Complete works of peter.., p.10
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 10
"Skip it," I crack. "You gave them guys Gallat an' MacFee a hell of a break tonight, didn't you."
Then I grin.
"Well, maybe I was wrong, Goyaz," I say, "I got sorta angry with you, but perhaps I'll change my mind. Say, look at that!"
I look over his shoulder as if I was seein' something on the water. He gets up an' he turns round to look an' I let him have it. I shoot him five times through the heart an' the spine, just a couple for Gallat, two for MacFee and one for myself. He slumps over the rail. I put my foot under his legs an' I kick 'em up, an' he slides over with a plop into the water.
I look back at the saloon, everythin' is quiet there. Then I shin down the rope into my own boat, start her up an' head for the shore.
A mist is beginnin' to come up an' as the lights of the Princess Cristabel get dim I can hear the noise start. Over the water I hear the sound of a champagne cork poppin' an' somebody starts up some dance music on the radio.
Sittin' steerin' the boat an' smokin' I reckoned I was pleased with the evenin'.
Except for MacFee it was nice work.
VII. SOME MORE LOTTIE
WHEN I floated up alongside the wharf I was wondering what the set-up was going to be. I reckoned that Yonnie and Constance had had lots of time to get rid of the Goyaz boys they'd got parked around there, an' I was right about this. There was nobody around the wharf except Constance, Yonnie Malas an' Miranda, an' I must say they put on a very nice act for Miranda's benefit.
We go along an' we get the cars. Constance goes back in her own car an' Yonnie is driving my hired car back to the garage. I go back with Miranda in her car which we get out of the local garage where she left it.
Going back Miranda is burbling good an' plenty about the evenin's work. Is she pleased with herself? Anybody would think that to get into a racket that she'd just got into an' then to get yanked out of it was funny. I reckon this dame has got a screwy idea about what is good, but that's how a lot of 'em are.
You will know by this time that I am not a guy for any sorta moralisin', but it looks to me as if a lot of these dames whose fathers have made plenty money are just plain nuts. In nine cases outa ten the old boy starts as a farm hand up in some hick town, works like a nigger for about fifteen hours a day, goes into the big city and works some more an' eventually pulls a coupla lucky breaks and makes himself a few millions.
Just when he starts gettin' old, one of his kids will start sky-rocketting all round the place, gettin' into trouble looking for thrills just because they don't know any better, an' they think that's the works. I reckon that's how it was with Miranda.
Yet this dame has got a certain amount of brains.
While I am thinkin' all this she is telling me how she got into this Goyaz thing. It looks like that one night she goes out by herself an' has dinner at some swell joint. Then she goes to a theatre. Just as she is coming out some good-looking guy comes up an' tells her he met her some place in U.S. Miranda has met so many guys that she wouldn't know anyhow, so she falls for it.
This guy then proceeds to spill a lot of stuff about the Goyaz gaming boat an' of course Miranda falls for this an' chips in an' says she wants to go along. So she goes.
All this time I am waitin' for her to ask me how I knew she was down there an' all about that, an' I start thinkin' up a story for her. After a bit she notices that I am having some trouble with my arm, which by this time is feeling like an iron bar, an' she takes the wheel over.
She is driving so fast that she ain't got any time to talk, for which I am very grateful, an' I get my story all set.
I tell her that I see her coming out of the Carlton the other day, an' that I strung along to say a few kind words an' that the maid has told me she has gone off for two or three days, an' that as I was comin' out I meet one of Goyaz' boys an' we have a drink together an' this guy tells me he reckons that she was goin' down to play on the boat.
I tell her thai: I knew that Goyaz was running a crooked game an' that in any event he will probably try a snatch, so I come along there with my sister an' a friend of mine an' muscle in on the job.
She looks at me outa the corner of her eye, very old-fashioned like.
"Why didn't you go to the police, Lemmy?" she said with a little smile.
"Listen, Miranda," I say, "do you mind keeping your eye on the road otherwise we'll be in the ditch, an' as for that police stuff don't you know better than that. I don't like cops."
She laughed. I tell you this dame Miranda has got a swell laugh.
"I bet you don't, Lemmy," she says. "Say tell me, what do you do? You're a gangster, aren't you? What's your particular line of business?"
