Merchants of Menace Page 7

  “Over the phone,” Ella said. “Just the way Mr. Thornton did. That’s why I thought at first you might have called.” She was sniffling now, and George made her sit down.

  “So you said,” George told her. “But I asked Mr. Thornton about that. He happened to take that particular call himself. And he was quite positive the caller was a woman.”

  “A woman?”

  “Yes.” George sat down next to Ella and took her band. “He claimed he recognized your voice.”

  “But George, that’s impossible! Why, I never even used the phone once today. I was lying down with my headache and—”

  George shook his head. “I believe you, dear. But who else could it be? What other woman would know that Thornton was the plumber who put in our bathroom? Did you mention his name to anyone?”

  “No, of course not. At least, I don’t remember.” Ella was pale. “Oh, I’m so upset I can’t think straight.” She put her hands up to her forehead. “My head feels like its splitting wide open. I can’t stand it...” She stared at George. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m calling Dr. Vinson.”

  “But I’m not sick. I don’t need a doctor.”

  “He’ll give you a sedative, something for that head of yours. Now just calm down and relax.”

  So Dr. Vinson came over, and he did give Ella a sedative. She didn’t mention anything about the calls, so he only went through a routine examination.

  But afterward, when she was asleep upstairs, George took Dr. Vinson aside and told him the story—including the part about the face in the window.

  “What do you think, Doc?” he asked. “I’ve heard about such things happening when women start going through change of life. Maybe—”

  Dr. Vinson nodded. “Better have her call my office for an appointment later in the week,” he said. “We’ll see that she gets a complete checkup. Meanwhile, don’t let yourself get upset. It could be somebody’s idea of a practical joke, you know.”

  George nodded, but he wasn’t reassured.

  The part that really bothered him was the business about Ella’s voice being recognized over the phone.

  Next morning he left early, and Ella was still asleep. Down at the office he called Gimbel’s and then Kelly’s. After much confusion, he was able to locate the clerks who had taken the orders. Both insisted they had talked to a woman.

  So George called Dr. Vinson and told him so.

  No sooner had he hung up than Ella was on the phone. She could scarcely speak.

  A man had come from the Humane Society with a Great Dane. A West Side furrier, somebody Ella had never heard of, drove up with samples of mink coats—mink coats in July! A travel agency had kept calling, insisting that she had asked for infor­mation about a flight around the world. Her head was killing her; she didn’t know what to do; she wanted George to phone the police and—

  She broke off in the middle of her hysterical account, and George quickly asked what was happening. A moment later he realized he could have spared himself the question. The sound of what was happening was clearly audible over the wire: he recognized the hideous wailing.

  “Fire engines!” Ella gasped. “Somebody called the Fire Depart­ment!”

  “I’ll be right home,” George said, hanging up quickly.

  And he went right home. The trucks were gone by the time he arrived, but a lieutenant was still there, and a detective from the Police Department. Ella was trying to explain the situation to them, and it was a lucky thing George was on hand to straighten things out. He had Ella go upstairs, and then he told the men the story.

  “Please,” he said. “Don’t press any charges. If there’s any expense, anything like a fine, I’ll be glad to pay it. My wife is under doctor’s care—she’s going to have a complete examination later in the week This is all very embarrassing, but I’m sure we can straighten things out…”

  The men were quite sympathetic. They promised to let him know what the costs would be, and the detective gave George his card and told him to keep in touch in case there was anything he could do.

  Then George got on the phone and squared things with the Humane Society, the furrier, and the travel agency. After that he went up to Ella’s bedroom, where he found her lying on the bed with all the shades pulled down. He offered to fix her something to eat, but she said she wasn’t hungry.

  “Something’s happening,” she told him. “Somebody’s trying to harm us. I’m frightened.”

  “Nonsense.” George forced a smile, “Besides, we’ve got pro­tection now.” And then, to cheer her up, he told her that the detective had promised to put a watch on the house and tap the telephone.

  “If there’s anybody pulling any funny business, we’ll catch him,” George reassured her. “All you have to do is rest. By the way, Dr. Vinson said it would be a good idea if you stopped in for a checkup towards the end of the week. Why not call him for an appointment?’’

  Ella sat up. “You told him?’’

  “I had to, dear. After all, he’s your doctor. He’s in a position to help if—”

  “If what?”

  “Nothing.”

  “George. Look at me.” He didn’t, but she went on. “Do you think I made those calls? Do you?’’

  “I never said so. It’s just that Thornton claims he recognized your voice. Why would he want to lie about a thing like that?’’

  “I don’t know. But he’s lying. He must be! I never called him, George. I swear it! And I didn’t call anyone this morning. Why, I was in bed until almost noon. That sedative made me so dopey I couldn’t think straight.”

  George was silent.

  “Well, aren’t you going to say something?”

  “I believe you, dear. Now, try and get some rest.”

  “But I can’t rest now. I’m not tired. I want to talk to you.”

  “Sorry, I’ve got to get back to the office and clean up my desk. Don’t forget, I’m leaving town again tomorrow.”

  “But you can’t go now. You can’t leave me alone like this!”

