal when Stella came out in a light-blue wrap, which suited her. He was mixing some more cocktails, having drunk six in a row, and he felt a lot better tempered. In fact, he greeted Stella with a grin as she came in.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked. “You’re looking grand. Have a gin and du Bonnet. Can you cook yourself a meal? I wish I could, but I’ve never learnt how.”
Stella took a cocktail and began preparing supper. “Don’t you want a bath, Mr. Merlin?” she asked.
Denny shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I guess I’ve been having a few drinks instead.”
She turned on the grill and stood waiting for it to heat up. With her back turned to him, she loosened her wrap, then pulled it closely round her as if to avoid spotting the material from the hissing fat.
Denny could see the slim outline of her figure, the soft curve of her buttocks, and he suddenly wanted her very badly. He turned away and took another drink. “Where’s your unpleasant friend?” he asked abruptly.
Stella stiffened. “Gerda?” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. “What do you mean—unpleasant?”
Denny shrugged. “Forget it,” he said; “I was forgetting she was a friend of yours.”
“Gerda’s in the bath. She won’t be out for ages. She loves to soak. She told me that she’d get her own supper. Odd way we’re eating. We ought to have all sat down together.”
“How old are you?” Denny asked, leaning against the stove, so that he could watch her face. “Right now, you look like a lovely little girl.”
Stella blushed. “Oh, I’m nineteen,” she said. “I’ll be twenty at the end of the month.”
“Isn’t it a pity that you’re living this sort of life? I mean, haven’t you any parents to look after you?”
Stella broke an egg into the pan. “No,” she said, “I guess not. I get along, really, Mr. Merlin, only just now we’re in a jam. We had some bad luck and the landlady took our bags in payment—you know.” She broke off and gave a little sniff.
Denny came a little closer. “This girl, Gerda. I don’t think she’s a suitable companion for you. Tell me, don’t you get into trouble sometimes because of her?”
Stella looked at him, trying hard to force anger out of her eyes. “Gerda has been very wonderful to me,” she said.
Denny shrugged and turned away. He couldn’t make this business out. Stella didn’t look like a tramp, he kept telling himself. She wasn’t that type at all, he could swear to it, yet why did Gerda make that suggestion? Why was she so sure that Stella would agree? Could it be that Stella liked him? By now the cocktails had made him a little drunk and he was very sure of himself. It would be rather a joke if Stella went for him in a big way and Gerda was left holding the can.
He followed Stella into the dining-room and sat opposite her while she ate her supper. Outside, the wind and rain lashed the walls of the house, making it shudder and forcing them to shout a little when they talked. He insisted on taking her plate away when she had finished, and came back with the cocktail-shaker full again. Stella was sitting on a big settee near the fire. Her wrap had fallen open, showing her neat bare legs. As soon as he came in, she hastily adjusted the wrap, but he had seen all right.
He felt the blood mounting to his head and he came over and sat beside her.
She said, “Do you like being rich?”
He was a little startled. “Why, sure,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“You know, money means so much to some people. To me, it doesn’t mean anything at all. Once I saw a man with a hundred-dollar bill. I had never seen a bill like that before. He was awfully pleased with himself.”
Denny laughed. He put his hand behind him and pulled out a big wallet from his hip pocket. “Ever seen a thousand-dollar bill?” he asked, opening his case. “And I don’t look so pleased with myself, do I?”
He opened the wallet and took out a fat packet of currency. He had eight one thousand-dollar bills and a number of hundred-dollar bills. Stella went very white. “Oh,” she said, “put it away. Don’t let—”
Gerda said softly from behind them: “It’s there. Enough money to live on for months. To go down Lincoln Road and buy what you want. To go to Dache’s or Miller’s. To eat at Allen’s. Miami would kneel to us.”
Denny spun round, snapping the wallet shut. “Where the hell did you come from?” he asked.
Gerda stood looking at him, her green eyes like bits of glass, without expression, shiny and hard. “You are a very fortunate man, Mr. Merlin,” she said. “I am going to bed now. Perhaps by tomorrow the storm will be over. We shall go our different ways soon afterwards. I don’t think I shall ever forget you.” She went to the door and then turned. “I should come too, Stella,” she said. “Mr. Merlin will want to sleep. Good night,” and she went out, shutting the door behind her.
Denny looked at Stella. “What did she mean—never forget me?”
Stella was still looking very pale. “I don’t know,” she said: “I wish I did.”