I grin. I feel that I had better make myself out to be a little hero whilst the goin' is good, so I lay it on a bit.
"Aw hell," I say, "I suppose I am maybe, but I'm being a good boy now. I ain't done a thing for a long time."
She smiles.
"Didn't you shoot a police officer in Oklahoma?" she says.
I tell her yes.
"I had to shoot this guy," I say, "if I hadn't shot him, he'd have shot me. It was just a matter of who squeezed the gun first."
I also proceed to tell her a lot more hooey about myself an' by the time I have finished with this dame she thinks I am a mixture of Paul Revere, Dick Turpin, Robin Hood an' what-have-you.
"I guess your arm's pretty bad, Lemmy," she says. "What's the matter with it?"
"Here's where you have a big laugh," I say, "but when I am gettin' over the rail of that boat tonight I have got a gun in my hand an' I slip an' it goes off, an' I give myself one through the arm. What do you know about that? I'll get it fixed up when we get back to London, it wants a new dressin', that's all."
She smiles.
"I'll do it, Lemmy," she says softly.
It is seven o'clock in the mornin' when we get back to the Carlton Hotel. We go upstairs to Miranda's suite an' she gets the maid up and sends for some stuff to do my arm with. I am pretty lucky about this arm, because it looks like the wound is clean an' there is no inflammation. I am a pretty cough guy an' I reckon in a coupla days it is goin' to be all right.
Whilst Miranda is tying up my arm I am havin' a look at the maid who is running about with the bowls and bandages. This maid is a pretty neat piece of goods an' also she looks as if she has got some brains sortie place. I think maybe I can use this jane.
When Miranda has tied up my arm we have some coffee an' I tell her I have got to get along. She says O.K. but that she wants to see some more of me an' that I should come back an' have dinner with her at nine o'clock that night. This suits me very well.
After a bit I go, Miranda is yawning her head off, an' I tell her that she needs a piece of bed. The maid shows me to the door, takes me along the corridor an' rings for the lift, I have a look at her.
"You know, honey," I say, "has anybody told you that you're: easy to look at?"
She smiles.
"I got an idea some guy told me that once," she said, "but it didn't get him any place."
"Too bad," I crack back. "We gotta do somethin' about that. What about taking a bowl of chop-suey with me one night, that is if they've got chop-suey in this country?"
She smiles again slowly. She is a cunning looking little piece.
"Well, what can I lose?" she says.
I grin.
"Well, it looks like a date, sister," I say. "Do you have any time off?"
"I shall tomorrow night," she says, "Miss van Zelden's taking dinner with some friends of hers."
"O.K.," I say.
I make a date to meet her at a restaurant I know in Greek Street, an' I go off.
I walk along Pall Mall an' up St. James's. When I get to the end of Jerymn Street I look down the street. Sure enough opposite my apartment is some guy smoking a cigarette an' lookin' tired. I reckon this is one of Siegella's boys who is keepin' an eye on my apartment just in case I get lost or somethin' an' it looks like Siegella ain't trusting me any yet.
When I get into my apartment, I give myself a shot of bourbon an' I sit down and think things out. I reckon everything is going along very nice but it looks to me that the guy that things are goin' nice for is Siegella. I also reckon that MacFee being bumped off like that has made things very difficult for me, an' I do not like that one little bit.
But I reckon it is no good trying to think anything out very much just now, I am good an' tired an' my arm is aching, so I go to bed. I reckon that bed is a great place. If more guys was to stay in bed for longer instead of gettin' around so much, there would be a lot less trouble in the world.
Now it is six o'clock that evening when the valet at the apartment comes in an' tells me that there is a gentleman of the name of Siegella would like to have a few words with me. I say O.K. an' to show him in an' also to bring some whisky an' some coffee.
In a minute he comes back an' Siegella is with him. The wop is lookin' very good. He has got evening clothes on with a white tie, an' I reckon the pearls in his shirt front cost a whole lotta money.
I sit up in bed an' I yawn.
"Well, how does it go, Siegella?" I say.
