The Pastor’s Daughter: Episode XXXV

I

About forty minutes later,  I was back in my apartment, trying to fix my bruises. I had dropped off Candace off at her apartment and had called Phorbus to hold everything until I had time to contact him again. I also told him that the only information he can put out to the news at the moment  was the arrest of councilman McCutchen by the police for a yet to be disclosed offense, since I knew his arrest will make headlines anyway. Meanwhile, the police told me that councilman McCutchen was still alive, but there was no hope for him. They said he may possibly die in an hour or so. They had rushed him to the hospital after the encounter at Brittany’s family house.

As soon as I finished putting a strip of plaster over a cut above my eye, my front door bell rang. It was Lieutenant Ludlum.

“Councilman McCutchen is asking for you,” he said. “He’s going fast. It’s important you come with me. I have a car outside.”

I followed him down to where his police car was parked. While we were driving to the hospital,  Lieutenant Ludlum said, “You seem to be having a lot of fun these days.  Lieutenant Reid telephoned me that it was you who put him on to Vito Roselli’s hide-out.”

“Believe me, Lieutenant,” I said. “I had indeed had too much fun these couple of days.”

He gave me a thoughtful stare.

“After you have talked with councilman McCutchen, I want to have a talk with you.”

Here it comes, I thought.

“No problem, Lieutenant,” I replied.

Nothing more was said until we reached the hospital where councilman McCutchen was admitted. Then Lieutenant Ludlum said, “I hope he’s still alive. His condition was very critical when I left him.”

We were taken immediately to a private ward where councilman McCutchen lay, guarded by two detectives. Fortunately for us, he was still alive. As we came into the room he opened his eyes and gave me a twisted grin.

“Hello Harry,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What’s up?” I asked, standing over him.

“Get these officers out of here,” he said. “I want to talk to you alone, if you don’t mind.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Lieutenant Ludlum said. “You talk in front of me or not at all.”

Councilman McCutchen looked at him.

“What’s the matter with you, Lieutenant?” he said. “If you want to know how Brittany Waters died, you’ll get out of here and take these assholes with you. I want to talk to Mr. Harry first. Then I’ll have something for   you.”

Lieutenant Ludlum hesitated, then shrugged.

“I’ll give you guys ten minutes,” he said. He then beckoned to the two detectives and went out. They followed him and closed the door behind them.

Councilman McCutchen looked at me.

“You’ve got a lot of balls, Harry,” he said. “I like the way you fight. I do like you for some reason, so I’m going to put you in the clear. I am going to tell them it was me who killed Brittany. As you already know, I’m dying minute by minute so they can’t do anything to me now. I’m not going to last much longer. But, I need a favor from you. If I tell them I did it, will you do me this favor?”

“It depends on what it is,” I said.

“Get rid of that film, Harry,” he said. As he said that, a spasm of pain ran through him and he shut his eyes. I must say this: I have never seen anyone as bold and as strong as this punk. Soon he opened his eyes, grinned savagely and said, “Will you give me your word you won’t show that film to anyone, including the police? It’s important to me, Harry.”

“As much as I would do that, I just can’t” I said.

“Why not?” he asked.

“The police must see it if it is anything to do with Brittany’s death,” I replied.

“Listen, Harry,” he said. “I’m going to tell them I killed her. That will close the case. You can watch the film yourself if you like. It’s not evidence: you’ll see what I mean after you watch it. But I want you to destroy it after you’ve seen it. Will you do that for me?” I noticed that every word made him sweat.

“Alright, no problem,” I said. “I will destroy it if I’m satisfied that it isn’t evidence.”

“You’ll give me your word?” he asked.

“You have my word,” I replied. “But I must be sure it isn’t evidence though.”

He managed to grin.

“Thanks, Harry,” he said. “You may now tell them to come in. I will give them a confession.”

“So long, McCutchen,” I said and gripped his hand.

“So long, Harry,” he replied. “It was stupid of me to involve you in this. I thought you were as dumb as a pig. I never know you had so much on the ball. Anyway, get them in here and hurry.”

I went out and told Lieutenant Ludlum that councilman McCutchen wanted him. Together with the two detectives, he went into the room and closed the door. I walked down the passage to the entrance door and waited there for Lieutenant Ludlum.

He came into the hall after about twenty minutes has passed.

“He’s gone,” he said quietly. “Look, Harry, I want to talk to you. Would you mind if we go to your apartment and talk?”

“Sure, we can,” I said.

I mean, at least he wasn’t taking me to the police station. When we got to my apartment and entered the lounge, I said, “You might like a drink?”

“I’ll have a rum if you have one,” Lieutenant Ludlum.

I felt easier in my mind since I knew he never drink on duty. I fixed a rum for him and a vodka for myself. We then sat down.

“Well, Harry,” he said. “Councilman McCutchen has given me a signed confession that he killed Ms. Brittany Waters. But, for some reasons, I believe that you were also at the vacation house at the time of her death. You have been identified by two witnesses. I think it’s time you tell me what really happened.”

I didn’t hesitate at all. Without holding anything back, I gave him the whole story. The only thing I didn’t tell him was that Mrs. Susan Waters had hired Revkin to watch Brittany. I said I thought Revkin’s client had been Reverend Waters himself.”

Lieutenant Ludlum listened without interrupting me. When I had finally finished, he looked at me for a long moment. Then, he said, “I think you have behaved very foolishly, Harry.”

I smiled at him.

“I agree,” I said. “But I think you would have done the same thing if you had been in my place. I know that I’ve lost my new job since all this is bound to come out at the inquest.”

Lieutenant Ludlum stroked his  nose.

