The Man Who Stopped at Nothing (1951) Read online

  “Splendid! Nothing lost! Not even a fragment of recollection. Do you remember the accident?”

  “What accident?”

  “You were killed in your auto down on the road. But that’s all right. You aren’t expected to remember that.” “I remember a pair of headlights…”

  Limpus made a note in his book. “Memory of time immediately before death not accurate,” he mumbled as he wrote. “There may be something significant in that.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was on my way to our cabin up in the hills for a little hunting. Some damn fool was coming along the road. Say—is there a phone here? I want to call my wife.”

  Limpus eyed Dorn sternly. “Young man, you aren’t reacting properly at all. You’re supposed to be overcome with gratitude. You should idolize me for what I’ve done.”

  “That’s putting it a little strong, isn’t it? If I had an accident and got knocked out, I’m grateful to you for taking care of me and I’ll see that you’re rewarded, but—”

  “An accident! That’s right! You had an accident and you were killed! When I pulled you out of that wreck, you were dead as a mackerel. Don’t you understand? You were dead and I brought you back to life. Can’t I get it through your, thick, skull that you died?”

  Dorn looked stealthily about for a weapon. “You’re as mad as a hatter, fellow!”

  “You were dead—dead—dead!” Limpus screamed. “I brought you up here and put you on that table. I worked like crazy over you hour after hour while the storm raged around the house and even the gods laughed at me! I did it! I—” Limpus dropped weakly into a chair. “Good lord!”

  “What’s the matter?”

  Limpus’ face was a picture of consternation. “I can’t remember.”

  “Can’t remember what?”

  “How I brought you back to life. I did everything I could think of. I tried a thousand things. Like a bride with her first cake. And now I can’t remember what it was that brought you up off the table, completely rejuvenated.”

  Jan Limpus put all his new grief, all his monumental frustration, into the three words: “I can’t remember!”

  Dorn was adjusting his necktie. He’d certainly be glad to get clear of this mad character. They sure had weird ones hiding under the rocks in these hills.

  He turned to Limpus with a hearty smile. “Well, it was nice of you to help me, and if you’ll give me the address of this place, I’ll send you a check. Don’t, bother showing me the way back to the road. I’ll find it all right.”

  Jan Limpus sat perfectly still, veiling the cunning that had welled suddenly into his eyes. “Goodbye.”

  Dorn breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to have trouble after ail. Just a harmless old coot.

  He turned toward the door, turned his back on Limpus. That was his mistake.

  Limpus moved like a cat. His hand closed over a hammer he’d used to nail shut a banging window. By the time Dorn had reached the exit Limpus was close behind him. Dorn’s fingers closed over the knob.

  Then he stiffened as he heard Limpus shriek: “I can’t remember! I’ve got to do it over again!”

  There was an explosion before complete darkness rolled in.

  AND DORN was standing by a grassy knoll near the golf course just outside the suburb of Slonegate. It was dark now and Dorn felt low, dispirited and very much alone.

  He knew something” utterly unbelievable and, fantastic had occurred; something that made his strange world on the upper plane as logical and believable as the gas bill.

  He was too tired to wonder about it now; that horrible dream in which a crazy man had jumped around a fantastic laboratory and talked about bringing him back to life. At this moment, he wanted Sally Williams. He wanted to feel her hand in his and see the pert turned-up nose, the wide, solemn, blue eyes. He wanted to hear her tell him he was completely abnormal.

  At the moment, that seemed the most normal thing which could possibly happen.

  But Sally was not there. Dorn couldn’t begin to understand it, but he’d evidently gone away and Sally had gotten tired of waiting for him.

  A moment of panic seized him. Suppose he’d never find her again? It was a big world and there were no city directories on this higher-plane. She could be anywhere. He could spend the rest of eternity looking for her.

  Then he got control of himself. At least he could make the effort. He closed his eyes and conjured up a picture of the bedroom in the Belford Penthouse. He visualized until he perspired, but nothing happened.

