No Business Of Mine Page 20

  “What do you want?” I asked, leaning against the door.

  Julius Cole looked around the room, peered out of the window.

  “How nice,” he said, his hands in his baggy trouser pockets. The

  grey suit he wore was shiny at the elbows, even on the back of the

  coat he had managed to collect grease spots. His bottle- green shirt

  was frayed at the cuffs; his white tie was grubby. “I’ve often wanted

  to see the Savoy from the inside. I had no idea they did you as well as

  this. The view alone must be worth the money.” He gave me an arch

  look. “What do they charge for a room like this?”

  “Suppose you tell me what you want,” I said. “And then I’l call

  Corridan. He wants to see you.”

  He sat on the window seat, raised his eyebrows.

  “I know,” he said. “But you won’t call Corridan.”

  I wondered if it might be a sound idea to hit him in the left eye,

  but resisted the temptation. I sat down.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Something’s crawling about in the thing you

  call your mind. What is it?”

  He took a crumpled packet of cigarettes from his pocket, lit one.

  Smoke drifted down his narrow nostrils.

  “I want to borrow a little money,” he said.

  “I won’t stop you,” I returned briefly, “but you’re in the wrong

  room. Try the desk. They might trust you. I don’t.”

  He giggled. “I don’t suppose you’d think it to look at me, baby,” he

  said softly, “but one of my side-lines is blackmail. I’m here to

  blackmail you.” He giggled again.

  “What makes you think I’d be a good subject to blackmail?” I

  asked, suddenly wary.

  “No one’s a good subject to blackmail,” he returned, pouting.

  “Sometimes I wonder if the game is worth the risk.” He fingered his

  tie with slender, grubby fingers. His finger-nails were black crescents.

  “It’s a big risk, you know. I have to be very careful how I select my

  victim. Even then I have made mistakes.”

  “Chalk this up as your biggest mistake yet,” I said grimly. “I don’t

  believe in blackmail; never did.”

  He stroked his clipped hair, smiled. “But then no one ever does,

  baby,” he pointed out. “It depends entirely on the force of

  circumstances. In your case, I don’t see how you can help yourself.”

  “By ramming my foot into your fat carcass,” I said, eyeing him

  with distaste.

  He flicked ash on to the carpet, shook his head. “So many people

  have wanted to do that. I’ve always taken care to convince them it

  wouldn’t pay.”

  “Tell me,” I said.

  “I heard what you and Corridan said to each other,” he said,

  giggled. “I was listening outside the door. I could get you hanged.

  That’s not bad, is it?”

  “I don’t think you could,” l said, shaken.

  “Don’t be obstinate, baby,” he pleaded. “I wouldn’t risk coming to

  London, coming here, unless I was sure it’d pay dividends. It was my

  luck that I heard what Corridan said. He wants me and he suspects I

  saw what happened in Madge Kennitt’s flat. Well, I wouldn’t

  disappoint him. I’d tell him.”

  “You saw nothing,” I said.

  “I know, but he doesn’t know. I’ll tell him you were in love with

  Netta. That Madge told you Netta and Peter French murdered Anne.

  You didn’t want Madge to tel the police, so you tried to bribe her. She

  wouldn’t play, and you lost your head and killed her. I saw you do it.”

  I drummed with my fingers on the chair arm. “You didn’t, Cole,” I

  said. “And you know it.”

  He nodded. “Of course I didn’t, but that doesn’t matter. Corridan

  expects me to say something like that and I will if you force me to.”

  “They’ll want to know why you didn’t tell them before,” I said.

  “Of course, I shall get into trouble, but then I don’t anticipate it’ll

  come to that. I was also watching you when you went to Selma

  Jacobi’s flat. I saw Littlejohns enter after you had arrived, but I didn’t

  see him come out.”

  “You get around, don’t you?” I said.

  “I’ve never even seen Selma’s place, but I can tell Corridan that,

  can’t I? He wants to get someone for these murders, and he’ll jump at

  my evidence.”

  I knew Corridan would.

  There was a long pause, then I said, “Corridan wouldn’t be so

  pleased to learn you made a monkey out of him when you identified

  Anne as Netta. He’d give you a stretch for that.”

  Cole smirked. “Yes, baby,” he said; “I’ve taken that into account

  too. But they’d stretch your neck, so I’m not really anticipating

  trouble. I don’t think I shall have to go to Corridan because you’ll pay

  me to keep quiet.”

  I lit a cigarette, smoked for a moment, thinking.

  “You see, there’s Netta to be considered too,” Cole said in his soft,

  lisping voice. “She’ll get into trouble too. Corridan will bring a murder

  charge against her. He’s a hard man.” He removed a hair from his coat

  and put it on the window seat with exaggerated care. “You must

  admit I have a strong hand. But you needn’t worry. I’m not asking for

  much. I’m always modest in my demands. What do you say to a single

  payment of five hundred pounds? That’s reasonable, isn’t it?”

  “But you’ll be back in a week or so for more. I know the kind of

  louse you are.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t call me names, baby. It’s not kind. I

  don’t do business that way. Give me five hundred pounds, and you’re

  free to leave the country as soon as you like. Five hundred pounds

  would keep me going for a long time. I’m not extravagant, baby. I

  have simple tastes.”

  “I’d like a little time to think this over,” I said. “Suppose you come

  back this afternoon?”

  “What’s there to think about?” he asked, wagging his head from

  side to side.

  “It’s just that I have to get used to the idea of being blackmailed,”

  I returned, wanting to sink my fist in his fat, flabby face. “I also want

  to think of a way to get out of this. Right now, I don’t see a way.”