“Not really,” he said. “Councilman McCutchen said that he was the Graham Reed, the guy that Brittany planned to spend a month with at the vacation house in Atlantic City. I don’t see why I shouldn’t be satisfied with that story. After all, you gave us the information about Vito Roselli and you have always been helpful in the past. I am satisfied with your own version of the story too, so I don’t see why you should be penalized. Councilman McCutchen said he caught Brittany taking a film of Vito Roselli’s vacation house. I’m sure you already know that Vito Roselli  is his father. Apparently, Vito Roselli was on the terrace. Councilman McCutchen realized that this film could be used to blackmail his father. He went to the vacation house where Brittany was staying later that day. He got the camera from her and ripped out the film. Then he slapped her, just to teach her a lesson. As he tried to slap her again, she jumped back and fell over the open window at the second floor of the house. If I tell the coroner we are satisfied with this explanation, there is no doubt in my mind that he will be satisfied too. I don’t see why you should suffer because of a girl like Brittany. But to be on a safer side though, don’t say anything that will involve yourself with Ms. Brittany, okay?”

“It is not that simple, Lieutenant,” I said. “Now councilman McCutchen is dead, there is nothing to stop Mr. Revkin trying to blackmail me again. He could tell Reverend Waters.”

Lieutenant Ludlum gave a wintry smile.

“No need to worry about Mr. Revkin,” he said. “Councilman McCutchen gave me enough evidence to put Mr. Revkin away for years. He has already been arrested.”

I suddenly realized that I was in the clear. I could not believe it! I’m free at last! I was out of a jam that, a few hours ago,  I thought was impossible ever to get out of.

“Thanks a lot for this, Lieutenant,” I said. “I won’t forget this. I won’t say anything to Reverend Waters, so no worries. If I have any luck I’ll be moved  to our Trenton office.”

He got to his feet.

“You don’t worry me, Mr. Harry. Friends should be able to help one another at times like this.”

As soon as he left, I took from my pocket the carton of film and examined it. What did it contain? I wondered. After thinking for about five minutes, I remembered that Marcus Evans had a projector  for films like this one. So, I called him and asked him if I can use it for an hour.

“It’s all set up in my apartment, Harry,” he said. “Go around there and help yourself. The janitor knows who you are so he will let you in. I would have come around and show you how it works but I have plenty of work here and can’t get away until late.”

“Don’t worry yourself,” I said. “I can handle it and, thanks a lot.”

I hung up and half an hour later, I was in Marcus Evans’ apartment with Brittany’s film threaded into the projector. Turning off the lights, I started the film.

Brittany certainly knew how to take photographs. The scenes of Atlantic City that flashed on the screen were first class. From the busy city restaurants, stores, and offices, the scene changed to her vacation house, and then to the front of Vito Roselli’s  vacation house. With my heart thumping, I sat forward, watching the screen fixedly. Then suddenly there was a long shot of Vito Roselli’s vacation house. I could barely see two men on the terrace. Then the scene switched to a close-up by Brittany’s powerful telephoto lens. There was Vito Roselli, easily recognizable, talking to councilman McCutchen, and, a moment later, Grace Roselli joined them. So councilman McCutchen had told Lieutenant Ludlum the truth. He must have spotted Brittany as she took this shot, went to her vacation house to confront her, snatched the camera out of her hand and given her a back-hand slap that had sent her off the window. If that is the case, then why had he been so anxious that I shouldn’t show this film to anyone even though he had already told Lieutenant Ludlum what had happened?

I got the answer in the next shot. From the terrace the scene changed to the back of the vacation house. Councilman McCutchen was standing with his back to the camera, looking at the sea. He suddenly turned and his face lit up. Then the camera moved away from him to the direction where he was looking.

A young lady was coming along a path that led to behind the vacation house. She waved at councilman McCutchen, who went to meet her. He put his arms around her, pulled her to him and kissed her. Although this shot lasted about twenty five seconds, it was the most surprising and interesting part of Brittany’s film. By the time the shot ended, I was standing up, staring at the screen, scarcely believing my eyes.

The young lady in councilman McCutchen’s arms was Susan Waters!

II

Reverend Waters and his wife arrived at the Marriott hotel on the afternoon of the Friday before the inquest. He and I spent almost two hours talking about Brittany’s case. I told him the story of Brittany’s past and her life in Atlantic City and Middle River. I let him read some of Revkin’s reports, having taken the report concerning myself out of the file. I told him councilman McCutchen was the man known as Graham Reed.

Reverend Waters listened and read the report while sipping a glass of red wine, his face expressionless. When I was through, he tossed Revkin’s  file on the table, got to his feet and walked over to the window.

“You did a good job, Harry,” he said. “As you can imagine, this has been a shock to me. It still didn’t make sense to me why councilman McCutchen, a member of my Parish Council, who was politically weaned from my teats should do this to my daughter of all people. See what I mean? But the one that shocked me most was my own daughter’s lifestyle. I had no idea that Brittany could behave like this. Well, I guess she had learned her lesson by now, wherever she is. The thing to do now is to hide this scandal from the press.”

I knew that that would be impossible, but I didn’t tell him so.

“I will have a word with this coroner fella,” Reverend Waters went on. “I’m sure he can play it down. I will talk to Atlantic City police chief too. Burn those report today, Harry. You’ve done your job here. Will you be ready to come to Trenton with me after the inquest? You are going to be in charge of our office there.”

“I’ll have a few things to tidy up first, Reverend Waters,” I said. “I can be in Trenton by Monday week.”

“Do that.” He came away from the window. “I’m pleased with you, Harry. It’s better for the good-for-nothing councilman to have died. I know that, as a reverend, I shouldn’t say that. But he killed my daughter, so why should I care? Let me go and see this coroner fella now.”

I did not volunteer to go with him. I told myself that that would be unnecessary. I, however, did went downstairs with him to where the Cadillac was waiting and saw him drive off, then I crossed over to the reception desk and asked the clerk to send my name up to Mrs. Susan Waters. He made the call and told me she is waiting for me.

