Free Strictly For Cash by James Hadley Chase Page B

Riskin said. "I've talked to him. His name was in the paper. He and his wife, Alice, and a guy named Solly Brant, identified the body. Because you read about them, you're imagining they are your friends."

    I clutched hold of his arm.

    "Identified what body?"

    "Farrar's body. Here, take a look at this. You'll find it all there, just as I told you."

    He took a newspaper out of his pocket and gave it to me. It was all there, just as he had told me, but there was one thing he had missed out. It said in the paper that I had stolen the Bentley, and the owner hadn't come forward to claim it.

    I threw the paper on the floor. I felt I was suffocating.

    "I've tried to trace the Bentley," he went on, "but the licence plates are phoney. I have traced the Buick."

    "You have! Who does it belong to?" I asked in a strangled , voice.

    "To you, boy. Your name is John Ricca, and your address is 3945, Apartment 4, Franklin Boulevard, Lincoln Beach."

    "You're lying!"

    "I wish you'd take it easy," he said. "I told you it'd take a little time for you to accept what I'm telling you. You've been identified."

    It only needed that.

    "Who identified me?"

    "Your cousin. That's why you're in this private room. As soon as he found out who you were, he arranged for you to have the very best treatment."

    "I haven't a cousin, and my name's not Ricca!" I cried, pounding the sheet with my fist. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

    "He's your cousin all right. He took a look at you last night when you were asleep. He identified you right away. The car's registration clinches it."

    "I don't believe a word of it!" I was shouting at him. "I haven't a cousin, I tell you! Do you hear me! I'm Farrar!"

    He scratched his ear while he looked at me. There was that exasperated but kindly expression on his face people get when they are talking to lunatics.

    "Well, look, boy, try to take it easy. Maybe you'd better see him. Maybe you'll know him when you see him."

    My heart skipped a beat, then began to race.

    "Him? Who do you mean? What are you talking about?"

    "Your cousin, Ricca. He's waiting outside."

III

    He came into the room as silently as a ghost: a short, fat man with a pot belly and short, thick legs. His face was round and fat, and small, purple veins made an unsightly network over his skin. He had snake's eyes, flat and glittering and as lifeless as glass. He was going bald, and had taken pains to spread his thinning black hair over the bald patches without much success. His thick, red lips were set in a meaningless, perpetual smile.

    One thing I was certain of: I'd never seen him before i n my life.

    Everything about him shrieked of money: his clothes, his linen, his personal jewellery were the best money could buy. He had a diamond ring on his little finger: the stone was as big as a pigeon's egg.

    He came silently across the room: his feet making no sound on the parquet floor. In his right hand he carried a large bunch of blood-red carnations, carefully wrapped in tissue paper.

    He came to the foot of the bed and stood looking at me. Riskin stepped aside; a benign expression on his wrinkled face.

    "Hello, Johnny," the fat man said. He had a soft, fruity voice as if it came from a throat well cushioned with fat.
    I didn't say anything. I couldn't. It was as if I had been pitchforked into a horrible nightmare.

    "He looks fine, doesn't he?" the fat man went on, smiling at Riskin. "Jeepers, Johnny, you gave me a scare. I've been looking all over for you. How do you feel?"

    "I don't know you," I said, and my voice was husky. "Get out of here!"

    "Take it easy, boy," Riskin said mildly. "Give him a chance to talk to you. You want to get well, don't you? We've got to get this mind of yours working again."

    "I tell you I don't know him!"

    The fat man put the carnations down on the bedside table.

    "You've taken a pretty bad knock, Johnny," he said. "The doc thinks I can help you. I want to help you. You know that."

    I was scared