Complete works of peter.., p.100
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 100
I knock on the door an' she says come in. I go in.
She is standin' by the table smilin', with her hand sorta held out ready for me to take. She is wearin' some soft, blue sorta wrap thing that goes with her eyes an' if I did not know that she was one of Satan's own sisters-in-law an' a pretty fly one at that I would think that a large lump of butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. She has got that innocent sorta pan that makes you wanta think that it musta been the other guy's fault all the time an' that she couldn't blot her copy-book even if she tried.
I reckon I will play this baby along for a bit.
"Sit down, Georgette," I tell her. "I wanta talk to you an' it's important. Just sorta relax an' let's concentrate on what we gotta do."
"All right, Lemmy," she says.
She sends me over a smile guaranteed to knock the stuffin' out of a brass monkey. Then she goes over to the big chair an' sits down. I'm tellin' you she is just too cute for words. Before she fixes her wrap I get a quick look at a piece of leg an' I'm tellin' you that whoever it was designed this dame oughta get a prize even if she is coloured dark black inside.
"O.K.," I tell her. "Well, here is the position. We're over here an' I'm supposed to be Tony Scalla. Well, it's stickin' out a foot that whoever you are supposed to contact when you go to the Armine Lodge to-morrow might be one of Yatlin's boys who knew Scalla in the old days. That bein' so he'd know I wasn't Scalla an' he'd start smellin' a rat."
She nods.
"You mustn't go there, Lemmy," she says. "I must go alone. You ought to keep in the background until I find out who is there."
"That's very nice of you, Georgette," I say, tryin' hard to stop myself vaultin' across the room an' smackin' her a king smack where it would hurt her most. "I reckon that's very sweet an' brave of you. O.K. Well, how do you suggest you play this thing?"
She thinks for a minute. Then:
"I think I ought to go out to Neuilly to-morrow morning," she says. "When I get there I go straight to the Armine Lodge and tell whoever is there that I am Mrs. Istria and that I have come there at the request of Zellara.
"I don't suppose there will be anybody very important there," she goes on. "I expect they will have somebody there who doesn't matter very much and who knows very little of what is going on. But I expect there will be a telephone and when I arrive some one will telephone through and give some further instructions. They will tell me to go on to some other place and take the Jamieson formula. Directly I get this instruction I return here and report to you."
I look at her an' I grin.
"An' so you think they'll do that, do you?" I tell her. I give an imitation of the way she talks. "You think they'll tell you to take the Jamieson formula to some other place, an' you're goin' to come back here an' tell me where."
I chuck my hat in the corner. I go over an' I stand lookin' down at her.
"You think I'm the world's best sap, don't you, Mrs. Double-Cross?" I tell her. "You think I'm still fallin' for all this punk that you've pulled on me. Well, if I was to tell you what I think about you an' your lousy supposed brother Tony Scalla, and your lousy husband that you was so keen on gettin' away from, I reckon it would take me about fourteen years an' I would only stop then because I couldn't think up any new words."
She goes as white as a sheet. She looks at me like she has seen a coupla ghosts.
"I don't understand," she says.... "Tony Scalla... my brother.... Why that's ridiculous."
"You bet it's ridiculous, Gorgeous," I say. "I reckon if the truth was told Tony Scalla has been your boy friend for years an' probably sharin' you with the late Jake an' anybody else who likes the looks of you. Now shut up an' get this, because I'm tired of lookin' at that sweet an' beautiful an' pure face of yours an' because it's about time that you an' me understood one another.
"I've heard from Washington. The formula that I took outa Jake Istria's wall safe in the library at the Depeene Hotel was a fake, an' you knew it. Pinny Yatlin never left Mexico City. He was shot there a coupla days ago. I reckon I knew who fixed for him to get shot an' that was your friend Fernanda Martinas an' the one who did it was her sister Zellara an' you knew she was goin' to do it.