Susan Waters was sitting by the window when I reached their suite upstairs, looking out over the harbor.  She turned her head as I entered the small sitting room. I was a little uncomfortable since her eyes looked steadily at me.

“Reverend Waters is happy with my findings,” I said, closing the door and moving over to join her at the window. “He wants me back in Trenton as quickly as possible to take over their office there.”

“My congratulations, Mr. Harry,” she said. “But why tell me?”

“Because I need your approval first,” I said.

She raised her eyebrows.

“My approval?” she asked. “Why do you need my approval?”

“I won’t take the job you don’t approve, for obvious reason.”

She looked away, took out a Newport cigarette and lit it.

“I don’t understand, Mr. Harry,” she said. “I’m not really involved in my husband’s business affairs.”

“Since you know I am the man called Graham Reed, I’m naturally anxious to know if you intend to tell your husband.”

I saw her hands turn into fists.

“I mind my own business, Mr. Harry. Brittany meant nothing to me. So, I have no interest in her lovers.”

“I wasn’t her lover,” I said. “Does that mean you are not going to tell your husband?”

“Yes.”

When she said that, I took the carton of film out of my pocket.

“I believe you will want to destroy this.”

She turned quickly, and I could see that her face was drained of color.

“I don’t get it. Why in the world should I want to destroy it?”

“If you don’t, I guess I will have to do it myself. Councilman McCutchen asked me to get rid of it. However, I thought you might want to do it yourself.”

She drew in a deep breath.

“So that asshole did take another film.” She got to her feet and started to move around the room.  “I’m sure you’ve seen what is in it?”

“Yes. Councilman McCutchen told me to look at it.”

She turned, and from the way she looked, I thought she was about to faint, but she managed to smile.

“So we now have some shared secrets, Mr. Harry? I won’t give you away. Now, what are you going to do about me? Are you going to tell my husband.

I shook my head, and then offered her the film again.

“You’ll have trouble destroying it,” I said. “It doesn’t burn easily. My suggestion is that you cut it in pieces and flush it down the drain.”

She took the carton.

“Thank you, Mr. Harry,” she said, and sat down. “My husband tells me McCutchen confessed to killing Brittant.”

“That’s right.” I replied.

“No one killed her,” she said. “McCutchen only said that to keep the police from investigating further.”

“You lost me there,” I said.

“I’m sure that, by now, you already know we were lovers,” she began. “I also want you to know about this: I believe I was the only person in the world that McCutchen treated decently. We knew each other in Trenton when I was a singer at the Jupiter Night Club. I had known him long before I met Reginald Waters, my husband. I know he was crude, brutal and dangerous, but he did have his good side. He meant the world to me. I was crazy about him. I’m one of those ladies who are turned on by dangerous men, you know, gangsters. And, I don’t apologize for that. That’s who I am. Anyway,  I wrote him love letters which he kept. You remember Aquiles Gomez got rid of Vito Roselli? McCutchen told me he would have to go back to Baltimore with Vito Roselli. I thought I would never see him again. So when Reginald Waters proposed to me, I accepted. But the truth is that I married him because I was sick of singing in a cheap night club and of always being short of money. Well, I’ve regretted it ever since, but then that’s shouldn’t concern you.”

“Certainly not,” I said.

She smiled bitterly.

“Look, Mr. Harry,” she continued. “And, I’m not ashamed to say it,  I do love money a lot. So at the moment Reginald Waters, my husband, is very important to me.” She paused, and then asked, “I hope this doesn’t make you hate me? It does me often.”

I didn’t say anything.

“You know Brittany was Aquiles Gomez’s mistress,” she went on. “McCutchen found out she was on drugs. He told his father Vito Roselli that he could get at Aquiles Gomez through Brittany. So Vito sent him back to Trenton. I was carried away by my love for him, and I couldn’t keep away from him. Brittany saw us together. When McCutchen approached her to sell Aquiles Gomez out, she agreed. She went to McCutchen’s house while she was negotiating her price. Somehow she got hold of some of my love letters to him while she was at his house. We only found this out much later. For seven thousand dollars she let McCutchen into Aquiles Gomez’s apartment. Honestly, I didn’t know anything about this until I met McCutchen weeks later at the vacation house where Brittany died. It was she who told me.”

“I didn’t ask for all this information, Mrs. Waters,” I said. “All I want to know is how Brittany died.”

“Listen, Mr. Harry,” she replied. “It won’t make any sense without the dirty details.”

“Alright then,” I said. “ Go on.”

“Brittany began to blackmail me,” she continued. “She told me she had my love letters to McCutchen, and if I didn’t give her a hundred and fifty dollars a week, she would hand them over to her father, my husband. I paid up, since I could afford it. I knew Brittany was living a rotten lifestyle, and it occurred to me that I could force her to return the letters to me if I could get something on her. When she went to Middle River, I instructed  the Pinkerton’s Investigation Agency to watch her and report back to me. When I learned that she had taken a vacation house in the name of Mrs. Graham Reed, and was going to live there with some man, I decided this was my chance. My plan was to go there, confront her and threaten to tell her father about it if she didn’t give me those letters. I told Reginald I wanted to do some shopping in London. He hates shopping and, not only that, he was very busy. He told me to go ahead and enjoy myself. I went to London, then on to Atlantic City. I went to the vacation house, but Brittany was not there. I decided to check back on her later that day. Meanwhile, I went to the McCutchen dad’s  vacation house to see if he was there. And, sure enough, I found him there. Brittany must have been up there too, out of sight, with her camera. She must have taken pictures of us spending time together. That’s probably what she had in this film, right?”

“Well,” I said. “There’s a  twenty-five seconds’ shot of you and councilman McCutchen meeting. But then,  this shot is on the last few feet of film. So she must have gone back to the villa after taking the film, put in a new film, drop the completed film into the mail box that is outside the vacation house, then came back to McCutchen dad’s  vacation house in the hope of getting more shots of you two.”