  “Only for three days. You know, Pittsville and Bakerton. I’ll be back by Saturday.” George tried to sound cheerful. “Anyway, the police will keep an eye on the house, so you needn’t worry about prowlers.”

  “George, I—”

  “We’ll talk about it again tonight. Right now, I’ve got a job to attend to, remember?”

  So George left her weeping softly on the bed and went back to his office. But he didn’t pay much attention to his job.

  Roderick was waiting for him when he came in.

  The other salesmen were out that afternoon, and there was no one else near the hot, stuffy little back-room cubicle George used for an office. He and Roderick were all alone, and Roderick spoke very softly. George was glad of that, at least, because he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to hear the things Roderick told him. Nor, for that matter, would he have cared to have been overheard himself.

  The moment he saw Roderick he almost shouted, “So it was you, after all!”

  Roderick shrugged. “Who else?”

  “But I told you I didn’t want any part of it, and I meant it!”

  “Nonsense, George. You don’t know what you mean, or what you really want.” Roderick smiled and leaned forward. “You talked to this Dr. Vinson and to the detective. Did you mention my name?”

  “No, I didn’t, but—”

  “You see? That proves it. You must have realized who was responsible, but you kept silent. You wanted the scheme to work. And it is working, isn’t it? I have everything all planned.”

  In spite of himself, George had to ask the question. “How did you manage to imitate her voice?”

  “Simple. I’ve called her on the phone several times—wrong number, you know, or pretending to be a telephone solicitor. I heard enough to be able to fake it. She’s got one of those whiney voices, George. Like this. “I think I’ll lie down for a while. My head is killing me.” It was uncanny to hear Ella’ s voice issuing
from those sardonically curled lips.

  George’s heart began to pound. “You—you said you had plans,” he murmured.

  Roderick nodded. “That’s right. You’re going out of town for a few days, I believe?”

  “Yes. Tomorrow.”

  “Good. Everything will be arranged.”

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “Maybe you’d better not ask that question, George. Maybe you ought to keep out of this completely. Just leave everything to me.” Roderick cocked his head to one side. “Remember, what you don’t know won’t hurt you.”

  George sat down, then stood up again hastily. “Roderick, I want you to stop this! Lay off, do you hear me?”

  Roderick smiled.

  “Do you hear me?” George repeated. He was trembling now.

  “I heard you,” Roderick said. “But you’re upset now, George. You aren’t thinking straight. Stop worrying about Ella. She won’t really come to any harm. They’ll take quite good care of her where she’s going. And you and I will take good care of ourselves where we’re going. That’s what you want to concentrate on, George. The Caribbean. The Caribbean, with ninety thousand dollars in our pockets. A little boat, maybe, and those long, moonlit tropical nights. Think about the girls, George—those nice, slim young girls. They aren’t fat and blub­bery, always whining and complaining about headaches and tell­ing you not to touch them. They like to be touched, George. They like to be touched, and held, and caressed, and—”

  “Stop it! It’s no use. I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Too late, George. You can’t stop it now.” Roderick was very casual, but very firm. “Besides, you don’t really want to stop. It’s only that you’re afraid. Well, don’t be. I promise you won’t be involved in this at all. Just give me three days. Three days, while you’re gone—that’s all I need.”

  “I won’t go!” George shouted. “I won’t leave her! I’ll go to the police!”

  “And just what will you tell them?” Roderick paused to let the question sink in. “Oh, that would be a fine idea, wouldn’t it, going to the police? Not on your life, George. You’re going out of town like a good little boy. Because this is a job for a bad little boy—like me.”

  He was laughing at George now, and George knew it. Any further protest on his part would be useless, Still, he might have tried to do something about it if the boss hadn’t come in through the side entrance at that very moment Roderick stood up, crossed the room, slipped out the door and was gone.

  And George, staring after him, realized that his last chance had gone with him.

  Things seemed a little bit better that evening. Ella had had no further disturbances during the rest of the day, and as a result she was considerably calmer. By the time they had finished a makeshift supper and got ready for bed, both of them felt a trifle more reconciled to the coming separation.

  Ella said she had phoned Dr. Vinson and made an appointment for Friday afternoon, two days hence. George, for his part, promised to call her faithfully every evening he was away.

  “And if you need me, I’ll drive right back,” he told her. “I won’t be much more than a hundred miles away any time during the trip. Come on now, I’ll finish packing and we can get some sleep.”

  So they left it at that. And the next morning, George was up and on the road long before Ella awakened.

  He had a fairly easy day of it in Pittsville and finished his calls long before he had anticipated. Perhaps that’s why he started to worry; he had nothing else to occupy his mind.

  What was it Roderick had said? What you don’t know won’t hurt you?

  Well, that wasn’t true. Not knowing was the worst part of it. Not knowing and suspecting. Roderick had told him he had everything planned. George believed that, all right. And Rod­erick had told him he wouldn’t actually harm Ella. This part George wasn’t certain about; he didn’t know whether he could believe it or not. Roderick couldn’t be trusted. He’d proved it by the way he’d gone ahead with the scheme despite George’s protests. There was no telling what he might be capable of doing. After all, what did George know about the man? He might already be guilty of far greater crimes than the one he proposed.

