A Touch of Death

A Touch of Death by Charles Williams Page B

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Authors: Charles Williams
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car was among all the hundreds of others until something happened to it, or the driver did something wrong, and then it was in the center of the stage with all the spotlights on it. When we came into the first town I turned over one street to keep out of the lights, and went through as if we were driving on eggshells.
    I turned twice more, and we were back on the highway again. It was only thirty miles now.
    It had been over twelve hours since she was supposed to have fled. They might not actually expect her to be stupid enough to come back, but they’d have at least one man covering the place as a matter of routine. Maybe there’d be more. The money still hadn’t been found. They wouldn’t be taking any chances.
    Would he be in front? Or in back? Inside the house itself?
    We had to park the car far enough away so they wouldn’t hear it or see the headlights. And still we couldn’t walk around on the streets.
    “Is there another street or road in back of that one directly behind the house?” I asked.
    “Yes,” she said. “I’ll show you where to turn. There are no street lights there, and it’s mostly vacant lots.”
    She’d grown up in that house. I wondered how she felt about going back to it for the last time and knowing she’d never see it again if we got away. But whatever she felt, she kept it to herself. Then it occurred to me she had never seemed particularly bothered by the fact that her husband wasn’t around any more, either, or why he wasn’t. She wasn’t exactly the gushy type.
    “Where did they find him?” I asked.
    “I have no idea,” she said.
    “You don’t know?” I asked unbelievingly.
    “That’s right.” She appeared completely unconcerned. “You were the one who heard the news report. Remember?”
    It just didn’t add up. I had to believe her. She sounded as if she were telling the truth, and she had no reason to lie about it now. And she hadn’t known that his car had been abandoned right in front of the James girl’s apartment, either. An odd thought struck me then. Had she really killed him? But that was stupid. She’d as much as admitted it. She was paying me $120,000 to get her out of there and hide her from the police. For what—a parking ticket?
    “You don’t make much sense to me,” I said.
    “Really?” She lit a cigarette, and for an instant the flame of the match lit up the still, intensely beautiful face.
    “I wasn’t aware I was supposed to.”
    “Did you kill Butler?” I asked.
    “Perhaps you should read the terms of our contract
    again. I recall nothing in it about submitting to an inquisition.”
    “Have it your way,” I said. “I just work here.”
    “An excellent appraisal of your status. Incidentally, I might say that you have done very well so far, with only one or two exceptions.”
    “What exceptions?”
    “In the first place, you should have killed them instead of turning them loose. They can describe you; And in the second place, you have thrown away the only key I have to the house. It was attached to the car keys.”
    “We don’t need a house key,” I said. “We go in through one of the basement windows. And as far as their describing me, you know as well as I do they’re not going to the police. They can’t.”
    “Yes. But has it occurred to you they might be captured
    by the police?”
    “Sure,” I said. “But it’s just a chance we have to take.”
    “Needlessly.”
    “All right. Needlessly. But I’m doing the job, and I’ll do
    it my own way.”
    She said nothing. We came up the grade out of the river bottom.
    I’d had plenty of warning about her. But I didn’t realize it in time.

Chapter Ten
    We were nearly there. I could see the glow of lights against the sky.
    “Slowly,” she said. “We pass a cemetery on the right. And just beyond it there’s a road on the left. Turn there.”
    In a moment I could see the evergreen hedge of the cemetery. Two cars were coming up behind us. I slowed and let them go

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