Complete works of peter.., p.146
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 146
He raises his eyebrows.
"That means you know where Whitaker is," he says.
I shake my head.
"I don't know where he is right now," I tell him. "But I'm goin' to know."
"How're we going to get those plans?" he asks.
"We're goin' to buy 'em," I tell him. "I've got it all fixed. We're goin' to pay 'em a quarter of a million dollars for the complete plans.... " I grin at him.
He looks as if he had been hit with a poleaxe.
"Am I dreaming?" he says.
"Look, Herrick," I tell him. "You ain't dreamin'. This thing has just got to be played out my way an' you got to play ball. I got an idea that I wanta finish off this job without somebody gettin' their throat cut. So let's get down to cases."
"All right," he says. "Start from the beginning."
I get a bottle of whisky, a syphon and some cigarettes. Then I give him the work the whole bag of trick right from the start.
IV.
AT half past twelve I doll myself up in a very nice grey pin-head suit I have got, with a pale blue silk shirt an' navy tie an' I go visitin'.
I take a taxi an' roll around to Montana Kell's apartment. On the way round I am wonderin' whether I am goin' to find that baby there, or whether she has decided to take herself off some place. But I am layin' a slight shade of odds that she will be there because I have got a very definite idea as to how she is playin' her hand.
When I go into the dump I take a look at the indicator in the hall an' it says: "Miss Montana Kell IN." I go up in the lift an' ring the bell. After a minute some neat package in a very tight black dress that is kind to her curves an' a lace apron asks me what I want. I tell her that I wanta talk to Miss Kells. She says she is not certain as to whether Miss Kells is in but that she will go an' see.
I tell her not to worry. I give the door a push an' go in. I tell the dame in the apron to scram an' I walk across the hallway an' open the door on the far side.
Montana is in all right. I have bust right inta her bedroom. She is sittin' in front of a swell mirror, wearin' a bad tempered expression, a brassiГЁre, pink silk french pants an' biege silk stockin's.
This outfit, combined with the fact that she is sportin' a pair of black patent court shoes with four-inch heels, makes her look like the front page of La Vie Parisienne, in the good old days when France was France an' not pretendin' to be a hick station on the Berlin-Rome main line.
She screws around an' takes a look at me.
"Well.... I'll be goddamed," she says. "If it ain't Mister Caution." She puts on an expression of injured innocence. "Say, can't I get any privacy around here?" she says. "This is my bedroom an' I'm a very particular dame when it comes to guys takin' a gander at my nether limbs by daylight."
"Look, delicious," I tell her. "I have seen dames in pink silk pants before. In fact I would go so far as to say that if all the pink silk pants I have seen was added up they would stretch twice around the world an' still leave a pair over for you to keep in your handbag."
"Yeah," she says. "I've heard about you. Just another tough copper. It's always the same story. The dame always pays."
"Don't you believe it," I tell her. "At least, not when the dame is you."
I take off my overcoat an' put it, with my fedora, in the corner of the room. When I come back from doin' this Montana has inserted herself inta a crepe de chine lounging gown with a fur collar. Some of you guys may think this is modesty but don't get me wrong this dame could still manage to show all the leg she wants even if she was dressed in armour.
"Are you wantin' somethin', Lemmy?" she says sorta sweet. "Or maybe you only come around to say thank you for the big tip-off I handed out to you. Maybe you went down an' saw Whitaker an' got everything fixed. An' what about a little drink, you big hero?"
"You got something there," I say.
She goes off to a cupboard an' comes back with glasses, a bottle of Scotch an' a syphon. She mixes the drinks an' hands one across to me. Then she sits back in the corner of the settee an' relaxes.
"Is anything wrong, honey?" she says. "You look sorta worried."
I shrug my shoulders.
"Believe it or not, Montana," I tell her. "I am plenty worried. I made one helluva big slip up. Me.... I feel like the village idiot only worse."
She puts her nose in the glass an' smells the liquor. She says:
"What didya do, big boy... tell auntie? It ain't like you to slip."
"Well I slipped," I tell her. "Plenty. I went down to that Burghclere dump an' saw Whitaker. When I got down there he was waitin' for me trussed up like a chicken. But I thought it was a plant. I thought it was some guy they had put in to pretend to be Whitaker so I sorta messed up the situation."
