Delphi collected works o.., p.720
Delphi Collected Works of Peter Cheyney Illustrated, page 720
The lieutenant found the badge. Caution dropped his hands. Franchini began to be sick in the corner.
“You’re a mug, Franchini,” said the G. man. “You oughta know that that dame of yours was always stuck on Lloyd Schrim. We reckoned that if we planted a fake story about some guy called Fremer bustin’ out of the big house an’ taking it on the lam to New York, and splashed his picture on the front page, she would fall for the set-up.
“How the hell do you expect a woman to be in love with a guy and have two killers bottled up in a room and not squeal when she’s just been told that her boy friend was dyin’ of T.B. through workin’ in the jute mill; that they was ridin’ him for not talkin’ over a job that she knew durn well that he never pulled?
“She reckoned that the ten grand she’d get for turnin’ us in would fix an escape for him. I thought she would, an’ took a chance on it. Take him away, boys.”
* * * * *
The G. man limped down the steps at Moksie’s. He walked over to the bar and ordered rye. Moksie pushed the bottle over the bar.
The G. man picked it up and walked over to the corner table where the woman was slumped. Her head was between her arms. She was crying.
He sat down opposite her and put the bottle on the table. He put his hand under her chin and pushed her head up. She fell back in the chair.
“Cut it out, sister,” he said. “It can be tough. I suppose they told you that there wasn’t goin’ to be no reward, huh? That it was a frame-up? Well, that’s the way it goes. Have a drink an’ stop the waterworks. It annoys the customers.’”
She took a drink from the bottle.
“You’re funny, ain’t you, copper?” she said. “It’s a big laugh, ain’t it? You pull a fast one on me, an’ I shoot my mouth an’ wise you up to where Franchini is hidin’ out, an’ you get him fried and I’m left on the heap.”
* * * * *
The G. man grinned.
“Listen, sweetheart,” he said. “This act wasn’t so easy to put on. I ain’t had any food for two days an’ I walked on this broken shoe so as to give myself an’ honest to goodness blister.
“Another thing, it ain’t so bad as it looks. You see, I handled that Polecat Inn shootin’ a long time ago. I never believed that your boy friend pulled it. As a matter of fact, Franchini did it, an’ Lloyd took the rap for him an’ wouldn’t talk. When Franchini bumped that last mug an’ scrammed, an’ we couldn’t find where he was, I thought this little act up an’ it worked.
“Have another drink an’ then let’s go an’ eat. There’s a guy waitin’ for you down at Centre Street by the name of Lloyd Schrim. I had him sprung this mornin’. He reckons he wants to marry you or something like that.
“An’ there ain’t no need to ask a lotta questions. He never worked in no jute mill, an’ he ain’t got T.B.
“Say, do you know what’s good for a blister?”
THE END
WISDOM OF THE SERPENT (1938)
AT THE END of the seventeenth century there dwelt in Ningting — within an arrow’s flight of the spot where the Great Wall sweeps up towards Lingchow — one Chung, a sardonic and very fat bandit chief who called himself Lord of the Hills and Bringer of Swift and Sudden Death, whose spears ravaged the countryside.
He was of the weight of 30 stone and the expanse of his stomach awed all beholders. His rat-tailed moustachios dressed with olive oil and the perfume of musk trailed down to the ground.
This Chung desired, above all things, to be the most ferocious — and richest — bandit in all China.
He desired also to capture and to put to death his hated rival Tok-Hi, whose spears swept the country on the other side of the Valley of Stones, and whose son Ling-Tok, a deadly archer, took pleasure in shooting arrows through Chung’s outpost sentries.
On a summer’s evening, gasping a little from heat and because of a large meal of hot spiced dog’s fat and sweet herbs, Chung sat beneath a silk canopy. Towards him, came his daughter, Twinkling Emerald, whose beauty made men catch their breath.
“Oh lord of the stars, esteemed parent of this most grateful child, hear the prayer of your entirely unworthy daughter,” she said.
“Speak on, my daughter,” replied Chung, wheezing a little, “remembering always that the moderate demand of the obedient child is as the burble of fresh, flowing water to the thirsty parent.”
The eyes of Twinkling Emerald were cast down upon the ground.
