Complete works of peter.., p.289
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 289
The club occupied a well-furnished ground floor and basement. It was comfortable, and whilst you were sober the liquor was good. When you were not, it became very bad. There was a subdued orchestra of four, who sat on a small raised gold platform at one end of the room, and whose expressions belied the hot music they produced. They disliked Galdina, the club, it patrons, and each other. They looked like four men to whom life was almost redundant.
Callaghan and the strawberry blonde sat at a table in the corner farthest away from the band.
Callaghan said: 'Do you know it's the first time I've ever seen a real strawberry blonde.'
Stephanie got as near to a simper as she could. She was dressed for a killing. She wore a rather severe black frock with a very good line that was perhaps just a little too tight. A real pearl necklace was her only ornament. She relied mainly on her face, figure and intelligence. She was right. Usually those assets were all she needed.
She said seriously: 'I didn't expect to be talking to you so soon. As a matter of fact I wasn't so pleased with you the last time I saw you, but I've been thinking...'
Callaghan said: 'You've been thinking that there was quite a lot of sense in what I suggested?'
She nodded. She said:
'It's not only that.'
Callaghan raised one eyebrow.
'No...? What else?'
She sighed. She picked up her glass of whisky and soda and looked at it. She said:
'I'm going to give you a big laugh. Well, if you want to laugh, the joke's on me. I suppose you think I'm pretty tough?'
Callaghan shrugged his shoulders.
'I haven't thought about it,' he said. 'But when I come to think about it, any woman who strings around with Nicky Starata has got to be tough.'
She nodded.
'I suppose that's right,' she said. 'Let's say that I used to be tough.'
Callaghan said: 'All right. You used to be tough.'
She went on: 'When I saw you last night I thought I didn't like you a bit. I thought you were trying to pull a fast one. But you put one or two ideas into my head. Since then I've done some quiet thinking on my own. I thought I'd like a talk with you; first of all because I think there's just an odd chance you might be right.'
Callaghan asked: 'What's the second reason?'
She said: 'Don't laugh, but... I'm crazy about you...'
Callaghan said: 'You don't say!' He signalled a tired-eyed waiter. He ordered two large whiskies and sodas He said: 'That calls for another drink. When a women like you tells a man like me she's crazy about him there just has to be another drink.' He grinned at her. 'Why are you crazy about me?' he asked.
She smiled. He realised suddenly that she was a very pretty woman. She said:
'I'll tell you. I've spent most of my life kicking around with pretty cheap people; I suppose Starata was an aristocrat compared to most of them. There's something about you I go for. You're tough, but underneath there's a streak of something I like. But that's not my main reason.'
Callaghan said: 'What's your main reason?'
She said: 'My main reason is that you wouldn't let anybody down. If you had a girl you'd look after her. She'd be safe enough.'
Callaghan asked: 'Is this an offer?'
She looked at him. Her eyes were very soft.
'Why not?' she asked.
He said: 'Let's shelve that part of the proposition for a minute.' He grinned at her. 'So you're wise to the fact that Nicky is leading you up the garden path?'
She said: 'I'm going to tell you something. I was never awfully stuck on Nicky. Oh, he's all right in his way. Let's say he's not my type. The thing is that I've got an idea that what you said about another woman is right, and I'm not the sort of girl who shares a man.'
Callaghan said: 'So you've decided to talk to me. You've decided to talk to me for two reasons—one that you think Nicky is giving you what is commonly called the run-around, and two because you're crazy about me. Is that it?'
She said: 'Yes.' She put her elbows on the table and leaned towards Callaghan. She said: 'When I said I was crazy about you that was only half the truth. I've never been so completely nutty about any man in my life. Has any woman ever told you that you've got something?'
'You don't say?' Callaghan looked thoughtful for a moment. 'So that's what they've been after... But let's come back to Nicky. What's the idea?'
'The idea is this,' she said. 'You're interested in Nicky, aren't you?'
Callaghan said: 'I'm interested in anybody who thinks they can push me around. I'm particularly interested in Nicky.'
