1977 - My Laugh Comes Last by James Hadley Chase Read Free Book Online Page A

if I were still in a nightmare, but it was gradually dawning on me I was now in a deadly trap. By allowing Klaus to get rid of Marsh's body, I was delivering myself into his hands.
    Harry swung the car off the highway and drove down the sandy road to Ferris Point. He pulled up under the shade of a clump of palm trees.
    ‘Wait a moment, Mr. Lucas,' he said. 'I'll take a look-see.'
    He got out of the car and walked around the high-growing sand shrubs.
    Joe stopped playing his harmonica. He and Benny got out of the car. I sat still and waited. After a few minutes, Harry returned.
    'It's okay. Let's go, Mr. Lucas. We have some digging to do.'
    Joe opened the trunk of my car and produced two trenching tools. Leaving Benny by the car, Harry, Joe and I walked into the jungle of shrubs.
    In sight of the deserted beach and the sea, Harry stopped, 'How about here, Mr. Lucas? We'll put him in deep.'
    I surveyed the place, looked around, and then down at | the bare patch of sand, surrounded by shrubs. ‘Yes,' I heard myself say.
    Joe began to dig. It was heavy work. The sand kept falling back into the hole he was making. The sun, by now, was hot I stood there in my nightmare, waiting.
    When Joe had made a seven-foot trench of about a foot deep, Harry, using his trenching tool, began to clear the sand Joe was throwing up. The work moved faster.
    The two men were sweating. I watched Joe's muscles rippling, and the sweat dripping from Harry's beard. The whole scene was so unreal, I could have been doing a moonwalk.
    When the trench was some five feet deep, Harry said, 'Okay, Joe. Hold it.'
    Joe grinned, wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand and climbed out of the trench.
    Harry turned and looked at me.
    'Well now, Mr. Lucas, this is your funeral, isn't it? We want another foot deeper.' He offered me his trenching tool.
    'Do some digging!' The sudden vicious snap in his voice told me I had no alternative. I took off my jacket, took the trenching tool and stepped down into the trench.
    Harry and Joe moved back.
    Still in this nightmare, I began to dig. I had only dug for two or three minutes, when Harry said, 'Fine, Mr. Lucas. Joe'll finish it. He digs digging,' and he laughed. He reached down, caught hold of my wrist and pulled me out of the trench. Joe took my place, and in a few minutes, the trench was some six feet deep.
    'Do you think that's okay, Mr. Lucas?' Harry asked. 'I can't see any child or dog digging down that far. Once he's in there, he's in for good. What do you say?'
    I draped my jacket over my shoulders, sweat streaming down my aching face.
    ‘Yes.'
    Harry looked at Joe.
    'Go get him.'
    The Negro ran off towards the car.
    I waited.
    Harry, holding the trenching tool by its blade, stared at the beach and the sea.
    'A nice spot,' he said. 'I wouldn't mind being buried here. Better than those crummy cemeteries with their crosses and flowers.'
    I didn't say anything.
    Joe and Benny appeared, carrying the body of the squat man. I turned away, feeling sick. I heard a thump as they dropped the body by the open grave.
    'Mr. Lucas, just take a look. Make sure, huh?' Harry said.
    I turned.
    Joe and Benny moved back. There was the squat man, bloody, and in death, lying on the sand.
    Harry gave me a sudden hard shove, and I staggered forward so I was right on top of the body. I looked down in horror. His face had been smashed in. I could see the white of his brains on his broken forehead.
    'Okay, Mr. Lucas,' Harry said, coming forward and taking hold of my arm. 'Let's get back to the car. Benny and Joe will fix him. You happy? I want you to be happy about this.'
    I jerked away from him and walked unsteadily back to my car. He kept by my side. When we reached the car, his hand again took hold of my arm and he steered me firmly to the back of the car. He opened the trunk.
    'Here's a mess, Mr. Lucas, but don't worry your brains. We'll fix it for you.'
    I looked at the blood-soaked rubber lining of the trunk and turned