He sits down and gives himself a cigarette out of a platinum case. He has got a thin mouth an' it is smiling. I reckon Siegella is one of them guys who always smiles with his mouth an' never with his eyes. They are always just cold an' hard, just like bits of blue ice. Most big mobsters have got eyes like that. He lights his cigarette an' he takes a few puffs, then he looks at me.
"You know, Lemmy," he says, "I got to hand it to you, the way you handled this situation aboard the Princess Crisabel last night. You can be good when you want to."
"Aw, hell," I say, "you're telling me. That was easy stuff an' anyway who the hell is Goyaz?"
He grins and blows a ring of smoke across the room.
"Well, I reckon Goyaz ain't goin' to worry anybody no more," he says.
He looks at me straight in the eye.
"What do you mean, Siegella?" I say.
"I mean it was nice work, Lemmy," he says. "That guy is better outa the way than stickin' around. I'm very glad you gave him the heat."
"You don't say," I crack back, "an' how d'yoii know I gave him the heat?"
He grins. He has got very nice teeth.
"What do you think I was doing last night, Lemmy?" he says. "When Constance came through on the telephone an' told me that Goyaz had got Miranda on that boat, it didn't look so good to me, specially when I heard that Lottie and that mob had held you up on Baker Street. So I got around. You didn't know it," says he, "but myself an' six of the boys was hangin' around on the sea side of the Princess Cristabel for three hours last night just in case you slipped up.
"After we saw you introduce Goyaz to the high diving act over the stern rail I reckoned we could call it a day, so we went home."
"Oh, well," I say, "These things happen along, an' I reckon Goyaz was gettin' too fresh."
He nods.
"You didn't do so badly last night, did you, Lemmy?" he says. "Did you give that 10,000 back to Miss van Zelden, the ten grand she lost?"
"What do you think?" I say. "Of course I did." which was quite true. "An'," I go on, "I made another ten grand on the deal that I took outa Goyaz that I didn't give her. She didn't have to make a profit anyway."
"That's O.K." says he. "Well, you ain't doin' so bad, are you, Lemmy? You get ten grand from me for expenses, you get ten grand out of Goyaz an' the pleasure of bumping him. Are you satisfied?"
"You bet I'm satisfied, Siegella," I tell him. "I got medals for looking after myself too."
He grins again and pours himself out a little shot of bourbon.
"That's the way I want it to be, Lemmy," he says. "I like everybody to be happy. I think you are a good guy, an' I think you're doin' your stuff nice an' pretty. So just so you'll feel good an' comfortable here's another five grand."
He puts five monkeys down on the table an' stands there smilin'.
"That's to pay for the arm," he says. "You know, Lemmy," he goes on, "I got a lot of ideas about you an' me. I reckon that when we have pulled this Miranda snatch after things have blown over, we'll go back to the U.S. an' we'll run every mob in the country."
I laugh.
"Listen, Siegella," I say, "when I get my cut outa this I don't have to be a mobster no more. 250 grand is good enough for me."
He laughs.
"What are you goin' to do, Lemmy?" he says.
"I wouldn't know," I say, "but I've got a whole lot of ideas about chicken farmin'."
He brings me over a shot of bourbon, which I drink. As he hands me the glass I look at his long white fingers. I reckon if hands can be cruel this guy has got the cruellest pair in the world.
"I can imagine you on a chicken farm, Lemmy," he says. "I reckon you'd be screwing their necks every day just to keep your hand in. But now let's get down to cases."
He draws up a chair by the bedside an' he lights another cigarette. I have one myself an' I look at him through the smoke.
"I reckon we get a move on this weekend," he says. "Today is Wednesday. On Friday I'm taking the boys down to the house I am taking. It is a place called Branders End near Thame. Now this is a fine old place an' I reckon I shall have about thirty couples down there. They are all very nice an' they all know me very well. Now have you got the set-up for gettin' Miranda down there?"
"That's easy," I tell him. "Miranda is strong for me, especially after this Princess Cristabel business. I'm dinin' with her tonight. But I'm not goin' to say anything about the weekend. Between now an' then I will pull some story on her about being in a little bit of trouble myself, somethin' that necessitates her coming down to this Branders End dump with me, somethin' that is so personal and confidential that she don't even tell nobody that she's going. Well, I reckon I got her out of a coupla jams an' I reckon she's just got to say yes."
