Free 1965 - The Way the Cookie Crumbles by James Hadley Chase Page B

been afraid of men. She knew how to look after herself. She had often thought about fear, and after some heart searching, she had finally decided the only two things that could really frighten her were poverty and old age. To remain poor and become old were concrete three dimensional nightmares that truly frightened her. Nothing else, certainly not this big, flash looking dummy at her side.
    Finally, when they reached Edris’ apartment block, Algir said, without looking at her, ‘Take the bag on the back seat and get out.’
    She got out of the car, lifted the bag from the back seat and then paused to look at him.
    ‘You watch yourself, Jack,’ she said. ‘At your time of life it’s bad for your arteries to boil over the way you do, not that I care.’
    With her ducktail walk, she moved into the lobby of the apartment block, her head held high, arrogant and very sure of herself.
    Ticky Edris had been waiting her coming with feverish anxiety. As she rang on the front doorbell, he had been watching the clock on the overmantel with increasing impatience. It was 11.15 hours. Algir had telephoned at 10.30 hours. He had sounded nervy and that was understandable, but, at least, he had assured Ticky that so far, all had gone without a hitch.
    ‘You remembered to bring her clothes?’ Edris had demanded.
    ‘Yes. I tell you there’s nothing to worry about. I’m picking up Ira right now.’
    ‘Nothing to worry about?’ Edris’ voice was shrill. ‘That’s what you think! You’re more than half an hour late! I had to telephone Terrell. I was scared he would call the school. What made you so late?’
    ‘Never mind,’ Algir said curtly. ‘I’ll have her with you in half an hour.’
    Now here she was, ringing on the front door bell. Edris bounced across the room, into the lobby and snatched open the front door.
    ‘Come in, come in,’ he urged. ‘Where’s Phil?’
    ‘We didn’t seem to like each other,’ the girl said, moving into the room. She looked around. ‘He went off as if he had swallowed a bee.’
    ‘You got her clothes?’
    ‘Her clothes?’ Ira stared at him.
    ‘Phil collected her things from the school.’
    ‘Maybe they are in here,’ she waved to the bag.
    ‘Open it and see!’
    She put the bag on the settee and snapped back the locks. She lifted the lid.
    ‘Yes: they’re here.’
    ‘There’s the bedroom. Take them in there and change. Hurry!’
    ‘What’s all the excitement about?’
    ‘Devon’s on his way over,’ Edris said, hopping from one foot to the other. ‘And listen, remember, he’s your father. You’re hostile. He wasn’t good to your mother. You were fond of your mother. Play it cool and watch your mouth. You remember all the things I told you?’
    ‘All right, all right,’ the girl said. ‘I can handle it. Just relax. You’re paying for a performance, and you’ll get it.’
    Picking up the bag, she walked briskly into the bedroom and closed the door.
     

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    J oy Ansley, back from a three-week vacation spent with her father in the Bahamas, was unpacking. As she moved about her spacious bedroom, she thought a little sadly that the vacation hadn’t been much of a success. A woman as hopelessly in love as she was, she thought, as she picked up the last suitcase and put it on the bed, just shouldn’t spend three weeks in a romantic place like the Bahamas with an eighty-year old father, spry and alert as he might be. She had missed Mel Devon too much to enjoy herself.
    Joy Ansley was thirty-one years of age. She was tall and dark. Her features were good, her dark eyes beautiful. She had poise and a serenity of character that distinguished her immediately in a room full of people. She had met Mel Devon five years ago and had been in love with him ever since. She knew he was married and she quickly discovered he had no intention of getting married again.
    She was forced to accept this situation, and she was grateful that he chose her to be his hostess when he