Trusted Like The Fox by James Hadley Chase Read Free Book Online

while he kept out of sight; and in the Inner Circle train he was careful to hold a handkerchief to his face like a man with toothache.
    While the train rattled through the tunnels he tried to think of a plan. He knew he was leaving a trail behind him and the police couldn’t be far off. He had to go somewhere where he could think. He must get out of London. There were too many policemen in London. You never knew from one minute to the next when they would pounce on you. His mind went back into the past, and he remembered the time when his mother was dying. He had been in the way, and his father had sent him to stay with an old woman who lived in Eastwood. For two months he had spent his days wandering in the fields, exploring the footpaths and playing solitary games in the woods. He had come to know the district well, and now as he sat huddled up in the train, his handkerchief to his face, he decided that Eastwood would be an ideal place in which to hide until he had formulated a plan.
    When they reached Baker Street station, he sent Grace once more to buy two single tickets to Eastwood.
    The girl seemed in a kind of trance. He had only to tell her to do anything and she immediately obeyed. The dead expression in her eyes both irritated and puzzled him. He did not understand that the shock of seeing him hit Mrs Wheeler had robbed her of will-power and strength. She was convinced that Mrs Wheeler was dead and that if they were caught, she would be found guilty, and both of them would be hanged. The thought paralysed her mind, made her an automaton. But although Ellis terrified her, she had blind faith in him. She felt that if anyone could get her out of this ghastly mess he could do it, and so, until she had time to recover, she decided to stick to him.
    As the train carried them through the outer suburbs of London, it dawned on Ellis too that he would have to stick to the girl. She was essential to him if he was to escape. No one would pick her out from the description in the newspaper. She was too ordinary, had no distinctive features. He put his hand to the scar. It was as if he had his name painted across his face. She would have to be his voice; she would have to conceal the betraying scar. He had been right to have helped her in the first place; had been right to have got her away from the woman with the handbag, given her food. Now she was in his debt; it was her turn to help him.
    He told her so.
    She stared at him, helpless and frightened, reading the words as they formed on his lips.
    “You shouldn’t have hit her like that,” was all she could say. The picture of Mrs Wheeler lying on the floor, blood running down the side of her face, dominated her thoughts. “Why did you do it?” she went on, wringing her hands. “You could have given her the money . . .”
    Ellis shrugged impatiently, looked out of the window. He knew she was right, and knowing that he had been unable to control his vicious temper made him uneasy.
    They were now rushing past green fields and he remembered the Taleham golf course, a station or so farther up the line, where he used to watch the players and hunt for balls in the small wood near the seventh fairway. He suddenly decided to go there for the night. They could sleep in the clubhouse, and with luck the girl could get herself a rig-out from the women’s lockers.
    This idea excited him; he leaned forward and tapped Grace on her knee. She started back, flushing.
    He told her what he thought of doing.
    “I’ll get you clothes. Anyone will recognise you now, but in a new rig-out you wouldn’t be noticed.”
    She wrung her hands in silence, her eyes imploring him to leave her alone.
    “Pull yourself together,” he said, scowling at her. “You’re in this up to the neck. We’ve got to stick together now. Do you understand? We’ve got to stick together or we’re sunk.”
    A few minutes later the train stopped at Taleham Halt, which led directly to the golf course.
    “Come on,”