Like A Hole In The Head by James Hadley Chase Read Free Book Online Page B

me or surrender.
         "No one . . ." he began, his voice quivering with fury.
         I had him on the run and I knew it.
         "Hear me !" I bawled. "Get lost!"
         He hesitated, then walked slowly to the truck. He climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nick climb in beside him. The truck moved off and headed for the range.
         I looked at Timoteo who was standing, transfixed. The black sun goggles were pointing my way. I assumed he was looking at me, but I couldn't swear to it.
         I grinned at him.
         "I don't like that guy," I said. I purposely softened my voice. "I'm an ex-Army man. When I don't like a guy, I bawl him out. Are you sure you wouldn't like a cup of coffee?"
         He gulped, then shook his head.
         The driver of the Cadillac who had been watching this little scene, came over.
         "Excuse me, sir," he said to me. His flat Chimp face was tight and his breath whistled through his flat nostrils. "Okay for me to speak to Mr. Savanto?"
         At least I had put the fear of God in him.
         "Go ahead," I said and walked over to the bungalow where Lucy was standing under the roof of the verandah. I knew she had seen and heard what had happened. I wanted to reassure her.
         She looked at me as I reached her, her eyes very wide and shocked.
         "I had to handle him, honey," I said quietly. "He's a trouble maker. Just relax. Now he's been told, he'll stay told."
         "Oh, Jay !"
         I saw she was shaking.
         "Come on, baby, snap out of it." I gave her a quick kiss. "Don't let my Army voice scare you." I grinned at her, trying to be reassuring, but she was staring at me, bewildered and still shocked. "It's a trick. You just bawl and you get things done. Come on, honey, I've got things to do."
         "I'm sorry, Jay." She made an effort to pull herself together. "I've never heard a voice like that. I couldn't believe it was coming from you."
         "Like I said, it's a trick . . . it's Army." Again I grinned, but it was a little forced. I knew I was wasting valuable time. "You'll go to the bank?"
    "Yes."
         "If there's anything else you want, buy it. Have you looked at the food they've delivered?"
         "Not yet."
         "Well, look at it. If there's anything missing, get it. Okay?"
         "Yes."
         I heard the Cadillac start up. Turning, I saw the car heading down the drive. Timoteo Savanto still stood where I had left him in the sun. He had his hands clasped behind his back and he was looking after the departing car. Even with the sun goggles hiding his eyes, he looked like a pet dog watching his master leave him.
         "I have to take care of Timoteo," I said. "See you lunch time."
         I left her and walked across the sand. When I came up to Timoteo he stiffened and turned his goggles towards me.
    "Let's go over to the range and have a talk."
         Beyond him, I saw the truck moving away from the shooting gallery and head towards the distant palm trees.
         We walked in silence to the gallery and entered the cool, dim leanto. Away from us were the targets, a hundred yards out in the hot sunshine.
         By one of the wooden benches were two cases of ammunition and a rifle in a canvas case.
         "This your gun?"
         He nodded.
         "Sit down and relax."
         He lowered himself on to the bench as if he expected it to collapse under him. His thin swarthy face was covered with sweat beads. His hands shook and jerked. He was as fit for a morning's target practice as an old lady who finds a burglar under her bed.
         I've had them before: the guys who hate guns, who hate the noise a gun makes, who can't see anything exciting in using a gun well. There are two ways of handling them in the Army. First, the sympathetic approach, gentling them along as you gentle a nervous