She takes a drink.
"That wasn't like you," she says. "But maybe you didn't believe what I told you. Maybe you was tryin' to be too clever."
"Maybe," I say. "Anyhow that's how it was. So I scrammed outa there an' got myself inta a tough spot with Willie Kritsch at a dump called the Melander Club at Maidenhead. I got outa that all right but Carlette Francini got herself ironed out an' the cops have pinched some guy called Frisco on a murder charge."
"Life can be excitin', can't it?" she says sorta casual. "Did you see anything of the Geralda dame?"
"Yeah... " I tell her. "I brought her back with me. She's here in town, so that's something."
She nods. She comes over an' takes my glass an' fills it up again.
She says:
"So you're pretty well where you started. It's a bit disappointin'... after I tried to help you all I could."
"Yeah... " I tell her. "That was the trouble... you helpin'. Naturally I didn't believe anything you told me. I expected the whole goddam thing was a plant."
"Jeez... !" she says. "Can you beat that? I was tryin' to do every goddam thing I could to help you. Tryin' to give you a break. All I hoped was that you would pull these mugs in an' then I should feel nice an' safe. Didn't I tell you how I wanted to get away from Panzetti an'... "
"Hooey," I tell her. "If you wanted to make a break, why didn't you? What about that note I gave you to Herrick at Scotland Yard askin' him to get you outa the country? Well... you ain't even tried to go. You're still stickin' around here powderin' your nose an' waitin' for... what?"
"Well, I like that," she says. "There's gratitude for you. Never again will I do anything for a goddam copper so long as I live. I tried to help you because you know goddam well that I'm crazy about you. An' this is all the thanks I get.
"Another thing," she goes on, "I was goin' to get outa here. I was goin' today. I told the maid to get my things packed this afternoon an' then I was goin' down to Scotland Yard to see your pal Herrick an' arrange about gettin' back quick to the States before Panzetti.... "
"Bunk, Montana," I tell her. "You're talkin' hooey. I woulda paid some sweet dough to see you meanderin' down to Scotland Yard on them four-inch heels an' gettin' yourself chucked in the can."
"What the hell are you talkin' about?" she says. "Why should they wanta throw me in the can?"
"Because I called through to Herrick an' told him to chuck you in the can any time you called around with that note," I tell her.
"Whoever told you that you could pull somethin' over me musta been nuts," I go on. "You are the original brown snake. You are so goddam cunnin' that one of these days you are goin' to double-cross yourself by mistake. All you got is a swell pair of legs, a figure that waves in the breeze, a pair of come-on eyes an' a look-me-over-kid-I'm-hard-to-get look. To me you are the most unconscious dame that ever tried to wriggle a pair of thirtyfour hips inta a size thirty wrap around. You are so goddam obvious that it positively hurts.
"Anytime I fall for a dame like you I hope that somebody will take me outside an' cut my head off quick because I would rather be tied up to a coupla wild alligators than get myself hitched on to you. So now you know... you female whip-snake, an' if you don't like it you can go fry an egg."
"You lousy gumshoein' dick!" she hollers. "You right royal bastard. You heel. After I done what I've done for you an' told you. I was nutty about you even if I did know you got yourself a crick in the neck through lookin' around at every dame you ever met up with... . An' this is the deal I get from you. Me, I would rather die four hundred an' fifty times than get within a mile of you. If I had you stickin' around me I'd take poison."
"If I was stickin' around with you I'd give you poison," I tell her. "Only it probably wouldn't act. You drunk so much hard liquor in your life that your stomach is probably armour plated. If I had my way I'd give you a Mills bomb for breakfast... after I'd pulled the pin out."
"Jeez... " she hisses. "Listen to that! Me!... I don't reckon I have ever been so insulted by a goddam copper in my life."
She comes over to me an' stands there lookin' down at me.
She is almost black in the face with rage.
