Poison ivy, p.9
Poison Ivy, page 9
He says that in order for him to find out who murdered Willie, that the scene in which the murder took place should be re-created, but that it should be re-created, in some place that is away from all antagonistic influences, and that exactly the same circumstances as near as possible to those happening at the time of the murder should also be arranged.
Old man Chayse falls for this like a ton of coal, and right pronto he has a photograph of Joe Madrigaul’s club and suggests to this occulist, whose name is San Reima, that he will build up the exact scene of Joe Madrigaul’s Club in the saloon of his yacht ‘Atlantic Witch’ which is lying down at New London, and that he will try and get down on this boat the people who were around Willie the Goop at the time he was bumped off, which as you will realise beings you into this story.
This San Reima says that it is only necessary to have the people who could have shot Willie the Goop down on this yacht, and that he will get the band playing the same music and he will duplicate the lighting and everything, and that if the yacht is taken three four miles off the coast so as the astral influences can get busy then he will put his finger on the murderer.
All of which looks to me like a first-class pipe-dream except, and I feel I ought to tell you this, that there is no doubt that this guy San Reima is a very weird cuss because the first time I saw him he told me a lot of things about myself which nobody knew but me, and therefore although it looks a bit screwy this guy might be able to do something about this.
To cut a long story short old man Chayse has got a list of all the guys who were around Willie when he was killed, and is going to offer them all five grand each to go down to his yacht, and it looks as if he will get them down there because he says he is going to tell each and every one of them that if they are decent honest citizens they will not mind cashing in and giving him a chance to find out who bumped off Willie, and that if they will not do so then it is only because they have got something to hide.
Now I have told you, Perry, that this looks to me like a pipe-dream. At the same time I reckon that there might be a line in it that you are looking for, and knowing your faculty for following your nose on jobs like this where there aren’t any clues, possibly you will get something out of it.
Now to return to Mirabelle, after I had this talk with Harberry and his guy San Reima I saw this Mirabelle, and she tells me that she thinks this idea is a whole lot of hooey. She also tells me that in her opinion this bump-off of Willie the Goop is a job put up between Saltierra and Carlotta, and as I have told you before she is about as fond of this Carlotta dame as a bunch of rattlesnakes.
Now listen, Perry, I have got an idea in my head. Its just an idea and I’ve got nothing to support it, but I have a sneaky sort of feeling that this blonde Mirabelle Gayford is about sixteen times as dangerous as Carlotta ever was. First of all she is a swell looking piece and I cannot make out why Willie the Goop should have chucked himself at Carlotta like he did unless he had found something out about Mirabelle which wasn’t so good.
The second thing is that I know Harberry Chayse is not quite so stuck on this Mirabelle at the present time as he was, which makes it look as if he had found something out about her. The third thing is that I saw this dame having a very quiet and confidential conversation with Rudy Saltierra round at the back entrance of Joe Madrigaul’s place just when I was leaving there tonight, and the fourth thing, and this is an important thing, is that this Mirabelle has got a cousin who is very stuck on her who has got some job in the U.S. Assay Office which makes it look to me as if this dame might be the one who supplied the original dope about the bullion.
So there you are. Now I have got a couple of other lines that I am working on and I am going to get busy on them. I promised you that I would not break with this story in any newspaper.
Well, so long, Perry, keep your eyes skinned and don’t forget what I told you. You watch out for Mirabelle.
Yours till the cows come home,
HANGOVER.
Now this looks to me like a pretty good sort of letter, and it looks too as if this business is goin’ to get a little bit more involved than I thought it was goin’ to be, although to tell you the truth I am not particularly surprised at Hangover goin’ off to check up on these other lines that he says he has got.
Anyhow maybe this Harberry Chayse an’ this Mirabelle Gayford will be comin’ around some time or tryin’ to contact me somehow, so I wise up the reception clerk at the Hotel Court to call me through at the Delamere if anybody comes an’ asks for me but to keep my address there quiet an’ not to tell a soul. I sweeten this guy with another ten bucks an’ he says that he will look after that O.K. for me.
