Strictly for Cash Page 18

  “There’s nothing like it.”

  “That’s the last thing I’d want to be.”

  “Well, I guess I’ve never had enough money,” I said, surprised at her emphatic tone. “It’s

  my greatest ambition to get my hands on a roll and spend it. The casino is a kind of dress

  rehearsal.”

  “You mean really big money?” She was looking at me with interest.

  “You bet I mean big money.”

  “Well, how will you get it?”

  That stopped me. I suddenly realized I was talking too much.

  “I haven’t an idea. It’s all a pipe-dream, of course. Maybe someone will die and leave me a

  fortune.” I didn’t get the joke over, and I noticed she looked curiously at me.

  I was floundering around to change the subject when she remembered they were giving a

  recording of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony on the radio.

  “Toscanini is conducting,” she said. “Could you bear it?”

  “Go ahead.”

  I had never heard Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony; for that matter I had never heard any

  symphony, and I had only the vaguest idea what it was all about. But when the music came

  pouring out into the sunlit silence, its richness and its surging onrush had me gripping my

  chair. And when it was finally over, Virginia leaned forward and shut off the radio and

  looked at me enquiringly.

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  “Well?”

  “I’ve never heard anything like that before,” I said. “I’ve steered clear of that kind of

  music. I thought it was only for highbrows.”

  “Does that mean you liked it?”

  “I don’t know about that. It did something to me, if that’s anything. All that sound, the

  movement, the way that fella built it up - well, I guess it was something.”

  “Like some more?”

  “Is there any?”

  “I have records inside. The Ninth’s even better. The choral’ll make your hair stand on end.”

  “Then I’d like to hear it.”

  She stood up.

  “Come and help me load up. I’ve one of these record-changing gadgets.”

  I followed her into the big lounge: a comfortable, well-furnished room, full of books and

  water-colours I guessed were hers.

  Against the wall was a massive radiogram, and by it a cabinet full of records.

  “Is this place yours?” I asked, looking round.

  “Oh, yes, but I don’t come here often. I don’t get the chance. When I’m not here I rent it to

  a girl friend who writes novels. She’s in New York right now, but she’ll be back in a couple

  of weeks.”

  “And where will you be?”

  “Anywhere. I might be in China, for all I know.”

  That was a disturbing thought.

  “But you’re here for a couple of weeks?”

  “Possibly three.”

  She loaded the record holder, putting on Beethoven’s Ninth and the Eroica.

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  She sat on the settee away from the radiogram and I sat in an armchair near the open

  casement windows where I could see the beach.

  She was right about the choral in the Ninth. It did make my hair stand on end. When the

  Eroica came to an end she loaded the record holder with a symphony by Mendelssohn and

  another by Schubert, saying she wanted me to hear the differences in their technique.

  It was getting on for seven o’clock by the time we were through playing records, and that

  still gave me five more hours before midnight.

  “You wouldn’t care to go some place for dinner?” I asked. “Nowhere very grand. I don’t

  want to go back and change. But maybe you’ve a date, or something.”

  I waited for her to turn me down, but she didn’t.

  “Have you been to Raul’s yet?”

  “No. Where’s that?”

  “Oh, it’s part of your education to go to Raul’s. It’s on the waterfront. Let’s go. It’s fun.”

  We went to Raul’s in her Lincoln convertible. It was a small Greek restaurant full of lighted

  fish tanks set in the walls, plush seats and gilt-framed mirrors.

  Raul himself, a fat, cheerful Greek, waited on us. He said he knew just what we’d like. He

  didn’t consult us, and started us with bean soup, then turtle steaks and young asparagus

  shoots and baked guava duff to follow.

  While we ate, we talked. Don’t ask me what we talked about. All I can remember was she

  was the easiest person in the world to talk to, and there wasn’t one moment’s silence during

  the whole meal.

  We went on the verandah, overlooking the waterfront, and had coffee and brandy, and

  talked some more. By the time we had finished the coffee I was calling her Ginny and she

  was calling me Johnny. It seemed like we had known each other for years.

  Later we walked along the waterfront and watched the fishing-boats going out for a night’s

  fishing. She told me she had gone out in one of them the last time she was in Lincoln Beach.

  “You must go, Johnny,” she said. “Out beyond the bar the water is phosphorous. It’s like

  sailing through a sea of fire. And the fish are phosphorous, too, and when they pull in the

  nets, it’s marvellous. Let’s go, Johnny, one night. It’ll be fun, and you’ll love it.”

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  “Why, sure,” I said. “We will. Maybe you can …” I broke off as a street clock not far away

  started to chime, and I stood still, counting the chimes, and each stroke was like a bang under

  the heart with a mail-clad fist.

  Ten … eleven … twelve.

  “What’s the matter, Johnny?” she asked, looking at me.

  “Nothing. I’ve got to get back. I’ve just remembered a very important date …” That was as

  far as I could get. It came to me like a punch in the face that for the past eight hours I’d been

  living in a pipe-dream.