Siegella grins, then he passes his tongue over his lips, a habit he's got.
"That's the lay, Lemmy," he says. "You get her down there on Saturday night, an' then you're very nearly through."
"An' after that?" I ask.
"That's easy," he says. "Your job's very nearly done. You come back here on Sunday an' you put the call through to a man in New York whose address I'm goin' to give you when you get down there. This guy will arrange that on Monday morning van Zelden himself will ring you an' you'll spill the beans to him.
"You'll tell him that his daughter's been snatched an' that she'll be moved outa England within two or three days. You'll tell him that we're goin' to give him one week to get that three million credit in the Dutch Bank, Rotterdam. If he don't," says Siegella and here he starts to grin some more " you can tell him that we've got a very swell idea. Ask him if he knows what his daughter's teeth look like, because every day after the week that the credit is late we're goin' to send him one of her teeth by registered post, an' you point out that we ain't goin' to give her gas either when we take 'em out."
He gets up.
"I'll be gettin' along, Lemmy," he says. "There's just one little point I'd like to mention before I go. You've got a lotta brains, an' you're tough. Maybe you think you've got as much brains as I have. Well, that's all right, but don't try anything remember you can't do a thing or go any place unless I know it. It ain't because I don't trust you particularly, Lemmy," he says, "it's just because I'm a guy that don't take any chances, an' I tell you that if you try to cross me, I'll know about it before you've done it, and I'll get you."
He stands there looking at me like a whole bunch of snakes.
I grin.
"Listen, Siegella," I say. "What do I do, get frightened and take a run-out powder? Be your age. I reckon it's payin' me to string along with you an' I'm stringin'. I want that 250 grand."
"O.K. Lemmy," he says. "Do your stuff an' you'll get it. So long!"
He goes out.
After the wop had gone I lay flat in bed smoking an' looking at the ceiling. You gotta understand that I am pretty burned up about this big punk Siegella. He is just one piece too durn sure of himself for one thing, an' secondly I reckon he is right when he says that he has got a whole lotta brains an' wisecracks me about thinkin' I have got as much as he has. Well, maybe I have an' maybe I haven't, but I reckoned that before I was through I was goin' to pull a fast one on that thin-faced grinnin' baby that he wouldn't forget in a helluva hurry.
But I gotta watch my step. When he said that if I crossed him he'd get me he was about right. An' when I remembered all the stunts that Siegella had pulled in the States I calculated that I had got to be pretty good to pull one on him. Feds, State coppers, an' every other sorta copper had been tryin' to get their hooks on him for years an' they never had a dog's chance because that baby never come out in the open but always has somebody frontin' for him whilst he financed the jobs and thought out the: set-ups.
Siegella had the low-down on most of the cheap mobsters, because he had education in a sorta way an' because nobody ever knew who was working for him an' who wasn't.
But the idea of me goin' in with him in a big way after we had pulled this Miranda snatch, made me laugh in about sixteen places at once. I reckoned I would as soon string along with Siegella as go to bed with a coupla boa-constrictors in fact I would rather kick around with the snakes.
An' it sure looked as if he had got me well tied up over the Miranda snatch. I had been relyin' on MacFee to give me a hand when we come down to the brass end of things an' that silly palooka has to go an' get himself shot up just at the time that I needed him.
I was worryin' around tryin' to think up something that I could pull good and fast before the weekend. It was stickin' out like the Manilla Bay pier that if once he got Miranda down to the Branders End place he would get me back to London so as to put through the long-distance call for the ransom an' then I could scram out of it an' get back to U.S. an' collect my dough an' go to sleep.
I am sure in one big spot because now that MacFee is dead there ain't anybody I could trust so's you would notice it. I can't wiseup Miranda as to what is goin' to happen because she would simply scram outa the country an' Siegella would get her some other place as certain as sure, an' it looks to me as if the only other way I could spoil his racket is by goin' an' blowin' the gaff to the coppers here. An' that just now would be bughouse anyway because Siegella hadn't got any record in any country the coppers had never had their hooks into him any place at all, an' he would simply laugh the whole durn thing off an' wait until he could get Miranda over in France or Spain or some other place, an' snatch her there.
