Delphi collected works o.., p.95
Delphi Collected Works of Peter Cheyney Illustrated, page 95
An’ why not! Because stuck up in electric lights right across the front of the place is the name of the dame who is starrin’ in the floor show an’ that name is Zellara — the same name that was written on the bit of paper that I found in the clip chamber of Pepper’s gun.
Boy, this is my lucky day.
I go inta the restaurant an’ sit down at a table an’ order a hot dish an’ some lager beer an’ I start doin’ a big reasonin’ out act with myself.
Here is what I think. You gotta remember that I said I thought it was funny for Pepper to keep that bit of paper with the name on it when he coulda remembered it easy — you can’t very well forget a name like Zellara — well now I reckon that I know why he did keep it, an’ I will soon know if I am right or wrong.
I reckon that Pepper knew this Zellara. He probably contacted her right here in Mexico City an’ maybe she was the dame who gave him the hot tip that sent him runnin’ inta Mexico without time to finish writin’ that letter to Scattle.
But whether or not she knew that he was an F.B.I. agent I don’t know, an’ I can’t take a chance on that. I have just got to go on bein’ Mr. Hellup an’ try to find out what’s goin’.
I sit there rackin’ my brains to find out some angle for gettin’ next to this baby an’ gettin’ her to talk very cold turkey to me but you gotta realise that this ain’t an easy thing when you don’t even know the dame.
I get the idea that this Zellara mighta been a bit stuck on Pepper or that he thought she knew somethin’ an’ made a play for her and worked a big sex-appeal act which came off one hundred per cent.
The thing that I wanta find out is whether this Zellara dame knew Pedro, but it ain’t very much good askin’ her because if she did an’ is not on the up-an’-up she ain’t goin’ to tell me is she?
Then all of a sudden an idea hits me right in the back of the dome like I was struck by lightning. It is a nervy sorta idea an’ one that might work very bad for me if it don’t come off. But if it does come off... oh boy....
I reckon I am goin’ to take a chance on two things. I am goin’ to take a chance that this Zellara baby is like all big floor show babies an’ gets around the frontier towns so much an’ meets so many guys who fall for ’em that they don’t even remember ten per cent of the mugs. I am goin’ to be one of these mugs.
The second thing is that I am goin’ to take a chance that Pepper did a vampin’ act with Zellara to get information outa her. Maybe she was a bit stuck on him. Anyhow I am goin’ to play it that way an’ trust to luck.
I pay my bill an’ ease outa the restaurant an’ go onto the dance floor. The place is a honey of a place, all white an’ green an’ gold, with soft shaded lights, an’ the dames are an eyeful. Boy, I would like to have time on hand an’ about ten thousand smackers, an’ just stick around a place like this seein’ which dame knew most of the answers.
All the men are wearin’ tuxedos but they still look like tough babies, an’ there is that sorta soft undercurrent of chit-chat that you can always hear in a dump like that.
I sit down an’ order myself a drink an’ make a signal to some guy who looks like one of the floor managers. He comes over.
I start talkin’ nice an’ easy to this bozo. I tell him that this is the first time I have been in Mexico City, an’ that it is certainly just what the doctor ordered. I tell him that I been doin’ some odd cattle an’ horse tradin’ around the Sierras an’ that things ain’t so good an’ that I reckon that I might as well take it easy an’ spend a little dough an’ take a peek at a doll or two.
He says why not?
I ask him about the floor show an’ he says it is very good an’ then I ease the conversation around to Zellara. I say that I saw a dame with the same monicker singin’ in some small towns around the Aguas Calientes an’ he says that this is certain because she has worked all over the place in all sorts of dumps an’ that she ain’t been in the big-time for long. He says she is one helluva success.
Then I say I got it. I say that I saw this dame doin’ a swell act in Manzanillo when I was in the banana business an’ he says that is O.K. because she was workin’ here at the Casa Mexicali when he was assistant manager there. I say ain’t that funny an’ don’t it just show you how small the world is an’ he says you bet it does an’ scrams.
