1957 - The Guilty Are Afraid by James Hadley Chase Read Free Book Online Page B

“When are you getting out of town, shamus?”
    “I don’t know,” I said mildly. “Within a week I’d say.”
    “Would you? And what the hell are you going to do in this town for a week, shamus?”
    “See the sights, swim, take a girl out and relax generally.”
    He wasn’t expecting this and he hunched his shoulders.
    “Yeah? You weren’t planning to stick your snout into this murder case, were you?”
    “I’ll watch Lieutenant Rankin’s progress with interest,” I said. “I’m sure he can get along fine without my help.”
    Katchen leaned back in his chair, making the back creak.
    “That’s pretty white of you, shamus.” He glared at me for maybe twenty seconds, then went on, “I don’t like a beetle around the place. If I catch up with him I put my foot on him.”
    “I can imagine that, Captain.”
    “Yeah? Don’t kid yourself, shamus, you can pull a fast one on me. You start interfering in this case and you’ll wonder what’s hit you.” He lifted his voice into a bellow and yelled at me: “Understand?”
    “Yes, Captain.”
    He showed his teeth in a big, sneering grin.
    “Not a gutty beetle, are you, shamus? Okay, don’t say you haven’t been warned. Keep your nose clean, keep away from me and you might possibly survive. If you ever come into this office again, you won’t forget the experience. Remember that. You put one foot wrong and you’ll be brought in. We have ways of softening beetles, shamus.” His little eyes glittered. “Okay, now you’ve been told and remember you ain’t going to be told again. One step wrong, and in you come, and, shamus, if you do come in, the boys will certainly give you a work out before they kick you into a cell.” He looked at Candy. “Take this yellow-gutted beetle out of here and lose him,” he snarled. “He makes me sick to my stomach even to look at him.”
    Candy pushed himself away from the wall and opened the office door.
    Katchen lifted a huge finger and pointed at me.
    “Keep your snout out of this case or else . . .”
    I took a step to the door, paused and said, “Could I ask a question, Captain?”
    He ran the tip of his tongue over his thick, rubbery lips.
    “What question?”
    “Did Lee Creedy call you up and ask you to talk to me?”
    His eyes narrowed and his great hands turned into fists.
    “What does that mean?”
    “Mr. Creedy hired Sheppey to do a job for him. While doing it Sheppey got killed. Mr. Creedy is anxious to keep that bit of information quiet. He reckons he would be called as a witness and he would have to tell the court just why he hired Sheppey. So he had a little talk to me himself. He produced a thug called Hertz and tried to scare me with him. I was curious to know if Mr. Creedy was losing confidence in his thug and had asked you to strengthen the threat to make sure it would stick.”
    I heard Candy draw in a quick breath.
    Katchen’s face turned the colour of a damson plum. Very slowly he got to his feet. Standing, he looked larger than life: a kind of Boris Karloff nightmare. He moved away from his desk and advanced slowly towards me.
    I waited, not moving, my eyes on his.
    “So there is a little life in you, shamus,” he said, and the words seemed to come through clenched teeth. “Well, here’s something to go on with.”
    His open hand came up and exploded against the side of my face. I saw it coming and rolled with the slap, taking some of the weight out of it, but it was hard enough to make my head ring and send me staggering.
    He waited for me to straighten up, then he thrust his dark, blood-congested face into mine.
    “Go on, shamus,” he said in a low, vicious whisper, “hit me!”
    I was tempted to hang one on his jaw. Very often a guy of his build can’t take a punch on the jaw, but I knew he wanted me to hit him. I knew if I even threatened to hit him I’d be in a cell in seconds flat with three or four of his biggest men to keep me company. I didn’t move. The side of my face