"You half-witted love-child," she says. "What the hell do you think you're talkin' about? You are the sorta low-down cuss that plays around with a delicate an' sensitive dame like me, gets her to give a lotta information about her pals an' then under pretence of protectin' her has her thrown in the can. An' to think that I was stuck on you... " she raises her eyes upwards.... "For chrissake," she says, "I was stuck on you. I coulda given you everything. There was nothin' I woulda kept back from you.... "
"Well, you ain't keepin' much back now," I tell her. "Because your dressin' gown is undone an' sittin' here is like bein' in the front row of the stalls at the strip tease festival."
I finish my drink.
"Take it easy, babe," I tell her. "I am wise to you. So let's start from the beginnin' an' try an' straighten things out."
"An' what the hell does that mean?" she howls. "What the... "
I get up. I pick her up an' carry her over to the settee. I drop her down on it an' I give her a good smack on the spot intended for same. She tries to give me a back-handed kick in the eye but it don't come off. I go back to my chair.
"Look, Desdemona," I tell her, "I am now goin' to give you some free advice an' if you got anything besides sponge cake in that head of yours you're goin' to listen."
She turns over an' sits up. She looks at me like a snake. Her eyes are gleamin' an' I reckon that if she coulda got her fingers on a rod she woulda fogged me as soon as look.
"All right," I go on. "First of all I would like to inform you that for a clever dame you can be so goddam silly that you would make a lunatic look like an outsize brain guy.... "
"Yeah... " she says. "You're talkin' plenty, but you ain't sayin' much. I reckon this is just another of them bluffs of yours. I know you. You're tryin' to swing one on me but it ain't gonna come off. You... "
"Can it, sister," I tell her. "I am tryin' to swing nothin'. An' when I've said my piece you're gonna admit that I know what I'm talkin' about."
"First of all," I tell her, "you are such a goddam liar that you would make Ananias look like the winner of the Veracity Stakes. When you was pullin' that act on me just before I went rushin' off to Burghclere you told me you wanted to get away from Panzetti; that you was frightened sick of that guy. An' the idea was that I was to wipe these boyos up an' get you back to America. Well, if you wanted to get away from Panzetti why go back to where he is? You knew goddam well that Panzetti had never left the States. You knew goddam well that that mug has been sittin' on his backside in Chicago; that he has never been near this country."
She opens her mouth to say something.
"Pipe down," I tell her, "an' don't make things worse than they are. All that stuff you told me about wantin' to get away from Panzetti was just so much apple sauce. What you wanted to do was to get back to that guy. So's you could go on workin' for him over there like you been workin' for him over here."
I light myself a cigarette an' take a look at her. She don't say anything. She is lying back on the settee, with her hand behind her head, lookin' at me sideways. I got the idea that she is thinkin' pretty hard too.
"Panzetti had Willie Kritsch an' some other guys planted over here," I go on. "They was planted here before Whitaker ever got near this place. Kritsch an' Frisco, Zokka an' probably one or two more. You was here too. Just to see that the mugs did their stuff an' didn't try any funny business. Am I right, baby?"
She throws me a big laugh.
"Go on," she says, puttin' on an act. "You interest me. I wouldn't stop you for worlds."
"Carlette Francini is left over there to find out what goes on after Whitaker has come over here," I say. "She finds out that I am gumshoein' around up in Kansas City tryin' to find this mug Whitaker. She also finds out that Whitaker has written a letter to Geralda Varney tellin' her that he is comin' over here. So she reckons that Geralda will come over an' she probably cables you to keep an eye open for her. She then sticks around an' tails me when I come over here. She fixes with Manders, the wireless officer on the Florida, who is workin' for the Germans, to pinch my papers so that Willie Kritsch can have 'em an' put an act on to Geralda that he is me.
"When I get here another of the boys is put in to stall me from goin' to Scotland Yard an' I am told a phoney story to get me up to that dump Laurel Lawn in Hampstead, the idea bein' that Geralda will also be sent along there an' that sap Fratti will come around an' blow the two of us an' the dump to hell.
"So it looks like Panzetti wants to get rid of me an' he wants to get rid of Geralda. As usual he is sittin' very nicely in the background, keepin' his nose clean an' with a cast-iron alibi. While all this is goin' on he is in Chicago an' so nobody can accuse him of anythin' that happens over here."
"You astound me," she says. "Ain't you the brainy guy!"