“Celestial parent,” she murmured, “let my presumption be forgiven by my angelic father. But my heart is of lead. Each day I sigh for love and each night weep because I desire to be the wife of Ling-Tok, the son of Tok-Hi.”
The wrath of Chung rumbled within him like a volcano.
“May yellow dogs defile the tombs of my ancestors,” he wheezed. “May the sacred grave of my great-grandfather become the receptacle for bad fruit! Am I struck with the palsy or is this truly the voice of my daughter which I hear speaking words so bitter that my ears are turned sour?
“How does the hitherto obedient daughter dare to present such a petition to the formerly-too-yielding parent? What devil gives her courage to speak such words?”
“Oh, my father,” said Twinkling Emerald. “Hear me. But yester eve I walked beyond the lily garden into the Valley of Pools. There in a hut lives a great sorcerer who hath but lately come hither. This seer, called Tsao, has a message from the spirits which says that you shall give a chain of rubies and that I shall be the wife of Ling-Tok whom I love.”
Chung rose with difficulty.
“Go in peace, my daughter,’’ he said. “Put out these evil thoughts from your mind. I will talk to this sorceror — this Tsao.”
* * * * *
CHUNG stood outside the hut of Tsao, the sorcerer, with eight spearmen.
Against the far wall, in the half-darkness sat Tsao, whose bent form was covered with a dirty yellow robe, and whose eyes shone through great, black-glassed spectacles.
“Accursed relative of badly-disposed rock snakes,” said Chung, “before consigning you to the hands of my well-trained torturers tell me what madness came upon you that you should advise my daughter, Twinkling Emerald, that I shall give you a chain of rubies and that she shall be the bride of Ling-Tok.”
Tsao’s voice was thin and old.
“Lord of the Earth,” he piped. “Everything is not what that thing seems. Do I not know that your supremely beautiful daughter has, each evening, met and talked to Ling-Tok in the Valley of Stones?
“Therefore I sent her to you, knowing that you would come to me, and so that I could suggest to you that tomorrow when she goes to meet Ling-Tok, in the evening, six of your spearmen shall follow her and seize him, so that you may hold him for a great ransom.”
Now Chung laughed so loudly that his stomach trembled.
“By the tomb of my great-uncle,” he said. “This is good talk. For this I will give you the rubies.”
When the shadows of the next evening fell Chung waited beneath his canopy. Soon, his eyes saw, toiling towards him, one of his spearmen clutching a wound.
“Father of the moon,” wailed this man. “You are betrayed. We were surprised in ambush by thirty spearmen of Tok-Hi, your enemy. And they have taken your daughter.”
Chung arose from his seat.
“Bring me hot irons,” he rumbled. “And two yellow snakes in a sack. This sorcerer Tsao shall take three days to die.
With eight spearmen and four torturers, Chung stood outside the hut of Tsao.
“Come on, oh striped carrion dog,” he roared. “Bring out the chain of rubies which I gave to you and pray for sweet death to release you from the exquisite and quite amazing tortures to which I shall now put you.”
Tsao came out of the hut.
Then he threw off the dirty yellow robe and the black-glassed spectacles and Chung gazed in amazement, for before him stood Ling-Tok.
He was dressed in a robe of green silk and upon his left wrist was the chain of rubies. In his right hand was a jewelled dagger.
“Oh, father-in-law-to-be,” he said. “Most gracious of men. “This plot was made by your daughter, Twinkling Emerald, and my unworthy self. It was I who sent word to my father Tok-Hi to capture your daughter and, in his yamen, at this moment, she speaks the same words to him as I speak to you.
“He cannot demand a ransom for her because I am here your prisoner. You cannot demand a ransom for me because he holds her.
“There, lord of the stars, send word to my father Tok-Hi. Tell him that to-morrow evening you will send me with an escort of six spearmen to the Valley of Stones.
“Tell him also that you will send with me a helmet filled with precious stones as ransom for your daughter.
“Tell him to send to meet us, Twinkling Emerald, with a like escort and a helmet filled with jewels as a ransom for me.
“Then with the jewels as dowry Twinkling Emerald and my unworthy self will, accompanied by the twelve spearmen, journey to the hills above Yulin, where, blessed — we hope — by our respective father’s prayers, I propose to set up for myself — as a bandit chief.
