Girl out back by Charles Williams

I looked straight ahead, pretending not to see. I didn’t have time to answer the phone. When I came to the street and was about to drive into it, I had to wait for a car coming from my left. It was a police car, one of those belonging to the Sheriff’s Department. It didn’t go past, however; it turned in, and stopped right alongside me.

It was Grady Collins, the deputy who was stationed here in Wardlow. He was a stocky and pleasant-faced younger type of about twenty-five, a Marine Corps veteran of the Korean war.

He pushed the white hat back on his head and grinned. “Hi, Barney. I was just headed for your place.”

“What’s on your mind, Grady?” I asked. Why didn’t some lab come up with a liquid cop-repellant you could rub on yourself?

“You don’t know a guy named Nunn, do you? George Nunn?”

What now? “Well, I’ve seen him once or twice. Why?”

Before he could answer, I heard somebody running across the gravel behind me, and looked back. It was Otis.

“Long distance call for you,” he said. “From Felton.”

As far as I knew, I didn’t know anybody in Felton. Nor want to.

“Tell the operator to transfer it home,” I said. “In five minutes or so. Thanks, Otis.” He turned and went back.

“What about this Nunn?” I asked Collins. If I ever got out of this place maybe I ought to take a vacation.

“I don’t know. He sounds Asiatic. Called up a little while ago with some goofy line of crap his wife’s with you and he wants her picked up so he can talk to her. Get her to come back.”

What was his angle in that? Oh. Trying to delay us until he could get hold of another gun and start looking for us.

“With me?” I said. “Where’d he call from? Some opium den?”

Collins grinned and shook his head. “You got me, pal. From that camp of his, I guess. Anyway, you haven’t seen her, have you?”

“No,” I said.

“Well, that’s what I told the meat-head. Also that I couldn’t pick her up, anyway, unless he came in and swore out a complaint. If he calls back, I”ll tell him to go sleep it off. Brother, this job.”

“Well, I’ll see you,” I said.

He lifted a hand and grinned. “See you, Barney.”

I hit the light green crossing Main and was home in two minutes or less. I put the car in the garage, pulled down the overhead door, and started in the front of the house. Just as I was going up the steps I remembered I hadn’t called the express company. Well, I’d do that now. God, would I ever get away from here? And what was I going to pack that money in? It had to be something waterproof. And I’d have to come up with something to tell her, some new errand.

I stepped into the living-room, and looked around in surprise. She wasn’t there. “Jewel,” I called.

There was no answer. Maybe she’d gone upstairs to the bathroom. I called again, a little louder, and received only silence in reply. There were four cigarettes, smeared with lipstick, in the ash-tray she had been using. I turned toward the dining-room. There was her overnight bag, lying on its side under the edge of the table. I stepped quickly over and looked in.

She wasn’t there, but two of the chain were overturned. And near them lay one of her shoes.

I began to run then. I took the stairs three at a time and made the turn into the bedroom so fast I almost lost my balance and crashed into the wall. She was on the bed, lying face up with most of her clothes torn off and the cord of my electric razor around her throat. I took one look at her and headed for the bathroom. I fell to my knees in front of the John and tried not to be sick.

The telephone began ringing downstairs. It went on and on.

My arms shook as if with a bad chill as I braced myself against the wall. I had to get out of there, to some place where I could think. Away from her. I kept seeing her, even behind me and with my eyes closed.

The police, I thought. I had to call the police so they could catch the unspeakable son of a bitch and hang him before he could get out of the country. The phone went on ringing. Well, maybe it would stop some day. I got

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