Charles Williams 1954-A Touch of Death(4)

A Touch of Death — 61
“Save me from what?” she asked coldly.
I shook my head and took my hands off her arms
to light a cigarette. “Has your car got a radio in it?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’ll tell you the easy way to find out if I’m telling
the truth. Trying to go back to town is the hard way,
and there’s only one to a customer. In about an hour
there should be some more news. We’ll listen to it.”
“Maybe there’s some on now,” she said. She
picked up her purse and started toward the door.
She had a good start before I realized what she was
up to.
I jumped after her. By the time I reached the door
she had run down off the porch and was standing in
the open, fumbling in the purse for her keys and
looking around for the car.
“Wait!” I yelled. She paid no attention.
She swung her face around and saw the shed at
the side of the house. The car had to be in there. She
whirled, ran one step toward it, and then it
happened.

Charles Williams 1954-A Touch of Death(3)

A Touch of Death — 40
was a fifth, a little over half full. I shoved it in my
coat pocket and picked her up again. She was still
out like a hung jury, and I knew she would be for
hours. As I went out through the kitchen I grabbed
up the purse.
I put her on the back seat of the car and switched
on the flashlight long enough to take a look at the
keys. I sorted out a couple that looked promising,
cut the light, and went back outside, feeling for the
lock of the overhead door. The first key did the trick.
I boosted the door up slowly and got back in the car.
Picking out the ignition key by feel, I started the
Caddy and backed it out onto the driveway. The
drive was white gravel and I could see it all right, all
the way out to the big gates in front. I swung out
onto the street and felt my way very slowly for
another hundred yards. Then I switched on the
headlights and goosed the two hundred horses.
Housebreaking, I thought. Auto theft. Abduction.

Charles Williams 1954-A Touch of Death(2)

Three
She came down and let me in when I rang the
buzzer. Neither of us said anything until we were
back up in the living room. She sat down in the same
place she’d been before, across the coffee table, and
smiled at me, the eyes cool and a little amused.
“I wondered if you’d be back,” she said. “And how
soon.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She lit a cigarette and looked thoughtfully at the
smoke. “Let’s put it this way: If you didn’t have
sense enough to see it, you wouldn’t be smart
enough to be of any help. This is no child’s game,
you know. And it could be dangerous as hell.”
“There’s one thing I’m still not too sure of,” I said.
“And that’s why you’re so certain she’s the one that
killed him and left his car in front of your apartment.
Wasn’t there anybody else who could have known he
was going to run off with you?”

Charles Williams 1954-A Touch of Death(1)

One
It was a fourplex out near the beach. I stopped the
car, looked at the ad again, and went up the walk.
Only two of the mailboxes had names on them, and
neither was the one I wanted.
This was the right address, though, so it had to be
one of the others. I picked one at random and
pressed the buzzer. Nothing happened. I tried again,
and could hear it faintly somewhere on the second
floor.