Complete works of peter.., p.145
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 145
She lets her breath go.
"I see... " she says.
"All right," I go on. "Well, then the position is this. They've got three-quarters of the blue print which are no good to 'em, an' we've got one quarter which is no good to us. But now neither side can twist the other. We can't double-cross them because they are holdin' you an' Whitaker as hostages an' they can't double-cross us because we shall have the last quarter of the blue-prints and the rest of the plans are no good without that quarter.
"All right. Well, then we pay over the money. When we pay it over they return Whitaker an' you an' the blue-prints they've got, an' we give 'em the two hundred an' fifty thousand bucks an' let 'em go. An' if it works that way it'll be worth the money."
She nods her head.
"There's only one thing," she says. "Supposing they pretended to agree. How do we know when Elmer finishes off the blue-prints that they wouldn't photograph them or copy them before they were handed over to us?"
"That's easy," I tell her. "The bargain would start with you goin' down an' meetin' Elmer at some place agreed an' taking him away until he had done the completion of the prints which you would bring straight back to us without them ever seein' it."
"But would they agree to that?" she says. "They might say that when I returned to you with the print I might not go back to them."
"They needn't worry," I tell her. "They would still have Whitaker."
"Marvellous," she says. "The scheme is absolutely watertight. I think it's swell."
"All right," I tell her. "An' would you be prepared to go through with it?"
She smiles at me.
"Try me," she says.
"O.K., I will," I say. I put my arm around her an' give her one helluva kiss. Does that baby struggle? Does she try to get away? She does not. No, Sir. She just gives. Oh boy... !
After a bit she says: "I didn't mean that. And you ought not to have done it. Elmer wouldn't like it!"
I take a quick look at her. Her face is serious, but her eyes are laughin' like hell.
"Me... I do not get this Elmer business," I tell her. "I thought you was so stuck on that guy?"
"I told you I admired his brain," she says. "And after all I think you're entitled to a little encouragement. You are trying to save Elmer." She throws me another of them sideways looks. "Of course, when I'm married to him, I probably shan't kiss anyone else."
I don't say anything. I think "probably" is a helluva good word.
"I get up. I reckon we got to get a move on.
"Come on, Geralda," I tell her. "We've got a job to do. Get inta this coat an' lets scram."
I put her into the fur coat that I borrowed off the D.D.I.'s wife at Reading. While I am helpin' her on with it I get a breath of the perfume she is wearin'. Well... I have met some scents and some scents but this scent is definitely scent if you get me. It sorta knocks you sideways without bein' obvious.
We say goodnight to the cops an' scram. I start up the car an' we roll off towards the London road.
After we have been drivin' for half an hour I take a look in the drivin' mirror an' behind me I see a black police car pacin' us about fifty yards in our rear.
I grin. I reckon that Herrick has told the cops that he don't want to lose me again.
An' believe it or not I don't blame him.
II.
IT is six o'clock when we get back to London. It is as black as a nigger but the rain has stopped an' the all-clear syrens are goin'. Me... I am so goddam tired that I can hardly see. Geralda is smokin' cigarettes one after the other to stop herself goin' to sleep, an' the petrol tank is nearly empty. We just made it.
I drive down to Geralda's hotel in the Strand an' park that baby. I tell her to stick around until she hears from me an' not try any more funny business. She says she won't.
"I'm leaving this to you from now on, Lemmy," she says. "And I hope you're going to pull it off."
I tell her not to worry, that I shall be seein' her, an' that my advice to her is to go to bed an' get rested up because I reckon she is goin' to have some work to do pretty soon.
Then I drive around to my apartment in Jermyn Street an' take a shower. I dress an' make myself a cup of coffee an' do some thinkin'.
Me... I am not feelin' too bad about this business right now. I have got a whole lot of ideas about it an' even if only half of 'em are right maybe I'm goin' to get some place.
I take one little swig at the rye bottle just to keep the germs away, after which I ease downstairs, get in the car an' roll around to the garage near Montana's dump the place I got the car from. On the way there I am wonderin' what has happened to that chauffeur guy that I left under the table with the milk bottle. Maybe Montana took a look around there an' maybe she didn't. I hope she didn't.