I then go back to the Delamere an’ read through the Hangover letter again an’ do a lotta quiet thinkin’ because in a funny sorta way I am beginnin’ to make sense outa this thing.
About four o’clock in the afternoon the reception clerk at the Hotel Court comes through an’ he tells me that there has been a telephone call for me from Miss Mirabelle Gayford, an’ this Miss Gayford says that she would be very much obliged if Mr. Perry Rice would call an’ see her at an address in Brooklyn that she has left. She says this business is in connection with the Charles Frene killin’ an’ that it may be well worth my while to go along. She also says that she will be around until five o’clock that evenin’ an’ that maybe I will be savin’ myself a lotta bother if I go around. This message looks to me like one of those things—you know, if I go maybe it’s goin’ to be worth my while an’ if I don’t maybe it ain’t goin’ to be so good for me!
However, this don’t worry me very much because I would not miss goin’ for a lot.
The reception clerk also tells me that there is a letter for me that is marked ‘Very Urgent’ an’ that this has been brought round by some guy from Mrs. Harberry Chayse, an’ I tell the clerk that I will send a messenger round to pick it up.
Altogether it looks like something is goin’ to happen, an’ I go out an’ I drop in at a drug store nearby an’ get the clerk to send the despatch boy around to the Court an’ pick up the letter for me an’ take it round an’ leave it for me at the Delamere as I reckon I will deal with this after I have seen this Mirabelle Gayford.
I go over to Brooklyn pronto an’ after a bit I find this place where I am supposed to meet this dame. It is a very ordinary four-storey buildin’, a sorta commuters apartment house, an’ when I ask the janitor for Miss Gayford he tells me that I will find this apartment No. 12 on the third floor an’ I proceed to do some climbin’, there being no lift.
Apartment No. 12 is at the end of a dark passage an’ does not look quite so hot to me neither does it look like a dump where a dame with money would live. I have a sneakin’ idea in my head that it might have been wise to bring the Luger with me because I have got an idea that this Mirabelle might pull somethin’ fast, but anyway I have left it behind, and I am not a guy for carryin’ a gun when I go to see a woman anyhow.
I knock at the door an’ after a minute somebody opens it. It is a bit dark inside owin’ to the fact that the window blinds are pulled down an’ it takes me a minute to get a look at the guy who has opened the door. He is a big guy with a derby hat an’ he is smilin’ an’ lookin’ as happy as a sandboy.
“Mr. Perry Rice?” he says, an’ when I say yes, he motions that I should go in.
I go into this room an’ take a look around. One window blind is up an’ by the light that is comin’ in I can see that the apartment is empty of furniture except for a coupla packing cases that are stuck about.
The guy shuts the door behind him an’ when I turn round I can see that he is lookin’ at me very old-fashioned.
“Now see here, Mr. Rice,” he says. “You sit down on one of them boxes an’ listen to me. I reckon that you got as much intelligence as the next feller, an’ I reckon that you don’t want to run yourself into any trouble, do you?”
I grin at him, an’ I sit myself down on the box on the other side of the room.
“I wouldn’t know smarty,” I say. “But I didn’t come here to see you. I came here to see Miss Gayford, an’ where is she an’ who are you anyhow?”
Just as I say this the apartment door opens an’ another guy, a very big guy, comes in. He don’t say anythin’, he just nods to the first guy and sits down on another box. This feller looks like a muscle man to me.
“Looky Rice,” says the first guy, “you ain’t goin’ to do yourself no good by bein’ fresh. I reckon you’ll see Miss Gayford when the time’s right. In the meantime we wanta ask you a few questions.”
I grin some more.
“You don’t say,” I crack back. “An’ who is we anyhow?”
He puts his hand in his coat pocket an’ he brings out a badge.
“We’re the Davance Detective Agency,” he says, “an’ we’re representin’ Miss Gayford, an’ I reckon that we don’t wanta waste any more time, Rice. So let’s get busy.”
