was shaking like a leaf, and there was an awful swirling going on inside my head. I fought
against it. It went away after a moment or so. I got a grip on myself. I didn’t dare waste a
moment. I got on the trolley and covered myself with the sheet. Then I took off my hat and
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lay down, pulling the sheet over my head.
I lay there, waiting. My head was beginning to ache now, and every now and then a shiver
ran through me. I began to think I would be spotted before they even got me out of the room.
I was in two minds whether to get up and hide in the bathroom when I heard the door open.
I turned to stone, holding my breath, trying to control the hammering of my heart. The
trolley began to move. The guy pushing it was whistling under his breath. He sounded as if he
hadn’t a care in the world.
That short ride down the corridor was the worst experience I’ve ever been through. Even
lying in a fox-hole with the scream of falling bombs in my ears was nothing to this.
“What have you got there, chum?” a voice asked.
I felt my blood congeal. I knew by the voice it could only be one of the cops.”
“This is just up your street,” the attendant said. “It’s a corpse.”
“Aw, hell. Don’t you cure ‘em in this hospital?”
“Not often. I guess the head doc draws a commission from the undertaker. He certainly
keeps him busy.”
“What is this? A man or woman?”
“A woman. She died of peritonitis. I guess the doc left his glove in her or something. I’ve
never known a guy as absent-minded as he is.”
The cop laughed and the trolley began to move again. It bumped over a step, and then I
heard the faint swish of closing doors. A moment later I felt a downward movement and
guessed we were in an elevator.
The attendant continued to whistle under his breath. The elevator bumped to a gentle
standstill, the doors swished open and the trolley began to move again.
“Hi, Joe,” a girl’s voice said.
“Hi, sugar, how’s it coming?”
The trolley stopped.
“Who’s that?”
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“Mrs. Ennismore. Room 44,” the attendant said. “You’re looking cute this evening.”
“That’s opposite Ricca’s room, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. There’re two cops up there, keeping an eye on him.”
“There are ? I bet the matron had a fit, didn’t she ?”
“Riskin handled her. That guy’s smart. I wouldn’t want him after me. He’s got Ricca
fooled. Ricca imagines he’s getting away with this loss of memory stuff, but he isn’t. I heard
Foxy tell Doc Summers he’ll be good and ready to slap a murder charge on him tomorrow.
I’d like to see his face when they march in and pinch him.”
“Who did he murder?”
“Some dame. He must have been nuts. He nearly killed himself as well. Listen, sugar, how
about going for a ride with me in the elevator? It might break down between floors if we’re
lucky.”
“If you’re lucky, you mean.”
“Lemme get rid of this stiff and let’s try it.” The trolley began to move again. “You wait
right here, sugar. This is going to be something to put in your diary.”
The foot of the trolley bumped against swing-doors. The attendant gave it a hard push and
sent it forward to cannon against a wall.
I heard him say, “The guy who invented elevators was a public benefactor. Hop in, and I’ll
show you for why.”
Then there was silence. I lay there for a moment or so until I heard the elevator doors swish
to, then I pulled off the sheet and sat up.
The room was windowless, and in darkness, but the light from the passage, coming through
the crack in the swing-doors, was enough for me to get a vague idea of the set-up. There were
a number of trolleys covered with sheets standing against the walls. An overpowering smell
of formaldehyde filled the air, and it was cold.
I slid off the trolley, again nearly forgetting my hat. I put it on. As my eyes became used to
the semi-darkness, I spotted a door across the far end of the room. Faint daylight came from
under it.
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I went over to it, turned the handle and opened it a couple of inches. I looked into a narrow
alley. Two big white motor ambulances were parked out there. The light was beginning to
fade now, but it was still too light to be safe.
I opened the door and looked up the alley. Iron gates stood open at the far end. Beyond
them I could see a main street. There was no one guarding the gates.
I started off down the alley towards the street. I had no idea where I was going or what I
was going to do. I hadn’t any money. There was nothing in my pockets, not even a handkerchief. But I didn’t care. At least I was getting away from Riskin, the hospital and Ricca. That
would do to get on with.
V
A big yellow moon threw amber light over the sea. There was a car parked on the sand, its
lights out. The man and the girl, on either side of the car, began to undress. I was near enough
to hear their voices, but not what they were saying.
This part of the beach was lonely and deserted but for these two and the car. I had lain
hidden in the mangroves for the past three hours, then suddenly the car had arrived. It came
just when I was giving up hope.
I watched the two of them run down to the sea and splash in. As soon as they were
swimming I moved out of my hiding-place and headed for the car. I found his coat. My
fingers closed around a wallet in his inside pocket. I hauled it out, and went around to the
back of the car where they couldn’t see me if they looked this way. The wallet was stuffed
with money. I could scarcely believe my luck. I took a hundred and fifty dollars in small bills.
That still left him enough to buy her a slap-up supper. I slid the wallet into the pocket and
tossed the coat into the car, then I ran back to the darkness of the mangroves.
During the three hours I had remained hidden I had made a plan. Riskin would expect me
to clear out of Miami as fast as I could. I had told him I had a talent for hitch-hiking. He’d
probably cover every truck and car going out of town, and watch every road. I had decided
my safest bet was to remain in Miami, and hole up somewhere. I had to find myself a quiet
hotel, spin them a yarn I was waiting for my baggage, and hope they’d give me a room.
There should be dozens of suitable hotels if I could only find them. I’d have to be careful.
My description was bound to be out now, and every patrolman would be looking for me:
Ricca would probably be looking for me too.
I started off towards the bright lights of the waterfront. I moved slowly. I was tired. I had
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walked miles since I had left the hospital. My head ached too. While I had been hiding I had
taken off the bandages. They had shaved my head, but from the feel of it the wound was
healed.
At least my hat fitted me now, and didn’t bother me.
Ahead I could see the waterfront and the harbour, the shops and cafe and saloons.
As I walked along the congested sidewalk I kept my eyes open for a patrolman, but I
needn’t have bothered. No patrolman could have spotted me in that teeming crowd.
A few minutes’ walking brought me to an hotel. It seemed the kind of place I was looking
for. It was dingy and quiet, and looking through the double swing-doors I saw the lounge was
deserted.
I pushed open the doors and walked in.
Ahead of me was the reception desk. A little guy in a black alpaca coat was propping
himself up against the desk. He was bald and wrinkled, and his deep-set eyes were bored. “I’d
like a room,” I said.
“Ten bucks deposit,” he said briefly, “For how long?”