I leave the car away down the block an' walk to the garage. The door downstairs is locked but I open it up with a skeleton key I got on my chain. I ease up the stairs an' go into the flat upstairs. Everything is as quiet as a morgue. I switch on the light an' go into the kitchen. I give a big sigh of relief because the chauffeur guy is still there.
He is asleep where I left him an' he has drunk all the milk. I reckon that mug must be pretty stiff by now.
I bend over him an' give him a good shake. He opens his eyes an' looks up at me. He calls me a very rude name.
I take out my pocket knife an' start cuttin' him loose. When I have done this I grab a chair an' sit down. I watch him while he rubs his wrists an' ankles an' tries to limber up.
"Well, pal... " I say. "An' how're you feelin'. Personally, I'm a bit surprised to find you here. I thought maybe Montana woulda taken a look around here an' cut you loose."
"You're a goddam liar," he says. "Why the hell should she come around here? She knew you'd got the car an' she told me to scram. She thought I had scrammed. One of these days I'm gonna even up with you, smart guy."
"Oh yeah?" I say. "Well, I reckon that you'll be a lot older than you are now before that time comes around. Me... I think you are a mug an' no ordinary mug either. Just a big double-gutted, goddam outsize in mugs who can't see when he's bein' used as a stooge an' to carry the baby when the time comes for the big boys to get out."
"What the hell do you mean by that?" he says.
I tip my chair back an' put my hands in my pockets. I look at him an' grin. He is sittin' there by the table on his haunches, lookin' like hell an' devils.
"I mean just what I say, punk," I tell him. "You are just a big bonehead. When your Ma had you she woulda done better to have got herself a cheap radio set. It looks better than you do an' if you don't like the programme you can always turn it off."
"You don't say, wise guy," he says, sorta soft.
He gathers his legs underneath him an' gives a leap at me. He shoots himself offa that floor at me like somebody fired him out of a cannon.
I go with him. I let the chair go backwards because I know that about ten inches behind me is the wall, an' I bring up my knee just as he contacts. It hits him in the belly an' knocks the wind outa him. He falls offa me sideways an' as he is goin' I clock him a sweet one on the jaw just to show him that there is no ill-feelin'.
I reckon that this guy is a mug all right. But this don't surprise me because I cannot see Montana havin' a mobster around her who was not a mug. I reckon that baby likes to be the only one in the vicinity with brains.
He lays where he has fell. He is breathin' in an' out like an old whale that has come up for air. I tilt the chair back, get up, an' go through the pockets of his livery coat. In the top right hand pocket I find a leather wallet. Inside it is an American passport, some English notes an' some American dollar notes.
I take a look at the passport. When I see the name on it I give a grin. The name is Guilio Paolo. So it looks to me that the boy is a first-generation wop an' I have got myself a lot of medals for handlin' punks like this.
I put my hand in his collar an' yank him up. Then I trundle him into the sittin' room an' throw him in an armchair. I sit down in the chair opposite him an' light myself a cigarette. I give him plenty of time to get his wind an' get settled down. Then I start in on him.
"Look, punk," I tell him. "The time has come when you an' me had better have a little straight talk, an' I ain't even particularly interested if you don't listen. If you do like to open them windmill-sails you call ears an' take in the pearls of wisdom that I am about to drop maybe you will do yourself a good turn. But if you wanta go to sleep you go. Why should I worry if in ten or fifteen years' time you are rottin' around in one of these prisons they got over here Portland or Maidstone or wherever it is they send the hard cases to because that is what is goin' to happen to you an' believe it or not they are very tough with cons over here. You can't buy a goddam thing an' you can't bribe anybody an' there is no parole boards an' just sweet nothin' at all. So now you know."
He puts on a big sneer.
"Tryin' to scare me, hey?" he says. "Well, you try some more, you lousy gumshoein' dick. You ain't got anythin' on me an' you can go jump in the lake so far as I am concerned. You make me sick."
