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

Ellis said, opening the carriage door, “and hurry.”
    He was aware of the danger of leaving the train at such a lonely station. They might easily be seen; their description recognised, but he had to risk that. He felt that if they were lucky and no one spotted them getting off the train, then they’d be safe for at least a day or so hidden somewhere on the golf course.
    They walked quickly across the platform to the station exit. There was no ticket collector at the gate. A notice asking passengers to hand their tickets to the booking clerk caught Ellis’s eye. A golfer, a heavy brown golf bag crammed with clubs slung over his shoulder, was rapping impatiently at the little glass window of the booking office. He eyed the waiting train anxiously.
    The booking clerk was fumbling for a ticket. Ellis grabbed Grace by her arm and bundled her past the ticket window into the tiny station yard. He expected someone to shout after them, but nothing happened. The clerk had been too preoccupied supplying the golfer with a ticket to notice them.
    Well, that was a bit of luck, Ellis thought. They hadn’t been seen and they hadn’t given up their tickets. The trail seemed well covered now.
    They walked up the steep gravel incline leading to the clubhouse. Ellis wondered if the place was shut for the night or whether any of the members were still there. As they reached the top of the hill, he saw the white squat building facing the eighteenth green. A light came through one of the uncurtained windows, but even as he saw it the light suddenly went out.
    He pushed Grace off the gravel path into the thicket. Startled, she gave a little cry and struggled feebly, looking at him in terrified anticipation.
    Ellis sneered at her. “I’m not going to hurt you, you fool; someone’s coming.”
    They crouched down in the thicket and waited. After some minutes a tall, beefy-looking man passed their hiding place. His cap was at the back of his head and his broad fat face was red and shiny. He whistled under his breath, and Ellis noticed that he carried an evening paper under his arm.
    When he had gone, Ellis and the girl approached the clubhouse.
    “Stay here,” he said to her, “and keep your eyes skinned. If you see anyone, let me know at once. I’m going to try to get in.” He took hold of her arm, pulled her close. “No tricks,” he said, staring at her intently. “You stay here and watch. You’ll be sorry if you try any tricks.”
    He left her standing by a clump of bushes, screening her from the lane, and walked cautiously round the building. He peered into the darkened rooms. There was no one in the building.
    He tried the front and back doors, but both were securely locked, so he selected a convenient window, broke a pane of glass with a stone, put his hand through the opening and lifted the latch. He swung himself through the window and dropped to the floor.
    Crossing the room, which appeared to be the Secretary’s office, he opened the door and stepped into the passage leading to the front entrance.
    There was a Yale lock on the front door and he opened the door without difficulty. He went quickly down the path to where he had left Grace. It came as a shock to him when he found she was no longer there.
    He stood looking round, a cold light in his eyes, his mouth half open. She couldn’t have gone far. It was unlikely that she had returned to the station. He looked at the sandy ground, saw her footprints. He judged from them that she had run off towards the little wood, half hidden by a line of bunkers, in which he had played so often as a child. Looking in that direction, he suddenly spotted her, a dark outline running blindly away from him.
    He went after her. As he pounded across the close-cut grass of the fairway, a murderous fury swamped his reason. He wanted to get his hands on her, beat her, stamp her into the ground, make her bleed. He shouted once or twice, then remembering that she couldn’t hear him, he saved his