If I Die Before I Wake Page 7

  The men went out.

  Slowly the voices died away.

  I looked up. The tiny bright eyes were glinting at me again. I threw another stick. The rats were tired of the game. They scarcely budged.

  I was worn out with shock and terror and physical exhaustion. I wanted only to sleep. That was impossible. I remembered reading of a man who was sleeping with his hand dangling over the bed to the floor. When he woke up half his hand was chewed away. And he hadn’t felt a thing.

  There was another reason, too, why I couldn’t sleep. Now that the police were looking for me, the whole thing took on a reality it had not had before. For the first time the horror of what I had done came to me. A sort of delirium possessed me, in which Bannister appeared…

  Suddenly I saw him.

  He was coming toward me!

  In his hand was a gnarled cane. He walked with his usual comic swing. The haze curled around him. He came straight toward the building, the clump-clump of his feet ringing on the hard ground.

  The rats did not move. They did not hear him. Then he wasn’t real. But I could hear him and I could see him coming through the haze. I could see him very clearly. I could see him come to the edge of the building and stand leaning on his cane. I could see him looking – looking up at me!

  I crouched back.

  There was a rat in the corner with me. It squealed as I pressed against it.

  I could stand it no longer; I jumped up. I leaped down the stairs, far out over the broken part, and raced toward the front of the building.

  Bannister saw me coming. He raised his cane to strike.

  I stopped dead with fright, my heart pounding.

  All the horror and terror I had known was as nothing compared to this moment.

  We stood looking at each other, he with the cane still raised, me panting, half paralyzed.

  Slowly I backed away from him, back into the ruins. Once in darkness, I darted through a window at the rear and plunged through the weeds into the swamp. No one followed me. Yet it felt as though ghosts were on every side, clinging, holding me back. Wraithlike forms loomed up ahead.

  I tried to go faster. My feet sank to the knees in mud and slime. Rats scurried and squealed beneath.

  I reached the woods. I raced headlong to the road. I wanted to hear voices again, to feel people near me.

  A spotlight was covering the road. Voices came from the house and garage.

  I entered the spotlight. I walked up the path of light to the cars.

  A policeman came out through the door of the garage. He gaped at me.

  I went straight up to him. I almost collapsed at his feet.

  ‘I’m the one they’re looking for,’ I said. I could hardly talk. ‘I want to – to give myself up!’

  V

  They had me in the center of the room – my room, up above the garage. They were all talking to me at once, waiting for the others to come back. They leaned over me and shouted.

  ‘Why did you kill him?’

  ‘Come on – spill it!’

  ‘Better talk, kid – you’ll save yourself a lot of grief.’

  The room was torn apart. The mattress was half off the bed. Books were scattered around the room. The duffle bag was out in the middle. Everything in it had been dumped onto the floor.

  A big man in plain-clothes came through the door – Sergeant McCracken.

  ‘So you gave yourself up,’ he said. ‘That was the smart thing to do, all right.’

  A policeman took a cap out from inside his coat and put it on my head. He yanked the brim down over my eyes, tight.

  ‘Is that yours?’ he demanded.

  I worked the cap loose and looked at it.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Why?’

  ‘Why!’ he yelled.

  He slammed me down into the chair. He was a tall thin man with a long nose. Dance was his name. He poked the nose into my face.

  ‘All right!’ he shouted. ‘That cap was found beside the body. Now are you going to talk, or must I ram it down your throat?’

  I gulped.

  ‘What would I be killing anyone for?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s what you’re going to tell us.’

  McCracken took the packet of bills out of his pocket. The bloodstains on it looked bigger than ever.

  ‘Here’s why,’ he said. ‘We found these stuffed into the mattress. Five thousand dollars! You might as well tell us about it. I can tell to look at you that you’re not a killer. What happened?’

  I was so tired and bruised, I was willing to say anything if they would only let me alone. I saw now that of course I had to tell them about Grisby. It was my only chance.

  I said: ‘First I want to know where you found this cap.’

  ‘Sure, sure. As if you didn’t know. At the foot of Wall Street, just where you left it.’

  I looked surprised.

  ‘But I couldn’t have left it there!’

  ‘The hell you couldn’t. You did.’

  The tall man cuffed me on the cheek. He thrust his nose into my face again.

  ‘Are you going to talk, or aren’t you?’

  ‘Listen!’ I said. ‘I wasn’t down at Wall Street tonight. I was down at the beach.’

  ‘Sure you were,’ he said. ‘You were having a nice cool dip for yourself. We know it. But will the judge believe it? That’s what’s worrying us.’

  ‘What did you run away for if you didn’t do it?’ McCracken asked. He was the nicest one of the lot. I decided not to pay any attention to the others, but to talk to him.

  ‘Mr Grisby came out about ten o’clock,’ I told him. ‘I drove him down to the station, when he’d got what he came for here. We missed the train. It was hot. He suggested that we drive down to the beach while we waited for the next train. On the way we had an accident. We ran into a truck. The name of the truck driver is Steve Crunch.’

  ‘You’re taking all this down?’ McCracken asked a policeman.

  I saw that the policeman had a notebook and was taking it all down.

