Delphi collected works o.., p.139
Delphi Collected Works of Peter Cheyney Illustrated, page 139
He says he knows what I mean. He rings the bell on his desk an’ the cute baby from the outer office comes in an’ stands there with her notebook in her hand waitin’.
“Effie,” he says, “tell Nikolls to come here.”
She goes out.
“My own personal assistant — Windemere Nikolls — isn’t on anything in particular at the moment,” he says. “And as I would like to do anything I could for Herrick I’m going to turn him on to you. You’ll find he knows most of the answers, and his knowledge of London is considerable. He’s a Canadian.”
The door opens an’ a big bozo comes in. He has got a round face with twinklin’ eyes, an’ runs to a little bit of belly. He stands nice an’ square on his feet an’ looks as if he could be plenty useful in a rough house. He says:
“What’s doin’, Slim?”
Callaghan says: “This is Mr. Caution. He wants you to do a job for him. He’ll tell you what he wants.”
“O.K.,” says the Nikolls guy. He pulls out a packet of Lucky Strikes an’ throws one over to me. I ask him where he gets ’em.
“I gotta place,” he says. “Maybe I can put you on to it.” He looks at me an’ grins. “I know another place where they got the straightest bourbon that ever come outa Kentucky,” he goes on. “But maybe that wouldn’t interest you.”
“It would,” I tell him. “Maybe you can lead a search party around there an’ we can talk at the same time.”
He says that is O.K. by him. I grab my hat.
“This costs you seven guineas a day an’ expenses,” says Callaghan. “The office will send you an account when you’re through with Nikolls. You might give Miss Thompson your address.”
I say O.K. an’ so long, an’ we go outside an’ fix it with the red head. The Nikolls any outs on a fedora just over one eye, an’ we go out on this bourbon party.
By the time we got through one bottle I begin to like this Nikolls guy. The funny thing is that he usta work for the Trans-Atlantic Agency one time — which is a good recommendation for any guy.
I start leadin’ the conversation around to dames just to get this bovo’s reactions; but I needn’t have worried. Directly I say the word his eyes light up.
“I’m sorta interested in dames,” he says. “I reckon that every guy in the detective business oughta make a study of ’em. I’m writin’ a book about ’em. I gotta theory.” He gives a big sigh. “I started writin’ that book ten years ago in Toronto.” he says, “an’ I ain’t got it finished yet. Some baby has always stopped me finishin’ it.”
He looks at me an’ grins. I reckon this Nikolls has got a sense of humour all right. I am beginnin’ to think that maybe I can use this bozo for a little idea I got.
He goes on: “I got another theory about hip lines. I reckon you can always tell anythin’ you wanta know about a jane by her hip line.”
“Yes...” I tell him. “Especially if she is sittin’ on your knee.”
“I don’t mean that way,” he says. “I mean by just lookin’ at ’em. You take a dame with a thin hipline an’ hip joints that stick out. In nine cases outa ten this baby has got a discontented husband, no hope an’ an acid nature. Whereas the well an’ truly rounded dame has a bright an’ hopeful viewpoint an’ is never surprised at anythin’. The more streamlinin’ she has got the earlier her old man gets home from the office because he has already sensed that the guy across the road is interested in streamlinin’ too. Am I right or am I?”
“You are so right you’d be surprised,” I tell him. I order a couple more shots of rye. “Look Nikolls,” I go on, “here’s what I want you to do an’ I don’t want any slip-ups because this business is rather urgent. See?”
“I don’t go in for slip-ups,” he says. “We don’t recognise the word in Callaghan Investigations.”
“O.K.,” I tell him. “But you gotta be careful because the baby I am goin’ to put you on to is no sap. This dame has got so much brains that they’re practically stickin’ out of her ears.”
“What’s she like?” he says. “an’ what does she call herself? You can tell a lot by the name a dame has.”
“Maybe,” I tell him. “an’ you can tell a lot more by listenin’ to what her boy friend calls her when he’s steamed up over somethin’. O.K. Well, this one is called Tamara Phelps.”
“That’s a swell name,” he says. “Tamara Phelps.... I reckon a frail with a name like that has got sufficient to get around with.”
“Right once again, Nikolls,” I tell him. “She’s got plenty — an’ everythin’ properly distributed an’ under control. She’s a looker. She’s got them dreamy eyes that can change to steel blue any time she wants. She’s so graceful when she walks around that you just wanta watch her. She’s got a figure that would make a sculptor throw a lump of clay at his favourite model, an’ she’s cute.”