"I'll make you plenty sick before I'm through with you," I tell him. "But you just relax for a minute, sourpuss, an' listen to me. I'm goin' to tell you a little story. I'm goin' to tell you why you're so goddam cocksure of yourself."
"You don't say?" he says. "All right go ahead. Maybe this is gonna be funny."
"Look," I tell him. "Any time when I find a crook as fresh as you are I always reckon that the mug thinks he has got somethin' up his sleeve. He thinks he has got an out. Like you think you got an out.
"Boneheads like you are always easy to make suckers out of," I go on. "Just like Panzetti an' Montana an' Willie Kritsch are goin' to make a sucker outa you."
He gives another sneer. But it ain't a good sneer. It looks to me like I have started to register on this guy.
"Oh yeah!" he says. "An' how are they gonna do that?"
"They're goin' to drop you over when the time comes," I tell him. "They're goin' to ditch you as sure as God made little green apples. An' why the hell should they do anythin' else?"
I lean forward an' put the fluence on him.
"Look, unconscious," I tell him. "I ain't a mind-reader but I'll bet you half a year's pay that I'm on to your end of this job. You are just a small-time mobster an' you was brought over here by Montana to act as chauffeur an' general stooge. They got you a passport. They been payin' you well. I reckon you liked the idea of comin' over an' makin' yourself a slice of dough.
"All right... well, you know what the game is. You know goddam well that these boyos are stickin' up the Government here for some big money for the Whitaker plans, an' you think they are goin' to get away with it. An' you think that when the deal's done you're goin' to get a nice piece of jack.
"An' you ain't even got to worry about a getaway. Because you know that is all arranged. You know just as well as they do that if the Government an' the cops here could pinch the lot of you after they'd bought the blue-prints offa you they would do it. But you ain't worryin' about that. Panzetti an' Montana an' Kritsch have got such a perfect getaway planned that you know everythin' is goin' to be just too perfect. So that's why you ain't worryin' about anything much.
"But you're makin' a very big mistake. An' you ain't the first guy to make it either. Another guy in this mob made the same error as you're makin'.... "
He starts gettin' interested. He says:
"What guy an' what error? I don't know what the hell you're talkin' about."
"You will," I tell him. "Listen, pal," I go on, "your name's Paolo. Well, there was another guy playin' around with this mob. His name was Paolo too. They usta call him Frisco. Maybe that guy is your brother, hey? You got the same sorta konk that looks as if it's been hit by a flatiron an' knocked upwards. Maybe that guy is a relation of yours.... "
He looks serious.
"Well, what about him?" he says. "Supposin' he is?"
I shrug my shoulders.
"Listen, sourpuss," I say. "I reckon you might as well order yourself a nice funeral casket because you're gonna need one before you're much older. Willie Kritsch has had Frisco knocked off. The cops have got him on a murder rap."
His eyes pop.
"Like hell... " he says. "You're bluffin'. You're workin' the old game.... "
"All right," I say. "If I'm bluffin' I'll take you along to see him. Maybe you'd like to feed him buns between the bars."
He says: "Why the hell should Kritsch want Frisco knocked off? What the hell is all this you are tryin' to pull on me?"
"I ain't pullin' a thing," I tell him. "I don't have to. You are the guy who has got to try an' pull something if you wanta keep all in one piece. Work it out for yourself.... "
I do some quick guessin'. I put two an' two together an' let him have it.
"You know how it was," I tell him. "It was all fixed that Frisco should stick around at the Melander Club at Maidenhead with Carlette Francini an' this Geralda Varney dame. O.K. Well, I put through a phoney call an' got Carlette outa the place. She came to meet me. She'd made up her mind to squeal because she reckoned it was the only thing she could do.
"Well, Frisco had gone out for a walk an' I suppose Carlette thought he would be around some bar or somewhere an' wouldn't be back. She made a mistake. Frisco saw her meet up with me an' he followed the car back on foot. When he arrives I am outa the way, talkin' to the Varney dame, an' Carlette tells him that I am in the lavatory. She's stallin' for time... see? Frisco smells a rat an' when she goes for her handbag where he knows she has got a rod he fogs her. Later on Willie shows up. Willie don't like this set-up a bit an' he reckons that he's goin' to give me the heat too. But he can't make it because the cops get through to the house askin' after me. So he decides to call it a day.