“You are right,” she said. “That is what must have happened. McCutchen heard the motor of the camera running. He caught Brittany. Both of them argued for a while, and she left angrily in a motorboat, cursing. I took McCutchen to her vacation house. Since her door was open, we went in and joined her at the room in the second floor. Again, there was a dreadful scene as McCutchen and Brittany argued with each other. She told me that McCutchen had shot Aquiles Gomez. She threatened to tell the police. She said she had taken pictures of Vito Rosellion the terrace of the vacation house, and she insisted  McCutchen would have to pay for the film if he didn’t want her to hand it to the police. She was screaming and raving, and I thought she was completely out of her mind. McCutchen slapped her face, and wanted to give her another slap. She turned and ran towards the window. It was crazy. She kept running until she went over the window. I knew she didn’t herself because I was convinced she didn’t see where she was going. She completely lost control. McCutchen didn’t kill her either. You must believe me, Mr. Harry.”

I ran my fingers through my hair.

“I do believe you,” I said. “But I have a question for you though: McCutchen took the film out of the camera but he didn’t remember to look in the mail box?”

“The mail box never crossed our minds. When I got back to Trenton my mind kept telling me that she might have more films elsewhere. McCutchen called me later in the evening and I told him to go back to Brittany’s vacation house and destroy all the films he could find just in case she had taken others. That’s probably when you were there. He also went to our house in Middle River, where he found the letters she had taken. These were the letters I had written to him. He destroyed them too. I want you to know that I had no idea he was trying to put you in trouble, Mr. Harry. You must believe me. McCutchen was always good to me, but I know he was a bad guy. What can I say? I was crazy to be in love with him.”

There was a long pause as she stopped speaking and stared out of the window.

“I appreciate your telling me all this,” I said. “Believe me, I understand the jam you were in and I know how you must have felt. Brittany got me in a jam too.” I got to my feet. “You go ahead and destroy that film. Nobody, including myself, know what will come out of the inquest yet. But your husband said he will take care of it. I think he’ll probably succeed. You need not worry about me – my mouth is sealed.”

Reverend Waters did take care of the inquest like he said. The verdict was willful murder against councilman McCutchen Smith, with insufficient evidence to show motive. The press were given limited information, and were warned not to be too inquiring. Lieutenant Ludlum was vague in his press conference. I was not only surprised but was also impressed about how the whole affair evaporated into a puff of smoke.

I didn’t see Susan Waters again while she was in Atlantic City. She and Reverend Waters left as soon as the inquest was over and I returned to Middle River.

On getting to my office, I saw that Candace was there on her own.

“I will need to pop a Champaign, Candace” I said to her. “This Brittany business is over and I’m in the  clear. I will go down to our Trenton office on Friday.”

She managed to smile, although I knew she wasn’t happy since she won’t see me like before anymore.

“I’m sure that’s what you want, right?” she said.

“Sure,” I replied. “It’s what I want, so long as I don’t go alone. I want to take something of Middle River with me.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Such as?” she asked.

“I need to go there with something beautiful and smart,” I said. “Will you marry me, Candace? Do you have a place in your heart for an undesirable like me?”

She jumped to her feet.

“Oh, yes, sweetheart! Yes – yes! I love you to death, Harry!”

I didn’t know when I took her in my arms, and I was kissing her when Phorbus came in.

“Well, well, well,” he said, sourly. “I wonder why I never thought of doing that.”

“Too late,” I said, waving him to his office and drawing Candace close. “You missed your bus!”

THE END

The Pastor’s Daughter: Episode XXXIV

Candace’s reflexes worked a lot faster than mine. He knows who councilman McCutchen was. Who doesn’t? I mean everyone that works in a Baltimore area newspaper house knew all the Baltimore City council members, even though councilman McCutchen is unrecognizable whenever changes to his criminal personality. Anyway, as soon as she saw him, Candace   whipped the carton into her bag and was on her feet by the time councilman McCutchen was half-way across the lounge. She made a dash for the bedroom door.

Snarling, councilman McCutchen jumped forward, his fingers reaching for her. I tried to stop him as he passed me. I shot out my foot and hooked his legs from under him. When I did that, he sprawled headlong, his fingers closing on Candace’s blouse. The thin material tore from her shoulder as she gave a frantic twist of her body and broke free. She then dashed into the bedroom and slammed the door. Both councilman McCutchen and I heard the key turn.

There was no way Candace escape from that bedroom without breaking the window glasses. And I’m sure she’s not going to do that. The good thing was  that the door was solid. Councilman McCutchen would have to break it down.

I was thinking about all these as I heaved myself out of the chair I was sitting in. Councilman McCutchen was still sprawled on the floor, cursing the entire world. From my previous experience fighting him, I knew it will be a big mistake to fight him without a weapon. So, jumping across the room to the fireplace, I grabbed a heavy steel poker. As I turned, I saw he was already on his feet.

We faced each other.

“Okay, you useless betrayer,” he shouted. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson you’ll never forget!”

I waited for him.

He crouched, and began to move slowly forward, with his big hands held out before him, and his thick fingers hooked. He circled a little to my side, his eyes vicious and intent. I turned slightly and positioned  the poker in readiness for his rush. I knew then that the only way I could stop him will be to land one good smash on his head.

Unfortunately, I underestimated his speed. I have fought him before, so I knew he was fast. I, however, didn’t realize just how fast he could be until he suddenly dived for my knees.

His shoulder crashed against my thighs as I brought down the poker. It missed his head and landed across his shoulders. We went down together with a thump that rocked the room, and I felt as if a house had fallen on me.

Letting go of the poker, I drove my fist into his face. Even though I couldn’t get much weight behind the punch, it did sent his head back. Thinking that another punch will weaken him, I aimed my fist at his throat. But I was unlucky this time: my fist sailed past his head as he twisted aside. He hit me on the forehead with a clubbing punch that dazed me.

