A Killer is Loose by Gil Brewer

dismiss this time, ladies and gentlemen. We know there are three people: a woman known only as Lillian, a man from this city whom many of you doubtless know, Steve Logan, and Ralph Angers. Angers is the killer. So far he’s killed three and a woman is hanging by a thread. If Mrs. Graham lives and can talk some more, we’ll let you know. I repeat, they are driving a blue Dodge club coupé, license number”—Bill glanced at some notes on the desk—”four-W-one-one-eight-five-eight.”
    A car behind us began honking. The light was green. I put the Dodge in gear and we crawled ahead.
    Bill’s voice faded behind us. “Steve Logan’s wife is in the hospital, and if he hears this, he should make every effort possible to …” Then there wasn’t any more and we were in traffic headed down Central again.
    “Try not to worry about her,” Lillian said. “You must try, Steve.”
    I was choked with it. He’d been saying something about Ruby and I’d never know what. I stepped hard on the gas, driving down the center of the street.
    “Take it slower, pal,” Angers said. “They’ll pick us up for speeding.”
    “I’ve got to see my wife!”
    He leaned over the seat and rested his hand on my shoulder. “It’s not important,” he said. “You’re just excited, that’s all. Anybody would be, hearing a thing like that. Now get out of the business section. We don’t want to be picked up, because I’ve got to build the hospital, remember?”
    “Hospital! It’s crazy, can’t you see that? You can’t possibly think of doing such a damned thing. You’ll never get to first base with your damned hospital!”
    I wheeled the car left on First Street, heading north.
    He said nothing.
    “Take it easy, Steve,” Lillian said. “You’ve got to.”
    “Yeah, yeah,” I said.
    “Everything depends on this,” Angers said. “Now just keep driving on out here a way. It’s nice and quiet out here.”
    “Sure,” I said, and the bitterness was showing in my voice now. I looked over at Lillian and she was staring at me. She shook her head just a little and she was gnawing her lip again. She wasn’t sure what Angers would do if I began acting wrong. Well, I wasn’t sure, either. But I was getting fed up. Life is precious, sure. But after a while you get so you don’t care. You can get yourself worked up like that and not care a damn what happens. I was beginning to feel that way. I had to see Ruby, had to find out what was the matter over there.
    I was driving fast now, then I remembered about Lillian maybe making a try to get away. That was something important. I didn’t think she could make it now, and I didn’t want her to try. It was probably all she was thinking about. I turned down toward the bay. We drove along by the big park out there, the great expanse of lawn a dim, cool gray in the darkness. Way over there you could see the lights of Tampa, across the bay, glowing red and fading against the black night sky. The air smelled of salt now, and there was a steady freshening breeze coming in from the bay. There wasn’t much traffic out this way.
    “I needed this,” Angers said. “Driving is good for the brain. You think better. At least I do. It’s the motion of the car, I guess.”
    “Sure.”
    I reached out and gave Lillian’s thigh a hard squeeze. Twice I did it, then pointed emphatically at her door. She pressed my hand again with her cold fingers.
    In the rear-view mirror I could see Angers resting back against the seat, with his head thrown back.
    I began slowing the car a bit at a time, easy. We were coming along the end of the park now to where the street turned left along the bayou. At the end of the park were many palm trees and a lot of heavy shrubbery to the right.
    I touched Lillian’s leg again, and made motions with my hand, pointing up ahead, making a turn, then opening the door handle on the car door. She sat very rigidly. I looked over at her and I knew she had got it. It could be I was