She said: 'Well, why shouldn't you be? I think he's on the bad end of the stick.'
Callaghan said: 'I don't think about it—I know. I told you that.'
She nodded.
'He's made a mess of it this time,' said Callaghan. 'He's going to drop a whole hatful of money over that warehouse claim. He knows the Insurance Company won't pay. The best he can hope for is to lie low and take a chance that the police won't get their hooks on him.'
Callaghan drew his cigarette smoke down into his lungs. He was watching her. He was thinking that Stephanie might be very attractive if she wanted to be. He said:
'What's your real name, Stephanie?'
'My name's Rose,' she said. 'And my second name's Jones. I think it's a terrible combination, and I don't think I look like it.'
Callaghan nodded.
'You certainly don't,' he said. 'You look much more like Stephanie Duval.'
She said: 'I know that. That's why I picked that name.'
Callaghan said: 'So you're coming on to my side. You're going to work for me?'
'Why not?' she asked. 'Starata's washed up. I have to think of my future. I like to be on the side of the one that's going to pull it off.'
Callaghan said: 'Of course. Everybody likes to be on the side of the one who's going to pull it off. But when I saw you last you thought Starata was going to pull it off. What's made you change your opinion so suddenly. I suppose it was the idea of the other woman...?'
'That's right,' she said. 'It was the idea of the other woman. I'd never thought there was any one else, and when you'd gone I began to think about it. I remember what you said about Nicky sticking to a woman for two or three months... I began to think about little things he'd said. Suddenly I was certain that you were right. I realised that just because all this business had happened with that warehouse business going wrong, there was no reason for Nicky to want to get rid of me so suddenly.'
'Right,' said Callaghan. 'You'd think that with things beginning to go wrong, Nicky would need you about the place more than ever. As it was, he simply used the warehouse job as an excuse to ditch you.'
She said: 'And there was something else. You said that you knew who the woman was. You said that you'd tell me.'
'Did I?' asked Callaghan. He changed the subject quickly. 'There was no need for Nicky to get so frightened,' he said. 'That boy scares too quickly. If he'd had any sense he would have realised that once the Insurance people knew that they hadn't to pay that warehouse claim, they wouldn't give a damn about chasing him. They'd leave it to the police, and the police are pretty busy these days. He might have got away with it. He might easily get away with it now.'
She smiled at him.
'You're telling me,' she said. 'Are you trying to suggest that he'll get away with it with you on his tail?'
He shrugged.
'I've something else to do besides chase after Nicky,' he said. 'Naturally I was annoyed when he started to get rough. But I'm on a big case just now with lots of money hanging on to it, and provided he behaves himself and doesn't try to pull anything else he might still be all right.'
She said: 'Like hell... If I know anything of you, you'll never leave Nicky until you've got him where you want him. I shouldn't like to do what Nicky did to you. I'd be scared for the rest of my life.'
Callaghan drew on his cigarette.
'So he told you about it?' he asked.
She nodded.
'That's right,' she said. 'He told me about it.' She looked at him along her nose. She said: 'I wouldn't like to be Nicky. You'll get him all right. You'll pull it off.'
'So you said before,' said Callaghan. 'So I'm going to pull it off, am I?'
'Aren't you?' she asked. 'I've been hearing things about you. They tell me you always pull it off one way or another.'
Callaghan said: 'I don't do so badly—sometimes.'
She put her hand over his. It was soft and white. She had long artistic fingers. Her nails were well manicured.
She said: 'Look... I don't expect you to believe everything that I say. Why should you? But you will. You will when you know me a little bit better. When you know that all I want is to feel that you have a good opinion of me. You tell me what I can do for you and I'll show you that I mean business.'
Callaghan said: 'And how much does that cost?'
She said: 'Well, I suppose you're entitled to say that. Now you can be surprised when I say—nothing!'
Callaghan grinned. He said: 'I am surprised.'