"I'm not so bad when I start tickin' over," I tell her. "Well... it don't come off. The Fratti business flops an' the next thing to do is to try somethin' else. But Kritsch thinks that he don't wanta have to iron me out. He don't wanta start any obvious killin' around here until he has got the big business settled. So I reckon that you an' him have a meetin' an' you decide that the thing to do is to play me for a sucker. You are to contact me an' tell me that you are sick of the whole business an' that you wanta get out. You are to tell me where Whitaker i the idea bein' that when I get there that poor mug has been told just what to say if he wantsta save his own life an Geralda's as well. But I make a sap outa myself. I don't believe it is Whitaker so I miss a chance of doin' somethin'."
"Yeah?" she says. "An' if mind you I said if all this was true, what was you supposed to do?"
"I was supposed to cash in with the dough that Panzetti wants," I tell her. "An' when it had been paid over I reckon that you baskets woulda stuck on to Whitaker. You woulda kept him an' made him do another set of prints all over again. You'da sold 'em to the Jerries. In other words youda sold the whole issue twice an' we shoulda been left lookin' like somethin' that the cat has brought in."
"Nuts," she says. "Are you expectin' me to fall for this stuff? D'you mean to tell me that you an' the Government an' all the cops over here woulda been prepared to pay plenty for plans that had been got off a guy who d been kidnapped? D'you expect me to believe that?"
I shrug my shoulders.
"What the hell is a quarter of a million dollars in a war like this?" I tell her. "Another thing is we can't afford to have anything happen to Whitaker. If Whitaker got bumped off one of the greatest air inventions is lost for ever. That's where Panzetti was clever. He knew we'd got to do business an' on his terms; an' this is one of the reasons that I've kept the cops here outa this. I knew that if they started cavortin' around, Kritsch would probably make Whitaker finish off the prints, cut his throat, scram back to U.S. an' sell the stuff to the Jerries. That's why I been playin' this thing on my own like I have."
She says: "Well, you heel... if that's all that's worryin' you... it can still be played that way, can't it? Except for one thing maybe."
"What thing?" I ask her.
"Francini," she says. "Didn't you say that she'd been creased. What're the cops here goin' to do about that? They ain't gonna let that go... are they?"
I grin at her.
"That is where I got to hand one to Willie Kritsch," I tell her. "I don't like that guy but I got to admit that he's got brains. He handed 'em Frisco on a plate for that killin'. He rung the police up an' told 'em it was Frisco. They picked the mug up an' he'll swing for it an' so that's that."
She nods her head.
"You brown-eyed hell-cat," I say. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you? You wouldn't know a thing. Willie Kritsch hasn't been through an' told you all about it, has he?"
I give her a big horse-laugh.
She says: "I don't know a goddam thing except what I wanta know. Believe it or not I'm stuck on you, Lemmy, an' all I wanta do is to help you."
"Honest?" I say.
"Honest," she says.
"Boloney," I tell her. "Anytime I want to get some help from you I'll go throw myself down a pit filled with crocodiles instead."
"All right," she says. "Well, if you feel like that, what the hell are you doin' round here? You ain't got anything on me. You got a lotta theories but I don't care for theories, an' you can't do much with 'em. What's the big idea?"
"Listen, gorgeous," I tell her. "Even if you are so crooked that you would make a corkscrew look like the shortest distance between two points, there are moments when you got your uses. This is one of 'em."
"Strange," she says. "So you're actually gonna use me. How thrillin'... " she wriggles around an' looks at me. "What have I gotta do now," she says. "An' I hope it's somethin' I wouldn't mind bein' photographed."
"Well... here it is," I tell her. "Me... I know when I got to do a deal. Let's start off fresh. Let's see if we can't put this business through so that everybody is happy an' nobody else creased. Carlette's dead... but then Carlette was just another mobster's dame without too much brains.
"All right.... Panzetti wants a quarter of a million dollars. An' I don't mind payin' that providin' I'm goin' to get a square deal. But I got to know that I'm goin' to get a square deal an' I gotta know that Whitaker is goin' to be released an' not hurt or croaked or anythin' like that. In other words I've got to have some sorta guarantee."