“She sounds a nice dame,” he says. “an’ what do I have to do to her?”
“I am not certain about this baby,” I tell him. “I think that maybe she’s tryin’ to play me along. Also I got an idea that I’m goin’ to hear from her pretty soon. I think she’s goin’ to call through to me at my apartment on Jermyn Street. O.K. Well, if she does I’m goin’ to get her to come around an’ see me. Maybe she will an’ maybe she won’t. If she does I’m gonna call you on the telephone an’ I want you to get along an’ tail her when she leaves my place. I want you to find out where she goes, what she does an’ anything else you can get. You got that?”
“I got it,” he says. “It sounds easy.”
“All you have not got to do is to let this dame know that I’m havin’ her tailed,” I go on. “I want to get her confidence an’ if she knows I’m havin’ her watched she is likely to take a run-out an’ bust the whole works.”
“O.K.,” he says. “I got it. She won’t know a thing. When I tail a dame she stays tailed.”
We have a couple more shots of rye an’ he tells me about some of the dames he has known around the world. This guy certainly seems to know his cornflakes an’ the only thing that surprises me is that he has had any time to do any detectin’. There have been so many janes in this guy’s life that I calculate he ain’t safe anywhere except in one small spot in Iceland.
After a few more drinks, I say so-long to this Nikolls guy. I got his telephone number so’s I can ring him when I want him, an’ I give him my number an’ address so’s he’ll know where to pick up Tamara if she shows up. I reckon he is the right guy for the job.
I go back to the Jermyn Street dump, take off my coat an’ waistcoat, light a cigarette an’ lay down on the bed an’ relax.
It is six o’clock when I wake up, an’ it looks like a very nice evenin’ an’ I hope it is goin’ to turn out that way too. I stick around, light a cigarette an’ help myself to just one little shot of bourbon just to get the old headpiece workin’.
Me... I am not dissatisfied with this case. I got an idea that in a minute somethin’ is goin’ to bust an’ we shall get started. I reckon that Tamara Phelos is scared an’ the next thing — after that baby decides to talk, that is if she does talk — is to throw a scare inta Maxie Schribner an’ see if we can get him to open up.
At the same time I cannot see why there should be such a hullabaloo about this Julia Wayles jane. Dames have disappeared before an’ the Federal Bureau don’t get excited about ’em. But maybe she’s somebody’s sister or somethin’ — somebody who matters.
There is a knock at the door an’ the service guy comes in. He gives me an envelope an’ scrams. I bust open the envelope an’ it is the reply to the telephone cable that Herrick sent to the Department in Washington. It says:
FROM DEPARTMENT OF DIRECTOR
FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION WASHINGTON D.C.
TO LEMUEL H. CAUTION CHIEF AGENT F.B.I. CODE NUMBER 165-43
CARE OF HERRICK C.I.D. SCOTLAND YARD LONDON.
REFERENCE YOUR INQUIRIES STOP JAKIE LARUE IS INDIANAPOLIS GUN-MAN AND SNATCH RACKETEER SERVING LEAVENWORTH SENTENCE FOR KIDNAP CONVICTION HIS MAIN ASSOCIATE IS RUDY ZIMMAN STILL AT LARGE STOP HE HAS NO VISITORS ZIMMAN SUSPECTED OF MAINTAINING AND RUNNING LARUE GANG PENDING ATTEMPT ESCAPE ON PART OF LARUE SEVERED ATTEMPTS ALREADY MADE STOP NEAREST ASSOCIATE OF RUDY ZIMMAN IS TAMARA PHELPS STOP PHELPS HAS SERVED FOUR TERMS FOR HARBOURING AND ASSISTING IN KIDNAP ATTEMPTS STOP PHELPS IS CONSIDERED DANGEROUS STOP IS UNDER OBSERVATION AT PRESENT TIME STOP GOOD LUCK STOP.
Well, well! So we are gettin’ a little bit warmer. I reckon this message gives me plenty food for thought an’ I am just doin’ a little bit of heavy concentratin’ when the telephone lines I go over an’ grab it off. It is Tamara.
“Hey, Tamara,” I tell her, “I’m glad to hear you talkin’. So you decided to come across.”
“Yeah.” she says. “I thought it over an’ what’s a girl to do anyway? I’m goin’ to blow the works, Lemmy, but you got to look after me.”
