Complete works of peter.., p.190
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 190
He says: "Well, I'll be sugared! Look, Caution, don't be a bigger mug than you are. You gotta have those papers, haven't you?"
"You bet," I say. "An' somehow I'm gonna get 'em. But if you think I'm gonna be heisted by a cheap thug like you, you made a mistake. Get your hat, sweetheart, we're movin."
He says: "O.K. I think you're a mug, but you have it your way."
He drinks the whisky, puts the glass down on the sideboard. Then he goes for his coat pocket. He has got the gun out an' is nearly set for a shot when I let him have it.
The Luger makes a noise like a cannon.
He flops back against the sideboard. He's got his left hand pressed to his stomach. He don't look so good. He stays there for a coupla seconds. His face is twisted. Then he tries to bring the hand with the gun in it up again. It looks as if he's plenty annoyed. So would you be if you were shot in the guts!
I say: "Take it easy, Schrinkler. You're all washed up. You're finished."
He says: "To hell "
He crumples up. His knees sag. The gun drops outa his hand. He flops on to the carpet. I stand there in front of the fire waitin'. I stick around for two-three minutes. I can't hear a thing. Maybe there was nobody else in the place but him an' me. I stand there lookin' at him.
Maybe this is funny. Maybe the mug thought I was gonna fall for that tall story of his. Maybe he thought I was gonna let him get away with that passport an' certified cheque an' take his word that Gayda was comin' back some time with the papers. I reckon the late Mister Schrinkler was an optimist.
I light myself another cigarette. Then I go over this joint out inta the hallway, up the stairs. There's nobody there. It is just a nice week-end sorta dump nice an' restful for the nerves. I reckon Schrinkler never thought that he was gonna get his at this address.
I come downstairs again. There is a telephone in the hallway. I put the gun in my pocket an' get through to Carl Pardoe. When I have finished with him I go back to the livin'-room. I take a look at Schrinkler. Believe it or not, that guy is much better lookin' dead than he ever was alive.
I pour myself out a stiff one; then I sit in the big armchair an' drink it. I reckon that life is fulla surprises.
It looks like Schrinkler has found that out too. But maybe by now he knows all about a lotta things.
After a bit I go to sleep.
II.
I WAKE up with a helluva start. Somebody is bangin' on the front door like hell. After a bit they stop bangin' an' give the bell a jingle. I reckon it's Carl an' he's been standin' there gettin' impatient or maybe wonderin' if some more of these tough eggs have got at me an' I'm all in one piece.
I cross over to the doorway. Schrinkler is still lyin' on the rug nice an' peaceful. I feel a lot happier about this guy since he's been dead.
I go outa the room, across the hallway an' open the door. An' am I surprised or am I? Standin' on the porch is Pearl. She is wearin' a fur coat an' looks like all the flowers in May. A nice-lookin' dame Pearl, but maybe I told you guys that before.
"Well... well," I say. "If this isn't a pleasant surprise. An' what can I do for you, Pearl? An' what are you doin' around here at this time of night? An' I thought I told you to stick around at your flat in London until I contacted you? What's been goin' on?"
"Nothing's been going on," she says. Her voice, which is usually nice an' low an' sorta husky, is as acid as hell. "But I don't know why you should think that I've got to do what you tell me."
"O.K.," I tell her. "So you don't want to do what I tell you. All right. Well, what're you doin' around here anyway? An' why did you come down here?"
She says: "After I left you I went to my flat. I telephoned through to Mallows. Mr. Vaughan had called through and the butler told him about Gayda. He's almost out of his wits."
"Well, what does he think he's goin' to do?" I ask her. "Bein' out of his wits won't help him or Gayda."
She stands there in the hallway lookin' at me like I was a nasty piece of cold boiled pork. She says:
"My God, you're tough, aren't you? Nothing means anything to you. You can't even understand it when Vaughan gets excited when his daughter's kidnapped. You're so bound up in your own ideas and schemes that you don't give a hoot what happens to any one else."
I grin at her. "Let's skip that, baby," I tell her. "Beefin' off at me won't help either. How did you know I was down here?"
"I went back to the Regency," she says. "The night porter gave me the address you'd left with him. I made up my mind to go back to Mallows at once and I thought I'd call in here on the way and see if there was anything you could or would do. That is if you're not too busy."