The place has filled up; the band — an’ those boys could play I’m tellin’ you — is handin’ out some hot stuff, an’ waiters an’ people are rushin’ about the place an’ some of the dames who are comin’ into this dump have got some frocks on ’em that would make a Chicago fence jump in the lake outa sheer rage.
Then, all of a sudden, there is a roll on the drums an’ a helluva chord on an’ the floor-show starts. The big curtain that is swung across the dance floor goes away to one side an’ one of the niftiest legged choruses I have ever lamped starts in to work a number that would have woke up a corpse.
Me... I am gettin’ very interested.
I sit back. After a few minutes the first number is over. Some little curtains at the back part an’ out comes Zellara. Here is a dame who has got somethin’. She is a real Mexican. Little, slim an’ made like a piece of indiarubber. She has got a swell shape an’ a lovely face with a pair of the naughtiest lookin’ brown eyes I have ever seen in my life. She sings a song an’ goes into a rumba dance. This baby has got what it takes all right.
Me, I have seen dames swing it before but I reckon that if this Zellara hadda been loose in the Garden of Eden, Adam woulda taken a quick run-out powder an’ the serpent woulda been found hidin’ behind the rose bushes with his fingers crossed. At the risk of repeatin’ myself I will tell you guys that this dame is a one hundred per cent exclusive custom-built 1939 model fitted with all the speed gadgets an’ guaranteed not to skid goin’ round the corners. Me, I have often thought that if I hadda dame like this Zellara....
But why should I bring that up?
When she dances over my way I look her over carefully. There is a lotta intelligence in her face an’ she’s got a nice, firm little jaw. I reckon this dame could be a bit tough if she wanted to.
Well, I will try anythin’ once.
I nod to a waiter who is standin’ near my table an’ ask this guy to bring me a piece of paper and an envelope. Then I write her a note:
Dear Zellara,
Maybe you’ll be surprised to know that an old friend of yours, nobody else but Wylie T. Hellup who met you in Manzanillo when you was working at the Casa Mexicali is sitting here in front bursting with admiration for your show.
And not only that but I’ve got something durned important to talk to you about — something serious. Can I see you tonight?
Love and kisses,
Wylie.”
I stick this in the envelope an’ address it to her an’ ask the waiter guy to send it around back when her number’s over. I give him a dollar bill an’ he says O.K. he’ll look after it.
Pretty soon she finishes her number an’ hops off. I give myself another drink an’ stick around. After a bit the waiter guy comes back with a note from her. I open it. It says:
Amigo,
How marvellous to meet any of my old friends from Manzanillo. I have to do another show in half an hour’s time, but after that if you like to give me supper somewhere else that would be wonderful.
Adios, Zellara.”
I slip the waiter another two bucks an’ think it is cheap at the price. I get up an’ go inta the men’s room. There ain’t anybody there. I take out my billfold an’ slip out the piece of paper that I found in the clip chamber in Pepper’s gun. I compare it with the note I have just got from Zellara. The handwriting is the same!
O.K. So now we know why Pepper kept that bit of paper. He tore it off a letter or a note that he probably got from Zellara, an’ he kept it so that some time in future if he wanted to he could check on her handwritin’; an’ the only reason he would wanta do this would be because he would think that somewhere in some police record there would be a specimen of this baby’s handwritin’!
I get my hat an’ I go out. I walk back towards the hotel an’ do a little quiet thinkin’. I have gotta move from now on. I reckon it is no good beatin’ about the bush. It is stickin’ out a foot that this Zellara had somethin’ to do with Pepper’s goin’ down inta the Sierra an’ meetin’ up with Pedro, an’ you can bet your sweet an’ holy life that she wasn’t in this job on her own, that there was somebody behind her an’ there is only one way that I reckon I can find this out.
When I get back to the hotel I go to my room an’ telephone for a bell-hop. After a bit a guy comes up. He is not a bad lookin’ guy. He looks smart. I tell him that when I blow outa Mexico City I am goin’ way up inta the silver district, an’ the spot I am goin’ to is not a very healthy spot. I tell him that I wanta get me a little hand gun, one of them very small ones. Does he know where I could get a gun like this? He says yeah an’ he tells me the name of a dump where I can buy one. He also says if it will be any use to me he will ring through to this dump which is owned by a pal of his, an’ tell him I am comin’ round. I say this is swell.