“Listen, mug,” I tell him. “Why don’t you be your age instead of talkin’ that way. You an’ your Davance Agency make me sick an’ as a detective I reckon you’d make a helluva success as a road-mender. If Miss Gayford is around here you produce her pronto otherwise I’m goin’.”
He looks serious.
“We don’t wanta get tough with you, Rice,” he says. “Now you be good an’ talk nice.”
I am sittin’ on this box with my hands behind me an’ suddenly my fingers touch somethin’ hard. It is the sledge hammer that somebody is goin’ to use to open these packin’ cases with. An’ it looks as if it is goin’ to be plenty useful.
“Listen punk,” I tell him. “You go an’ give yourself a shower. Your brain’s dusty.”
He gets up.
“Come on,” he says to the other guy.
They start comin’ towards me an’ I reckon that it is time I did something about these guys. I pick up the hammer an’ I throw it good an’ hard at the shins of the guy who has been doin’ all the talkin’. It connects an’ he lets out a howl like a hyena an’ flops on to the floor. The other guy rushes me an’ I drop my head an’ it gets him in the guts an’ we proceed to mix up.
Luckily for me the first guy is hurt an’ is sittin’ in the corner feelin’ if his leg is all there, but this other palooka is a real tough an’ he is givin’ me all I can take.
I am not doin’ so well because he contacts me with a swing to the jaw that makes me see about a million stars an’ as I go over he jumps on top of me. He knocks every bit of breath out of me, an’ I roll over an’ drag him with me. This guy is strugglin’ to get on top an’ I want him to because we have rolled over near to the big packin’ case an’ I reckon that if this guy will roll on top of me maybe I can smack him up against the case good an’ hard because I want to finish with him before the other feller comes into action again.
It works. As he swings to get on top of me I let him, an’ as he arrived I stick my foot against the floor an’ push. He smacks up against the side of the case an’ he is so surprised because he didn’t know that it was there that he relaxes for a second an’ during that second I hit him smack between the eyes an’ knock his head back against the case. He goes right out.
I get up an’ go across to the other guy who is still not feelin’ so good an’ who starts scramblin’ to his feet. I yank this guy up by his coat collar an’ I smack him across the puss with a heavy flathander that sends him skyrocketing across the room to where his pal is. I then pick up the hammer an’ sit down on one of the boxes.
“Now listen, sweetheart,” I tell him. “Supposin’ you tell me a few things because otherwise I’m goin’ to get really rough with you guys. You gotta understand that I never did like rough tactics especially from private detective agencies an’ if you ain’t the mug I take you for you’re goin’ to behave an’ like it.”
He don’t say anything but I can see that he is lookin’ behind me at the door. I peep over my shoulder and I see the door openin’ an’ into the room comes a dame that woulda knocked your eye out.
She is a blonde an’ can she wear clothes or can she? Everything she wears is Park Avenue an’ she makes ’em look worth double. This dame is about thirty. She has got sex-appeal an’ knows it an’ she walks with a sorta insolence that takes about five generations of high hats to manufacture. She has got a haughty sorta expression on a face that is naturally durn pretty. In fact she looks so good to me that if I was wrecked on some desert island with this dame I wouldn’t even wave to a passin’ ship. I would just stay put an’ pick cocoanuts.
She is holdin’ a handbag in front of her with both hands an’ when she lets go with one of ’em I see that she has got a little automatic pistol, the sorta thing you use for killin’ gnats with.
She points this at me an’ she starts talkin’. She has got, a pretty voice that is younger than she is an’ she speaks like somebody who has learned how.
“Mr. Rice, I believe,” she says, an’ then she smiles a little bit. “It looks as if you were in command of the situation, but I think I should tell you that if you attempt to move I shall kill you.”
“Sarsaparilla to you, honey,” I crack at her. “You’re the Gayford dame, I suppose. Well, lady, you must have been readin’ some very heavy fiction if you think that you can get away with this sorta stuff. Another thing, if you think that you can start anything around here with that pop-gun you squeeze it an’ see what happens. This place would be lousy with cops before you could wink an’ what good that is goin’ to do you or me I don’t know.”