Her voice is good an' sarcastic.
"Another thing," she goes on. "Do I have to stand in this hallway? Isn't there somewhere I can sit down? I'm tired and cold and I'm worried sick about Gayda."
"I'd ask you to come inta the sittin'-room," I tell her, "but I got a corpse there. Still, if you stick around for a minute I'll get everything fixed an' then you can come in."
I leave her there in the hallway. I go back into the livin'-room, grab one of the loose rugs on the other side of the room an' put it over Schrinkler. Then I tell her to come in.
She stands in the doorway lookin' at the heap on the floor. She says: "What's that... who is it? Did you...?"
"Yeah," I tell her. "It is an' I did. That was Mister Schrinkler that was. A nice guy but he didn't know what was good for him."
She nods her head. She don't look so good. I go over to the sideboard an' pour out some whisky an' a splash of soda. I give it to her. She sits down in the big chair. She says:
"Will you give me a cigarette, Lemmy?"
I give her one. She don't say anything for a bit. She just sits there, smokin'. Then she says: "What happened?"
"Schrinkler called through to the Regency after you'd gone," I tell her. "He'd got a big idea. He tried to pull one on me. The one I thought he was gonna pull."
She says: "About Gayda?"
"Right," I tell her. "He'd got Gayda. At least Canazzi that side-kicker of his has got her. The idea was that if I came out here an' brought an Embassy passport an' a certified cheque for twenty-five grand, the big boy on the floor here was gonna skip back to the States, cash the cheque an' when he knew he was O.K. he was gonna cable 'em to let Gayda go free. He was gonna give me the stuff I wanted the Mechanisation plans that Travis brought over an' hold Gayda as a sorta hostage until he knew he was O.K."
She gives me a cold sorta look. She says: "Naturally, you didn't like that?"
"I didn't like it a bit," I tell her. "Any time I come down to doin' a deal with a guy like Schrinkler I hope somebody pushes me under a truck. But I didn't tell him that. I told him it was O.K. Anyway, I reckoned that there'd be a catch in it somewhere."
I take my glass over to the sideboard an' give myself another shot of Schrinkler's whisky. I haveta step over him to get it.
"When I got out here he pulled a fast one on me," I go on. "Or he tried to. The idea was then that he wasn't gonna give me the papers. They was gonna stick to them. All he wanted was the passport an' the cheque. He was goin' to clear out, an' when everything was O.K. he was goin' to cable for Gayda to be set free an' they was goin' to give her the papers to bring back. Well... I didn't like that either. I reckoned anyway that I'd had enough of this guy Schrinkler so I told him I was gonna take him in. Well, he didn't like it, see? He went for a gun so I let him have it an' there he is."
Pearl says in a quiet voice: "Yes, there he is, and what about Gayda?"
"I know," I tell her. "That is not quite so good, is it?"
She says: "My God... you can say it isn't quite so good. What's going to happen to that girl. They'll probably kill her. When this man Schrinkler doesn't show up, they'll know the game's up. They'll kill Gayda!"
"Why don't you take it easy?" I tell her. "Why do they have to kill Gayda? They can still do a deal. They've got the papers, haven't they?"
"Supposing they haven't," she says. "Supposing Schrinkler had them. Supposing he'd kept them...."
"Not a chance," I tell her. "Schrinkler wouldn't be such a mug as to have those papers when I was around. You can bet your life that Canazzi has got those plans an' while he's got 'em he'll think he's safe. An' while he thinks he's safe Gayda'll be all right "
"Until you start something else," she says. "Until you try another of your bright ideas." She looks at me as if I was a hamburger left over from last Friday. "There are moments when I detest you," she says.
"That's O.K. by me," I tell her. "I think you look swell when you're all steamed up like you are now. But then beautiful dames always look more beautiful when they're bad-tempered."
She looks at me along her eyelids. If looks could kill I reckon I would be stiffer than Schrinkler.
She says: "You're appalling. With Gayda in a situation that may mean death for her you can stand around and try to be smart. Either you haven't got any heart or you haven't got any brains."
"Maybe I got neither," I say. "Maybe I'm entirely filleted like a jellyfish. But that's as maybe, honeypot, an' it don't do for everybody to start bawlin' around the place an' goin' haywire any time somethin' serious happens. Me I am a guy who likes to be nice an' cool an' stay that way."