“Don’t you worry, kid,” I tell her. “Where are you right now?”
She says she is talkin’ from the subway call box in Piccadilly Circus.
“O.K.,” I tell her. “Well, you come across here right now an’ have a little drink an’ a cigarette, an’ talk to Uncle Caution like a good girl an’ maybe I’ll forget an’ forgive.”
“All right,” she says, “I’ll come over. an’ I hope a girl can be safe in your apartment.”
“Look, baby,” I tell her, “with a face an’ figure like you got the only place you would be safe would be in the ice-box. So hurry along.”
She says she’ll come right over. I hang up, wait a minute an’ then ring through to the Nikolls guy.
“Look, Nikolls,” I tell him, “that Tamara Phelps dame is on her way here right now. She’s just called me from a Piccadilly telephone booth. O.K. Well, she’ll be here talkin’ for a little while. Get over here an’ stick around in the doorway on the other side of the road. She won’t see you there. When she leaves here tail her an’ don’t leave her. Directly she stays put some place give me a call through an’ tell me all about it. You got that?”
He says O.K. he’s got it. He says he’ll get action right away.
I hang up an’ give myself another little drink. I got a feelin’ that this case is gonna start right now. You’ll see why in about two minutes if you stick around.
I have just sunk the liquor when there is a knock on the apartment door. I go across the hallway an’ open it an’ there she is.
I’m tellin’ you mugs that this baby is a sight for a guy who likes lookin’ at dames. She is wearin’ a sapphire blue linen coat an’ skirt that matches up with her eyes. She is wearin’ no stockin’s but her legs are tanned just the way a dame’s legs ought to be. She has got on little white kid court shoes picked out with blue, an’ she is carryin’ in her hand a soft white straw hat an’ a white kid handbag ornamented with blue leather.
“Tamara,” I tell her, “what have I been doin’ all your life? You look so good that you just couldn’t be wicked. Come in.”
She comes in an’ I shut the door behind her. She walks inta my sittin’-room an’ stands in front of the fireplace, lookin’ at herself in the mirror an’ arrangin’ a curl. Maybe she knows her figure looks good that way.
I push the big armchair forward for her, get a box of cigarettes. She sits down sorta languid. Lookin’ at her outa the corner of my eye I don’t think this baby is as scared as she makes out to be.
“What about a little tiny drink, honey?” I ask. “A shot of straight bourbon just to cement the fact that you an’ I are goin’ to be friends from now on.”
She says she don’t mind if she does. I get the bottle an’ pour out two little drinks. I watch her while she drinks it. The way she sinks that drink is just nobody’s business. It looks to me like she’s a dame who has met bourbon before. I light a cigarette an’ sit down in the other chair.
“Now, look, Tamara,” I tell her, “you tell me this: How is it between you an’ Maxie Schribner? Would you be his girl?”
“Don’t be silly,” she says. “I’d rather be tied up to an alligator. That punk makes me sick.”
“That’s O.K. by me,” I tell her. “Because he makes me sick too. All right, baby, shoot an’ let’s have the works.”
“Well,” she says, “maybe I’m goin’ to get myself in a spot tellin’ you all this. Maybe I’m a fool. But there’s something about you I go for, Lemmy, and I sort of trust you.”
“That is nice news,” I say. “You’re making me blush all over. But go on!”
“Well,” she says, “about this Julia Wayles, it’s a snatch all right. And Schribner’s in on it.”
I blow a good-lookin’ smoke ring an’ watch it as it sails across the room.
“So it is a snatch, hey?” I say. “Who fixed it?”
“I wouldn’t know,” she says. “All I know is it was arranged somewhere in New York Somebody — I wouldn’t know who — wants to snatch this Wayles dame, an’ they snatched her.”
“So that’s it, hey?” I say. “What was it done for — money? Has she got a lotta dough? I’ve never heard about any Julia Wayles who had a lotta money.”
“I wouldn’t know what she’s got,” she says. “But I reckon girls have been snatched for something else except money before now.”
I cock my eyebrows at her.
“Have they?” I ask her. “Well, I never knew a dame who was snatched just because she was good-lookin’ before. I have known dames snatched because somebody wanted to get a ransom for ’em; I have known dames snatched because somebody thought they knew somethin’ an’ wouldn’t come across; an’ I have known dames to be snatched because somebody thought they knew too much an’ wanted to shut their mouths up permanently. But I have never known a dame snatched for any other reason except one of those three.”