Then I grin.
"Well, maybe I was wrong, Goyaz," I say, "I got sorta angry with you, but perhaps I'll change my mind. Say, look at that!"
I look over his shoulder as if I was seein' something on the water. He gets up an' he turns round to look an' I let him have it. I shoot him five times through the heart an' the spine, just a couple for Gallat, two for MacFee and one for myself. He slumps over the rail. I put my foot under his legs an' I kick 'em up, an' he slides over with a plop into the water.
I look back at the saloon, everythin' is quiet there. Then I shin down the rope into my own boat, start her up an' head for the shore.
A mist is beginnin' to come up an' as the lights of the Princess Cristabel get dim I can hear the noise start. Over the water I hear the sound of a champagne cork poppin' an' somebody starts up some dance music on the radio.
Sittin' steerin' the boat an' smokin' I reckoned I was pleased with the evenin'.
Except for MacFee it was nice work.
VII. SOME MORE LOTTIE
WHEN I floated up alongside the wharf I was wondering what the set-up was going to be. I reckoned that Yonnie and Constance had had lots of time to get rid of the Goyaz boys they'd got parked around there, an' I was right about this. There was nobody around the wharf except Constance, Yonnie Malas an' Miranda, an' I must say they put on a very nice act for Miranda's benefit.
We go along an' we get the cars. Constance goes back in her own car an' Yonnie is driving my hired car back to the garage. I go back with Miranda in her car which we get out of the local garage where she left it.
Going back Miranda is burbling good an' plenty about the evenin's work. Is she pleased with herself? Anybody would think that to get into a racket that she'd just got into an' then to get yanked out of it was funny. I reckon this dame has got a screwy idea about what is good, but that's how a lot of 'em are.
You will know by this time that I am not a guy for any sorta moralisin', but it looks to me as if a lot of these dames whose fathers have made plenty money are just plain nuts. In nine cases outa ten the old boy starts as a farm hand up in some hick town, works like a nigger for about fifteen hours a day, goes into the big city and works some more an' eventually pulls a coupla lucky breaks and makes himself a few millions.
Just when he starts gettin' old, one of his kids will start sky-rocketting all round the place, gettin' into trouble looking for thrills just because they don't know any better, an' they think that's the works. I reckon that's how it was with Miranda.
Yet this dame has got a certain amount of brains.
While I am thinkin' all this she is telling me how she got into this Goyaz thing. It looks like that one night she goes out by herself an' has dinner at some swell joint. Then she goes to a theatre. Just as she is coming out some good-looking guy comes up an' tells her he met her some place in U.S. Miranda has met so many guys that she wouldn't know anyhow, so she falls for it.
This guy then proceeds to spill a lot of stuff about the Goyaz gaming boat an' of course Miranda falls for this an' chips in an' says she wants to go along. So she goes.
All this time I am waitin' for her to ask me how I knew she was down there an' all about that, an' I start thinkin' up a story for her. After a bit she notices that I am having some trouble with my arm, which by this time is feeling like an iron bar, an' she takes the wheel over.
She is driving so fast that she ain't got any time to talk, for which I am very grateful, an' I get my story all set.
I tell her that I see her coming out of the Carlton the other day, an' that I strung along to say a few kind words an' that the maid has told me she has gone off for two or three days, an' that as I was comin' out I meet one of Goyaz' boys an' we have a drink together an' this guy tells me he reckons that she was goin' down to play on the boat.
I tell her thai: I knew that Goyaz was running a crooked game an' that in any event he will probably try a snatch, so I come along there with my sister an' a friend of mine an' muscle in on the job.
She looks at me outa the corner of her eye, very old-fashioned like.
"Why didn't you go to the police, Lemmy?" she said with a little smile.
"Listen, Miranda," I say, "do you mind keeping your eye on the road otherwise we'll be in the ditch, an' as for that police stuff don't you know better than that. I don't like cops."
She laughed. I tell you this dame Miranda has got a swell laugh.
"I bet you don't, Lemmy," she says. "Say tell me, what do you do? You're a gangster, aren't you? What's your particular line of business?"
