No Business Of Mine Page 13
she liked it.
“I’d forgotten,” she sighed, holding me close. “Much more,
please.”
I had a sudden idea. “‘Fell me, honey, did you ever meet a guy
named Jacobi at the club?”
She shook her head. “You mean the one who was murdered? “
Oh, no, I didn’t know him, but I knew his wife, Selma. She used to be
one of the girls at the club before she married him. She was a sweet
kid and crazy about George. I haven’t seen her since he was killed. I
don’t know where she’s living. I wanted to see her because I knew
she’d be terribly cut-up at losing George, although he wasn’t a great
loss as far as I could see.”
“Selma Jacobi,” I said thoughtfully, “maybe she fits in this puzzle,
too.”
Crystal tightened her grip around my neck. “Could we forget all
this just for a little while?” she pleaded. “I don’t believe you care for
me one little bit. All you’re interested in is your horrid old puzzles.”
“Not all the time,” I said.
“Could we have a little fun this very moment?” she asked, pressed
her lips on mine.
We had fun.
Chapter XIV
THEY were waiting for me as I came out of Crystal’s flat. I guess I
asked for it. I should have been on my guard after Bradley’s threat,
but the hectic couple of hours I’d spent with Crystal had numbed me,
and I stepped into the dark street without the slightest suspicion of
what was coming to me.
It happened so quickly that I could only give a strangled shout
before something crashed down on my head and I blacked out.
I recovered to find myself lying on the floor of a fast moving car,
an evil smelling rug over my head and shoulders, someone’s heavy
feet on my chest. My head ached, and the rug threatened to stifle me.
I lay still, tried to make out what had happened. I guessed this was
Bradley’s idea of teaching me to mind my own business. I wasn’t
happy, wondered where I was being taken, and if I was going to have
my throat slit. Cautiously I moved my hands. They were free and so
were my legs. Maybe whoever had cracked me on the head had
underestimated the thickness of my skull.
The two feet lifted, thumped down on me again.
“Keeps quiet, don’t he?” a voice said.
“I ‘ope you didn’t bash ‘im too ‘ard, Joe,” another voice said.
“Not me,” Joe said. “I only patted ‘is ‘ead with my fist. ‘E’ll be orl
right once I tug ‘is ears a bit.”
I grimaced. Having my ears tugged was not one of my favourite
pastimes.
“We oughter be there by now,” the second voice went on. “ ‘Ere,
Bert, ‘ow much farther is it?”
“Just ‘ere,” the first voice said. “This’ll do, won’t it?”
“Yes, this is orl right,” Joe said.
The car slowed, bumped over uneven ground, stopped. “Nice
quiet spot wid no one to interfere wid us,” Bert remarked.
Three of them, I thought. Well, three were better than four. I lay
still, waited developments.
Boots trod on me; the car doors opened; feet scraped on gravel.
“Get ‘im out, and be careful ‘e ain’t foxing,” Bert said. ‘Ere, Joe,
you ‘andle ‘im. Ted and me’ll stand by just in case ‘e stares any funny
business.”
“I ‘ope ‘e does,” the man called Joe replied. “I don’t like bashing a
bloke in cold blood.”
I began to like Joe a little.
The other two laughed. “That’s a good ‘un,” Bert sneered. “I ain’t
so particular, nor’s Ted. Are you, Ted?”
“I’m looking forward to bashing the
,” Ted said cheerfully. “I
ain’t ‘ad any exercise for the past two weeks.”
Hands grabbed my ankles. I was dragged bodily out of the car. My
shoulders hit on the running-board, but I managed to keep my head
clear as I thudded to the ground. I remained still, waited patiently for
someone to take off the rug.
“You sure you didn’t ‘it ‘im too ‘ard?” Ted asked. “ ‘E’s a bit
quiet.”
“But not for long, matey,” Joe said. “Let’s ‘ave a look at ‘im.”
The rug was dragged off. I felt the cool night air on my face.
Cautiously I looked between half-closed lids. I could see three massive
figures standing over me, stars and a dark sky above me, trees and
bushes near by. It seemed to me I was on some sort of common.
“Strike a match, Ted,” Joe growled, bending over me, “and let’s
‘ave a look at ‘im.”
I tensed my muscles, waited.
The feeble flickering light from the match lit up Joe’s broad,
broken features. He looked like an all-in wrestler. He had the kind of
puss you dream about after a lobster supper. He knelt beside me,
took hold of my chin between fingers that felt like iron. I didn’t dare
wait any longer. Whipping back my knees and twisting sideways, I
jack-knifed into him with my feet, catching him in the middle of his
chest. It was like kicking a brick wall.
With a roar of rage and surprise, he shot over backwards.
I squirmed around, got up on my hands and knees.