“Maybe you’re right,” she says, “but I wouldn’t know.”
“I get it,” I say. “So somebody in New York wants Julia Wayles snatched. That’s all right. Well, who snatches her?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “All I know is that she has been snatched, an’ that she’s over here in England.”
“Well, how did she get over here?” I ask. “I suppose she didn’t walk.”
“Right first time,” she says. “I can tell you definitely she didn’t walk. She was brought over here. She was brought over here on a boat. How they managed it I don’t know.”
“I see,” I tell her. “In a minute I shall really begin to know somethin’ about this. Well, how does Schribner come inta this business?”
“Schribner’s got something to do with it this end,” she says. “I believe Schribner knows where she is. I believe Schribner’s working in with the mob who snatched her, but I’m not certain.”
“I see,” I tell her. “This is one of them cases where nobody knows anythin’ about anybody else. Well, you tell me somethin’: What are you doin’ in on this job?”
“Well Lemmy,” she says, “you know how it is. Things haven’t been too good for the mobs in the States, not since Mr. Hoover turned the heat on an’ this war started. Everybody’s got too goddam patriotic to have time for gangsters. Why,” she says, “some of the tough eggs on Broadway are gettin’ themselves into the army just to have a bust at that guy Hitler.”
“I see,” I tell her. “So things was bad, hey?”
“That’s right,” she says. “I was sorta stickin’ around an’ not doin’ much. Well, one day I met a girl friend in Moxsie’s Bar. She asked me if I wanted a job — a nice job with some nice easy jack on the end of it and not too honest. When I asked her what it was she says there is some dame over in England; that this dame wants lookin’ after an’ that the guys who was lookin’ after her at the moment have got an idea in their heads that they’d like to have a dame around.”
“I get it,” I say. “A sorta nurse, hey? In case Julia Wayles was to be sick or somethin’?”
“I wouldn’t know that either,” she says. “Maybe these boyos over here want to have some valid reason for holdin’ her. Maybe they’d even suggest she was a mental case or something like that. Anyhow I don’t know because I never ask too many questions.”
“I see,” I say. “So you didn’t ask this dame too many questions. How did you get over here?”
“She fixed me up,” she says. “She gave me some jack, fixed my passage and told me to report here to Schribner. Well, I came over here an’ went down an’ connected with Schribner at the dump near Dorking. It was when that guy Rudy turned up that I began to smell a real life-sized rat.”
“Oh yeah?’ I tell her. “So Rudy got you thinkin’, did he? An’ what did Rudy make you think?”
“Well,” she says, “I take one look at him an’ I know who he is. He’s a guy called Rudy Zimman — a very tough hombre. This boyo used to blow around with a mob that went in for snatchin’ guys in the States. Directly I saw him I knew that Julia Wayles had been snatched.”
“O.K.,” I tell her. “So there it is. You believed somebody in New York has Julia Wayles snatched, stuck on a boat an’ sent over here. You believe that rat Schribner is waitin’ for her; you believe that Schribner has either got her stuck some place or knows where she is. O.K. Well, after this business has been done they feel they’ve gotta have a dame to look after her. So they look for a really tough dame — a dame as tough as Tamara Phelps. They give you some jack an’ send you over here, an’ you report to Maxie Schribner.
“The next thing is that Rudy Zimman turns up. So directly Rudy Zimman turns up you know it’s a snatch because he is a guy you know was in the snatch game. O.K. Where do we go from there? Where is this Wayles baby?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “Maybe Schribner’s not too keen on trustin’ anybody yet. But he’s got to talk to me some time, hasn’t he?”
“I get it,” I tell her. “He’s gotta talk to you some time, an’ when he talks to you, you’re goin’ to tell me, hey?”
“That’s right,” she says. She gives me a long sidelong smile. “You’re a clever guy, aren’t you, Lemmy?”
I give a little grin.
“Maybe I am an’ maybe I’m not,” I tell her. “But you tell me one thing: What are you gettin’ scared about? You was in on this thing when this dame, who put this proposition up to you in New York, fixed your passage an’ gave you some jack to come over here. You knew the game wasn’t on the level, didn’t you? O.K. Well, what’s happened since you’ve been over here to make you scared? Ain’t Schribner treated you right? What made you suddenly decide to talk to me?”