"When Jake Istria got the wire that I made Zellara send him he thought up a sweet one or maybe you thought it up for him. The scheme was one hundred per cent water-tight. Tony Scalla meets me an' tells me a helluva story about bein' your brother an' that you an' he are scared stiff an' wanta get right out of this business. I fall for that one. He tells me that you hate your husband who has given you a lousy deal an' that you'd do anything to get away from him an' get a clean slate by helpin' the law. I fall for that one too. I am a little prize sap, ain't I? I fall for everything!
"All Jake an' you an' Scalla want is to get time so that Jake can hand over the real Jamieson formula to Scalla who will hang around New York until I get the fake one an' send it to Washington. You know that the watch will be taken off the ports then an' Tony can get a boat a day or two days ahead of me. Then he joins up here in France with Fernanda who is already over here, an' then she has got both halves of the formula. She has got somethin' she can trade with.
"She has got somethin' that is goin' to stop the whole durn lot of us dead in our tracks, an' I reckon that all she is doin' now is sittin' down with a pencil an' paper and workin' out just how much dough she wants from the U.S. Government before she returns the Jamieson an' Grearson formulas or else...
"You put the big scheme up to me about you an' me pretendin' to come over here with the formula. You knew that I'd ask you to ring through to Zellara to find out where you was to make your contact. The very fact that you rang through to her is goin' to tell her that the time has come to bump Yatlin so that, with Yatlin out of the way an' Istria in jail or dead, you an' Fernanda can run the whole goddam business the way you want it run an' take all the dough.
"O.K. An' you also know that when you get here I've got to let you go to the Armine Lodge on your own in case I get recognised by somebody as not bein' Tony Scalla, an' you reckon to take that opportunity of takin' a run-out powder on me an' joinin' up with the rest of the mob an' blowin' me sweet raspberries from afar.
"Well... it was a swell scheme an' most of it's come off. Fernanda's got both halves of the formula. I reckon we got to do a deal with her on her terms to get 'em back an' I reckon she's goin' to charge plenty for the privilege.
"But I'll tell you one thing that certainly is not goin' to happen. You're not makin' a getaway. I'm goin' to make a certainty of one pinch in this case an' that pinch is goin' to be Mrs. Georgette Istria.
"An' that sorta surprises you, don't it? Because you thought that I couldn't do that there in France. You thought that you'd be safe here anyhow. Well, you're not. You forgot one thing.
"There is a bit of the United States right here in Paris. An' that is the U.S. Embassy. Once I got you there I've got you on United States territory.
"I'm goin' to take you around there now. I'm goin' to stick you in there an' they're goin' to keep you nice an' safe until I've fixed with Washington to frame some sweet charges against you, after which you'll be extradited back to the United States, and by the time I'm through you're goin' to get such a helluva sentence that it woulda been cheaper for you not to have been born at all.
"An' how do you like that, you beautiful gorgeous creature? Also," I go on, "you can shut up an' say nothin' because there is nothin' that you could think up that I wanta listen to".
She gives a long sorta shudderin' gasp. Her eyes look like purple coals. I reckon that if she coulda got away with it she'd have torn me in little pieces with her fingernails.
I take a look around the room. Her baggage is not unpacked except one case an' through the open door leadin' to the bedroom I can see her frock lyin' over the back of a chair.
She is still sittin' in the chair lookin' at me with them big eyes, strugglin' to tell me what she thinks about me.
"Just scram inside the bedroom an' put your frock on," I tell her. "An' keep your mouth shut because anything you say would only make me feel ill. An' while you are puttin' on your frock you can leave the door open because I am not takin' any more chances on you. After which you can come back here an' we'll scram. You can take one suitcase with you the little one. Get goin', sister!"
She gets up an' goes inta the bedroom. She takes off her wrap an' slips inta her frock, puts on a fur coat an' a little hat an' comes back.
I stand there watchin' her while she is puttin' the bottles she has brought from the dressin' table into the suitcase.
She don't look in my direction at all. When she closes down the lid of the suitcase she has got her back to me. As the lid shuts she snaps around an' I see that I am lookin' inta the business end of a baby automatic. It must have been in the suitcase.
"Don't move," she says. "If you do I shall kill you. Just stand where you are and put your hands up. And keep quiet please. You've made quite enough noise for one session."
She is smilin' now. I reckon she thinks this is a swell joke.