There was silence but for the howl of the wind, then Denny forced a laugh. “She’s gone to bed, anyway. Will you have another drink?”
Stella shook her head, and made as if to rise to her feet, but Denny stopped her. “Don’t go,” he said. “You know, I was hoping that we should be left alone. I want to talk to you. I want to hear your voice. Look, let’s be comfortable.” He got up and switched out the light. The room was lit only by the fire. He came and sat down close to her. “Isn’t that rather nice?” he asked, putting a glass into her hand. “Come on, drink up. After all, the evening is still very young and we might be here for days. We ought to get to know each other.”
Stella put the glass down on the table beside her. “I must go,” she said. “Really, Mr. Merlin, I can’t stay with you. It’s—it’s not right.”
“Can’t you call me Denny? Isn’t this rather thrilling to meet as we have and to be sheltering from a hurricane in someone else’s house, before a fire, like this? Listen, Stella, it is like a fairy tale. It can’t be treated like any other day.”
“Oh, I know, Denny, but I shouldn’t really be here. Gerda will be wondering—”
He slid his arm along the back of the settee behind her head and leant over her. “Do you mind what Gerda’s thinking?” he asked. “Can’t you let time stand still for an hour? Let me tell you that I love you. That you are the most lovely thing in this ugly world. You make this hurricane seem thin and pale beside your beauty. Look at me, Stella, can’t we go into fairyland together just for an hour? Can’t we forget that you are you and I am I? Won’t you leave this world and come with me?” He drew her towards him, and pale, almost fainting with fear, Stella relaxed against him.
Denny touched her lips with his and then, as he felt them yield to him, he caught her to him urgently. He was deaf to the storm raging outside and blind to reason. Stella affected him like no other woman had ever affected him. He slid his hand into her open wrap and eased it off her shoulders.
In the firelight he could see her whiteness and he drew her down on the settee, pushing her back so that he was leaning right over her. He lowered his face against the coolness of her breasts and he groaned softly with the ecstasy of the moment.
Gerda, coming into the room like a dark shadow, stole up behind them. The firelight reflected in her fixed staring eyes, and Stella, looking over Denny’s shoulder, bit back a scream of fear as she saw Gerda’s hand suddenly sweep up, holding something that glittered.
Stella tried to push Denny away, but already the glittering thing was coming down swiftly and Denny relaxed limply on her with a choking cough. With a wild scream, Stella pushed him on to the floor and scrambled up.
“What have you done?” she screamed at Gerda. “What have you done?” She stumbled over to the lamp and turned it on.
Gerda was standing over Denny, her face white and hard. She said, without looking at Stella, “Shut up! Don’t make a sound.”
Denny rolled over on his side and struggled up on his elbow. A long, thin-bladed table-knife was driven deeply into his neck. Stella could see the silver handle protruding, and she pressed her hands against her mouth in horror.
Blood began to flow over Denny’s white shirt and run on to the carpet. He touched the handle with his hand as if he couldn’t believe that this had happened to him. He said in a very low, choked voice, “Did you do it?” to Gerda.
Gerda didn’t say anything. She was watching the red ribbon running on to the cream carpet.
“Couldn’t you have left me alone?” Denny said. “My God, I was a fool to have had anything to do with you two. It was the money, I suppose. I didn’t think you were as bad as that. Do you think it will do you any good? Don’t stand there looking at me. Get me a doctor. Do you want me to bleed to death?”
“Yes,” Stella said wildly, “get him a doctor, for God’s sake!”
Gerda just said, “Shut up!” and drew away from Denny with a little grimace of disgust.
“Do you want me to die?” Denny said, panic coming into his eyes. “Help me! Don’t stand staring. Help me, you bitch! Can’t you see I’m bleeding to death?”
Stella threw herself on the settee and began to scream wildly. Outside, the wind continued to roar and the rain drummed on the roof.
Gerda took a quick step forward and struck Stella across her face. Stella fell back, her mouth open, but silent. “I said shut up,” Gerda said harshly. “Do you understand?”
Making a terrific effort, Denny crawled on to his knees and then levered himself upright. He stood holding on to the back of a chair, making a sobbing noise in his throat. “Help me, Stella,” he gasped. “Don’t let me die, Stella—help me.”
He put his hand on the knife and tried to pull it out, but the sudden wave of pain was too much, and he fell on to his knees.
Stella scrambled off the settee and ran out of the room. She came back a moment later with a towel. “Here,” she said frantically to Gerda, “stop him bleeding.”