I grin. I feel that I had better make myself out to be a little hero whilst the goin' is good, so I lay it on a bit.
"Aw hell," I say, "I suppose I am maybe, but I'm being a good boy now. I ain't done a thing for a long time."
She smiles.
"Didn't you shoot a police officer in Oklahoma?" she says.
I tell her yes.
"I had to shoot this guy," I say, "if I hadn't shot him, he'd have shot me. It was just a matter of who squeezed the gun first."
I also proceed to tell her a lot more hooey about myself an' by the time I have finished with this dame she thinks I am a mixture of Paul Revere, Dick Turpin, Robin Hood an' what-have-you.
"I guess your arm's pretty bad, Lemmy," she says. "What's the matter with it?"
"Here's where you have a big laugh," I say, "but when I am gettin' over the rail of that boat tonight I have got a gun in my hand an' I slip an' it goes off, an' I give myself one through the arm. What do you know about that? I'll get it fixed up when we get back to London, it wants a new dressin', that's all."
She smiles.
"I'll do it, Lemmy," she says softly.
It is seven o'clock in the mornin' when we get back to the Carlton Hotel. We go upstairs to Miranda's suite an' she gets the maid up and sends for some stuff to do my arm with. I am pretty lucky about this arm, because it looks like the wound is clean an' there is no inflammation. I am a pretty cough guy an' I reckon in a coupla days it is goin' to be all right.
Whilst Miranda is tying up my arm I am havin' a look at the maid who is running about with the bowls and bandages. This maid is a pretty neat piece of goods an' also she looks as if she has got some brains sortie place. I think maybe I can use this jane.
When Miranda has tied up my arm we have some coffee an' I tell her I have got to get along. She says O.K. but that she wants to see some more of me an' that I should come back an' have dinner with her at nine o'clock that night. This suits me very well.
After a bit I go, Miranda is yawning her head off, an' I tell her that she needs a piece of bed. The maid shows me to the door, takes me along the corridor an' rings for the lift, I have a look at her.
"You know, honey," I say, "has anybody told you that you're: easy to look at?"
She smiles.
"I got an idea some guy told me that once," she said, "but it didn't get him any place."
"Too bad," I crack back. "We gotta do somethin' about that. What about taking a bowl of chop-suey with me one night, that is if they've got chop-suey in this country?"
She smiles again slowly. She is a cunning looking little piece.
"Well, what can I lose?" she says.
I grin.
"Well, it looks like a date, sister," I say. "Do you have any time off?"
"I shall tomorrow night," she says, "Miss van Zelden's taking dinner with some friends of hers."
"O.K.," I say.
I make a date to meet her at a restaurant I know in Greek Street, an' I go off.
I walk along Pall Mall an' up St. James's. When I get to the end of Jerymn Street I look down the street. Sure enough opposite my apartment is some guy smoking a cigarette an' lookin' tired. I reckon this is one of Siegella's boys who is keepin' an eye on my apartment just in case I get lost or somethin' an' it looks like Siegella ain't trusting me any yet.
When I get into my apartment, I give myself a shot of bourbon an' I sit down and think things out. I reckon everything is going along very nice but it looks to me that the guy that things are goin' nice for is Siegella. I also reckon that MacFee being bumped off like that has made things very difficult for me, an' I do not like that one little bit.
But I reckon it is no good trying to think anything out very much just now, I am good an' tired an' my arm is aching, so I go to bed. I reckon that bed is a great place. If more guys was to stay in bed for longer instead of gettin' around so much, there would be a lot less trouble in the world.
Now it is six o'clock that evening when the valet at the apartment comes in an' tells me that there is a gentleman of the name of Siegella would like to have a few words with me. I say O.K. an' to show him in an' also to bring some whisky an' some coffee.
In a minute he comes back an' Siegella is with him. The wop is lookin' very good. He has got evening clothes on with a white tie, an' I reckon the pearls in his shirt front cost a whole lotta money.
I sit up in bed an' I yawn.
"Well, how does it go, Siegella?" I say.
He sits down and gives himself a cigarette out of a platinum case. He has got a thin mouth an' it is smiling. I reckon Siegella is one of them guys who always smiles with his mouth an' never with his eyes. They are always just cold an' hard, just like bits of blue ice. Most big mobsters have got eyes like that. He lights his cigarette an' he takes a few puffs, then he looks at me.