'I've got a little money,' she went on, enough to get by on. I'm not out to make money, but I've made up my mind that I'm going to make you think well of me.'
Callaghan said: 'I think a lot of you now, Stephanie. After all, you're here. You're doing your best.'
She said: 'Let's get down to hard tacks. You want to know where Nicky Starata is. Well, I don't know. But I think I can find out in two or three days' time.'
Callaghan asked: 'He'll be getting in touch with you?'
She shook her head.
'No,' she said. 'Nicky's not one to take any chances. But he'll have to see me. If I know anything of Nicky, within a week he'll arrange that somehow or other he and I meet. But he'll do it so that even I don't know where he's hanging out.'
Callaghan said: 'Well, if you meet him it'll be useful.'
'I think, if I play Nicky the right way, I might even find out where he's staying, and if there's anything else you want to know I might find that out too—see?'
Callaghan said: 'I see. This is fine, Stephanie. I think you and I can help each other.' He blew a smoke ring, watched it sail up into the air. He went on: 'I haven't quite decided how I want to play Nicky yet. But I've two or three ideas. I shall know something definite within two or three days, so I'm going to suggest that you ring me up the day after to-morrow. I'll make an appointment. We'll meet. I'll tell you what you can do. How's that?'
She said: 'That's wonderful. I'm getting a kick out of this.'
Callaghan said: 'So am I.' He signalled a waiter, ordered more drinks.
III.
It was half-past twelve. Stephanie Duval and Callaghan stood in the hallway to the Green Canary Club. He said:
'I'd like to see you home, Steve, but if you don't mind I won't. I've a lot of work to do to-night.'
She said: 'Don't you worry. Anyway, do you think I'm fool enough to go back with you in the cab. If Nicky guessed I had anything to do with you he'd cut my throat.'
Callaghan nodded.
'That's what I was afraid of,' he said. 'I didn't like to put it that way.'
She said: 'I'm going now. I'll find a cab for myself. You follow in a few minutes. I'll ring you the day after to-morrow about seven o'clock in the evening. So long, Slim.'
She put her hand on his arm. She walked quickly out of the club. Callaghan watched her. He stood there leaning up against an ornamental pillar, smoking a cigarette. He waited for ten minutes. Then he got his hat, began to walk towards Berkeley Square.
IV.
Wilkie was leaning against his glass office, smoking. As Callaghan came through the black-out curtain, he said:
'Oh, Mr. Callaghan... there was a phone call for you about two minutes ago—one of your boys—Stevens. He said the address was 22 Chapel Street, Knightsbridge.'
Callaghan grinned. He said:
'Thanks, Wilkie.'
He went back through the doorway. He walked across the square, found a solitary cab crawling towards Piccadilly. He said to the driver:
'Chapel Street, Knightsbridge. Drive like the devil—chance the traffic lights. Stop this end of the street. Get there in three minutes and there's a pound for you.'
Inside the cab he lit a cigarette. He was feeling almost happy. He paid off the cab at the Knightsbridge end of Chapel Street.
He walked quickly down the street, stood in the darkened doorway next to the entrance of No. 22. Ten minutes went by; then Callaghan heard the door open. In the half darkness he could see a short figure of a man as he descended the two steps on to the pavement. Callaghan stepped up behind him. He said:
'Hallo, Leon.'
Leon spun round. Callaghan thought his face was thin and drawn like a ferret's. He said:
'It's nice seeing you.'
Leon began to grin. Callaghan brought up his right arm quickly. He hit Leon between the eyes. Leon's knees crumpled; he subsided on the pavement. Callaghan lit a cigarette. After a minute or two he stirred the recumbent figure with his foot. Leon moved. Callaghan reached down, yanked him to his feet.
He said: 'You and I are going to have a little talk. You're going to like it. Don't let me have any trouble with you. If you annoy me I'm going to hurt you. Understand?'
Leon said nothing. He turned his head away from Callaghan. He brought up his knee suddenly. Callaghan was waiting for that. He side-stepped expertly. He raised his arm and, using his fist almost like a sledge-hammer, he hit Leon on the side of the jaw. Leon went down again.