Gerda snatched the towel from her savagely and went over to Denny. She took hold of the hilt of the knife and jerked it out of the wound. Denny gave a high-pitched cry like the whinnying of a horse. Blood welled out of him in a scarlet stream. He fell forward on his face and clawed at the stained carpet. He writhed for a moment, then relaxed limply. Blood continued to gush from the wound until eventually it ceased.
The two girls stood watching him. Stella, in horror, unable to move or to take her eyes from him, and Gerda hard, inscrutable and cold.
She said: “He’s dead now. You’d better go into the kitchen.”
Stella ran to her. “You mustn’t. I know what you’re going to do. You’re going to take that money. You killed him for it, didn’t you?”
“It’s no use to him now,” Gerda said. “Go into the other room, or I shall be angry with you.”
Stella hid her face in her hands and stumbled out of the room. The noise of the hurricane rose to a terrific crescendo as she slammed the door behind her.
Gerda didn’t hesitate. She stepped round Denny very carefully, avoiding the blood on the carpet, and pulled the wallet from his hip pocket. She took the eight-thousand bills and the rest of the small notes and put the wallet back in his pocket. She stood for a moment looking at the notes, then she closed her fingers over them tightly and heaved a great sigh. At last, she thought, I am free. Nothing matters now. I can live as I want to live. She didn’t think of the dead man for one moment.
She found Stella in the kitchen, sobbing quietly and shivering with shock. She took no notice of her but began to dress in her half-dried clothes. She put the roll of notes in her trouser pocket, pulled on her damp black sweater with a little grimace and then turned her attention to Stella.
“Get dressed at once,” she said. “Stop that snivelling; it won’t get you anywhere.”
Stella took no notice of her, and Gerda, losing patience, jerked her out of her chair and shook her.
“Get dressed, you fool!” she shouted. “Do you hear?”
Stella looked at her blankly and began to wring her hands.
Gerda pulled off her wrap and began pushing her into her clothes. Stella stood quite still, sobbing the whole time like an hysterical child, and let Gerda dress her. When at last she was ready, Gerda shook her again, but she could see that Stella was going to be utterly useless to help her in the work she had to do.
She pushed Stella into the chair again. “Stay here,” she said. “And don’t move until I come for you.”
She went out and opened the front door. The rain still came down heavily, but the wind had dropped somewhat. She ventured out and found that she could walk without much difficulty.
She went back to the house and collected Denny’s clothes. She took them and the suit-case to the car. Then, picking up a large rug from the back seat, she went back to the lounge. She dropped the rug over Denny, rolled him into it and then dragged him out of the house into the pouring rain. She opened the back door of the Lincoln and dragged him into the car. It took her a long time, but eventually she did it.
She was wet through and her clothes stuck to her body, as if they were painted on her. She was feeling completely exhausted after the struggle to get Denny into the car, and she poured herself out a stiff shot of whisky. She felt better for that.
So far so good, she told herself, looking round the disordered room. She dare not leave it like that. There was only one quick way to destroy that sort of evidence. She remembered seeing a spare can of gasoline on the running-board of the Lincoln and she went out and got it. She left the can in the lounge and walked into the kitchen.
Stella was still sitting where she had left her. She had stopped crying, but her limbs continued to shiver and tremble.
“We’re getting out of here,” Gerda said. “Come on, pull yourself together for God’s sake.”
Stella gave a little shudder at the sound of her voice. “Go away,” she said, “I don’t ever want to see you again. Oh, God, whatever shall I do? Look what you’ve got me into.”
Gerda stood very still. “What do you mean?” she said softly. “You’re to blame as much as I.”
Stella sprang to her feet. She looked a little insane. “I knew you’d say that,” she screamed. “But I didn’t kill him. I never wanted to kill him. I didn’t want him to make love to me—you made me! Do you hear? You made me!”
Gerda said: “Pull yourself together. If you want to get away with this you’ve got to use your head and help me.”
“Leave me—go away! He said you were bad, and I didn’t believe him. He warned me against you. Oh, how could you do such a thing?” She buried her head in her arms and began sobbing again wildly.
A sudden expression crossed Gerda’s face, making her look old and ugly. She said: “Don’t you see it was as much for you as for me? We can be rich now, Stella. We won’t have to pinch and scrape any more. You won’t have to lie with any more men. We’ve got all that behind us. Isn’t that worth something?”
