No Business of Mine

I got to my feet, walked the length of the room. “How the hell can I help you?” I asked. “They’ll find him here sooner or later. They’ll find out he was working for me. They’ll find out you’ve been hiding here. The only thing we can do is to tell this story to Corridan. It’s the only way, Netta. He’ll understand. He’ll help you.”

She stood up. “No! French will kill me before the police can do anything. If he doesn’t, they won’t believe me. I know they won’t. No one would believe me except you.” She put her arms around my neck, held me close. “Steve, I’m asking you to help me. I know you can do it. You can get me out of the country the way Peter Utterly got Selma out. We can go in a day or so. Before they find him.” She looked shudderingly over her shoulder. “Peter took Selma back in one of his friends’ aircraft. Can’t you do the same for me? Can’t you get me out of this after what we’ve been together?”

“Let me think,” I said, sat on the bed, lit another cigarette. I stayed like that for several minutes. Then I said, “Okay, Netta, I’ll do it. I’ll get you out of the country and then I guess we’re quits. I owe you something, but I didn’t think the price would be as steep as this. But I’ll do it.”

She fell on her knees beside me.

“But how will you do it?” she asked, gripping my hand.

“Harry Bik will get us out. Do you remember him? I brought him to the Club the night I first saw you. He’s shipping kites back to America every week. He’ll do it. He’s that kind of a guy. We’ll smuggle you on to the airfield, and get you across to the other side somehow. We’ll do it, Netta, don’t worry. When I say I’ll do it, I’ll damn well do it.”

She began to cry again, her face against my knee.

I played with her hair, stared at the framed picture of a cutie in yellow pants above the bed. The look in her eyes called me a sucker.

Maybe I was.

Chapter Nineteen

While Netta was packing a bag, I washed the glasses, wiped them free of finger-prints, put them and the bottle of Scotch back into the cupboard. With my handkerchief I picked up the blood-encrusted poker, washed it, put it back beside Littlejohns.

I entered the bedroom again to find Netta cramming her things into a big Revelation suitcase.

“There mustn’t be one thing left here that could lead them to you,” I said.

“I’ve packed everything,” she returned, closing the lid. “Sure?”

She looked around the room, nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay,” I said. “Now we have to think where you can go until I’ve fixed the plane. It may take a couple of days.”

“I know where to go,” she said. “I’ve been thinking while you were out of the room. I know now.”

I looked at her. “Where?”

“Madge Kennitt’s flat.”

I gaped at her. “What’s that?”

“Made Kennitt’s flat. No one would think of looking for me there.”

“For God’s sake!” I exclaimed. “Didn’t you know? She was murdered. You can’t go there.”

“Yes, I can. The place is empty, and the police have finished with it. Mrs. Crockett wouldn’t try to let it until the murder’s forgotten. It’ll be perfectly safe for the next three or four days. But that’s not the only reason why I’m going there. Madge laid in a stock of tinned food at the beginning of the war. I know where she hid it. I’m sure it’s still there. I’ve got to eat, and if I go there I don’t have to go out at all until you call for me.”

“You sure the food’s still there?”

“I think so. At least, I can go and see.”

I didn’t much like the idea, but agreed the food question was difficult.

“But how will you get in?”

“My key fits her lock. It fits Ju’s as well. They have all more or less the same locks on all the flat doors.”

“Well, all right,” I said. “But you’ll have to be damned careful.”

I suddenly realized that if Cole’s key opened Madge’s door, then he might have killed her; might have wiped out the name, Jacobi, that had been written in the dust. I filed that piece of information away for future reference.

“I’ll be careful,” she said.

“Okay, then that’s settled. When I’ve fixed things, I’ll come for you in a car. Be ready any night to move quick.”

She came to me, put her hands on my shoulders. Terror still lurked at the back of her eyes, but she was quieter, had a grip on her nerves.

“I can’t thank you enough, Steve,” she said. “Maybe I have been a fool since last we met, but I’m not bad — not really bad, and I never forgot you.”

I patted her shoulder, turned away.

“We’re both now in a hell of a mess,” I said soberly. “If we aren’t smart, and if we play our cards badly, we’re going to be in a real tough spot. Make no mistake about it. I wouldn’t do this for anyone but you, Netta.”

She slipped her hand into mine. “I know, and I shouldn’t let you do it, Steve,” she said. “I lost my head just now, but I’ve got over that now. If you want to back out, I shan’t blame you, and I’ll manage somehow. All my life I’ve had to manage. I can still go on fighting alone.”

“Forget it,” I said shortly. “We’re in this together. But there’s one thing that bothers me...”

She looked searchingly at me. “What, Steve?”