"You know, Lemmy," he says, "I got to hand it to you, the way you handled this situation aboard the Princess Crisabel last night. You can be good when you want to."
"Aw, hell," I say, "you're telling me. That was easy stuff an' anyway who the hell is Goyaz?"
He grins and blows a ring of smoke across the room.
"Well, I reckon Goyaz ain't goin' to worry anybody no more," he says.
He looks at me straight in the eye.
"What do you mean, Siegella?" I say.
"I mean it was nice work, Lemmy," he says. "That guy is better outa the way than stickin' around. I'm very glad you gave him the heat."
"You don't say," I crack back, "an' how d'yoii know I gave him the heat?"
He grins. He has got very nice teeth.
"What do you think I was doing last night, Lemmy?" he says. "When Constance came through on the telephone an' told me that Goyaz had got Miranda on that boat, it didn't look so good to me, specially when I heard that Lottie and that mob had held you up on Baker Street. So I got around. You didn't know it," says he, "but myself an' six of the boys was hangin' around on the sea side of the Princess Cristabel for three hours last night just in case you slipped up.
"After we saw you introduce Goyaz to the high diving act over the stern rail I reckoned we could call it a day, so we went home."
"Oh, well," I say, "These things happen along, an' I reckon Goyaz was gettin' too fresh."
He nods.
"You didn't do so badly last night, did you, Lemmy?" he says. "Did you give that 10,000 back to Miss van Zelden, the ten grand she lost?"
"What do you think?" I say. "Of course I did." which was quite true. "An'," I go on, "I made another ten grand on the deal that I took outa Goyaz that I didn't give her. She didn't have to make a profit anyway."
"That's O.K." says he. "Well, you ain't doin' so bad, are you, Lemmy? You get ten grand from me for expenses, you get ten grand out of Goyaz an' the pleasure of bumping him. Are you satisfied?"
"You bet I'm satisfied, Siegella," I tell him. "I got medals for looking after myself too."
He grins again and pours himself out a little shot of bourbon.
"That's the way I want it to be, Lemmy," he says. "I like everybody to be happy. I think you are a good guy, an' I think you're doin' your stuff nice an' pretty. So just so you'll feel good an' comfortable here's another five grand."
He puts five monkeys down on the table an' stands there smilin'.
"That's to pay for the arm," he says. "You know, Lemmy," he goes on, "I got a lot of ideas about you an' me. I reckon that when we have pulled this Miranda snatch after things have blown over, we'll go back to the U.S. an' we'll run every mob in the country."
I laugh.
"Listen, Siegella," I say, "when I get my cut outa this I don't have to be a mobster no more. 250 grand is good enough for me."
He laughs.
"What are you goin' to do, Lemmy?" he says.
"I wouldn't know," I say, "but I've got a whole lot of ideas about chicken farmin'."
He brings me over a shot of bourbon, which I drink. As he hands me the glass I look at his long white fingers. I reckon if hands can be cruel this guy has got the cruellest pair in the world.
"I can imagine you on a chicken farm, Lemmy," he says. "I reckon you'd be screwing their necks every day just to keep your hand in. But now let's get down to cases."
He draws up a chair by the bedside an' he lights another cigarette. I have one myself an' I look at him through the smoke.
"I reckon we get a move on this weekend," he says. "Today is Wednesday. On Friday I'm taking the boys down to the house I am taking. It is a place called Branders End near Thame. Now this is a fine old place an' I reckon I shall have about thirty couples down there. They are all very nice an' they all know me very well. Now have you got the set-up for gettin' Miranda down there?"
"That's easy," I tell him. "Miranda is strong for me, especially after this Princess Cristabel business. I'm dinin' with her tonight. But I'm not goin' to say anything about the weekend. Between now an' then I will pull some story on her about being in a little bit of trouble myself, somethin' that necessitates her coming down to this Branders End dump with me, somethin' that is so personal and confidential that she don't even tell nobody that she's going. Well, I reckon I got her out of a coupla jams an' I reckon she's just got to say yes."