She shrugs her shoulders.
Somebody starts ringin' the doorbell. Every time that goddam bell starts janglin' it gives me the willies. Maybe I'm gettin' a little nervy in my old age. I take a look at Pearl. She is lookin' into the fire an' there are a coupla big tears runnin' down her cheeks. A sweet baby, that one. An' the way she looks now I could eat her.
I go out inta the hallway an' open the door. Carl Pardoe an' Benzey are standin' on the porch. I tell 'em to come in.
Carl says: "Did anything break around here, Lemmy?"
"Plenty," I tell him. "I got Pearl Mallory inside an' a stiff under the carpet."
"Nice goin'," says Carl. "Would the stiff be Schrinkler?"
"Yeah," I say. "He got fresh so I hadta iron him out."
Benzey says: "Ain't he cute? He irons 'em out an' then puts 'em under the carpet. I suppose that's to preserve 'em."
We go inta the livin'-room. I introduce Carl to Pearl. Then I say:
"Look, Pearl, you aren't doin' any good around here, an' you're all washed up. You're tired an' you're worryin' yourself sick. You get outa here. Benzey's goin' to drive you back to Mallows. You better get back there an' wait for Vaughan to get back. He'll need somebody to keep him from doin' somethin' silly. You go back an' wait till he arrives; tell him to take it easy. Everything's gonna work out all right."
She gets up. "You're too comforting," she says. "I've never heard any one talk so much and do so little to help as you. Good-night, Mr. Pardoe."
She goes out. Benzey goes after her. He throws me an old-fashioned look over his shoulder.
Carl says: "D'you know what? I'll tell you something. My instinct an' my years of training as a detective tell me that that dame is not awfully fond of you right now."
"You're dead right," I tell him. "She hates my guts. She's worried about Gayda. Well... why shouldn't she...?"
Carl goes over an' lifts up the rug. He takes a look at Schrinkler an' then puts the rug back.
"The guy is definitely dead," he says. "So dead he don't even know it. Is that good or is it?"
I shrug my shoulders.
He says: "I reckon you aren't so pleased you had to crease him, are you, Lemmy?"
"What the hell!" I say. "He asked for it an' it was him or me."
"What about the papers?" he says. "I suppose the guy wouldn't have 'em cached around this dump some place?"
"No soap," I tell him. "He was tryin' another fast one. Canazzi's got the Mechanisation papers an' the girl."
Carl yawns. He says: "It's fun bein' a detective. Nothin' ever happens. At least not the way you want it. I can see a whole bundle of trouble for you. You got a corpse an' no Mechanisation papers. An' old man Vaughan is gonna tear your entrails out if this Canazzi guy don't return the girl right side up an' in good order. An' you ain't worryin'. That tells me something."
"Such as?" I ask him.
"Such as you got something up your sleeve," he says. "I know you. You're a cuss for nice little schemes that are so goddam woozy that every time somebody thinks they're gonna miss they come off. But I reckon you're overplayin' it this time. I reckon that Mister Caution has caught himself out."
He goes over to the sideboard an' pours himself a slug of Schrinkler's whisky. He drinks it very slowly an' then has another one.
He says: "Where do we go from here or don't we?"
"Not for a bit," I say. "I reckon we gotta give Canazzi a little time to think, hey?"
Carl says: "Yeah. But definitely. Canazzi is stickin' around thinkin' that Schrinkler has maybe pulled this fast one on you. So he sticks around. He expects to hear something from Schrinkler. Because it is a bad egg to a barrel of diamonds that Schrinkler has fixed to call him on the phone when everything's O.K. When this don't happen Canazzi is gonna do one of two things."
"Such as what?" I ask him.
"Such as (a) he is comin' around here to see what's gone wrong with this bezuzus, or (b) he's gonna get himself a sharp knife an' cut little Gayda's throat."
I say: "Listen, for crissake don't talk like that. I'm a sensitive guy. Look, Carl, would it be goddam awful or would it if that guy wasta cut Gayda's throat?"
He says: "Yeah... it would be too bad for her. An' for a guy who's supposed to be stuck on that dame you're takin' it very nice an' easy. That bein' so I reckon you got it figured out that Canazzi is not going to carve that dame. You got it figured out that he's comin' around here."