One of the other massive shapes came at me. He leapt high into
the air and descended feet first-the old, spectacular all-in wrestling
pounce that looks so easy but isn’t. I had a split second to get out of
the way. I managed it, swung a wild punch at the man’s head as he
thudded into the soft soil a half a foot away from me. The guy’s skull
was made of stone, and I felt a jar run up my arm as my fist
connected.
I was on my feet now. The third man had arrived with a crouching
rush. He caught me on the shoulder with a half-arm swing that sent
me spinning backwards. I steadied up, ducked a haymaker that
started from his ankles, socked him in the left eye with everything I
had.
I didn’t wait to see the effect, but turned on my heel and
scrammed across the thick grass.
The common was as flat as a plate, seemed to stretch for miles.
Apart from bushes and an occasional tree there was no cover,
nowhere to hide. It looked as if my only chance of escape was to run
and keep running. I dug my elbows into my sides, tore across the
grass, hoped -I was in better condition than the other three.
Wild yells and oaths followed me, then silence. I ran on until I
heard the car start up, then looked over my shoulder.
They weren’t going to run after me. They preferred the easy way.
They were coming after me by car.
Although the grass was thick, it was quite possible to drive a car
over it. I knew in less than a couple of minutes they’d be all over me.
I slowed down, but kept moving. I didn’t want to be breathless
when they did catch up with me, but I wasn’t anxious to come to grips
with them any sooner than I could help. My future didn’t look too
good. Maybe they wouldn’t kill me, but they’d do the next best thing.
I thought of Bradley, waiting for these thugs to tell him what they had
done to me, and I cursed him.
The
car was only a few yards off now. Joe and Ted were hanging
on, standing on the running-boards. As soon as they got within reach
of me, they jumped off, and closed in on me.
I dodged Joe, ran in the opposite direction. Ted came rushing
after me. I slowed, let him come up, then dropped on hands and
knees. His knees cannoned into my side and he went head first into
the grass. Before Joe got within reach I was off again, but this time
Bert had manoeuvred the car so I was sandwiched between the car
and Joe,
I wheeled around, waited for Joe who came at me, cursing and
waving his arms. I ducked under them, straightened, caught him a
clout on the end of his nose which sent him reeling back.
But I couldn’t keep this dodging up for ever. They would catch me
in the end, and by that time I’d be so winded I’d be at their mercy. A
big tree a few yards away decided me. I swerved past Bert who came
lumbering up, ran across to the tree, set my shoulders against it,
waited for them.
I had time to look around the expanse of ground. There was not a
house or building to be seen, nor could I see any car lights to indicate
a main road. The spot was as bleak and as lonely as a Welsh
mountain.
The three men sorted themselves out, came forward, stopped
before me.
As I surveyed them I thought the dying gladiator was a happy man
beside me. I lifted my fists to show them they weren’t going to have it
all their own way, waited.
Bert and Ted stood to my right and left. Joe was in the centre.
“Now, chum,” Joe said, drawing near, “we’re gonna bash you, and
then you’re getting outa this country, see? If you don’t, we’ll collect
you again and bash you some more, see? Arid we’ll go on bashing you
until you do go, see?”
“I get the idea,” I said, watching them closely. “But don’t blame
me if you guys get hurt. I don’t usually fight with guys below my
weight and strength. It’s against my principles.”
Joe roared with laughter. “That’s a ‘ot ‘un,” he said. “We know
‘ow to take care of ourselves, matey. It’s you who’re going to get
‘urt.”
I had an uneasy feeling that he wasn’t going to be far wrong. “Go
on, paste ‘im, Joe,” Ted urged. “When you’re through wid ‘im I’ll ‘ave
a go.”
“There won’t be much left of ‘im by the time I’m through,” Joe
said, doubling his fists.
“I ain’t particular,” Ted said. “Just so long as you leave me
something to work on.”
Joe slouched forward, his bullet head low, his thick lips drawn off
his teeth. He looked as attractive as a gorilla, twice as dangerous.
I waited for him in the shadow of the tree, glad the moon was
behind me.
He kept coming, his big feet shuffling over the grass, making a
slight swishing sound. He wasn’t quite sure of me, didn’t know if I
could hurt him or not. He wasn’t taking any chances.
“Don’t take all night,” Ted called impatiently. “I wanna go ‘ome
even if you don’t.”
“Don’t rush him,” I said, suddenly waving my arms, and made a
move towards Joe, who cursed, stepped back, then darted forward,
his left list shooting towards my heal. I slipped the punch, hit him in
the ribs, swung a right to his jaw. He backed away with a grunt, came
at me again. A haymaker whistled past my head, a left grazed my ear.
I uncorked a right that caught him in the throat, lifted him off his feet
and stretched him flat on his back.
I blew on my knuckles, stepped back against the tree, looked over
at Ted.
“You’re next, son,” I said. “I treat ‘em all the same, no favouritism,
no waiting.”
Ted and Bert gaped at Joe, then, together, rushed at me.