Siegella grins, then he passes his tongue over his lips, a habit he's got.
"That's the lay, Lemmy," he says. "You get her down there on Saturday night, an' then you're very nearly through."
"An' after that?" I ask.
"That's easy," he says. "Your job's very nearly done. You come back here on Sunday an' you put the call through to a man in New York whose address I'm goin' to give you when you get down there. This guy will arrange that on Monday morning van Zelden himself will ring you an' you'll spill the beans to him.
"You'll tell him that his daughter's been snatched an' that she'll be moved outa England within two or three days. You'll tell him that we're goin' to give him one week to get that three million credit in the Dutch Bank, Rotterdam. If he don't," says Siegella and here he starts to grin some more " you can tell him that we've got a very swell idea. Ask him if he knows what his daughter's teeth look like, because every day after the week that the credit is late we're goin' to send him one of her teeth by registered post, an' you point out that we ain't goin' to give her gas either when we take 'em out."
He gets up.
"I'll be gettin' along, Lemmy," he says. "There's just one little point I'd like to mention before I go. You've got a lotta brains, an' you're tough. Maybe you think you've got as much brains as I have. Well, that's all right, but don't try anything remember you can't do a thing or go any place unless I know it. It ain't because I don't trust you particularly, Lemmy," he says, "it's just because I'm a guy that don't take any chances, an' I tell you that if you try to cross me, I'll know about it before you've done it, and I'll get you."
He stands there looking at me like a whole bunch of snakes.
I grin.
"Listen, Siegella," I say. "What do I do, get frightened and take a run-out powder? Be your age. I reckon it's payin' me to string along with you an' I'm stringin'. I want that 250 grand."
"O.K. Lemmy," he says. "Do your stuff an' you'll get it. So long!"
He goes out.
After the wop had gone I lay flat in bed smoking an' looking at the ceiling. You gotta understand that I am pretty burned up about this big punk Siegella. He is just one piece too durn sure of himself for one thing, an' secondly I reckon he is right when he says that he has got a whole lotta brains an' wisecracks me about thinkin' I have got as much as he has. Well, maybe I have an' maybe I haven't, but I reckoned that before I was through I was goin' to pull a fast one on that thin-faced grinnin' baby that he wouldn't forget in a helluva hurry.
But I gotta watch my step. When he said that if I crossed him he'd get me he was about right. An' when I remembered all the stunts that Siegella had pulled in the States I calculated that I had got to be pretty good to pull one on him. Feds, State coppers, an' every other sorta copper had been tryin' to get their hooks on him for years an' they never had a dog's chance because that baby never come out in the open but always has somebody frontin' for him whilst he financed the jobs and thought out the: set-ups.
Siegella had the low-down on most of the cheap mobsters, because he had education in a sorta way an' because nobody ever knew who was working for him an' who wasn't.
But the idea of me goin' in with him in a big way after we had pulled this Miranda snatch, made me laugh in about sixteen places at once. I reckoned I would as soon string along with Siegella as go to bed with a coupla boa-constrictors in fact I would rather kick around with the snakes.
An' it sure looked as if he had got me well tied up over the Miranda snatch. I had been relyin' on MacFee to give me a hand when we come down to the brass end of things an' that silly palooka has to go an' get himself shot up just at the time that I needed him.
I was worryin' around tryin' to think up something that I could pull good and fast before the weekend. It was stickin' out like the Manilla Bay pier that if once he got Miranda down to the Branders End place he would get me back to London so as to put through the long-distance call for the ransom an' then I could scram out of it an' get back to U.S. an' collect my dough an' go to sleep.
I am sure in one big spot because now that MacFee is dead there ain't anybody I could trust so's you would notice it. I can't wiseup Miranda as to what is goin' to happen because she would simply scram outa the country an' Siegella would get her some other place as certain as sure, an' it looks to me as if the only other way I could spoil his racket is by goin' an' blowin' the gaff to the coppers here. An' that just now would be bughouse anyway because Siegella hadn't got any record in any country the coppers had never had their hooks into him any place at all, an' he would simply laugh the whole durn thing off an' wait until he could get Miranda over in France or Spain or some other place, an' snatch her there.