“How can you talk like that?” Stella demanded, confronting her. “Does his death mean nothing to you? Are you so hard and callous that you’re not frightened by the awful thing you’ve done?”
Gerda shrugged. “Oh, very well,” she said. “What shall we do? Call the cops?”
Stella beat on the table with her fists. “There’s nothing we can do,” she cried. “We can’t bring him back. You’ve finished us both!”
“I’ve got him in the car,” Gerda said. “We can dump him and the car in the river. It is very deep. He may never be found. Then we can get another ride into Miami. With the money, we’ll be safe and we’ll be happy.”
Stella stopped crying and stared at her. “Is that what you’re going to do?” she said. “What about the house and the bloodstains? Do you think we can get rid of them?”
“I’m going to set fire to the house. They’ll think it’s the lightning.”
Stella went very white. “Then he was right. You are utterly bad. You have no feelings for anything but yourself. Go on, do what you’ve planned. I can’t stop you. But I’m not going with you. I’d rather go on the streets than go with you. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
Gerda looked at her thoughtfully. “But I couldn’t let you do that,” she said reasonably, “you might talk. I’m very fond of you, Stella, but you mustn’t try my patience too much.” Her voice was toneless and her eyes shone strangely.
Stella shook her head. “I shan’t talk,” she said; “you needn’t be afraid of that. I’m going right out of this house and I hope I shall never see you again.”
She had recovered from her hysteria now that she had a fixed purpose, and her one thought was to get as far away from Gerda as possible.
Gerda held out her hand. “Because we have been happy, won’t you shake hands? I know I’ve done wrong, but …” She shook her head. “Oh, what’s the good? Come, Stella, say good-bye and I wish you good luck.”
Stella hesitated and then came back to her. “God help you, Gerda,” she said. “There is no one else who can.”
Two hands reached out and fastened themselves like steel hooks on her throat. “You stupid mouthing little fool,” Gerda said, forcing Stella’s head back. “Do you think I’d trust you? Do you think I’d have a moment’s rest knowing that you were at large to tell the first man who made love to you? What do I care if you aren’t with me any more? There are a hundred girls like you to share my eight thousand dollars. You can go with Denny. Do you hear? You can go with him.”
She had forced Stella on the floor and was kneeling over her. Stella struggled wildly, but she had no strength to get free. Gerda held her vice-like grip, one of her knees pressing against Stella’s chest, holding her flat.
Because she hadn’t got a proper hold, it took her a long time to kill Stella, but at last Gerda got to her feet, flexing her aching fingers. She felt a little wave of pity surge up in her when she looked down at Stella, but only for a moment. The wind had ceased to howl and every moment was precious.
She picked the dead girl up in her arms and almost ran out to the car. She dumped her in on top of Denny and slammed the door shut, then she ran back to the house. A few minutes were enough to splash the rooms with the gasoline, and when she came out smoke began drifting through the window-shutters. She drove the car to the end of the road and then looked back. The house was burning fiercely. Long flames were licking through the roof and a column of black smoke drifted in the wind towards her. She was satisfied that the place would be completely gutted in a very short time, and she drove on to the highway.
The rain still fell, but the wind had died down. Far away she could see the lights of Fort Pierce. She thought even if the worst came to the worst, she could walk there.
The Indian River glowed in the darkness as she drove the car, and finally selecting the most favourable spot she turned the car so that it faced the river. She got out and looked up and down the long straight highway, but she could see no signs of an approaching car. She didn’t once look in the back of the Lincoln and, as she adjusted the hand throttle, she felt herself shivering. She stood on the running-board and adjusted the gear, then, as the car began to bump forward, she dropped off and stood watching.
The car seemed to hesitate just as it reached the steep bank, then went crashing over into the leaping, flaming river. She ran forward and could see it plunging down, leaving behind it a great sheet of flame. It looked to her that it had gone into a furious furnace rather than the river, and she took two steps back with a feeling that it had gone for ever.
It was almost an hour later when she heard a truck coming along the road. She had been walking steadily for that time and she was feeling cold and nervy. The rain had stopped, but her clothes were still wet, clinging to her as she moved. She stood in the middle of the road and waved as the truck rattled towards her. It pulled up with a squeal of brakes and she ran up to it.
A dim outline of a man leant down from the cab and peered at her.
“Fort Pierce?” she asked, trying to see what he looked like. “Can you give me a lift?”
He pushed open the off door of the cab. “Sure,” he said, “come on up.”