I get off the box and I walk towards her. I am still grinnin’ and I can see that this dame is burned up because I am not standin’ for this bluff. As I watch her she casts an appealin’ sorta look at the two other guys but they are not startin’ anythin’ else. They are sorta tired.
“It is no good, Mirabelle,” I say, takin’ the gun outa her hand an’ puttin’ it in my pocket, “neither of these guys feel like any more children’s hour stuff. The big feller is just beginnin’ to come back again an’ the other feller has been hit on the shin bone with a sledge hammer which is not a very nice thing. I reckon when they send you their bill in it will cost you plenty.
“Another thing,” I say, “a dame who is as swell as you are with a pretty name like Mirabelle should not employ a bunch of cheap private dicks to go leapin’ around tryin’ to bust information outa me because I am not at all an easy guy in that way.”
She don’t say anything at all, she just stands there glarin’ at me an’ not knowin’ what to do.
“Say, honeybunch,” I tell her, “if you wanted to talk to me why didn’t you come here an’ meet me? Why do you have to have a coupla short arm merchants like these frontin’ for you. Now I gotta a big suggestion to make. You come out with me and maybe we’ll go some place an’ get a drink and talk this thing over nice an’ quiet.”
She stands there an’ she hesitates for a moment, an’ while she is doin’ that I walk across an’ I take her by the arm and I lead her outa the room an’ down the passage. She comes because she is undecided an’ don’t know really what she wants to do. When we get at the top of the stairs I tell her to wait for a minute an’ I go an’ stick my head round the door an’ I tell those two near detectives to go home an’ get themselves a coupla hot baths because I think they need ’em, an’ I also tell ’em that the next time I see ’em kickin’ around I am goin’ to measure ’em for straight-jackets. I then go back to the dame an’ we go downstairs.
Parked outside the place is a big car with a chauffeur. When I ask her if this car belongs to her, she says yes, so we get inside an’ she tells the man to drive to some club near Park Avenue. I don’t say anything for a bit, I am just watchin’ this dame, an’ I am wonderin’ just how much she is puttin’ on an act an’ just how much she is sincere, because I’m tellin’ you that by the looks of her this Mirabelle is a rather nice piece of femme, an’ I think that maybe Hangover has not been right in what he said in his letter.
Still I am not a guy to take chances, so I think I will hear what she has got to say. I offer her a cigarette but she won’t have one, so I just smoke quietly till we get to this club place. This is a pretty swell sorta dump, an’ when we go inside she orders some tea for herself an’ a cocktail for me, after which she opens her handbag, takes out a cigarette, lights it an’ starts in.
“Mr. Rice,” she says, “maybe I have been misinformed about you, but the Davance Detective Agency who have been working for me on this business told me that you were a very rough sort of individual and that their method was the only possible one for getting information from you. It seems that they have failed.”
“That’s O.K. by me, sister,” I say. “Let’s forget all that, but what’s the information?”
“Mr. Rice,” she says, “I was engaged to Charles Chayse who called himself Charles Frene, and who I believe was nicknamed Willie the Goop. I have very good reason to believe that he was killed either by you, Saltierra, or that Carlotta woman, and I am going to move heaven and earth to prove it.
“If you are innocent in this matter then maybe you can be of help to me.”
I nod, although I must say that this business sounds screwy to me, but I tell her that I quite understand the situation, and I also tell her that I certainly did not kill Willie the Goop, because that was my first night in New York an’ I had never even seen or heard of him in my life.
From this she goes on talking about what happened that night at Joe Madrigaul’s place, an’ it is quite obvious to me that she is tryin’ to pump me good an’ hard. I say nothin’ but I lead this dame on to talk as much as I can. After a bit I ask her just how Harberry Chayse is takin’ Willie’s death, an’ whether he is pleased with the way the police are investigatin’ this business, an’ by the way she talks about the old man it is a cinch that she has had some sorta row with him, an’ it begins to look to me as if this dame is playin’ some game of her own.