With great difficulty, and using all the energy I had, I was able to get my hand under his chin and heaved him off me. He aimed another punch at my head, but I blocked it with my right arm. I then kicked him so hard on the chest that he crashed against the settee that shot across the room and mowed down an occasional table and a standard lamp.

He jumped up and rushed at me, but I was on my feet in time to meet his rush. We collided like two fighting bulls. It wasn’t a pleasant experience at all – I can tell you that. I hit him on the side of his jaw, but my punch wasn’t a match for the one he gave me in the ribs that turned me sick.

He backed away, probably to prepare for a more aggressive attack. I looked at his face and saw that it was contorted with a savage rage. I steadied myself and waited for his attack. As he came in, showing his teeth in a snarling grimace, I hit him in the face, jolting his head back. I moved aside as he countered with a punch that swished past my jaw. This move brought him forward, and I hit him again on the side of his head. My punch threw him off balance for a brief moment but he recovered quickly and crowded me, bashing my ribs with four short-arm blows that thumped the breath out of me. Again, using all the energy in me, I broke away from him and jumped behind an armchair. He looked as if he had regained his confidence and strength. He rushed at me again and I shoved the chair at him, spoiling his rush. He cursed and threw another punch at me. His blow missed me and I was very glad that it did.

Punch for punch, I knew he was too strong for me. I don’t stand a chance at all. He hit with the force of a sledge hammer. Not only that, every time he hit me, I weakened.

So I began to back away from him. But he was so mad with rage that he, I believed, wanted to teach me a lesson I will never forget. With blood trickling down his chin from a cut lip, he moved towards me. As he came within reach, I hit him on the nose with my left fist. But the blow didn’t stop him. He hit back, and his fist exploded in my face. His punch carried a lot of weight and I felt my knees sag. As I threw up my hands to protect my face, he hit me again on the stomach and I went down with a crash.

The pain in my stomach was very unbearable, and I expected him to finish me up. I was, however, both wrong and lucky. He was so anxious to get at Candace that he left me and charged across the room. He kicked at the bedroom door lock. The door split, but the lock held. I heard the crash of breaking glass from inside the room. I also heard  Candace screaming out of the broken window at the top of her voice.

I managed to get to my feet. My legs felt like rubber sticks and I could barely walk. But I told myself I must do something, at least to protect Candace. As he set himself for another kick at the lock, I reeled forward and flung my arms around his neck. I then dragged him backward, after somehow getting a lock on his throat with my arms. The problem was that holding him was like holding on to a wild bear. He was just too strong for me.

With his strong arms, he took my arms off his throat and drove his elbow into my body. He then turned and closed his fingers on my throat. The thought of leaving Candace to face this animal energized me and, getting my hands under his chin, I exerted pressure. For a brief moment we remained motionless, with his fingers squeezing my throat and my hands slowly wedging his head back. I was convinced that my hold hurt him more than his hurt me because he let go and heaved backwards, scrambled to his feet as I got up on to my knees.

He came after me again and swung a punch. I saw it coming but I was too weak to dodge it. Lights exploded before my eyes and I went down like a log of wood.

For maybe three or four seconds, I remained out and would have loved to stay that way to avoid further attack by him. The sound of the bedroom door crashing open and a wild scream from Candace brought me around. I staggered up and looked at the poker lying on the floor near me. I picked it up and staggered across the room into the bedroom.

Councilman McCutchen had Candace flat on her back across the bed. One of his hands gripped her throat and he was shouting: “Where the hell is the film? Come on! Let me have it now or…”

I swung the poker. Councilman McCutchen half-turned, but he was a shade too late. The poker came down on top of his head  and his hand slid off Candace’s throat. He slipped sideways and, deciding not to take any chances, I hit him again. He spread out on the floor.

I dropped the poker, stepped over him and leaned over Candace.

“Are you okay, Candace?” I said. “Did he hurt you?”

She looked up at me, her face white. Although she tried to smile, I could see that she was pretty shaken.

“He didn’t get it, Harry,” she gasped, and then she began to cry.

“What’s going on here?” I heard a voice say at the door.

I looked over my shoulder and saw two policemen standing in the doorway. One of them was holding a .357 Magnum double-action revolver in his right hand.

“Not much at the moment,” I said, making an effort to keep upright. “This man broke in here and started causing lots of trouble. I’m Harry Payne of the Middle River Times. Lieutenant Ludlum knows me.”

At the mention of Lieutenant Ludlum’s name, the policemen’s faces brightened. Then they looked at councilman McCutchen, and one of them exclaimed, “Wait a minute, isn’t councilman McCutchen of Baltimore City?”

“Sure – that’s him,” I replied.

“What is he doing here?” he said.

“Search me,” I replied. “I had no idea.”

“You do understand this could be touchy and messy,” the other policeman, the taller one said. “He is a city councilman…”

“I don’t care who he is,” I snarled. “He came in here and started to attack us. All I know is that he is not above the law. Do your job.”

“So, you wanna press charges then?”

“Yes, I do,” I said. “Get him out of here, will you? I will have a clean up and then I will join you guys at the police station.

One of the policemen, the shorter one, went over to councilman McCutchen. He caught hold of his left hand and dragged him upright. That was a big mistake. I had already learned the danger of getting close to councilman McCutchen when he is sore and I started to shout a warning.

Councilman McCutchen came to life. His right fist shot out and hit the policeman very hard in the jaw, sending him crashing into the other policeman.

Councilman McCutchen came to his feet. He gave me a shove and I fell on the bed, and he then dived out of the room.

One of the policemen, the one with the gun in his hand, recovered his balance. He swung around, lifted his gun and fired. I saw councilman McCutchen stagger, but he reached the front door as the policeman fired again.

