Come Easy, Go Easy Read online




  COME EASY – GO EASY

  JAMES HADLEY

  CHASE

  COPYRIGHT © 1960

  CHAPTER ONE

  I

  An emergency call came in at five minutes to eleven, just when I was getting ready to leave. If it had come in five minutes later I could have safely ignored it, but with still five minutes to go before official closing time, I was stuck with it.

  The night telephone was hooked to a tape recorder that automatically began recording when the telephone bell rang. It was part of this Big-Brother-is-watching-you efficiency system we have.

  I picked up the receiver.

  "Lawrence Safes Corporation—night service," I said.

  "This is Henry Cooper." One of those well fed, arrogant voices that come out of owners of vast incomes and super-de-luxe penthouses. "How fast can you get a man to me? I'm in trouble with my safe."

  I thought: here goes my evening with Janey. This makes the third time this month I've had to stand her up.

  "Where are you, sir?" I said, keeping my voice polite because the tape was recording, and I had already been in trouble for snarling at a customer.

  "Ashley Arms. I want a man down here right away."

  I looked at the clock on the desk. It was two minutes to eleven. If I told him the night service had shut down, I would get the gate. The way I was fixed for money, that was a luxury I couldn't afford.

  "Can you tell me what is wrong with the safe, sir?"

  "I've mislaid the key. Get a man down here fast!"

  He banged down the receiver and I banged down mine.

  I had promised Janey I would pick her up at eleven-fifteen. We had planned to go dancing at a club that had recently opened. She would be dressed and waiting. Ashley Arms was at the other side of the town. By the time I got there, opened this goddamn safe, got back and parked the van, taken a trolley to her place it would be half-past twelve. I couldn't imagine Janey waiting for me that long. She had told me the next time I stood her up would be the last.

  I couldn't telephone her from the office. Private calls weren't allowed. There was a phone booth down the road. I would have to call her from there.

  I grabbed my tool kit, locked up and went out to the truck. It was beginning to rain and I hadn't a raincoat. The traffic was heavy and there was nowhere to park when I reached the phone booth. It took me ten minutes circling around before some guy pulled out and I could leave the truck.

  It was twenty minutes past eleven when I dialled Janey's number. She answered right away as if she had been sitting by the telephone waiting for me to call up and tell her the date was off.

  As soon as I started to explain, she hit the ceiling.

  "If you can't come, then I know someone who can," she said. "I warned you, Chet. This is the last time. I'm sick and tired of you breaking dates with me. This is the last time!"

  "But Janey, I can't help . . ."

  But I was talking on a dead line. She had hung up on me.

  I dialled her number again, but she didn't answer. I let the bell ring for a couple of minutes, then I cut the connection and went out to the truck.

  To make matters worse, it was now raining fit to drown a duck. I drove over to Ashley Arms in a mood of black depression. I cursed the Lawrence Safes Corporation. I cursed Mr. Henry Cooper and I cursed myself for not bringing a raincoat with me, knowing I would have to walk home after I had taken the truck back to the depot and the rain would ruin my best suit that wasn't much anyway.

  Ashley Arms was a big apartment block in the best residential district of the town.

  I walked into the lobby and over to the doorman's office. He told me I would find Mr. Cooper's apartment on the third floor.

  Henry Cooper was tall and bulky, and very, very arrogant. He had a purple complexion of a heavy drinker and a waist-line of a solid eater. He opened the front door himself, and as soon as I stepped into the hall he began to yell at me for taking so long to get out there.

  I said the traffic was bad and I was sorry. This he brushed aside, and still muttering, he led the way into a luxuriously furnished lounge.

  He walked over to an oil painting of a fat woman in the nude that looked good enough to be an original Rubens, but probably wasn't, and swung the painting on its hinges aside. Behind it was one of our super-de-luxe wall safes.

  As I was setting down my tool kit, I became aware of a girl lying full length on the settee. She was in a white evening dress cut so low I could see the tops of her breasts. She was leafing through a magazine, a cigarette between her full red lips, and she glanced up and stared curiously at me.

  She reminded me a little of Janey. She had the same coloured hair and the same long, slender legs, but there the resemblance ended. This girl had a lot of class whereas Janey had no class at all. Janey had a provocative shape, personality and a duck tail walk that made men stare after her, but it was all pretty brash. There was nothing brash about this girl.

  "How soon can you open it?" Cooper demanded. "I'm in a hurry."

  With a conscious effort I shifted my eyes from the girl and went over to the safe.

  "Not long, sir, if you will give me the combination."