  He finally decided that possibly one couldn’t make the swift trips while sitting down. He got to his feet and tried again. Success. The cold air rushed by his ears. Then the wind stopped and he opened his eyes.

  A fat man was sitting on the edge of the bed taking off his shoes. The fat wife of the man—it would have to be his wife—came waddling out of the bathroom in a slip that looked like a tent.

  Dorn stared at them with disgust and disappointment. As the man went for his pants, Dorn closed his eyes and visualized the downstairs cafeteria. This trip took but a moment and there was scarcely any wind.

  But he felt a sudden surge of happiness arid relief, because Sally sat at one of the tables sipping moodily at a cup of coffee. Dorn called her name.

  Sally sprang to her feet. She knocked her coffee cup to the floor with a crash, but no one in the cafeteria paid the ]east attention. Sally ran forward.

  “Dorn! Oh, Dorn! You’re all right! You’re safe!”

  Sally’s happiness was deep and sincere. “Sit down, Dorn. I’ll get you a cup of coffee. Or would you rather have tea?”

  “Coffee is all right. And bring a dish of pink ice cream.”

  SALLY WALKED through five people filling the order and brought it back to the table so quickly, it appeared she was afraid Dorn would vanish again.

  As he sipped the coffee, she sat opposite him, drinking him in with her eyes.

  “I was so frightened. You were holding—or doing whatever it was you were doing to me there by the golf course, and suddenly your aura was gone. That frightened me, but when you just faded away—disappeared into thin air—I didn’t know what to do. I sat there until it got too cold and then came back here. I was hoping against hope—”

  “That I’d turn up again?”

  “Yes. I got awfully lonely. Where on earth did you go?”

  Dorn set his cup down and frowned. “I don’t know, but I went somewhere to have a nightmare, arid I certainly had a lulu. I landed in some kind of laboratory kissing a character with an eight-day growth on his face. He waved his arms over the place and said he’d brought me back to life.”

  Dorn grinned at Sally. “You should have warned me about the dreams people have on this plane; dreams that scare them out of their boots and make them disappear for hours at a time. A little like, the benders people go on down there.”

  Sally’s solemn b!ue eyes were upon him. “But there aren’t any dreams up here. No one ever dreams. It’s—it’s impossible.”

  “Dreams aren’t impossible. I just had one.”

  “No, Dorn. What you went through really happened.”

  “Bosh!”

  Sally leaned forward, a worried frown on her face. “Dorn, I wish I could make you take these things seriously.

  He looked at her with a certain dreaminess in his eyes. “It’s the same with me. I can think of something right now I wish you’d take seriously.”

  “Please don’t be frivolous. I’m going to tell you what’s been happening.

  This so-called madman you refer to is real. What you told me explains a lot that has happened. He’s evidently been trying to bring you back to life. That time you got stuck in the wall was once he almost succeeded. Then in the cafeteria, and at your home in Stonegate. Don’t you see? When we were out by the golf course he finally succeeded, and you were drawn back into your body.”

  Dorn studied her eyes. He thought they were the nicest eyes he’d ever seen. He allowe
d his own eyes to drop lower and continue the study. He thought also that those were the nicest he’d ever seen. He stopped studying at the point where the table edge made it impractical.

  There he gave a few moments to self-analysis. He was beginning, in some ways, to like this limbo or purgatory or whatever it was. Never in his life had he felt so utterly carefree and irresponsible.

  He had never before felt so virile, so intensely masculine. This brought a touch of sadness. He’d heard a joke once about hell and what made it what it was. A ribald joke not for polite company. But there had certainly been a germ of truth behind it.

  He sighed. “I guess a man can’t have everything,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Looking at Sally, he had a sudden urge to continue the activities of the golf course; the activities so rudely interrupted by his quick trip to the north woods.

  Dorn sighed. Not worthwhile. It takes two, he thought, to make a bargain, a fight, and the thing he was thinking about…

  “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing at all. Let’s go home—I mean, let’s go find a home—and go to bed.”

