Dead Reckoning Page #6

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in a hurry.

After my trouble to get Martinelli

out, this would be dandy.

I kept thinking, "It had

to be here somewhere. "

Up to now, everything

had gone like grief.

He had the letter.

He'd been working on it.

But he hadn't gotten very far

with his homework.

He was doing research on that letter

but good. The Leising Book of Codes.

Here was the real merchandise.

I recognized Johnny's writing.

Martinelli! Martinelli!

Then, suddenly,

I got a whiff of jasmine.

For a second I thought

it might have been...

It was like going out the jump door.

I was falling through space.

Count, sucker, and pull the ring.

One thousand. Two thousand.

Then, lights.

The ground batteries had picked me up.

I tried to side-slip the chute,

but I couldn't.

The lights got brighter,

blinding me.

He's coming to.

Go ahead and make with

the music, friend. We love it.

What's the letter say, friend?

- Tell us about it, friend.

- Quiet, Krause.

I haven't yet solved the code.

Repeat the message in the letter.

I hadn't read it yet.

I just started to

when you sapped me.

You place me in

an extremely distasteful position.

By nature, I'm a gentleman.

Truly gentle.

Brutality has always revolted me

as a weapon of the witless.

Like your friend Baretto.

Yes, and Krause here.

Although Krause's inclinations are

more psychopathic than intelligent.

He suffered an injury to his brain

once, and ever since then...

If you make me leave you to his

quiet whims, I will never forgive you.

Go take a flying jump for yourself.

I'd formed a higher opinion

of your ability to make decisions.

The rest is to dance time, friend.

You like music, friend?

I like music.

I love music.

I like all kinds of music.

Maybe he'll talk to you now, I think.

Prop him up in the chair

facing the wall.

I can't bear the sight

of your handiwork.

And don't put that

thing away, in case.

In case there's more music?

There he is, all tuned up for you.

That's better.

You're a stubborn man,

Mr. Murdock.

Your whole attitude,

I find thoroughly aggravating.

What time is it?

That seems a little beside the point.

It happens to be 10:45,

or thereabouts.

You're licked, Martinelli.

Quarter to 11, manager,

Hotel Southern...

...will phone me here.

- Don't fall for that.

- Shut up.

Yes, Mr. Murdock? Do go on.

I'm interested.

He's just making with the mouth.

Wrong, as usual.

Yes?

This is Mr. Martinelli.

No, Sanderson,

Mr. Murdock is not here.

I haven't seen him tonight.

That's the right answer.

Now you're really taken care of.

In what manner, if I may ask?

Sanderson's got a letter I wrote.

If I'm not back at the hotel by 11:15

to collect it myself...

...he's to call the police

and turn it over to them.

Are you going for that garbage?

And just what does this fascinating

letter contain, Mr. Murdock?

Evidence.

Evidence that a couple of cheap guns

named Martinelli and Krause...

...knocked off Johnny Preston

on the Tarpon Springs Road.

Correct me if I'm wrong.

Take him to the Hotel Southern.

Walk arm in arm, with your hand

on the gun in your pocket.

Go to the elevators, our bruised

guest's hat down over his face.

Murdock will call the manager

and tell him to bring the letter.

Station him in the bathroom.

He will call out to Sanderson

to give you the letter.

Bring the letter here,

with Mr. Murdock. Is that clear?

As glass.

Of course, there wasn't any letter.

I was kicking on the first down

and praying for a break.

It didn't look like there

was any coming up.

Hold it, you two! You, Murdock.

I've been chasing you for six blocks.

- Hello, lieutenant.

- What run over you?

Shake hands with my friend, Krause.

Lt. Kincaid, of the Homicide Squad.

Haven't I seen you around?

Frisk him, copper, he's got a gun!

The other guy, Murdock, follow him!

But they didn't get me.

Not yet, anyway.

- Then it's this man, Martinelli...

- Yes, Martinelli.

But as I've been telling it to you,

I've been thinking. I'm not so sure.

I remember there was a whiff of

jasmine before I was knocked out.

Maybe it was her.

Suddenly I got a feeling

I know it was.

Jasmine.

You're in a bad way.

Let me get you something.

- Thanks, anyway.

- A bit of brandy, at least.

If I ask Father Donlin,

he might find some in the rectory.

For medicinal purposes of course,

you understand.

It won't take me a minute.

I'll get it for you.

Before I see Father Donlin, just

how are we going to handle this?

The two of us, I mean.

Of course, my boy, you want me in

this with you, don't you? Don't you?

By all that's holy, he don't.

Rip, what have they done to you?

Come closer and you can see.

Come on, closer.

There, that's about right.

Get me a drink.

Tell me what happened, darling.

I heard of a girl once, kissed a guy

and stabbed him in the back.

I heard of another girl that kissed

a guy and blackjacked him.

Had the smell of jasmine in her hair.

In Martinelli's office, all around me,

just before the lights went out.

And when I woke up, they turned

the radio on and played music.

Mr. Krause likes music.

You like music, honey?

Was the window open?

Why don't you tell me about

the guy with the dream...?

The smell of jasmine is strong

in Martinelli's office.

Night-blooming jasmine grows

all through this part of the country.

You think fast,

don't you, sweetheart?

I ought to hate you

for thinking a thing like that.

But I can't.

You can say anything, do anything.

Oh, Rip, what does a girl

have to do with you?

- Turn inside out to make you see?

- You know, you do awful good.

I came here to...

But go ahead.

Tell me about paradise

and all the things I'm missing.

I haven't had a good laugh since

before Johnny was murdered.

I'm not the type that

tears do anything to.

I'm the brass-knucks-in-the-teeth-

to-dance-time type.

It's no use with you, is it?

Maybe the trouble is,

my name isn't Johnny.

I don't appreciate the finer things.

Like looking at a doll cry and taking

the rap for a murder she committed.

- Johnny didn't tell you that!

- Why shouldn't he?

You think I fell for that fancy tripe?

Let's have a new story, baby.

- You killed him, why lie?

- Because...

- It was exactly like I told you.

- Except for a few changes.

- Only the struggle.

- It was in your hands when it went off.

Yes, that's the way, Rip.

Your way, any way you want it.

I'm tired. I can't go on anymore.

For nearly four years,

being threatened by the police.

Since I came into Stuart's money,

hounded every day for more money.

I could stand Martinelli,

but when you turn against me...

How did he cut himself in?

I had to talk to somebody

when Johnny ran away.

I wanted to tell the police

it wasn't murder. That I did it.

But I was afraid,

because I hadn't said so before.

So you picked the worst hoodlum

in town.

He's always been nice. He gave me

a job when nobody else would.

He knows about courts.

He said they'd convict me.

And offered to get rid of the gun.

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