Callaghan stooped, picked him up, held him against the railings of the house next to No. 22. He held Leon with his left hand; with his right he began to slap him across the face hard. Leon tried another kick, but he was too slow. He was tiring. Callaghan hit him in the mouth. Then he recommenced the slapping process. After two or three minutes he stopped. He said:
'Well, are you going to talk?'
Leon said he was. His face was not an attractive sight. He mumbled:
'Let's get out of here. I'll talk when I've had a drink.'
Callaghan said: 'You'd be surprised!' He smacked Leon across the face again. He said: 'I don't want to say much to you and I don't want to hear much from you. I just want two things. You'll say 'em now, and like it! Understand?'
Leon said he understood.
VI. -- INVITATION TO SUPPER
I.
Manon sat at an antique oak desk in front of the sitting-room window at her cottage. She was looking out of the window, over the little lawn bounded by the white fence, towards the orchard. On the left of the orchard, the country sloped gently upwards towards the Valeston woods.
The evening sun casting its final rays through the window caressed her blonde tresses. She did not appreciate the fact. Manon was not good-tempered. Life, she thought, could be quite lousy.
She yawned. Half-way through the yawn she made an attempt to stifle it with slender white fingers. Her eyes, cool and demure, rested on Callaghan's letter, which lay on the oak writing-desk at which she sat.
She thought: This Callaghan is a damned nuisance. He's made up his mind he's going to get something out of this business, and if I know anything of men, he'll get it. He could be unpleasant, I think. She folded her hands underneath her chin, looked out of the window.
Manon, who was not at all stupid where the male sex was concerned, decided that really she rather liked Callaghan. She thought he might be very amusing. She liked him too because he had a strong personality. He knew exactly what he wanted—just how he was going to get it.
She wondered why she thought that she could like Callaghan... Possibly because he was inclined to be a little insolent and because he hadn't taken her very seriously. So many members of the male sex had taken Manon seriously that it was almost a nice change.
And he could be a nuisance. Manon thought that Callaghan would be very tenacious—if he wanted to be; that he would be very hard to shake off. She wondered if one ought to try and play Callaghan a little or whether it would be better to get rid of him somehow.
She read the letter again. It was obvious to her that it wouldn't be easy to get rid of Callaghan. She wondered if she'd been stupid in getting in touch with him originally. In any event, she thought, Desirée had not been fearfully wise in getting his back up, which was obviously what she had done.
She wondered if the Globe & Associated would, in any event, have employed Callaghan to investigate the claim, or whether he had arranged that he should be so employed. If he had, Manon thought she would like to know what the quid pro quo was, what advantage the Company expected to get out of his employment.
There could only be one advantage, and that would be that they would not have to pay. Yet here was Callaghan representing the Company, writing to her suggesting that someone ought to 'advise Desirée for her own good' in order to 'smooth out matters with the Insurance Company.' So it was possible to smooth out matters with the Insurance Company. There was no situation at the moment in which the Company had suggested it definitely would not pay.
Callaghan was cleverly suggesting—practically telling her—that he had created the situation with the Insurance Company, that it could be smoothed out, and in order that that process could obtain he, Callaghan, must be employed. She shrugged her shoulders.
She got up, walked over to the old-fashioned fireplace, stood in front of it, her hands behind her back, regarding the cool pleasant interior of The Cottage sitting-room; subconsciously admired the passing sunlight reflecting on the chintzes.
The solution was, she thought, to employ Callaghan. She took a cigarette from the silver box on the mantelpiece. Suddenly she smiled. There might of course be another angle on Callaghan's interest—herself. Why not? Manon knew she was very attractive. Directly she had seen the private detective she had realised that he was not an unattractive man, and that therefore he was an experienced man. Many women, thought Manon, would fell very easily for Callaghan, so it would not be ridiculous to think that Callaghan would expect other women to fall for him. Why not herself? Would that be Callaghan's idea?