  “I’ll drive you back. We won’t be ten minutes.”

  We got into the car. My mouth had dried up and the back of my throat ached, and my heart

  was going like a steam-hammer. She must have guessed something was wrong, but she didn’t

  ask questions. She drove fast. We reached the casino gates in seven minutes. I knew that

  because I kept my eyes glued to the clock on the dashboard.

  I got out of the car. My knees were shaking. Reisner, Della and the lion pit were now as

  real as the warm wind against my cold, sweating face.

  “So long, and thanks,” I said, and my voice croaked. I wanted to say something else, make

  a date, let her know how wonderful I thought she was, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “Are you in trouble, Johnny?” she asked anxiously.

  “No. It’s all right. I’ll look out for you.”

  I left her sitting in the car, wide-eyed and startled, and I walked towards the gates of the

  casino.

  The guards opened them. The one with the green eyes gaped at me, and caught his breath

  sharply, but I walked on past him and headed up the long, green-lit carriageway.

  IV

  I pushed open the door of the cabin and walked in. The radio was playing muted swing, and

  every light in the room was on.

  Della was lying on the divan, a cigarette between her lips, her face as expressionless as a

  china mask, and as hard. She still had on the blue wrap, and her hands were clasped behind

  her head.

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  My eyes flickered from her to where he had been lying, but he wasn’t there, and I felt my

  heart contract.<
br />
  “Where is he?”

  “In there.” She pointed to the bathroom. “Where have you been?”

  “Killing time. Did anyone …?”

  “I told you to keep them away from here, didn’t I?” There was suppressed fury in her voice.

  “I did.”

  “They phoned three times, and Louis came rapping on the door. Do you call that keeping

  them away?”

  “I told them you weren’t to be disturbed.”

  “That was at half-past three. When you left here. What happened after that? At six o’clock

  they really began to look for him. That’s when you should have been around. Where were

  you?”

  I was more scared of her than I was of the dead body in the bathroom. I knew instinctively

  she must never find out about Ginny.

  “I got lost. I went down to the beach.” The words ran out of my mouth in a blurred stream.

  “I took the wrong turning. I got snarled up in a forest.”

  She studied me, and I couldn’t meet her eyes.

  “You tried to run away, Johnny.”

  I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say.

  “You’re lucky I told the guards to stop you. You’d be under arrest by now.”

  “I wasn’t trying to get away,” I said. “I was going for a ride. I went instead for a hell of a

  long walk, but I came back.”

  She stared at me for a moment or so, then shrugged.

  “Well, they’re still looking for him. I had to tell them he left me at six. I said I thought he

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  was going for a swim.”

  “Who’s looking for him?”

  “That fat fool Louis and Miss Doering.” She stubbed out her cigarette. “I’ve done my share

  in this. You’d better do yours. You know what to do. Be careful. They’re still out there

  searching the beach.”

  I went over to the liquor cabinet and poured myself a shot of Scotch.

  “What do I do?”

  “You take him down to the lion’s pit and you throw him in.”

  I drank the Scotch. It was like drinking water.

  “And what do you do while I’m doing it?”

  Her lips moved into a frozen smile.

  “I stay here. What do you think I’m going to do?”

  “You’d better come with me. If I ran into anyone …”

  “I’m staying here, Johnny. You haven’t been much help up to now. Go ahead and make

  yourself useful. You killed him, lover. I didn’t.”

  The thought of tackling this job alone scared the daylights out of me.

  “Now, wait a minute. You’re in this, too. You got his gun. If they’re out there looking for

  him …” I stopped, the words freezing in my mouth. A sharp rap had sounded on the door.

  I looked at her and she looked at me. Very slowly I put down the half-finished Scotch. I

  was as stiff as a statue.

  The rap came again.

  “Are you there, Mrs. Wertham? This is Hame.”

  His voice sounded sharp and impatient.

  I was so scared I couldn’t move or even think. I stood there while she slid off the divan.

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  “One moment, Captain,” she called, her voice steady and calm, but I could see by her eyes

  she was nearly as shaken as I was. “Go in there,” she breathed, pointing to the bathroom.

  “Don’t make a sound.”

  I opened the door, slid into darkness and closed the door, holding on to the handle so the

  catch wouldn’t make a noise.

  There was a five-second pause, then Hame said, “Sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Wertham.

  You’ve heard Reisner’s missing?”

  “Come in,” she said. “Hasn’t he turned up yet?”

  “No.” His heavy footfalls creaked across the carpet. “Miss Doering is worried about him.

  She phoned me so I thought I’d call up.”

  “But there’s nothing to worry about, surely?” Her voice sounded mildly amused. “I expect

  he’s over at Bay Street.”

  “He hasn’t left the grounds.”

  “Do sit down. Won’t you have a drink?”

  I stood with my head pressed against the door panels, my heart pounding, and listened.

  “I guess not.” His voice was curt. “I’m on duty.”

  “Nick’ll be very flattered when he hears you came up here because his secretary was lonely

  without him,” Della said, and laughed.