I stand there an' watch her. I reckon that I have got so used to bein' taken for a ride by dames over this case that nothin' at all would surprise me. If this baby was just to disappear in a flash of blue flame you wouldn't hear a crack outa me. I guess I am so washed up that I wouldn't even recognise myself in a shavin' mirror.
She walks across to the telephone. Even though I am hatin' this dame's guts more than I care to say I still gotta admire the way she walks an' holds that gun on me as if she'd been used to doin' it all her sweet young life.
"This is Mrs. Istria speaking," she coos inta the telephone. "Will you please call a taxicab for me?"
She hangs up. Then she walks over to the wall connection to both the telephones and rips the cord out. She goes over to the bedroom door, locks it an' puts the key in her pocket. She walks over to the main door that leads to the corridor an' takes the key out of it.
She stands there by the door, lookin' at me.
"Good-night, Mr. Caution," she says.
She steps out inta the corridor, shuts the door an' I hear her lock it.
I give a big sigh an' take my coat off.
I reckon it will take me three or four minutes to bust open that door.
It is nearly two o'clock when I get back to the Wellington. When I get inside the door the night porter informs me that some guy has called in durin' the evenin' an' asked if Mr. Scalla has checked in the Mr. Scalla who arrived at Le Havre on the Paris this evenin'. They tell this bozo yes an' ask if he wants to leave any message an' he says no that it is quite all right thank you an' scrams.
So there you are. This tells me all I wanta know an' you guys know it too. There was only one guy could know that I would come over here with Georgette as Tony Scalla and that was Tony himself. He's sent guys all around the hotels findin' out if I have checked in usin' that name.
An' it tells me that my guess that Scalla has brought over the Jamieson formula is right.
An' the reason he is interested in my whereabouts is because he knows that if I'm here Georgette is here, that pretty soon she will be goin' to the Armine Lodge at Neuilly an' he is probably makin' arrangements to pick her up some place.
Well, he needn't have worried because if I know anythin' about Georgette she has gone streakin' out to Neuilly, laughin' all over her face an' all ready to fall inta Tony's arms an' have a big horse laugh at little Lemmy, Public Sap No. 1, the little old guy who is gettin' a bit slow above the ears an' bein' taken for sweet rides all the time by pretty ladies.
An' if they are laughin', well they are dead right. Me... I would be laughin' too if I was them.
I go up to my room an' give myself a short shot of rye just for luck. Then I get through to Varney at the U.S. Embassy an' tell him that I have changed my mind an' that I shall not be bringin' Mrs. Istria along like I thought I was goin' to.
He says O.K. an' if it is all the same to me he will go to bed. I tell him that everything is all the same to me an' that so far as I am concerned everybody can go to hell an' play skittles for all I care.
He says quite so, sorta old-fashioned, an' hangs up.
I take off my coat an' lie down on the bed an' wonder what the next move in the game is goin' to be. So far as I am concerned I reckon it consists of my sittin' here in this hotel waitin' until this Fernanda-Georgette combination starts sendin' in the ransom notes tellin' me just how much dough they want to return the formulas an' knowin' that I can't do a durn thing because I don't even know where they're workin' from an' because I daren't ask anybody official here in this country to help me to find 'em.
Well, if they send in a note to me tryin' to deal they gotta put some address on it, haven't they? They gotta ask for the dough to be delivered some place?
But even if I do know where they are what can I do? I cannot go bustin' around shootin' the place up an' raisin' hell and skittles without lettin' these French guys know about the poison gas formula, which is the thing I am not supposed to let people know.
There's no two ways about it these two dames Fernanda an' Georgette are right on top of the job. They are holdin' all the aces all right. They know durn well that if I go chasin' after 'em or raisin' any sorta trouble all they gotta do is to shoot the works about the formulas an' they know durn well that I know it.
I get to feelin' that if somebody would give me a tip what to do I would give 'em a diamond medal.
I stand myself another shot of rye an' try to give up thinkin'. I have nearly succeeded when the telephone goes. It is Cy Hinks.