  He scribbled the combination down on a scrap of paper and gave it to me. Then he went over to the cellarette and began to fix himself a highball. As I started work on the safe, I heard a telephone bell ring somewhere in the apartment.

  "I guess that'll be Jack," Cooper said to the girl and he went out of the room, leaving the door open.

  The girl said softly, "Hurry it up, buster. The old stinker has promised me a pearl necklace. I'm all in a lather he might change his mind."

  That really jolted me. She was looking directly at me and there was a cold glitter in her eyes, the kind of glitter Janey had sometimes when she was after something from me she thought might be hard to get.

  "This won't take me three minutes," I said. "Just relax."

  In less than that time I had the safe open.

  "Some safe!" she said. "Why, a kid could open it!"

  I was looking inside the safe. Stacked on three shelves were packets of hundred dollar bills. I've never seen so much money. I couldn't make a guess how much there was—probably half a million dollars.

  The girl slid off the settee and joined me by the safe. I could smell her perfume and her arm touched mine: that was how close we were together.

  "Aladdin's Cave!" she said breathlessly. "Oh boy! Wouldn't it be nice to help ourselves!"

  I heard the tinkle of the telephone bell, warning me Cooper had finished speaking. It warned the girl too for she hurriedly returned to the settee.

  I shut the safe door as Cooper came into the room.

  "Haven't you got it open yet?" he barked at me.

  "One second, sir," I said and clicked back the lock. "It's open now."

  He tried the safe door, opening it only a few inches, then he grunted.

  "You'd better get me a duplicate key."

  I said I would do that I packed my tools and started for the door.

  I said good-night to the girl on the settee. She just nodded to me. At the front door Cooper gave me a couple of dollars. He gave them grudgingly. He said if ever he needed service in the future for me to give it faster than this time. He told me not to forget the duplicate key.

  As I drove back to the depot, I thought about the money in Cooper's safe.

  For years now I had been dissatisfied with the money I had been earning. For years I had realised I was never going to get anywhere in this job of mine.

  I thought what I could do with that money if it were mine. I thought how easy it would be to break into that apartment, open that sardine can of a safe and help myself.

  I told myself I wasn't going
to do it, but the thought stayed with me. It was still with me the following night when Roy Tracey came in to relieve me.

  I had known Roy most of my life. We had gone to school together, and his father had put him to work with the Lawrence Safes Corporation the same day my father had the same bright idea for me.

  In appearance Roy was a lot like me: he was tall and dark and heavily built. He wore a pencil line moustache that gave him an Italian look. He had the same itch for money as I had.

  Unlike me, women had no place in his life. He had been married when he was nineteen, but it hadn't worked out. The girl had left him after a year and that finished women for him. His one mania was playing the horses. He was always short of money and was always trying to borrow off me.

  I told him about Cooper's money.

  We were alone together in the office. It was raining hard, and rain streamed down the windows. I was in no hurry to get home. I told Roy about the girl in Cooper's apartment and how I had opened the safe.

  "At a guess there's around half a million in hundred dollar bills," I said, wandering around the office while Roy sat at the desk, smoking. "Imagine owning that kind of money."

  "Some guys have all the luck."

  "Yeah." I went to the window and stared out into the wet night. "Well, I guess I'll go home. Some night!"

  "Don't run away," Roy said. "A half a million? As much as that?"

  "It can't be less. There were three shelves of it."

  "Sit down. Let's talk about it." We looked at each other. There was a tense expression in his eyes. "I could use money like that, Chet."

  I sat down. My heart was beginning to thump.

  "So could I."

  "I'm in the hole for five hundred bucks," he said. "I've got to get some money. Look, suppose we knock this safe off?" He tilted back his chair, staring at me. "It sounds a soft touch."

  "It could be."

  There was a pause while we both stared at the rain, beating against the window.

  Finally, Roy said, "I've been waiting for a chance like this for some time. I'm fed up living the way I live. You've the same idea, haven't you?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, how about it? Do you want to do it?"

  "No, I don't want to do it, but it's got to be done. It's too easy to pass up."

  He grinned at me.

  "Don't look so scared. If we use our heads, we'll get away with it."

  I sat on the edge of the desk.

  "Yes."

  "Let's work on it. Let's talk about it."

  We spent the next hour making plans. The more we talked about it, the easier it seemed.

  "We've got to find out when this guy leaves his apartment. That's the one thing we must know," Roy said. "Once we know that, then we move in, open the safe and help ourselves. Here's what you do. You take the duplicate key he wants to his place and talk to the doorman. He'll tell you when Cooper is out. Doormen like to talk. He'll tell you if you handle him right." He blew smoke at me. "When we know he's out, we walk in and pick up the money."