  “This may be serious. He was with you all the afternoon, I understand?”

  “Why, yes. He left at six. He said he was going for a swim.”

  “No one saw him on the beach.” There was a pause, then he asked, “Were you two talking

  business?”

  Again there was a pause. I could imagine her looking at him: he wasn’t likely to rattle her.

  “Perhaps, after all, Captain, I’d better take you into my confidence,” she said. “Please sit

  down.”

  Once again there was a lengthy pause, and I guessed there was a clash of wills going on.

  Then a chair creaked, and I knew she had got her way.

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  “And a drink, Captain. I don’t like drinking alone.”

  “Looks like you were managing all right before I showed up,” Hame said. “There’s a glass

  of Scotch on the cabinet.”

  “No wonder you have such a reputation for being a clever police officer,” she said, and

  laughed.

  “I guess I don’t miss much.”

  He sounded mollified.

  I heard her splash soda into a glass.

  Then he said, “Well, here’s how.” He grunted. “That’s pretty good Scotch. What’s this you

  were saying about taking me into your confidence?”

  “Perhaps you have wondered why Ricca and I are here,” she said. “Paul sent us. Nick’s

  been dipping into the reserve to cover his gambling losses. Ricca had orders from Paul to

  heave him out. Well, he’s gone.”

  I had to hand it to her. She was ready for any emergency. Her voice, now cool and matter-of-fact, was very convincing.

  “You don’t say.” Hame sounded startled. “Much missing?”

  “We don’t know for certain - something like ten thousand. We haven’t had time for a

  thorough check. He didn’t deny it. He could have been difficult, but as he handed over the

  keys and didn’t make trouble, I promised him twelve hours start. I didn’t anticipate that fool

  of a girl would bring you into it.”

  “So that’s it. Well I’ll be double damned.” There was a pause, then Hame said reluctantly,

  “Want me to do anything about him?”

  “No. He knows too much. He might talk.”

  “I was thinking of that. Where’s he gone?”

  “I have no idea. He must have gone by way of the beach. That’s why the guards didn’t see

  him.”

  “Must have. Funny thing, he hasn’t packed. I checked his room.”

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  I held my breath while I waited for her to talk herself out of that one.

  “He keeps a lot of stuff with Zoe. He knew this wouldn’t last and was ready to skip.”

  There was no hesitation in her voice.

  “He was no fool,” Hame said, his voice ponderous. “It’ll be odd not to have him around.”

  “It won’t make any difference to you. Ricca and I will be taking charge.”

  “Did Wertharn say it wouldn’t make any difference?”

  “He said more than that,” Della said coolly. “He left instructions about you. He said we

  should do a little more for you.”

  “Is that right? What did he mean by that?”

  There was a pause,
then she said, “We think you’re doing a good job for us, Captain. Paul

  had already spoken to Nick about you, but Nick said you were getting enough. Paul wanted to

  show his appreciation, but Nick blocked him off. Well, Nick’s gone now. We thought another

  two-fifty a week might be useful. Paul said it should be back-dated six months. I’d planned to

  pay it into your account tomorrow as a little surprise.”

  “That’s pretty nice of you,” Hame said, suddenly jovial. “I guess I could use it. I got

  expenses same as anyone. Sounds as if we’re going to get along together all right. Where’s

  Ricca?”

  Again I held my breath.

  “I have an idea he’s enjoying himself at Zoe’s place. I don’t know, but that’s my guess.

  Come up and see him tomorrow. There’ll be things to talk about.”

  “I will, Mrs. Wertham.” The chair creaked as he stood up. “Guess I won’t keep you any

  longer. Had I better have a word with Miss Doering? They’re still searching for Reisner.”

  “Perhaps you’d better. Don’t tell her what’s happened. We don’t want it talked about. You

  might say you’ve heard he’s in town. We’ll straighten things out tomorrow.”

  “I’ll do that. Well, good night. I’m looking forward to working with you two. I’m looking

  forward to it very much.”

  “And so are we, Captain.”

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  I listened to him tramp across the room.

  “I’ll be dropping in on my bank tomorrow afternoon.”

  “We’ll be there before that, Captain.” I could imagine the smile she gave him. “Good

  night.”

  The door shut.

  We waited: she out there, and I in the darkness with Reisner’s dead body somewhere

  behind me. We heard a car start up and drive away.

  She pushed open the bathroom door.

  “Well, I handled him, Johnny.”

  “Yes.” I moved out of the darkness.

  There was that cold, triumphant gleam in her eyes I had seen before.

  “Better get going,” she said. “We’re practically in the clear now. They’ll think he went to

  say good-bye to the lions and got too close. Get going, Johnny.”

  I looked over my shoulder into the dark bathroom. I didn’t want to do it, but I could think

  of no other way out. The thought of carrying him through the darkness brought me out in

  goose-pimples.

  “My car’s outside,” she said, speaking softly. “Put him in it and follow the carriageway