  I went on: ‘Down at the beach where we parked the car we thought we heard a sound. Grisby said maybe it was a stick-up. I took the gun out of the side-pocket of the car, and just then the gun went off. I hadn’t meant it to. The bullet hit Grisby and I saw that he was dead. I got panicky. Even though it was an accident, it might look like murder. So I weighted the body down and threw it in the Sound. He couldn’t be any deader, and that way I thought I would be safe.’

  ‘Were you wearing your cap?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I don’t know how I lost it, but I was pretty excited. People were on the beach, all up and down, and they heard the shot. They came up running. When they got there I was alone, of course. They decided everything was all right. So I came on back here.’

  ‘What time did you get back?’

  He wouldn’t believe it if I told him about the lights of the car going out and holding me up for half an hour. Nobody saw me coming back.

  ‘It was eleven o’clock,’ I said. ‘I know, because I looked at the clock.’

  ‘And then you tried to wash the bloodstains from the car.’

  ‘Naturally. It was just an accident, and I didn’t want to get in any trouble because of it. Even if I went free, I might lose my job. It was the only one I’d been able to get in a year.’

  ‘You were broke when you took the job?’

  ‘I didn’t have a cent.’

  ‘And how long have you been here?’

  ‘About eight weeks.’

  ‘Did you like it here?’

  ‘Yes, I liked it fine.’

  ‘Mrs Bannister says you were all set to leave last night, that you wanted to go back to sea.’

  She must have said that to defend me, to show that I couldn’t have had any premeditated ideas of murder. Now it looked like it was going to act as a boomerang.

 
‘I was thinking of going, yes.’

  ‘I guess you weren’t satisfied with the money you were making here?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  McCracken tapped the five thousand dollars.

  ‘You think I got that from Grisby?’ I asked.

  ‘We’re asking you.’

  The tall man pushed me in the back of the head.

  ‘I suppose he’s going to tell us he got it from singing in opera,’ he said.

  ‘I found it,’ I said.

  ‘Sure you found it. You found it right down at the foot of Wall Street, where all the money comes from. J. P. Morgan must have dropped it. He wouldn’t know the difference, a piking five thousand.’

  ‘All right,’ I said. ‘I got it off of Grisby. I didn’t want anyone identifying him if he ever bobbed up and I took all his things out of his pockets. I burned the rest, but I didn’t burn that. Why should I? It wasn’t any good to him any more.’

  They asked a lot of other questions. I was confused, but I remembered clearly that the main thing I had to do was prove that I couldn’t have been off murdering someone else as long as I was killing Grisby and throwing his body in the Sound. I told about Mrs Bannister asking about the car and the accident when I got home. And I repeated the time – about eleven o’clock. I knew I must stick to that, whatever happened.

  ‘You can prove that?’ McCracken asked.

  I did some fast thinking. I remembered that Broome was drunk; he wouldn’t have known whether it had been eleven or eleven-thirty.

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Ask Broome, he’ll tell you.’

  Dance laughed.

  ‘That’s a good one,’ he said. ‘For two cents I’d—’

  ‘Never mind that now,’ McCracken said. He handed me the notebook. ‘Just sign what you’ve said here and we’ll take the rest of it up when we get you down to headquarters.’

  I played the part very well. It was just as Grisby said, anything to get out of the Bannister killing.

  But my hand shook as I signed the paper.

  ‘That’s fine,’ said McCracken.

  He took the confession, the cap, and the money and put them inside his coat.

  ‘And now suppose you tell us how you happened to kill Broome,’ he said.

  VI

  ‘Broome!’

  I remembered hitting him when he tried to stop me from going out the window. But I couldn’t have killed him with the blow – I couldn’t have! It wouldn’t even have knocked him out, if he hadn’t been drunk.

  McCracken narrowed his eyes.

  ‘You’re not going to pretend you didn’t know?’

  ‘You mean he’s really dead – Broome?’

  ‘Oh, he’s dead, all right.’

  ‘But how – he couldn’t be dead!’

  ‘Look here. You didn’t give us any trouble about Grisby. Why hold out on this? You probably found out he was a detective. Maybe he called you on the bloodstains in the car, or on your clothes. Whatever it was, you knew you wouldn’t be safe unless you got him out of the way. Maybe everything you said about Grisby and the accident is true. But accident or not, you admit you tried to cover up by weighting the body and throwing it in the Sound. What good would all that be if Broome found out?’

  ‘It wouldn’t be any good, but if he’d found out, I would have told him the truth. I did with you, didn’t I?’

  ‘Then you’re going to stand by the Grisby confession, but balk on the Broome angle?’

  ‘I didn’t kill Broome!’ I said. ‘Why should I tell you I did?’

  Dance came up beside me and doubled up a bony fist. He looked at McCracken.

  ‘Shall I try the lie-detector on him?’

  He waved the fist in front of my face.

  ‘No. He’ll talk.’

  ‘How was he killed?’ I asked.

  ‘He was choked to death.’

  Then it couldn’t have been the blow that did it. But who would choke him, and why? My head was in a whirl.

  ‘Where did you find him?’ I asked.