  George thought of Roderick with a knife, a gun, or even his bare hands... And then he thought of those same bare hands ripping away a dress, fastening themselves like hungry mouths on naked flesh. And he saw his face, like the face of one of those fiends in that old copy of Paradise Lost with the Doré etchings, the one his mother had owned.

  The thought made his hands tremble, made his voice quaver. But he forced himself to be calm as he dialed the long-distance operator from his hotel room, put through the call to the house. And then he heard Ella’s voice, and everything was all right.

  Everything was fine.

  Yes, she could hear him. And no, nothing had happened. Nothing at all. Apparently, whoever had been playing those tricks had decided to stop. She’d been cleaning house all day. And how did he feel?

  “Fine, just fine,” George said. And meant it. His relief was tremendously exhilarating. He hung up, suddenly jubilant. Ella was undisturbed, and that meant Roderick had been scared off after all.

  George went down to the bar for a few drinks. It was still early, and he felt like celebrating. He struck up a conversation with a leather-goods salesman from Des Moines, and they hit a few of the local spots. Eventually his companion picked up a girl and wandered off. George continued on alone for quite a time, blacking out pleasantly every now and then, but always remaining under control; he liked the good feeling that came with knowing he was under control and would always behave like a little gentleman. He had the right to celebrate because he had won a victory.

  Roderick had told the truth in a way; for a while George had been tempted to let the scheme go through. But he had changed his mind in time, and Roderick must have known he meant it. Now Ella was safe, and he was safe, and they’d be happy together. Ninety thousand dollars and an island in the West Indies—what a pipe dream! George Foster Pendleton wasn’t that kind of a person. And now it was time to find the hotel, find his room, find the keyhole, find the bed, find the whirling darkness and the deep peace that waited within it.

  The next morning George had a hangover, and he was feeling pretty rocky as he drove to Bakerton. He made a few calls around noon, but just couldn’t seem to hit the ball. So in the afternoon he decided to call it quits, because he still had Friday to finish up there.

  He went back to his room intending to take a late afternoon nap, but he slept right straight through. He didn’t wake up to eat supper or call Ella or anything.

  When he woke up the next morning, he was surprised to find that Ella had apparently called him several times; he had slept right through the rings. But he felt good, and he was out making the rounds by nine.

  He called Ella immediately after supper. Her voice was relaxed and reassuring.

  “Did you go to the doctor today?” he asked.

  She had seen Dr. Vinson, she told him, and everything was fine. He had checked her over thoroughly—cardiograph, blood tests, even head x-rays. There was nothing wrong. He’d given her a few pills for her headaches, that was all.

  “Any other disturbances?” George asked.

  “No. It’s been very quiet here.” Ella sounded quite calm. “When are you coming in tomorrow?”

  “Around noon, I hope. Right after lunch.”

  “Right after lunch,” Ella repeated. “I’ll see you then.”

  “Good night,” George said, and hung up.

  He felt very happy, and yet there was something bothering him. He didn’t quite know what it was, but there was an uneasy feeling, a feeling of having forgotten an important mes­sage. Like when he was a boy and his mother sent him to the store for groceries, and he couldn’t remember one of the items on the list

  George sat there, holding the phone in his hand, and then he jumped when he heard the tapping on the door.

  He got up and opened it and
Roderick came into the room. He was smiling gaily.

  “Always stay at the best hotel in town, don’t you?” he said. “Knew I’d find you here.”

  “But what—”

  “Just thought I ought to take a run over,” Roderick said “You’re coming back tomorrow, and I figured you’d better be prepared.”

  “Prepared for what?”

  Roderick stood in front of the mirror and cocked his head. “I’ve been working hard,” he told George. “But it’s paid off. Like I told you, all I needed was three days.”

  George opened his mouth, but Roderick wasn’t to be interrupted.

  “While you’ve been snoozing away here, I’ve been up and doing.” He chuckled. “No rest for the wicked, you know. Let me give you a quick rundown. Wednesday, the day you left I made a few calls in the evening. The first one was to the savings and loan people—they’re open Wednesday nights until nine, you know. I did the Ella impersonation and told them I wanted my money out as soon as I could get it. Talked to old Higgins himself. When he asked why, I told him I was planning on getting a divorce and going to Cuba.”

  Roderick nodded to himself and continued, “Then I went around to the house and did the mask routine again. Ella was in the kitchen, drinking a glass of milk before she got ready for bed. When she saw me I thought she was going to jump right out of her skin. She ran for the telephone, and I guess she called the police. I didn’t wait around to find out.

  “Yesterday I figured it might be best to keep away from the house, so I went through the telephone gag again. I talked to Higgins once more and told him I needed the money at once, because you were deathly ill and had to have an operation on your brain. That was a neat touch, wasn’t it?

  “Then I talked to the bank, and after that I phoned a few stores and had them promise to make deliveries this morning. Just a few odds and ends—a piano, and two trombones from the Music Mart, and seventy-five dozen roses from the florist. Oh yes, as a final touch, I called Phelps Brothers and told them I wanted to stop in and look at a casket because I anticipated a death in the family.”