"Nope," I tell him. "I have not got anything figured out. I have got sorta beyond figurin' anythin' out. But I reckon there's just a chance that this Canazzi guy is gonna show up here to find out what the hell has happened to Schrinkler."
"That suits me," says Carl. "An' when he comes what do we do with him? Do we fog him an' put him under the carpet with Schrinkler or do we persuade the boy to talk about where Gayda is?"
"We'll wait till the mug gets here," I say. "In the meantime I'm goin' to have a little sleep. You stick around an' keep your eyes skinned for any trouble that's blowin'."
He says: "O.K. What time would you like your early morning' tea?"
"You call me in an hour, Carl," I say. "Unless anything breaks."
I flop down in the big chair an' doze off. I am sleepin' good an' hard when something wakes me. I sit up with a jerk. The room is in darkness an' I can hear a sorta gaspin' noise. Outside in the hallway the telephone-bell is janglin' like hell an' devils."
I slide over to the door good an' quick an' snap on the light. The gaspin' noise is comin' from Carl, who is sittin' in the other chair snorin' his head off. Some watchdog this guy!
I ease out inta the hallway an' grab the telephone. It is Benzey. He says: "Say, listen, I been ringin' you for ten minutes. I thought maybe you was dead or something."
"No," I say, "I'm still in one piece. What's breakin'?"
"You'd be surprised," he says. "Life is very amusin' around here. Just a little while ago Gayda blew in. Yeah... believe it or not she make a break an' got away with it. She ditched Canazzi an' got back here. She walked about four-five miles through the rain. You oughts have seen that poor kid."
"Nice work," I tell him. "I'll be over as soon as I can make it."
"That ain't all," he says. "Is this Gayda good or is she! She "
"Never mind about that," I tell him. "What's happened to Canazzi. Where did she leave him?"
"On the floor," he says. "She shot him with his own gun. You say what you like but I think that Gayda is cute."
"O.K.," I tell him. "Hold everything till I get there."
I hang up. I go back to the livin'-room an' give Carl a helluva dig. He wakes up. He says: "So what?"
"Gayda's back," I tell him with a big grin. "She shot Canazzi an' made a break. What did I tell you? I knew that dame would come out on top."
He gets up an' stretches. He says: "I can't make it out the way you get dames to do your work for you. How do you do it?"
"One of these days I'll tell you," I say. "Don't tell anybody but, believe it or not, I got a system!"
XII. SWEET DAME
I.
THERE is a nasty cold drizzlin' rain. It is as dark as hell an' about as cheerful. When we turn inta the carriage-drive at Mallows I get to thinkin' about the first time I came to this dump the night I met Travis. There was a night for you! A swell moonlight night with love an' kisses an' what-have-you-got flyin' all over the place. Not like this night. No, sir!
Carl says: "I reckon you are not so pleased. I reckon this is not one of your big moments. Also I should not be at all surprised if the big boy does not want to tear your ears off when you weigh in with the report on this job."
I ask him why.
"Well," he says, "you got one guy pinched Kraul. What does he matter? This Kraul guy is chicken-feed small-time stuff. The guy is just a sorta amateur killer an' he don't know a goddam thing. He is a guy who stooged around for Clemensky. O.K. You got him. An' what else have you got? Just sweet nothin' at all. Travis is dead an' so he can't talk, an' Clemensky is dead an' he can't talk, an' now the only guy who coulda told you where those papers are is also no longer with us. Canazzi gettin' himself fogged has done you no good at all."
"You don't know, Carl," I tell him. "Maybe Gayda's got the papers."
"Like hell," says Carl. "I reckon they been kiddin' you along, these guys. I reckon Schrinkler was kiddin' you along. I reckon that even if you hadda handed that heel a passport an' the dough, an' even if he had got himself back to U.S., he wouldn't have handed the papers over to the dame. I reckon the stuff he gave you was all hooey. Directly he'd got away this Canazzi guy woulda slit Gayda's throat an' taken a powder with the papers."
"Yeah?" I say. "An' where would he have taken a powder to? Where does the guy go?"
"He woulda got away some place," says Carl. "These boys was organised. They got it on you this time, Lemmy."