“But, esteemed parent-in-law, if you do not agree to this then will I drive this dagger into my heart, and Twinking Emerald — who hath a dagger in her sleeve will do the same, after which neither you nor my own honourable father will ever again have face, for your names will be a laughing stock in every bazaar in China, and yellow dogs will yawn when they set eyes upon you both.”
ON the next evening Chung sat beneath his canopy of purple silk and laughed until his great stomach trembled. And away on the rocky road towards Yulin rode Ling-Tok with his arm about Twinkling Emerald. Behind them, carrying two helmets filled with jewels were twelve spearmen. And Ling-Tok sang a song of love and of the devotion of unworthy children to their honourable parents.
PEARLS BEFORE TIME (1939)
MR. ALONZO MACTAVISH, resplendent in a plum-coloured velvet smoking jacket, over an immaculate white evening waistcoat, his green eyeglass screwed into his left eye and the usual urbane smile about his mouth, gazed appreciatively at his visitor.
‘Of course, I’m curious,’ he said. ‘When I receive a note from a lady whom I do not know, informing me that she is calling to see me at 11.30 at night on a matter of the most extreme importance to myself, then I become merely curious. But when, on her arrival I am enthralled by her face, her figure, the superb simplicity of her evening frock, and the amazing charm of her personality, then I am both curious and delighted.’
She smiled. Alonzo noted the curve of her mouth, the whiteness of her little teeth.
‘Mr. MacTavish,’ she said, ‘my name is Janet Larne.’ She glanced at a tiny wrist watch worn over her long glove. ‘I have not a great deal of time at my disposal, and I must also have some regard for my reputation. Therefore, if you do not mind, I will state my business very quickly and go.’
‘And do we never meet again?’ he queried softly, cocking one eyebrow.
Her smile deepened. ‘That depends upon you,’ she said. She look a cigarette from the box he held towards her. As he lit it for her he looked through the flame of the lighter into her eyes. They were violet and mischievous.
‘First of all,’ she said as he sat down in the armchair opposite her, ‘you are wrong when you say that you do not know me. You mean you do not recognise me. Do you remember a night, some four years ago in Zagreb, when the timely intervention of your foot in the way of a more than usually intelligent plainclothesman allowed a young woman to get out of the Zukloc Club with somebody’s pearl necklace in her handbag?’
Alonzo whistled. ‘So that was you, was it?’ he murmured. ‘I remember very well. It took me an hour to convince that detective that I hadn’t tripped him deliberately. Now tell me—’
‘Please,’ she interrupted. ‘I said that I haven’t a great deal of time.
‘A year ago,’ she continued, ‘I found myself in a similar predicament. Once again I was helped, but this time my saviour was not quite so charming. His name was Dr. Theodor Klaat — your most bitter enemy. I need not tell you that when Dr. Klaat renders a woman a service he exacts the full payment.’
She looked down at her gloved hands. Alonzo nodded, his face serious.
‘I have worked with Klaat since then,’ she said, ‘not because I wanted to, but because I had to. And always I have sought a means of escape. Well, I think I have found it.’
Alonzo smiled. ‘Go on,’ he said. ‘I am definitely interested. Anything to do with Dr. Klaat—’ He shrugged his shoulders expressively.
‘The two most polished and practised jewel thieves in Europe,’ she went on calmly, ‘are Theodor Klaat and yourself. But Klaat has been out of actual business for a year, and his present scheme — of which I, and I hope you, will take advantage — is entirely legal and essentially moral.
‘We were in Paris last month,’ she said. ‘Klaat had opened a jewellery business there as a front for operations. No one was more surprised than he was when the Villiato Syndicate, the people who had bought the Silm pearl, placed it in his hands for sale.
‘He has brought it to England to offer it to a firm which is interested. He proposes to do the business quite honestly, so that it will serve as a “build-up” for future illegal operations.’
Alonzo nodded. ‘Very clearly put,’ he said. ‘And so?’