I then slip this guy five bucks an’ ask him if he has got some other pal in Mexico City who is a very intelligent guy an’ who maybe is in the garage business, the sorta guy who does not ask too many questions an’ who would like to earn himself fifty bucks. He don’t haveta think at all. He says sure he knows a guy an’ that it is his cousin, a feller called Starita, who is a nice guy an’ has a garage on the Calle Ferdinando. I say O.K. an’ that after he has phoned through to the gun guy he can telephone through to his cousin an’ say I’m comin’ round to see him. He says O.K. an’ I slip him another five spot.
I go downstairs an’ I ease around to this place he has told me an’ I get the gun. It is a little blue steel .22 pop gun — a seven shot automatic, a very nice little gun provided you hit the feller in the right place with it, but small enough for what I want.
I go back to the hotel, an’ strap on my shoulder holster with the Luger in it under my arm. Then I ring the desk for a piece of adhesive tape. When the bell-hop brings this up an’ scrams, I take the little .22 automatic an’ I stick the barrel end in the top of my sock so that my garter grip goes over it an’ holds it. I cut a thin piece of the adhesive tape off an’ stick it over the butt end of the gun an’ on to my leg on each side so that I have got it fixed so that while I can walk with this gun all right an’ nobody would know it was there, I can grab it out just by pullin’ my trouser leg up an’ maybe tearin’ a piece of skin off in the process.
I then ease around an’ see the garage guy on the Calle Ferdinando.
This guy is intelligent all right. I tell him just what I want him to do an’ make him repeat it so’s he knows it an’ don’t get anythin’ wrong, after which I slip this guy twenty-five bucks an’ say that if he will come round to my hotel tomorrow mornin’ he will find another twenty-five in an envelope at the desk if he has done the job properly. He says O.K. he will fix it.
He ain’t a bit surprised because no guy in Mexico City is ever surprised at anything.
You’re tellin’ me!
VI. CAN I TAKE IT?
IT IS TWO o’clock when I blow back to the Estancia de Elvira an’ go around to the artistes’ entrance an’ ask for Zellara. When I go inta her dressin’ room I get wise to the fact that this Zellara is as good a looker off stage as she is on.
One time when I was in England on the van Zelden case some guy said a dame was a “pocket Venus.” Well, I reckon this Zellara is a “pocket Venus.” She is like a little statue of the real thing; but boy, is everything in proportion or is it?
As I stand there lampin’ this baby I don’t think that I have ever seen so much honey done up in one bundle before. I reckon Zellara would start some biological urge workin’ in the old gentleman who said that he would rather get married to a rattlesnake than a dame.
She has got her hair done up in Spanish fashion with a high comb an’ a mantilla, an’ she is wearin’ a flame coloured frock that would knock your eye right out.
You gotta realise that I am a bit jittery myself because as you guys know I have never seen this dame before to-night in my life an’ this fast stuff I have pulled on her about meetin’ her in Manzanillo is all very well providin’ she don’t remember that she didn’t.
She looks me over very slow an’ quiet, an’ then she looks up at me with one hand restin’ on her hip an’ she says:
“Wylie, honey, is eet so good seeing you again?”
I told you that she has a sweet little voice that is like a bird f an’ when she calls me Honey I feel that sorta shivery feelin’ I have when I get the idea that I have registered with a dame. I go towards her an’ I put my hand out sorta casual in case she just wants to shake hands. But she don’t. She gets hold of my hand an’ she sorta pulls herself towards me, an’ the next thing I know she has got her face up against mine an’ I am kissin’ her like I was a Robert Taylor close-up.
I am tellin’ you mugs that it was such a helluva kiss that when she took her mouth away from mine it was like tearin’ porous plaster off grandpa.
“Well, kiddo,” I say, “is this good or is it, seein’ you again like this? I reckon they was good times we had in Manzanillo.”
I She takes a gold cigarette case off her make-up table, gives herself a cigarette an’ throws one to me.