I thought at least I’ve hurt one of the punks, hit Bert on the nose,
collected a punch on the side of the head from Ted that made my
teeth rattle. Bert flung himself on me, snarling, his great fists thudded
into my body. He was quite a hitter. I felt as if Tower Bridge had fallen
on me. I shoved him off, measured him, socked a couple of lefts into
his flat, ugly puss. Ted came up, caught me with a right, and I
countered with a left. Then suddenly a light exploded inside my head
and I felt myself falling.
I came to a moment or so later. I was lying on the grass, someone
was kicking my ribs very hard. I rolled away, tried to get up, but
another lick sent me flat again.
I heard Joe bawling savagely, “Lemme get at him.”
I had time to see him rushing at me, leap high into the air. I
managed to twist sideways, grab his foot. He tried to pull away, but I
had a hold. I turned his foot, wrenched it, threw my weight on it. I had
the satisfaction of hearing a bone go, and Joe’s howl of pain, then a
hand seized my hair, and a fist like a lump of iron crashed on my chin.
I felt myself rise in the air, and I landed on the thick grass with a
thump that knocked the wind out of me.
I was now half crazy with rage, and struggled to get up, but found
I hadn’t the strength to support myself. I fell forward on hands and
knees. A great crushing weight dropped on me and I went flat.
Although I knew what followed, I couldn’t do anything to stop them,
couldn’t defend myself.
Two of them systematical y beat me up. One dragged me to my
feet, held me upright, while the other bashed my face and chest with
his fists. They made a boxing sack out of me. When one got tired, the
other took over. It seemed to go on for a long time. There was nothing
I could do but take it. So I took it.
At last, they were through. They left me lying on my back blood
running into my eyes, my body pulverized. I felt little pain. That would
come later. At the moment, I could see the moon through swollen
eyes, hear what was going on as if the sounds were coming to me out
of a fog.
I was still half crazy with temper, and after a few minutes, I
managed to hoist myself to my feet. I reeled around like a drunk, fell
down again. My hand closed over a big round flint stone. That gave
me a little incentive.
Crawling upon my hands and knees, holding the flint tightly,
feeling its sharp edges digging into my fingers, I peered around until I
located the three men a few yards from me.
Ted and Bert were giving first aid attention to Joe’s ankle. It was
nice to hear his curses as they probed the swollen member with their
thick, unfeeling fingers.
I levered myself to my feet, swayed backwards, recovered, set out
across the grass towards them. It took me a little time, and it was like
walking against a strong wind. Ted heard me when I was a few feet
away, turned.
“For crying out aloud!” he exclaimed, “I’ll bust my mit on his ugly
snug this time, s’welp me if I don’t.”
I found I couldn’t get any farther, so I waited patiently for him to
come to me. He sauntered up, flexing his right arm. Bert and Joe
turned their heads to wat
ch. Bert was grinning; Joe was snarling at
me.
Ted planted himself in front of me, set himself.
“Now, chum,” he said, “I’m about to demonstrate ‘ow I put Little
Ernie to sleep in the first round. If this smack you’re going to run into
don’t take your ‘ead off your neck, then may I be.”
I collected all my remaining strength, shot the flint into his face as
his right hand began to move.
The flint caught him an inch or so below his right eye, ripped his
cheek open to the bone.
He gave a startled howl, stepped back, tripped and fell. He began
to bleed into the grass.
That was about all I could do. I’d broken Joe’s ankle and scarred
Ted for life. It was a pity I couldn’t do more for Bert, but I just hadn’t
the guts to stand any longer on my feet. I staggered forward, heard a
violent oath from Bert, saw him rush at me.
I took his punch on the point of my jaw, went out like a snuffed
candle.
Chapter XV
CRYSTAL was saying, “You may think it odd I should have married
such a wreck, but he didn’t always look like that. When we first met,
he was almost handsome.”
I opened my eyes, found I could scarcely see, stared up at the
ceiling. There was a smell of antiseptics and flowers in the room. I felt
as if I’d been run over by a steam-rol er, but the bed felt fine.
A woman’s voice said, “You may sit with him for a little while,
Mrs. Harmas. He should recover consciousness any moment now, but
please don’t excite him.”
Crystal said airily, “Oh, we’re old married folk now. He doesn’t get
excited when he sees me, worse luck.”
A door shut, and Crystal, looking cute in a blue and white check
frock and a white turban, moved into my vision. She drew up a chair,
began to put her bag on the bedside-table.
I reached out, pinched her. She gave a sharp squeal, jumped,
turned.
“I’ve recovered consciousness,” I announced.
“Oh, darling, you gave me such a fright,” she exclaimed, furtively
rubbed the spot where I’d pinched her, “and you really shouldn’t do a
thing like that. It’s very uncouth.” She took my hand, fondled it,
looked down at me with adoring eyes. “I’ve been so worried about
you, precious. You’ve no idea. I’ve been simply frantic.”
“That makes two of us,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I’ve been