Councilman McCutchen dropped on hands and knees. He turned his head and looked at me. His face was a savage mask of pain and fury. I had no sympathy for him at all, not that it will matter anyway. Somehow, he was able to hurl himself to his feet. I was surprised that he still had the strength to do that after being shot two times. Anyway, he took three tottering steps out on to the corridor and stood swaying at the head of the steps that led to outside the house.

The policeman with the gun moved slowly towards him.

Again, councilman McCutchen looked past him at me. I saw his face twist into a ghastly attempt at a grin. As I was trying to figure out why he was grinning, his eyes suddenly rolled back and his knees buckled. He toppled backwards and landed on the floor of the corridor with a crash that shook the building.

END OF EPISODE XXXIV

P.S. Episode Thirty-Five  will be published here next Monday.

The Pastor’s Daughter: Episode XXXIII

Back in Middle River, around nine o’clock the following morning, and still in bed, I called Phorbus Taylor again. He said he had had a call from our Trenton office for more details of Vito Roselli’s life in Atlantic City and in Baltimore, and could I do anything about it? I said it might be an idea if he went to Atlantic City instead of me.

“I would love to,” he said, “but Candace’s not in today. She’s fooling around with the stuff at Brittany’s family house. I just can’t leave the office without someone to handle the telephone calls, at least.”

“So Candace is not there now?”

“She asked for the day off. She will be at Brittany’s family house around ten o’clock. She said Reverend Waters wanted the place cleared.”

“She’s right,” I said. “That’s what the Reverend does want. Anyway, I’ll go over there and send her back so you can get off.”

“I’m surprised you don’t want to handle this yourself,” Phorbus said. “This story is a score: it’s the biggest story  in years.”

"As you are taking over the Middle River office,” I said, “this is now your story. I will get Candace  back to you at, say, half-past eleven. There’s a train to Atlantic City at two o’clock. So it’s important  you get yourself a reservation before it’s too late.”

“I will do that pronto,” he replied.

I got out of my bed, took a shower, shaved and dressed. Then I drove down to Brittany’s family house and rang the bell. Candace opened the door.

“Hello Harry,” she said, smiling.

“What’s up,” I said, and following her into the lounge, I went on, “You having enough fun here?”

“Fun?” she said. “I’m working my ass off here! That’s not my idea of fun Harry. Anyway, I’m packing now. There’s so much to clear. I hope to be done in about half an hour.”

“So you have gotten rid of it all, then?”

“Yes.” She sat on the arm of one of the chairs and looked at me. “What’s been happening Harry?”

I dropped into a chair near to hers.

“Plenty,” I said. I went on to tell her about the capture of Vito Roselli. “Phorbus wants to get down to Atlantic City. He’s waiting at the office now for you to relieve him. You’d better get off, Candace. Leave the rest of these stuff here for me. I will take care of them.

“There’s plenty of time,” she said. “You just said he’ll catch the two o’clock train. Harry, how did you know that Vito Roselli was in this vacation house?”

I looked at her.

“Does it bother you?” I said.

“Not really,” she replied. “But I’m asking you, Harry. It’s too good to be true. I mean, you are smart enough to know that. Every policeman in Trenton and Baltimore area has been looking for Vito Roselli. Then  you find him. So, let me ask you again: how did you know he was there? If I don’t ask you, sooner or later the police will.”

She is right, I told myself. And, now she had put the question, I was surprised that Lieutenant Reid  hadn’t asked me.

“I could see the sense in that,” I said. “But it’s a very long story.”

“I want to hear it, Harry,” she replied. “You have deliberately kept  away from me. You think I didn’t know, right? Please don’t deny it. It will hurt me more if you do. You are involved somehow in this Brittany business, aren’t you?  You knew she was calling herself Mrs. Graham Reed. There’s something wrong somewhere, Harry. And I’m worried. I want you to tell me now.”

“I don’t want you to get involve, Candace,” I said. “Stop asking questions. Brittany was murdered. I didn’t kill her but, for some reasons, the police have an idea that I did. See? I can’t tell you anything without getting you involved.”

Her small hands turned into fists.

“Why should I care?” she said. “I want to know. Harry, please. What kind of trouble are you in?”

“I’m in a lot of trouble, Candace. But I can’t tell you the details without making you an accessory, see? That will be unfair of me. So, you’ve got to keep clear of it.”

“Did Brittany mean anything to you?”

I hesitated.

“At one time I think she did, but not when I found out how rotten she was. I was so stupid…”

“Don’t say it,” she said. “I know how it was. Just tell me what happened Harry.”

“I can’t!” I got to my feet and wandered over to the window. “I put myself into this mess, and so I should face the music alone.”

“Are you scared Reverend Waters will find out?”

“I’ve got beyond that. He’s offered me the job to be in charge of Trenton Office. When he finds out that I fooled around with his daughter, I won’t get it. The Trenton Office job is important to me, Candace.”

“You’ll leave Middle River?”

“That was the idea,” I replied. “But it looks now as if I won’t have a job at all as soon as Reverend Waters knows what I’ve been up to.”

The silence in the room was so sharp that I turned and looked at her. My God! Her eyes were full of unshed tears and she had lost color.

“Don’t look like that Candace,” I said. “The end of the world hasn’t come yet.”

“Not to you perhaps,” she said.

For the first time since I had known her I realized what this beautiful girl really meant to me. I went over to her and put my hands on her hips. Then, pulling her to me, I said, “Okay, you win. I’m in a hell of a mess. And, I should drown on it alone because it’s my own stupid fault. I just don’t feel it’s fair for me to drag you into it by telling you too much. Like I said before, they could hang an accessory rap on you if you know too much.”

“You don’t understand, Harry,” she said, beginning to cry. “Do you think I care about all that? It’s you I care about, Harry.”