"So what does he do? He tells Frisco to get out an' drive up to London, an' when he has scrammed, Willie gets through to the Maidenhead Police an' reports the Carlette killin'. Not only does he do that but he tells 'em that Frisco pulled it an' he also tells where they can pick him up.
"A clever mug, hey? He knows goddam well that the cops are goin' to have somebody for that killin' so he gives 'em Frisco. He thinks that leaves him in the clear to complete this deal. See?"
He don't say a word. He just sits there lookin' straight in front of him. I can see that I have definitely registered on this guy.
"Well... what d'ya think they're goin' to do with you, you big half-wit?" I ask him. "They handed Frisco over to the cops an' Frisco is goin' to swing for creasin' Carlette you can take that from me. So how're they goin' to think about you? They'll know you'll find out about it some time. They'll know you won't be so pleased; that when you find your brother Frisco is goin' to be jumpin' around on the end of a rope maybe you'll get annoyed an' start something. Well... are they goin' to risk that? An' if they ain't, what are they goin' to do? They'll crease you like Carlette was creased. They won't take a chance on you. An' how d'ya like that?"
He says: "Jeez... that lousy Kritsch. What am I gonna do to him for that?"
"You ain't goin' to do a thing," I tell him. "The only way you're gonna play this business is the way I want it played. So you can make up your mind here an' now just what you're goin' to do."
"What's the choice?" he says.
"If you don't like my proposition," I tell him, "I'm gonna hand you over to the cops now an' have you thrown in the can. They got about nine hundred charges under the Defence of the Realm Act they can hold you under. An' I'm goin' to make it my business to see that you get a sweet sentence when the time comes. But if you like to play it my way maybe I'll give you a break. Maybe I'll fix it for you."
"How do I know you'll fix it? How do I know you won't walk out on me?"
"You don't know," I tell him. "You got to take a chance on that."
He gets up an' he walks over to the window. He pulls the blind on one side an' looks out. It is gettin' light now an' it as cold as hell.
He turns around.
"You wasn't stringin' me along about Frisco?" he says. "That stuff you gave me was the real works?"
"Yeah," I tell him. "But you don't haveta believe it. If you wanta come along to Cannon Row you'll find Frisco in a cell an' he can tell you himself. That guy will be swung off before three months have gone. They got a quick way with killers in this country."
He comes away from the window. He stands lookin' at me with his hands in his breeches pockets. There is a big bruise on his jaw where I clocked him.
He says: "I'm gonna take a chance on you. I'm gonna play this your way. An' you gotta give me a deal when the time comes.... "
"That's O.K.," I tell him. "But let me give you a tip. Don't try any double-crossin' acts. They won't get you no place."
He says: "I'm on the level. Me.... I was sorta fond of that mug Frisco. I'm gonna get even with that bastard Kritsch for turnin' him in."
"O.K.," I say. "I always thought that louse Willie would be too goddam clever one day. I think you're bein' a wise guy."
He says: "What d'ya want me to do?"
"You sit yourself down in that chair," I tell him, "an' smoke a cigarette an' open up them airplane-flaps you call ears."
He sits down. I give him a cigarette. I tell him what he's got to do.
III.
IT is eleven o'clock an' a nice, cold, sunny mornin' when Herrick arrives around at my apartment. I have had a hot shower, a four-finger shot of rye an' a big breakfast. Beyond the fact that I am good an' tired I am feelin' swell.
Herrick plants himself down in a chair beside the fire. He says:
"I got your telephone message an' came round right away." He gives me a rueful sorta grin. "The Assistant Commissioner says he would be glad to know something about what's been going on."
He pulls out a pipe an' starts fillin' it.
"You're just a cuss, Lemmy," he says. "You just have to do everything off your own bat, don't you?"
"Look, Herrick," I tell him. "It is not that way at all. Things just broke an' had to be played along. But I don't think we've got to worry. We're goin' to be O.K. We're goin' to get those Whitaker plans all right."