She climbed in beside him and he started the cab rolling. He was very big and the shadowy outline of his face gave him the appearance of an ape. He, too, was regarding her under the broken peak of his cap.
“Where you come from, baby?” he asked in a hoarse, snuffling voice.
“Daytona Beach,” Gerda returned, rubbing her arms and shivering. “Got caught in the hurricane, sheltered for some time and then decided to walk on.”
“Huh,” the man said, spitting out of the cab. “Saw a house on fire way back. I guess it must have been the lightning.”
Gerda didn’t say anything. She was feeling tired and would have liked to have gone to sleep.
“Ain’t you scared being around in a spot like this on your own?” he asked her.
Gerda stiffened. “I don’t scare easily,” she said coldly. “The last guy who tried to get fresh with me is still wondering what hit him.”
“Sorta tough, huh?” the driver said with a hoarse laugh. “Well, I like a dame to be tough.”
“That’s nice for me, isn’t it?” Gerda rejoined sarcastically.
The driver laughed again. “I guess before we go any further I’ll collect your fare,” he said, stopping the truck with a jerk. “Let’s get in the back for a while.”
Gerda shook her head. “Get goin’,” she said sharply. “I don’t wear that sort of thing. I’ll give you a fin when we reach Fort Pierce. That’s all you’ll get.”
The driver screwed round in his seat. “Yeah?” he said, his voice suddenly menacing. “I ain’t used to that sort of yappin’ from a dame. Get into the back of the truck quick, before I get rough. You’re taking what I’m goin’ to give you, an’ you goin’ to like it.”
Gerda opened the door. “If that’s the way you feel about it,” she said, her eyes hard and calculating. She slid into the road. The moment her feet touched the wet tarmac she made a dart towards the thick citrus groves. Before she reached them a terrific jar struck her just above her knees and she went down in a heap. Her breath was knocked out of her body, and for several she minutes was powerless to move. She felt herself being picked up, carried a few steps and then banged down again.
“How do you like that?” the driver asked, kneeling over her.
She realized that she was in the back of the truck and she lay very still, waiting to recover her breath.
“Now, baby, do you play or must I rough you around until you do?” the driver asked.
Gerda said breathlessly: “O.K., you big caveman, let me get up an’ fix myself.”
The driver moved away from her with his back to the entrance of the truck, so that she couldn’t pass him. “Not so tough, huh?” he said. “I tell you, baby, I’ve gotta way with dames.”
Gerda got slowly to her feet. Her body ached from her fall. She poised herself, and then with all her strength she swung over a punch aimed at the driver’s jaw.
The driver had been expecting it and shifted his head a trifle. Gerda’s fist scraped his ear and he countered with a heavy slap across her face with his open hand. The blow stunned her and she fell on her knees, suddenly frightened. She knew that this guy was too strong and smart for her.
The driver knelt down beside her and smacked her face several times. The pain made tears run down her face and she tried to protect herself with upraised arms. All he did was to poke her with his forefinger very hard in her belly which brought her hands down quickly, and then he went on slapping her.
“Had enough?” he asked after a while.
Gerda was too dazed to speak. She lay limply waiting, shudderingly, for him to take her. She felt his hands on her clothes, but she hadn’t the strength to resist him. A red haze hung before her eyes and her face and head seemed to be on fire.
She was suddenly conscious that something awful for her had happened. She heard the driver suck in his breath sharply and she heard him mutter, “For Pete’s sake,” and she realized with a dreadful sinking feeling that he had found the roll of money.
She struggled up and tried to snatch it from him, but he was too quick for her. He shoved her away roughly and stood up.
“Where did you get this?” he shouted, holding the roll in a trembling hand.
“Give it to me—it’s mine.”
“Yeah? Well, prove it’s yours.”
“I tell you it’s mine,” Gerda said, nearly sobbing with fury. “Give it to me!”
The roll disappeared into the driver’s pocket. “You pinched it,” he said. “Maybe you got it from the house that was on fire way back. A tramp like you wouldn’t have so much dough.”
Gerda threw herself on him, her fingers clawing for his eyes. He hit her between her eyes as she came in, sending her in a heap on the floor-boards, then he stepped over her and booted her out of the truck. She landed in the wet mud of the road with a thud that shook the breath out of her.
He said, as he dropped to the road beside her: “If you want the dough, come along to Fort Pierce an’ ask the cops for it. Maybe they’ll have it for you.” He gave a little snigger. “Somehow I don’t think they’ll know much about it,” and he ran back to the truck and drove away.