"Hey, playboy," he says. "You wanted me to keep an eye on your pal Mrs. Georgette Istria, an' this is to tell you that we are doing same with our usual efficiency. An hour ago this dame leaves the Grande-Claremont an' takes a cab. She drives out to Neuilly.
"Well, I already had four guys operatin' around in Neuilly tryin' to get a line on some of that information you wanted about the Armine Lodge people. About half an hour before this dame arrives out there in the cab some guy drives up in a big Canadian Buick an' goes into the Lodge. He parks the car in front of the door. He opens the front door with a key he's got. My fella is standin' in the shrubbery an' says that he reckons there wasn't anybody at all in the place before this Buick guy arrives. You got that?
"Well, about thirty minutes afterwards Mrs. Istria pulls in inside a Paris taxicab. She pays the driver off outside the main gates of the Lodge an' my man who has chased out after her from the Grande-Claremont pulls his cab up an' gets out an' eases along to see if he can hear anythin'.
"He hears this dame havin' a few words in French with the driver because she has only got American money, but after a bit they get this business straightened out an' she goes in an' starts walkin' up the drive. When she gets three-quarters of the way along, my bozo slips through the gates an' goes after her.
"But it's no good. She gets to the front door an' rings the bell an' the door opens an' she goes in. There wasn't any light on inside the hall so he can't say who let her in or what happened.
"Presently the first guy an' the Istria dame come out an' get in the car. Then the Buick drives off around the carriage drive that runs away back of the house. An' that's all I can tell you right now. Maybe I'll have something else in the morning."
"You can skip it," I tell him. "I don't want any more information about this Armine Lodge dump because I reckon I know plenty now. Where are you talkin' from?"
He says he is talkin' from his own place, an' I tell him to hang up an' stick around for a bit an' maybe I will ring him back, because I got a faint an' funny sorta idea knockin' about at the back of my brain-box.
I light myself a cigarette an' lie down some more. I reckon that I've been one hundred per cent right in my last guesses. The guy who went out to the Armine Lodge was Tony Scalla an' he went out there to pick up Georgette. An' maybe that's the last thing I'm goin' to see of that baby.
An' I am plenty sorry for this. Because I would give a year's pay to stick that good-lookin' starry eyed, swell-figured hellcat of a so-an'-so behind some steel bars.
Because that little sweetheart has worked on me like a striptease baby does on the boy who has come down from the farm.
Only maybe the boy from the farm gets something outa the game.
It is nearly four o'clock in the mornin' an' I am still lyin' there ponderin'.
Because it looks to me that all there is left for me to do is to send an Embassy cable through to the Director at Headquarters an' tell him that I am all washed up, a total an' complete loss to one an' all, an' ask for instructions.
An' I reckon that his instructions will be that I am to stick around until this Fernanda-Georgette combination indicates just how much dough it wants to return the Jamieson-Grearson formulas, and whether it wants the dough paid in China or Siam.
I also realise that as these babies will want the dough paid over first we got no guarantee at all that they will hand over the formulas when they have got the jack which is another sweet proposition which don't please me any.
I reckon these babies will have one swell time on that jack too. All they gotta do once they've got it is to keep out of England an' the U.S. for a coupla years until the whole bezusus has blown over, after which they can run around an' do some really heavy spendin'. I reckon that Georgette an' Fernanda will have enough fur coats an' swell frocks to set up a coupla dozen stores.
Boy, what would I like to do to those two honey-belles! I swing my legs down to the floor an' give myself another cigarette. Usually my motto is "when in doubt don't," but I reckon that when it comes to cases like this I'm gonna change it to "when in doubt do."
I go over to the telephone an' ring Cy Hinks.
"Look, Cy," I tell him. "Maybe you know a lot of shady guys around this city. You know American boys who for some reasons best known to themselves don't ever consider goin' back to the States. I reckon you know all sorts of cusses like that, hey?"
"An' how," he says. "There are a few guys here who have beat murder raps by scramming out of the States quick an' one or two bank robbers an' a few phoney marriage guys an' bigamists, an' half a dozen sweet counterfeiters an' forgers an' a few million honest-to-goodness fellas who would just take the last pumpernickel out of a blind guy's dinner pail."