  Sally pushed back her chair. “I think it’s about time.”

  As they left the cafeteria, Dorn made a wry face…‘and go to bed’.

  He could clearly remember when that phrase conjured up all sort of pleasant possibilities. Here on the higher plane it only meant that you were tired.

  Well, after all, he was tired.

  THEY DIDN’T go to the Belford that night. For some reason, the luxury of the place failed to attract Dorn. He wondered why, and thus learned a lesson in psychology. It was too late, of course, to do him any good, but he learned it nonetheless. That luxury in itself lost a great deal of its attractiveness when he had no neighbors to envy him for being able to afford it.

  They walked down the street and picked the first hotel they found; discovered a vacant room with twin beds on the fifth floor and turned in.

  But hardly had they gotten to sleep, when they were awakened to discover the room was no longer vacant. A bellhop came in, left a suitcase, a young couple and a smile, and departed with a dollar bill.

  Dorn sat up and looked them over. The girl, he decided, wasn’t bad. Of the young man, he forebore any opinion, feeling himself not qualified. He sought an opinion from Sally, feeling that she was—at least partially—qualified

  “What do you think of him?”

  Sally was also sitting up in bed hugging her knees to her bosom. “‘He’s nice.”

  “I’ll make a bet with you.”

  Sally stared with no reaction whatever at the passionate clinch into which the couple had gone. They had become deeply involved in this clinch not more than two and one half seconds after the bellhop had closed the door.

  “What do you want to bet?”

  “That there’s nothing whatever in that suitcase.”

  -‘That’s absurd. Why would a married couple come to a hotel with an empty suitcase?”.

  “To carry away their memories, possibly, but who said anything about their being—anyhow, I’ll bet you it’s empty.”

  Dorn jumped from the bed and opened the suitcase. “I was wrong,” he said.

  Sally craned her neck. “What’S in it?” .

  “Bricks. Five bricks.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  Sally’s interest was centered upon the newcomers. She pointed with frank amazement. “Look. Look what he’s doing.” ‘

  “What did you expect him to do?”

  The interlude was ended when the girl broke away and ran-toward the bathroom door. Dorn took a—quick step in that direction. Then he stopped and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “I think we’d better check out,” he said.

  “Why? They won’t be in our way.”

  “No, but—”

  The young man walked toward Sally, sat down, and began removing his shoes.

  “I think they’re going touse your bed,” Dorn observed. “I think we’d better leave.”’

  Sally shrugged. “If you say so.”

  Dorn reached for his own shoes. There was a wistfulness in his voice as he said, “It would be nice to stay, but, after all, one can’t take an unfair advantage just because one is in a position—anyway, let’s get out of here.”

  They found another hotel, another vacant room. This one stayed vacant.

  WHEN DORN awoke, he discovered Sally up and seated at a portable table upon which was laid an ample breakfast. She was drinking coffee and reading a newspaper.

  “Where did you get all that?”

  “I went out into the hall and waited until a bellboy went by with breakfast for two. I helped myself.”

  “Darn clever of you. I’m hungry.”

  “Then get up and eat. By the way, they found your car.”

  “They did?”

  “Yes, but not your body. It has caused quite a stir. The large type reads: ‘Stonegate Realtor Vanishes’. Then it says, ‘Late last night the demolished automobile belonging to Dorn Lattimore, a prominent Stonegate realtor, was found in a lonely spot on a side road off Highway Six, some fifty miles north of Stonegate. Mystery was injected into the picture when the realtor’s body, was discovered to be nissing. The State Police have hunted far and wide for the body and have come to the conclusion that it was removed by persons unknown, or that Mr. Lattimore was not in the car at the time of the smashup.’”

  “A brilliant conclusion,” Dorn observed.

  “There’s more. ‘Mrs. Lattimore, prostrated by grief, said her husband had planned a week’s hunting in the north woods.’”

  “Poog Vicky. She loved me very much.”

  “Possibly, but she’ll get over it—the grief I mean.”