My lips came down on hers as she raised her face, which was glistening with tears. We stood like that for a long moment. I remembered my experience with Brittany. I became scared and gently pushed her back.

“This isn’t the right way, Candace,” I said. “I guess I must have been crazy to have chased after Brittany – that crazy tramp. Anyway, it’s too late now. No need to cry over spilled milk. I’ve got to pay the price for what I did. Keep clear of me, Candace. You must stay away from an undesirable like me.”

She smiled at me and then moved her fingers up into my hair.

“I can help you if you let me, Harry,” she said. “I know I can. Do you want me to?”

“I want you to stay away from me. I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me.”

“Harry, do you love me a little? You know me very well, but do I mean a thing to you?”

“Of course you do! It was stupid of me to take this long to find out.” I pulled her to me again. “But that’s beside the point, Candace. I will need a lot of luck to survive this problem that I have. Lieutenant Ludlum is more or less convinced that I’m the guy he’s looking for.”

“But, can you do me a favor? Can you tell me what really happened? Please don’t keep anything back. Start right from the very beginning. I’d like to know.”

I sat down and told her. I didn’t hold a thing back – I gave her the whole story, starting from the day Brittany arrived in Middle River.

She sat listening, her face pale. When I had finished, she said, “Oh my, it’s been dreadful for you!”

“Yes – it has been bad, but then I brought it on myself. If I could only pin Brittany’s death on councilman McCutchen I could be in the clear. But it’s a hard nut to crack, and I just can’t see how I’m going to do it.”

“Your story rings true, Harry,” she said. “You must tell Lieutenant Ludlum the whole story just as you’ve told it to me. I’m sure he’ll understand. It’s very important that you tell him.”

I shook my head.

“The evidence against me are numerous. Now don’t get me wrong: I should have told him before. But I didn’t. So, if I tell him now, he’ll think I lost my nerves and I’m trying to get out of this problem. In the end, he’ll arrest me and then I won’t be able to get after councilman McCutchen. I’ve got to take care of councilman McCutchen myself if possible.”

“No, please, Harry. You must tell Lieutenant Ludlum. I’m so sure it’s the only thing to do that I can bet on it.

“Well, I will think about it, to please you since you insisted. I’m not ready to tell him yet”

“Harry! I’ve suddenly remembered something,” Candace  said, jumping to her feet. “Yesterday while I was here the postman brought a carton of film addressed to Brittany.”

I stared at her.

“A carton of film!”

“Yes,” she said. “She must have sent it  to be processed.”

My heart started thumping painfully.

“Are they with you here?”

“Yes,” she said, opening her handbag and taking out a yellow carton. “It may be a film she took in Atlantic City.”

As she said that, she held out the carton to me. I was about to reach for it when the door swung open and we both turned quickly.

Councilman McCutchen stood in the doorway, and he grinned widely.

“Let me have that,” he said. “I have been waiting for the damn thing to turn up for days. Come on, give it here, or else…”

END OF EPISODE XXXIII

P.S. Episode Thirty-Four  will be published here next Monday.

The Pastor’s Daughter: Episode XXXII

As his arm tightened on my throat, cutting the air from my lungs, I realized that my attacker, who was probably the one they called Michael, was stronger than I was. Already my lungs felt as if they were bursting and I was fighting for breath. Since he was bending me back, with his knee grinding into my spine, I couldn’t get at him. I told myself that the only way out of a hold like this is to pretend to pretend to loose consciousness, and that was exactly what I did: I let myself go limp, allowing my legs to buckle and collapsing on my knees. Doing that allowed me to arch my back and bring him forward.

He cursed and then viciously tightened his grip on my throat. I made a desperate effort to heave him over my head but that didn’t work at all because he was too heavy for me. So rather than heaving him over my head as I tried to do, my effort only unbalanced us both and together we rolled into the sea.

The shock of landing in the water loosened his hold on my throat. Moving very fast, I caught hold of his wrist and peeled his arm off my throat. And, fighting like a mad dog, I twisted around so that I faced him and then I drove my hand under his chin. This blow sent him over on his back, and I broke free of him and rose to the surface, gasping for air.

The only thing that worried me then was that he may shout for help. It would be to dangerous for me if he does that. It was very important to prevent him from letting those at the vacation house  know I had been up there, at all cost. So I waited for him to come up. Soon he bubbled up within a few yards of me. I had a better advantage here because I saw him before he could shake the water out of his eyes. Without wasting any time, I dived under him and, holding one of his legs, I dragged him down the water.

He kicked so violently that I had to let go of his leg. We both came to the surface together and I could just see his snarling mouth as he came at me and lifted his right hand out of the water. I saw a flash of steel and knew immediately what he planned to do to me. So, I threw myself sideways, and his knife blade missed me by inches. I dived, and when I came to the surface  again I saw the dark form of his body within reach. This is my moment, I said to myself. I grabbed him around his waist, pulling him under the water again. My left hand groped and found his right wrist.

He fought like a headless chicken, and it was so difficult for me to hold him. Anyway, I held him down the water as long as I could, but then I had some limitations too. When it started to feel as if my lungs were at bursting point, I let go of him and swarm up to the surface. He didn’t break the surface of the water immediately – it took him almost seven seconds to surface. But when he did show up, I could see by his feeble strokes that he doesn’t have much energy in him. He had lost his knife and, I believe, he must be very scared of me too. He tried to get away from me and gave a croaking shout. But I’m not gonna let that happen, not after all these troubles. So I sprinted after him. I caught up with him in, say, four seconds and, putting my hand between his shoulders, I shoved him under the water again. I dived after him, grabbed his right leg and held him down. By now he was offering practically no resistance. And when we came to the surface again he was done. As a matter of fact, he would have sunk if I hadn’t grabbed him by his collar and held him up. You piece of shit, I thought, as  I towed him towards the rowing boat that was moored only a few yards from where we were.