“Ver’ good times,” she says. “You remember the night, Wylie — the night that eet took t’ree four beeg men to t’row you out of the Casa Mexicali, wiz Zellara ronning round next morning to the police station to get you free.” She raises her eyes an’ looks up to heaven. “Caramba! Were you a madman!”
I think I’d better turn this line of conversation off, otherwise I am goin’ to get myself in bad.
“O.K., baby,” I tell her. “Those days are gone but the present is always with us, so where do we go from here?”
She puts her head on one side.
“There is a ver’ nice place I know, Wylie,” she says. “El Doro. We go there. We eat, we drink, we talk about...” she looks at me sorta arch— “what we shall do to-morrow.”
I grin at her.
“That’s O.K. by me,” I tell her, “although I’m more interested in what we’re goin’ to do before breakfast.”
“Come, beeg boy,” she says.
We grab a cab outside an’ drive round to this El Doro. It looks to me as if everythin’ is swell. If I have a bitta luck to-night maybe I am goin’ to get next to something.
I start working out a sorta time-table in my mind. It is just past two in the mornin’, an’ while two in the mornin’ don’t mean a thing in Mexico City, I don’t want to leave things too late, because people get sorta tired an’ when they’re tired they don’t do the things they do when they’re feelin’ good.
When we get around to El Doro the Manager, who knows Zellara, rushes around gettin’ us a table in a corner away from everybody. This is a quiet, swell place with a very nice guitar band up on a balcony that don’t disturb you when you wanta talk.
I order a meal, some champagne for Zellara and a bottle of rye for myself, an’ while wer’e eatin’ it we talk plenty. She tells me what she has been doin’, about the places she’s been playin’ in. I just listen an’ don’t say much.
Lookin’ across the table at this baby I see that there is something very attractive about this Zellara.
First of all she is a natural sorta kid. She eats an’ drinks an’ laughs an’ looks you straight in the eye. In point of fact I will go so far as to say that this baby is the sorta baby that any guy would say was one hundred per cent on the up-an’-up. He would say to himself that this was a dame who oould be trusted, that this is the sorta jane who would not pull a fast one on anybody, just because she is one of them straight-thinkin’ natural sorta children of the sun, who just goes along dancin’ an’ singin’ and takin’ what’s comin’ to her on the chin.
Boy, am I poetic guy or am I?
Well, that is what the ordinary bozo is goin’ to think about Zellara, but me, I have met too many dames to be taken in by what they look like. I have found that you can very often know a lot about a dame by lookin’ at her face an’ her ankles. If a dame has got a swell face an’ one hundred per cent ankles she always gets inta trouble, an’ if she has only got sweet ankles she is still a potential menace to a lotta guys.
It is the good lookers who cause the trouble, the reason being that they are good lookers, because you have probably figured out for yourself that the dame who has got a pair of legs like stove-pipes, the same size all the way up an’ down, is the dame who is what they call a good dame, the one who leads the “Down with the Men” campaign, an’ spends her off-time lookin’ through the keyhole inta the kitchen to see if the cook is takin’ a tumble with the ice-man.
I am just in the middle of these great thoughts when Zellara folds her hands under her little chin an’ looks over at me an’ says:
“Cara, tell me, what ees this serious business you wan’ to talk about?”
I look sorta serious.
“Oh that,” I tell her. “Well, here’s the way it goes, honey. You remember when I was playin’ around in Manzanillo in that banana business of mine, there was a guy — a nice guy, a sorta assistant to me — a feller with the name of Pepper. You know, baby,” I go on, “I always had an idea in my head that Pepper was sorta keen on you.”
She don’t bat an eye-lid. Her eyes don’t even waver or flicker for a second. She just goes on lookin’ at me with the same little smile around her mouth. I tell you this dame is good.
“Si-si,” she says, “I remember. Peppere was a nice hombre, ver’ nice, ver’ — what you say good-looking.”
“Sure he was,” I tell her, “I suppose you know what happened to Pepper after he left the banana business?”
“No,” she says, “I don’ know. Tell me, Wylie.”