  Dorn’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. “It only mentions one car. What about the guy who hit me?”

  “Nobody hit you. It goes on: ‘The driver of the car evidently missed a turn in the road during the storm of night before last. He smashed into a smooth granite wall at terrific speed. The police are most interested in finding a body because they feel someone was certainly killed in the accident. If not Mr. Lattimore, then some person unknown who was at the wheel.”

  Dorn was pondering deeply. “All I saw was a pair of headlights. Evidently they must have been the reflection of my own lights on the smooth granite. The granite would have been wet and—”

  “No doubt. But this scientist, this man who brought you back to life?”

  “He said his name was Limpus.”

  “He must have gotten your body. Dorn, we’ve got to find him.”

  Dorn shrugged. “How can we do that if the State Police failed? They must have done some looking around. And if Limpus isn’t just a dream—if he’s for real—he couldn’t have carried me very far.

  “But we’ve got to locate him. He’s dangerous! There’s no telling what he’s doing with your body.”

  “I know what he’s doing with it. He forgot how be brought me back to life, so he killed me again, with a club, so he could start over. I hope he takes notes this time. It’s damned annoying to be continually killed just so some coot can—’

  SALLY GOT quickly up from the table. She moved close to Dorn and stood looking up into his face. “Dorn, please don’t talk that way. If he succeeded once, he can succeed again. I couldn’t bear to lose you—really I couldn’t!”

  Dorn felt a quick surge of warmth, as her face came close to his. “Angel, is this a proposal?”

  “I don’t know what it is, but—” she stopped speaking and he thought she was going to cry. “You want to kiss me, don’t you?”

  “I most certainly do.”

  “Then—then go ahead. I’ll try—hard.”

  Dorn hooked a finger under her small chin and raised her face even higher. She’d closed her eyes tight. Her red lips were pursed and ready. Her entire body was stiff and unyielding. It reminded Dorn of a potential swimmer pushing a ttoe into the first cold waters of spring.

  “N
o, angel, you’re pressing. You can’t, get the hang of it. But I’ll give you an A fpr trying.” He continued to stare down at her wistfully. “If this guy Pimpus or, Limpus would quit keeping my low animal instincts alive, maybe I could start loving on a higher plane—soul to soul, instead of—”

  He turned away quickly, his mind off on another track. “You know what we’re going to do? We’re going to visit my office. I’m curious to see how Felix is taking it.”

  “Who is Felix?”

  “My nephew. My one and only employee. My bookkeeper, secretary, and Man Friday. He’s probably fluttering all over tJie office.”.

  “We can go there if you wish.”

  “Poor old Felix.”

  “You said he was your nephew.”

  “That’s right, but Felix looked old at five. He was one of those—” Dorn bit off the last word, gulped and sat down. The bed happened to be close enough to catch him. Otherwise he’d have landed on the floor. “Holy Zeus!”

  “What on earth ‘is the matter?”

  “My insurance!”

  “What about it? Did it lapse?”

  “No, but without a body, Vicky can’t collect Forty thousand dollars. Good Lord! Without that, she’s got about as much chance of snaring another husband as a five-legged goat. You’re right, Sally. We’ve got to find Limpus and deliver my body to the coroner!”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”

  “Of course, there’s no immediate worry. My creditors will rain down, of course, but Felix can handle them. There’s nine thousand dollars cash in the safe at the office. Even after paying the bills, it will keep Vicky going for a while.. But we’ve got to find Limpus.”

  “Then finish dressing and let’s get started.”

  A FEW minutes later, Dorn stood stiffly in the middle of the room and conjured up the picture of a fantastic laboratory with electrodes arid glass jars and a great quantity of twisted copper tubing. With his eyes shut tight, he gripped Sally’s hand and awaited results.

  They caine swiftly. A sensation of great speed; a cold wind whipping past Dorn’s ears and the pressure of an air build-up against his chest, making breathing difficult.

  “Success,” Dorn said happily!

  “That isn’t what worried me.”