Free 1954 - Safer Dead by James Hadley Chase

standing.
    ‘I’d leave them alone,’ Scaife said. ‘The old man is never at his best in the mornings, and he didn’t get to bed until three o’clock.’
    I sat on the bank, nursing a miniature camera I had brought along.
    ‘I want some art for my rag, but I’ll wait until they come back.’
    We watched Creed, the two cops and the frogman embark in a small rowing boat. The two cops rowed out to the middle of the lake, then the frogman lowered himself into the water and disappeared.
    ‘I bet it’s cold,’ Scaife said, huddling further into his overcoat. ‘I’m glad I didn’t tell the captain what I did during the war. He’s got a long memory. Harris thought he would get promotion if he told the old man what a hero he had been, but all he’s getting is a cold bath. Ugh!’
    I reached down and dipped my fingers in the water.
    ‘Oh, it’s not that bad. I wouldn’t say it is more than ten degrees below freezing.’
    Scaife laughed heartlessly.
    ‘It’ll do him good.’
    We sat side-by-side, smoking and watching the little boat for twenty minutes or so, then suddenly Harris’s head appeared above the surface. He swam up to the boat, hauled himself in. He and Creed talked for a moment or so, then the two cops began to row towards shore.
    ‘Think he’s found something?’ I said, getting to my feet.
    ‘Must have. Creed would have sent him down again if he hadn’t,’ Scaife said, joining me.
    We walked along the bank and waited for the boat to reach shore.
    ‘There’s a barrel down there,’ Creed said, his heavy face excited. ‘No doubt about it, and it’s full of cement.’
    I took a photograph of Harris who was trying to stop his teeth from chattering. I had already taken a couple of the lake.
    ‘Going to get it up right away?’ I asked.
    ‘We’ll get it tonight,’ Creed said. ‘I don’t want everyone in town here. Keep your traps shut about this. I think the girl’s down there, but I don’t want any publicity until we know for certain.’
    I got in his car and drove off.
    ‘I told you he wasn’t too sweet this morning, didn’t I?’ Scaife said, grinning. He looked over to Harris. ‘Like your dip?’
    Harris’s reply was unprintable.
    I drove Scaife back to town.
    ‘Even if we do bring her up,’ I said, as we drove along, ‘we’re a long way from finding her killer. Okay, Flemming did the actual job, but it looks as if someone paid him to do it, doesn’t it?’
    ‘Yeah. He had no reason to kill her as far as we know. Well, it’s not my headache, thank goodness,’ Scaife said. ‘There’s a lot to be said for just being a police sergeant. I wouldn’t want Creed’s job right now. We’ve got to find out more about this girl. We’ve got to find out if anyone had a reason for getting rid of her. From what we do know, she doesn’t sound the type to cause trouble, but then one never knows. Still waters run deep so they say.’
    ‘You talk like that and you’ll turn into a writer,’ I said, grinning. ‘Then you’ll have to work for a living.’ I pulled up outside headquarters. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’
    ‘Come out to the lake about nine. I’ll be there. Getting that barrel up is going to be hard work. You might come in useful,’ Scaife said, getting out of the car. ‘So long for now.’
    As I had nothing better to do, and as the night ahead threatened to be a long and hard one, I drove to the hotel and went back to bed.
    I slept until three in the afternoon, then I drove down to the police headquarters.
    I found Scaife in his cubbyhole of an office, going through the Benson dossier. An ashtray, crammed with cigarette butts, told me he had been working most of the morning on it.
    ‘Found anything?’ I said, sitting down.
    ‘You again?’ he said, pushing back his chair. ‘No, not a thing. I hope we don’t find this girl. It’ll be tough if we do. There’s no link I can see that makes sense as to why Flemming was hired to kill her.’
    ‘Don’t you think he