Read Online Never Say No to a Killer by Clifton Adams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Clifton Adams
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did manage to get him in the back seat and close the door. Then I got under the wheel of the limousine, after shoving Humphrey down to the floorboards, and got away from there. It seemed incredible to me that the street wasn't filled with people-horns blasting, guns exploding!
The noise, I guess, hadn't been nearly as loud as it had seemed to me, but it had been plenty loud enough.
For a moment all I could think of was getting away from that neighborhood as fast as possible, but soon I began to settle down. The excitement and wildness, the exhilaration born of sudden violence, began to cool in my brain and I thought: Hold it, Surratt! This is no time to risk a reckless driving charge, not with a dead man in the car, an ex-governor at that! Maybe a dead ex-governor and a dead chauffeur as well.
Traffic was pretty thin on the side streets at that time of night, and I kept going south and east, not knowing where I was going, but knowing that I had to get that limousine and the bodies as far away from the apartment as possible. Pretty soon we were, in the factory district again, not far from Burton's own plant, and I decided that this would be as good a place as any. This part of town was drab, dead and lifeless at this time of night; the buildings standing gaunt and empty-eyed. I turned into a narrow brick paved street, a private one-way street that would be jammed in the daytime with trucks loading and unloading at one of the factories, but now it was empty.
I stopped the limousine and listened. There was no sound at all in the immediate neighborhood. Only then did I examine the chauffeur. He was dead.
With my handkerchief I wiped the steering wheel, the dash, the doors, the windows, everything I might have touched. Then I wiped Humphrey's automatic and left it on the front seat-I had no use for automatics, and it wouldn't have been smart to keep it if I had.
I had one good look at Burton before I left. He didn't look like much. His mouth was open, as though he were trying to yell, and his eyes were open, very wide. He looked like the most surprised bastard in the world.
I felt pretty good.
It had come off very nicely. The one man in Lake City who had had the power and brains to buck John Venci was dead. It was clear sailing now; the single danger had been eliminated. I said aloud, “Sweet dreams, boys,” and walked away.
I turned west and saw a bar at the end of the block. Up ahead, in the middle of the next block there was an all night eating place-I went in and ordered a glass of milk and a piece of pie. Later I called a taxi, and when he arrived I gave the driver an address down town. Downtown I took another cab and went to an address south-east, and from there I took still another cab to within a couple of blocks of my apartment. It took some time, but it would be worth it when the cops went to work.
It was about one o'clock when I finally walked into my apartment. I had company. It was Dorris Venci.
I said, “Well, for a woman who never wanted to see me again, you pop up in some pretty strange places.”
“I had to know!” she said quickly. “Did you…?”
“I did.”
“… Oh.”
I closed the door, walked into the room and dropped into a chair. She sat on the sofa with her hands clasped in her lap, every muscle in her body as rigid as steel. “Are… Are you sure?” she said nervously.
“I give you my personal guarantee; you can stop worrying about Burton's hoodlums coming in your windows and you can stop worrying about being killed.
“Relax, now. You're going to fly all to pieces one of these days if you don't learn how to relax.” I was tired. It had been a very successful day, but it had also been a wearing one. “Why don't you go home,” I said, “and try to get some sleep?”
She stared at her hands. “Yes… I suppose I should.”
But she didn't move.
“Well,” I said, “you might as well come out with it.”
“What?”
“You didn't come here just to find out about
The noise, I guess, hadn't been nearly as loud as it had seemed to me, but it had been plenty loud enough.
For a moment all I could think of was getting away from that neighborhood as fast as possible, but soon I began to settle down. The excitement and wildness, the exhilaration born of sudden violence, began to cool in my brain and I thought: Hold it, Surratt! This is no time to risk a reckless driving charge, not with a dead man in the car, an ex-governor at that! Maybe a dead ex-governor and a dead chauffeur as well.
Traffic was pretty thin on the side streets at that time of night, and I kept going south and east, not knowing where I was going, but knowing that I had to get that limousine and the bodies as far away from the apartment as possible. Pretty soon we were, in the factory district again, not far from Burton's own plant, and I decided that this would be as good a place as any. This part of town was drab, dead and lifeless at this time of night; the buildings standing gaunt and empty-eyed. I turned into a narrow brick paved street, a private one-way street that would be jammed in the daytime with trucks loading and unloading at one of the factories, but now it was empty.
I stopped the limousine and listened. There was no sound at all in the immediate neighborhood. Only then did I examine the chauffeur. He was dead.
With my handkerchief I wiped the steering wheel, the dash, the doors, the windows, everything I might have touched. Then I wiped Humphrey's automatic and left it on the front seat-I had no use for automatics, and it wouldn't have been smart to keep it if I had.
I had one good look at Burton before I left. He didn't look like much. His mouth was open, as though he were trying to yell, and his eyes were open, very wide. He looked like the most surprised bastard in the world.
I felt pretty good.
It had come off very nicely. The one man in Lake City who had had the power and brains to buck John Venci was dead. It was clear sailing now; the single danger had been eliminated. I said aloud, “Sweet dreams, boys,” and walked away.
I turned west and saw a bar at the end of the block. Up ahead, in the middle of the next block there was an all night eating place-I went in and ordered a glass of milk and a piece of pie. Later I called a taxi, and when he arrived I gave the driver an address down town. Downtown I took another cab and went to an address south-east, and from there I took still another cab to within a couple of blocks of my apartment. It took some time, but it would be worth it when the cops went to work.
It was about one o'clock when I finally walked into my apartment. I had company. It was Dorris Venci.
I said, “Well, for a woman who never wanted to see me again, you pop up in some pretty strange places.”
“I had to know!” she said quickly. “Did you…?”
“I did.”
“… Oh.”
I closed the door, walked into the room and dropped into a chair. She sat on the sofa with her hands clasped in her lap, every muscle in her body as rigid as steel. “Are… Are you sure?” she said nervously.
“I give you my personal guarantee; you can stop worrying about Burton's hoodlums coming in your windows and you can stop worrying about being killed.
“Relax, now. You're going to fly all to pieces one of these days if you don't learn how to relax.” I was tired. It had been a very successful day, but it had also been a wearing one. “Why don't you go home,” I said, “and try to get some sleep?”
She stared at her hands. “Yes… I suppose I should.”
But she didn't move.
“Well,” I said, “you might as well come out with it.”
“What?”
“You didn't come here just to find out about
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