She rose from her chair. As Alonzo got to his feet a suggestion of a delicate perfume came to his appreciative nostrils. ‘Dr. Klaat is living at 367 Queen’s Gate,’ she said quietly. ‘The Silm pearl is in the wall safe in the library, awaiting the inspection of the pearl merchants, who are to view it on Thursday morning. It is now Monday night, I am going to suggest that Mr. MacTavish removes the pearl from the safe on Wednesday night at about 10.30 o’clock.
‘The house should be empty at that time. I shall make it my business to give Klaat’s servant an evening off. I shall also arrange that he and I go to the theatre and on to supper afterwards.
‘And,’ she continued, moving a little closer to Alonzo, ‘if Mr. MacTavish is interested I will even give him the combination that opens the safe!’
He grinned. She noted his white teeth, approvingly.
‘It sounds very good to me,’ he said. ‘But may I ask you why you are taking all this trouble?’
‘Certainly,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t dispose of that pearl. You could. If you agree to see this thing through I shall leave Klaat on Thursday. But before I go I expect you to pay me the sum of £7,000 for my share of the pearl. Do you agree?’
He looked at her, his eyes twinkling.
‘Definitely,’ he said. ‘We are now partners. Don’t you think we ought to dine together tomorrow on the strength of it?’
She shook her head. ‘I will give you dinner next week,’ she said demurely. ‘At the end of next week, in my flat in the Rue Henri Martin — after our little business is completed. Here is the combination of the safe. And now, I must go.’
They shook hands. Looking into her eyes Alonzo thought they were much softer — much less enigmatical.
‘Au revoir, partner,’ she said. ‘Till next week.’
WHEN he heard the apartment door close behind her, Alonzo rang the bell.
Wakers, his eyes gleaming with excitement, his black butler’s bow almost under one ear, slid into the room.
‘I suppose you were listening at the door?’ Alonzo queried.
‘You bet I was, guv’nor,’ grinned Wakers. ‘What a chance for you to get back on Klaat. Blimey! All you got to do is to get into Klaat’s place next Wednesday night, open the safe, an’ grab that pearl. It’s money from home. It’s easy!’
‘Precisely,’ said MacTavish. ‘That’s just it. It’s too easy. Wakers, you are an excellent accomplice, a very good imitation butler — when you wear your tie straight — but as a psychologist you are definitely no good at all.’ He blew a smoke ring into the air. ‘Tomorrow morning,’ he went on, ‘I want you to ring Tony Belazzo in Paris. Ask him to find out what he can about this Villiato Syndicate, the people who have commissioned Klaat to sell the Silm pearl, and then telephone me here tomorrow evening without fail.’
AT 10.30 o’clock on Wednesday evening Mr. MacTavish, immaculate in evening clothes, drove his car into Senton’s Mews in Queen’s Gate, got out, walked quietly round to No. 367 and, taking a bunch of skeleton keys from his pocket, opened the door.
The house was still and in darkness. He switched on his flashlight and investigated. Three minutes afterwards he was in the library. Two minutes after that he had found the wall safe, and, using the combination given him by the girl, opened it. At 10.45, smoking a cigarette, he closed the front door of the house behind him and walked to the telephone call box on the corner of Queen’s Gate and Harrington Crescent. He opened the door slightly and stood, leaning against the outside of the booth, whistling quietly to himself. At 11 o’clock the phone bell in the booth rang. Alonzo stepped in and took off the receiver. Waker’s voice came over the line.
‘They’ve just left the show at the Palace, guv’nor,’ he said. ‘They took a cab outside, an’ I heard Klaat tell the driver to go along to the Diadem Club. I s’pose they’ll have supper there. What’s the next move?’
‘This is the next move, Jimmy,’ said Alonzo. ‘I’m going to the Diadem now. I shall be there in 15 minutes — that is, at about 11.30. You hang about on the other side of the road opposite the club entrance.
‘About a quarter of an hour after I go in,’ he went on, ‘I think you’ll find that the girl will come out. Follow her, and take care you don’t lose her. Find out where she’s going to stay, and telephone through to the flat. Have you got all that?’
‘I got it, guv’nor,’ said Wakers. ‘So long!’
Alonzo came out of the booth, strolled back to the mews, and started up the car. Then, his silk hat at its usual angle, his green eyeglass screwed tightly into his left eye, he drove through the theatre traffic towards the Diadem Club.