  Put like that it seemed the simplest and easiest job in the world.

  II

  The next evening I went down to the Ashley Arms. I was wearing the Lawrence Safes Corporation uniform: a buff blouse, bottle green slacks and a peak cap with a badge.

  Roy had said he would meet me with the truck as soon as he was off duty. I get to the Ashley Arms a little after ten-thirty.

  The doorman was in his office, thumbing through a paperback, a bored expression on his face.

  He recognised me as I came into the lobby and nodded to me.

  "You again? If you're looking for Mr. Cooper you're unlucky. He's out."

  "When will he be back?" I asked, leaning up against the counter and taking out a pack of cigarettes.

  The doorman glanced up at the wall clock.

  "In half an hour."

  "I'll wait. I have a special delivery for him."

  "Leave it with me. I'll give it to him."

  I shook my head.

  "I can't do that. It's the key of his safe. I have to hand it to him personally and get a receipt."

  He shrugged his shoulders, taking the cigarette I offered him,

  "Please yourself."

  "Are you sure he'll be back in half an hour?"

  "Yeah. He never misses. He leaves here at eight and gets back at eleven."

  "Some guys are like that," I said. "You can set a clock by them."

  "He's one of them. He owns three night clubs. He checks them every night. Sundays included. He comes back here for dinner at eleven, then he goes out again around one o'clock to see the clubs shut down and count the loot. He never misses."

  "Are you on duty all night?" I asked casually.

  "I go off at one. After one, we lock up here. Everyone living here has a key." The doorman scowled. "You'd be surprised the number of times I get dragged out of bed because some dope has forgotten his key."

  This was falling right into my lap.

  "Cooper lost the key to his safe the other night," I said. "He loused up my evening."

  "A great guy for losing keys," the doorman said bitterly. "Only last week he lost his door key. He had me out of my bed at five o'clock in the morning for Pete's sweet sake!"

  "Is that the time he gets back?"

  "Yeah, then sleeps all day ... the way some guys live!"

  I now had the information I wanted. I casually changed the subject. We chewed the fat about this and that until Cooper came in.

  He came in a minute to eleven o'clock.

  I crossed the hall and met him half way.

  "I have the key to your safe, sir," I said.

  It took him a moment or so to recognise me.

  "Oh, you." He scowled at me. "Let's have it then."

  "I'd better see if it's okay, sir. If I could come up …"

  "Oh, sure."

  He led the way to the elevator.

  Reaching the third floor, he unlocked his front door and I followed him into the lounge.

  I tried the key in the safe door while he stood over me. A wild idea flashed into my mind that when I opened the safe door I'd turn on him, knock him out and help myself to his money, but I didn't do h. Instead, I relocked the safe and handed him the key.

  "It's okay, sir."

  "Right." He put the key in his pocket. "Thanks." He said it grudgingly and his hand went to his pocket, but that was as far as it went. I could read his mind. He had already given me two bucks. He was telling himself that was plenty.

  That little act of meanness decided me. For the past twenty-four hours I had been in two minds about taking his money, but I had only wanted an excuse to push me over the line. He had given it to me.

  I left him, took the elevator to the ground floor, waved to the doorman and went out into the rain.

  Roy was sitting in the truck, waiting for me.

  "Was that Cooper? The fat punk with the red face?"

  "That's him." I got into the truck beside Roy. "There's nothing to it," I went on as he drove the truck into the street "We can skin him on Sunday."

  We decided to do the job on Sunday because both of us were off duty then. Roy hired a car and we were set to go.

  It was a drowning wet night which was a good thing for us. The rain kept people off the streets, not that there were ever many people wandering around at one o'clock in the morning in this onehorse town.

  Roy picked me up at my place and we drove to the Ashley Arms, arriving there, as planned, at five minutes to one a.m.

  Roy slid the car between a Cadillac and a Packard in the private parking lot with about forty other cars left out in the rain.

  We sat side by side, watching the front entrance of the building. We were both pretty worked up. "I could hear Roy's breathing coming fast through his short, thick nose, and I wondered if he could hear my heart pounding.

  As the hands of the dashboard clock moved to the hour, we saw Cooper come out and cross over to a white Jaguar, parked ten yards fro
m where we waited. He came out, running, his head bent against the rain, and he didn't look our way. We watched him slide his bulk into the car and then drive off into the darkness.

  "That's one of them out of the way," Roy said. His voice sounded husky and unsteady.

  A few minutes later we saw the doorman close the glass doors of the main entrance and turn the key. We watched him through the glass doors walk across the lobby and disappear down the stairs to the basement.

 

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