  McCracken jerked his head toward Broome’s room.

  ‘In there,’ he said. ‘On the floor. Fully dressed, but he’d been lying down on the bed.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t do it.’

  ‘Any idea who did?’

  ‘No. He was all right when I went out the window, because I saw him. So it must have happened after you’d got here.’

  ‘You mean he saw you go out the window, and didn’t try to stop you?’

  ‘He did try. That was when you were coming up the steps. He came for me and I hit him. I’ll admit that. But there wasn’t time for me to have choked him, even if I’d wanted to.’

  ‘Unless you did it before we came.’

  ‘I didn’t, though!’

  McCracken looked sad.

  ‘Well, you’d better think fast about who did do it, then, because everything points to you. Did you know he was a detective?’

  ‘Uh—’

  ‘You did, didn’t you?’

  ‘I guessed he was. I didn’t know.’

  ‘But you weren’t taking any chances.’

  ‘I told you, I didn’t do it.’

  McCracken turned abruptly and started for the door.

  ‘Come with me,’ he said.

  I followed him into the next room. He watched my every move, my every expression, all the while we were there. I felt as guilty as though I had really killed Broome and was trying to cover up. I knew that he sensed this guilt, and that the others in the room sensed it.

  Broome was lying on his back with one hand to his throat. His face was black, and his tongue, swollen, protruded from blue lips. There was no sign of a struggle.

  McCracken said nothing. The rest of the men said nothing. All looked at me.

  ‘You’re sure he was choked?’

  ‘Look at those bruises on his throat. And look at the way his tie is twisted – that’s how he was choked!’

  I looked. I wet my lips. My own tongue felt swollen. It seemed that the hands that were at his throat were at mine.

  ‘You still don’t want to talk?’

  I gulped.

  ‘I don’t understand it,’ I said.

  ‘You mean if you didn’t do it, who else could have, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s my point. If you didn’t, who else could have? You’d better talk, kid – for your own sake. But you don’t have to.’

  We went back to my room. I slumped down into a chair.

  ‘Get your things ready,’ said McCracken. ‘You’ll be gone a long time.’

  Elsa came in. She was wearing a bathrobe over her negligee – Bannister’s white robe with the cowl hanging loose. She came up to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

  ‘Laurence—’ she said.

  I felt like crying when I looked at her. Her eyes were half filled with tears.

  ‘Yes’m?’

  ‘Laurence, did you really do this thing?’

  I didn’t know whether she was talking about Bannister, Grisby or Broome.

  I bowed my head. I would like to have gotten her alone and told her about it, how I was caught in it against my will, how I would have run out if she hadn’t stopped me the way she did. I couldn’t talk to her here, however. I said nothing.

  ‘But how could you?’ she asked. ‘Oh, I’m sure he couldn’t have,’ she said to McCracken.

  He shook his head.

  ‘You never can tell by the looks of people what they’ll do. One question I’d like to ask you, though, Mrs Bannister. He says he was back here by eleven o’clock and that you asked him about the car being smashed. Can you be sure about the time?’

  I caught my breath and waited, sweating.

  ‘Yes, I know he was back before eleven.’

  I let out breath.

  ‘How can you be s
ure?’ McCracken asked her.

  ‘Broome came in asking for an aspirin. While I was getting it I noticed the time. It was a few minutes after eleven and he had been back about ten minutes then.’

  I looked at her. From the way she talked, it sounded as though she really thought I was back before eleven. It sounded, too, as though she thought Broome was still alive.

  ‘And what time was it that Grisby left?’ McCracken went on.

  She thought a minute before answering. She looked very beautiful.

  ‘Why, I don’t really know. I was downtown shopping and had stopped for a show. He had left by the time I returned.’

  ‘What time was that?’

  ‘That was about ten-thirty, so he must have come before then. The maid must have let him in—’

  ‘Yes, we’ve talked to her. She said he got here at ten.’

  ‘But, then – she must have told you I wasn’t here when he came!’

  ‘Oh, she did. But she said she went to sleep right after he left. We have to check every detail – sorry. And now, I think, if you want to get some sleep—’

  She went out looking back over her shoulder at me. I knew she would have liked to stay and help me still more, but she couldn’t let on that there was anything between us.

  I hauled out the duffle bag and got ready to leave.

  And then my heart somersaulted.

  Someone was coming up the stairs.

  My blood chilled. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move or take my eyes from the door. And suddenly, there he was—

  BANNISTER!

  He came clumping into the room. My mouth hung open. I forced my eyes down to his feet. His shoes were covered with mud. His cane was tipped with clay.

  Then he WAS in the swamp! It WAS he in the moonlight, looking up at me! It WAS he who raised his cane to strike!

  I heard his voice.

  ‘So they found you!’ he said.

  His cane tapped me on the arm. I sprang back and away from him. My hand went to my mouth to stop the scream on my lips.

  HE WASN’T DEAD. SOMETHING HAD GONE WRONG.

  My head felt like it would crack. The whole truth crashed in on me.

  IT WAS GRISBY WHO WAS DEAD.

  IT WAS GRISBY WHO LAY BLEEDING DOWN ON WALL STREET.