Free 1971 - Want to Stay Alive by James Hadley Chase

man who calls himself the Executioner. It’s a clever name . . . a name that makes an impact. With a name like that, he gets headlines. With a name like that, he has started a panic in this City. Until I find something else, I think that is the motive . . . to create panic in this City.”
    “Oh, nonsense!” Hedley snapped. “Why should a nut want to create a panic?”
    “That’s what he is doing,” Terrell said quietly. “I’m not saying I’m right, but with nothing else to go on, and looking at the scene, this could be the motive.”
    Hedley thought for a long moment, then pushed back his chair.
    “I’m tired. I’ve had enough for tonight. I’m sorry I blew up, Frank. All right . . . I’ll go along with your thinking. I don’t have to tell you what tomorrow is going to be like.” As Terrell said nothing, Hedley paused as he thought of tomorrow’s newspapers, the nonstop ringing of his telephone bell and Pete Hamilton creating trouble on the 10.00 TV news. “You really think this nut is trying to throw a scare into this City?”
    “He’s doing it, isn’t he?”
    “So what are we going to do?”
    “That now depends on you,” Terrell said. He leaned forward and knocked out his pipe in the ash tray. “Before I return to headquarters I want to know if you are still on my side.”
    “On your side?” Hedley stared at him. “Of course I am!”
    “Are you?” Terrell looked woodenly at Hedley. “A moment ago you were talking about me losing my job. Do you want a new Chief of Police?”
    Hedley flinched.
    “Why the hell should I want a new Chief of Police? If there’s anyone who can catch this bastard it’s you!”
    Terrell got to his feet.
    “That’s right. If there’s anyone who can catch him it’s me. So let’s cut out the panic.”
    “That’s telling him, Frank,” Monica said from the open doorway. “And how he needed to be told!”
    Both men turned, realising only at this moment that she had been listening all the time.
    Hedley suddenly relaxed. He looked sheepish.
    “Wives! You want to take her off my hands, Frank?”
    Terrell relaxed too. He winked at Monica.
    “If I hadn’t one of my own, I’d take you up on that,” he said. “Both of them are as good as each other.” He started towards the door.
    Hedley said, hesitation in his voice, “Do you want me at headquarters tomorrow?”
    “You’re always wanted, Lawson,” Terrell said, pausing. He touched Monica’s hand, then taking the elevator, he went down to face the waiting TV cameras.
     
    ***
     
    Jack Anders, doorman of the Plaza Beach hotel, stood on the red carpet before the imposing marble portals that led into the best hotel in the City, his keen grey eyes surveying the boulevard, his big hands clasped behind his back.
    Anders was a 2nd World War veteran, the holder of a number of impressive combat medals and was now a recognised character on the boulevard. He had been doorman of the Plaza Beach hotel for the past twenty years.
    This was the slack time in the morning so Anders was taking it easy. In another couple of hours cars would be arriving for the pre-lunch cocktail hour and he would be fully occupied opening car doors, instructing chauffeurs where to park, tipping his peak cap to the regulars, answering idiotic questions, giving information and collecting dollar bills. None of the Plaza Beach hotel’s clients ever dreamed of speaking to Anders without parting with a dollar bill. But at this hour of 09.30, he didn’t expect any demands on his attention and accordingly was relaxing.
    Police Officer Paddy McNeil, a massively built, elderly Irishman who was around to take care of any traffic snarl up on the boulevard and generally to keep an eye on the aged and the rich, came to rest beside Anders.
    The two men were friends. Their friendship had grown over the years while Anders had stood sentinel in all weathers outside the hotel and while McNeil paced the boulevard and came around to the hotel every two hours