By now Anson had reached the car. He saw the driver’s window was down. He could see Barlowe clearly in the moonlight.
Meg said, her voice unsteady, “Don’t you want to make love to me?” Then suddenly, her nerve cracked, and she put her hands to her face. She screamed; “No! Don’t do it, John…don’t do it!”
As Barlowe turned towards her in startled surprise, Anson lifted the gun and gently squeezed the trigger.
Meg was still screaming hysterically as the gun went off. Barlowe slumped forward; blood sprayed over the windshield.
Anson dropped the gun into his pocket, then he walked around the car and opened the off-side door. Meg threw up her hands to ward him off.
She was screaming hysterically as he dragged her out of the car.
PART TWO
CHAPTER 8
Steve Harmas walked into the office, put his hat on the peg behind the door, then lowered his long frame into his desk chair.
He and his wife, Helen, had been to a party the previous night which had turned out to be a marathon drinking spree and Hannas was now suffering from a hangover.
He rubbed his forehead, grimaced, then looked with glazed eyes at the mail neatly laid out on his blotter.
There didn’t seem to be anything that needed his immediate attention and he relaxed back and closed his eyes. He thought enviously of his wife still asleep.
The sudden sound of the intercom buzzer made him wince. He flicked down a key, said, “Harmas. Yeah?”
“I want you.”
There was no mistaking Maddox’s voice.
“I’m on my way,” Hannas said, flicked up the key, pushed himself out of his chair and started the long tramp down the corridor to Maddox’s office.
Patty greeted him with a bright smile that made Harmas wince.
“You’re looking like a man with a hangover,” she said. “Do you feel that way?”
“Yeah.” Harmas held his head. “What’s he want?”
“I don’t know. I took the newspaper into him about five minutes ago. There was an explosion, then I heard him yelling for you.”
“I have an idea that this isn’t going to be my favourite day,” Harmas said entering Maddox’s office.
Maddox was smoking furiously. Although it was only a quarter after nine a.m., from the state of his desk and floor, he might have been working throughout the night.
“Look at this,” he said and tossed the newspaper at Harmas.
Harmas sank into a chair and read the banner headlines.
He glanced at Maddox who was watching him, then he began to read the small type under the headline. Suddenly, he stiffened.
“Philip Barlowe? He’s a client of ours, isn’t he? Isn’t he the one…?”
“He was our client!” Maddox said, a snarl in his voice. “He was insured for fifty thousand dollars… now he’s dead!”
“Shot through the back of his head… his wife raped!” Harmas looked shocked. “It’s time they caught this nut. She sounds in a bad way.”
“I can read,” Maddox said, “Steve, I don’t like this. There’s a smell to it. This guy took out a life coverage ten days ago… now he’s dead. I don’t like it.”
“I guess she doesn’t like it either,” Hannas said a little impatiently. “It’s one of those things.” He looked sharply at Maddox. “You don’t think he was killed for the insurance money?”
“I don’t know, but when a two bit salesman insures his life for fifty thousand dollars and then he dies before the ink’s scarcely dry on the policy, I don’t like it.”
“It says here she was raped and is suffering from a dislocated jaw. She gets the money, doesn’t she? Don’t tell me….”
“For fifty thousand dollars I’d be raped and have my jaw dislocated,” Maddox said grimly. “I’m a head start on you. You haven’t seen the dossier the Tracing Agency turned me on this woman… I have. It’s some story. A woman life that could do anything.”
“Where’s the dossier? Let me see it, then I can look and act as clever as you,” Harmas said.
“Never mind about the dossier. We’ve got to move fast. I want you to go to Brent right away. See leutenant Jenson. Tell him I don’t like the set-up and that I want you to work with him. He’ll be glad to have you. I want you to be there when Jenson talks to this woman. Keep your eyes and ears open. See Anson. Warn him I’m going to fight her claim when she puts it in. I don’t want him shooting his mouth off to the press. Go to Jason’s Glen or whatever it’s called and look around.” He stubbed out his cigarette and lit another. “And Steve, while she’s in hospital, go out to her house and look around. Don’t tell Jenson you’re going".
“What am I supposed to be looking for?” Harmas asked. “I don’t know. Get the feel of the place. You might find something. Get out there and look.”
“Well, okay,” Harmas got to his feet. “I’ll see Jenson first.”
“Get the doctor’s report about this woman. I want to be satisfied she was raped and attacked.”
“It says so here, doesn’t it?” Harmas pointed to the newspaper.
“Do you believe everything you read in papers?” Maddox snapped. “Get the doctor’s report!”
A few minutes to nine o’clock, Anna Garvin arrived at the office. She was surprised to find Anson already at his desk.
“You’re early,” she said, then looked at her watch. “Or am I late?”
Anson had arrived some thirty minutes ago. He had come to the office early to disconnect the time switch clock and remove the tape on the recorder before Anna arrived.
“I’m early,” he said. “Seen the paper? Barlowe’s dead… you remember… the guy I sold that big policy to.”
“Yes, I saw it. It’s awful, isn’t it, Mr. Anson? I’m scared to go out at night.” Ancon dailed the Pru Town Gazette. He asked to speak to Jeff Frisdee.
When the reporter came on the line, Anson said, “This guy Barlowe… I sold him a fifty thousand dollar life coverage only a few days ago. I thought you might want that bit of news.”
“Why, sure", Frisbee said. “Thanks a lot. Fifty thousand, huh? That’s quite a hunk of dough. Well, his wife will welcome it. I’m glad you told me.”
“There’s been no arrest yet?” Anson asked.
“No. Jenson’s going round like a zombie… he hasn’t a clue.”
“How’s Mrs. Barlowe?”
“Pretty bad. The doctor won’t let anyone talk to her.”
“If you hear anything, let me know. I’m interested as Barlowe was my client.”
“Sure will. How soon will your people pay the claim?”
“Shouldn’t take long.”
“Let me know when they do. It’s news. I’ll let you know anything of interest from my end.”
Anson said he would and hung up.
“How is she?” Anna asked.
“Pretty bad. This is a horrible thing. I think the least I can do is to send her some flowers. Call up Devons and tell them to send a dozen roses right away to the hospital, will you, Anna?”
Lieutenant Fred Jenson of the Brent homicide squad was a chunky, fair man with alert grey eyes and a brisk manner. He wasn’t much of a policeman, but he did try and sometimes, but not often, his efforts were rewarded.
He was flicking through a file when Harmas walked in.
“Hello,” he said. “What do you want?”
He had worked with Harmas in the past and the two men got along well together. Harmas sat astride a straight back chair.