On reaching the boat, I heaved him in, nearly upsetting the boat as I did so. I got in after him and knelt beside him. I wasn’t too surprised I was able to tackle him in water. Swimming is one of the few things I was very good at. So I knew he won’t be a match for me once we were in the water. He seemed to be in a bad state though. I rolled him over on his face so that the water he had swallowed could drain out of him. Then I proceeded to untie the mooring line. After I did that, I got the oars out and began to row as fast as I could towards the lights of the center of Atlantic City.

After about fifteen minutes, I could not see the lights of the vacation house anymore. I was sure  I must have gone half-way. Then  Michael stirred and started mumbling. I told myself I wasn’t going to give him a chance to recover. To fight with him in this small boat will be too bad for me. I won’t have a chance. I reached him as he slowly hauled himself into a sitting position. As he lifted his head, he made his chin a perfect target for him. I hit him on the point of his jaw with all the energy in me. I hit him so hard that the blow took the skin off my knuckles. He fell backwards as if he had been shot. His head hit the bottom of the boat and he went limp.

Rushing back to the oars, I began to row again. As I reached the Atlantic City harbor, I noticed that he had started moving again. I also saw that my boatman was waiting for me. I saw his eyes widen when he saw I wasn’t in his boat. Ignoring him, I caught hold of Michael and heaved him on to the beach. This move brought Michael around and he slowly hauled himself upright. Without giving him the chance to balance well, I stepped up to him and hit him very hard on his jaw. The force of my blow sent him flat on his back at the boatman’s feet.

“Call the police, will you?” I said. “Don’t worry about your boat. You will be taken care of. Just get a policeman fast!”

A policeman came up. I guess he must have been standing in the shadows on the car park. God will bless the soul of this policeman, I said to myself. He didn’t argue as most policemen usually do. He listened attentively as I explained the situation to him. Vito Roselli’s name seemed to mean something to him. He told the boatman to hold his mouth, and then put handcuffs on Michael. Next, he requisitioned a car and drove Michael and I to the police station.

That night was indeed my night because Lieutenant Reid was still on duty. He looked bored as I came into his office, naked except for a pair of swimming trunks. But he came alive when I told him I had found Vito Roselli and had got one of Vito’s men.

I told him there was a consignment of heroine at the vacation house and that he would have all the evidence he needed for an arrest if he moved fast. He got on the telephone to the Atlantic City headquarters of The DEA and had a quick talk with the head of the agency. He got orders to go ahead and raid the vacation house.

As he made for the door, I said to him: “Be careful lieutenant. There’s five men in the vacation house, and I’m sure they are armed, tough and very dangerous.”

He gave me a sour smile.

“I am armed and dangerous too.”

He went out and I heard him barking orders. Soon, another policeman came in and showed me where I could have a hot shower. He also gave me a pair of casual trousers and a sweater.

By the time I was dressed, Lieutenant Reid had gone down to the beach where he was to await reinforcements from the Atlantic City police headquarters and, perhaps, the DEA guys. I decided I would have time to telephone Phorbus Taylor before the raid began.

I got Phorbus Taylor on the line. I told him that within an hour Vito Roselli would be arrested, and warned him to stand by for details.

Phorbus said he would warn our Trenton office what was coming, and would wait for me to call back.

I then took a cab down to the harbor.

Lieutenant Reid with thirty policemen, armed to the teeth, were piling into three speedboats. When I suggested I should go with them, he waved me away, saying it will be too risky for me.

Soon Lieutenant Reid and his men went roaring off into the darkness, leaving me with my boatman who, by now, is basically going crazy and yelling for his boat. I told him I would show him where I had left it if he could find a speed boat to take us there. That seemed to calm him down; and he persuaded one of his colleagues to take us, and we set off.

By the time we had picked up the rowing boat from the beach where I had left it, Lieutenant Reid and his men had landed at Vito Roselli’s vacation house. I kept my ears pricked for the sound of shooting, but to my greatest surprise, I heard nothing.

With great difficulty, I persuaded the boatman to hang around just outside Vito Roselli’s harbor. By now the moon had come up, so the three police boats were very visible in the harbor.

After waiting for about twenty minutes, I saw a bunch of men come along the harbor wall and get into the boats. With them was a girl and I guessed it was Grace Roselli.

I told the boatman to get back to the city center, and was waiting on the beach when Lieutenant Reid and his men and prisoners landed. Surprisingly, I saw the he had got them all.

While Lieutenant Reid and his men hustled them into the waiting police van, I crossed over to where he was standing.

“You got the consignment of drugs, I believed?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Any trouble from them?”

He shook his head.

“We did not give them the chance to make trouble.”

“Please, keep me out of this. I’ve got to get back to Middle River right away. I don’t think you will need me. Or, will you?”

“No. However, it is important for you to attend the inquest next Monday.”

“I will,” I replied.

After I said that, I left him, got into my car and drove back to my hotel. I called Phorbus Taylor and gave him the details of Vito Roselli’s arrest. I told him to let Leifert Green of The Baltimore Sun have the story too. He said he will get a cable off to our Trenton office right away and then call Leifert Green.

“I will be in Middle River tonight,” I said. “So I’ll see you in the morning.”

He asked if I didn’t think I should stay on in Atlantic City and cover the case when Vito Roselli come up in court. He was right, of course. However, I had councilman McCutchen on my mind. I didn’t know how councilman McCutchen was going to react when he heard that his father, Vito Roselli, had been arrested and that the consignment of drugs he was waiting for had been seized. It is very important that I convince him      I had nothing to do with it or he will reach for my throat.

“Well, he won’t come before a court fo a couple of days,” I said. “Besides, I’ve things to do in Middle River.”

“Alright then,” he said. “I’ll be seeing you.”

END OF EPISODE XXXII

P.S. Episode Thirty-Three  will be published here next Monday.