  Cole giggled. “There isn’t one, baby,” he said. “Corridan would

  love to get his hooks into you. Besides, what’s five hundred pounds to

  you? It’s nothing.” His grey-green eyes wandered around the room.

  “You’re used to the good things of life. You wouldn’t like to spend

  weeks in a cell. That’s what it’d mean, even if they didn’t prove you

  guilty: Weeks in a cell.”

  “You’re quite a salesman,” I said, getting to my feet. “Come back

  at three-thirty this afternoon. I’ll either tell you to go to hell or I’ll

  have the dough for you.”

  Cole shifted his fat carcass out of my reach. “All right, baby,” he

  said, watching me. “Have the money in pound notes.” He looked once

  more around the room, wagged his head. “It’s nice. I might even book

  a room here. It’d make a change after that beastly flat of mine.”

  “I shouldn’t,” I said. “Not in that suit, anyway. They’re fussy here.�
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  A faint flush stained his pasty face. “That’s not kind, baby,” he

  said.

  I watched him go, the frame and build of a truck-driver,

  sauntering along softly, insolently, like a dancer.

  When he had rounded the bend in the corridor, I returned to my

  room, poured out a stiff shot of whisky, sat down by the window.

  Things were breaking a little too fast for me. I was being crowded. If I

  was going to solve this puzzle outside a cell, I’d have to move fast.

  I thought for a few seconds, finished my drink, decided I’d have to

  see Netta. I jumped up, grabbed my hat, made for the door.

  The telephone rang.

  I hesitated, picked up the receiver.

  “Harmas?”

  I recognized Bradley’s voice, wondered what he wanted.

  “How are your front teeth, Bradley?” I asked. “I’m still

  undertaking painful extractions. If you have any left, let me know. I’ll

  fix it for you.”

  I expected him to blow his top, but he didn’t. He sounded almost

  mild.

  “All right, Harmas,” he said. “Never mind that stuff. We’re quits

  now. I gave you a bad time, you gave me one. Let’s forget it.” I could

  scarcely believe my ears.

  “So what,” I asked.

  “But I want my rings back. Harmas. They’re worth two thousand

  pounds. Maybe you did take them for a joke. I’m not saying you stole

  them, but I want them back.”

  That was reasonable enough, I thought, but how was I going to

  give them back?

  “Corridan’s got them,” I said. “You’d better ask him for them.”

  “I’m not interested in who’s got them,” he snapped. “I’m only

  interested in getting them back. You took them. You return them.”

  I wondered if Corridan would part, doubted it. I began to sweat.

  “But I can’t get them back without being arrested,” I returned.

  “Suppose you ring Corridan, tell him I took them for a joke, and ask

  him to return them to you. He’ll try to persuade you to file a charge

  against me, but you needn’t do that. That’s the only way to get ‘em

  back.”

  “If you don’t deliver those rings by four o’clock this afternoon, I’ll

  file a charge against you and I’ll see it damn well sticks,” Bradley

  snarled, hung up.

  I brooded for a moment, rang Whitehall 1212. Someone told me

  Corridan was out of town, wouldn’t be back until late. I thanked him,

  put the receiver on its cradle, scowled.

  “Oh, the hell with it,” I said.

  I hurried to the elevator, rode down to the ground level, took a

  taxi to Cromwell Road.

  I entered Mrs. Crockett’s house, mounted the stairs to the first

  floor, stood for a moment listening. I heard nothing to alarm me,

  crossed to Madge Kennitt’s door, rapped.

  I called, “This is Steve, honey.”

  The door opened immediately. Netta stared at me, her eyes

  opening wide. I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see Julius Cole

  watching me. He wasn’t. I stepped into the room, closed the door.

  Netta was wearing a suit of almost transparent pyjamas. She

  looked cute, and if I hadn’t so much on my mind she’d have given me

  a buzz. As it was I said sharply, “Put on some camouflage, kid. For

  interesting places a tourist map has nothing on you.”

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, grabbing a silk wrap, putting it

  on. “Why have you come? Is something wrong?”

  “Plenty,” I said, sitting on the arm of a chair. “Things are moving.

  They’re moving too damn fast for me, and I thought I’d better have a

  word with you.”

  She sat down on the chaise-longue. I thought of Madge Kennitt

  and the way she had looked, lying there with her throat cut.

  “Don’t sit there,” I said sharply. “That’s where she was found.”

  “Pull yourself together, Steve,” Netta said, not moving. Her eves

  had hardened, were watchful. “You’re not losing your nerve, are

  you?”

  “Hell, no,” I said. “Okay, sit there if you want to.” I stared at her

  for a moment. “There’s nothing wrong with your nerve, is there,

  Netta?”

  She shook her head. “Not so long as you’re with me. What’s

  wrong, Steve?”

  I told her how Corridan and Cole had visited me and what they

  had said. I told her about Bradley’s phone call, too.

  She listened without interrupting.

  “Well, that’s the set-up,” I concluded. “How do you like it?”

  “There’s only one way out of this,” she said, after a moment’s

  thought. “We’ve both got to get out of the country. Even if they don’t

  pin the murders on to you, you’ll be in jail for weeks. Then what shal I

  do?”

  “Yeah, I’ve thought of that,” I said. “But if I run away I’m telling

  Corridan I’m guilty.”

  She jumped to her feet, ran over to me.

  “Steve! Can’t you see? You’ve got to get out while the going’s

  good. You can write to Corridan when you get to America. You can tell

  him the whole story; but if you wait now, we’ll never get away. French

  will catch up with me. You’ve got to save me and yourself.”

  I put my hand on her hip. Under the thin silk it felt nice. I

  remembered our more intimate days, patted her flank.

  “All right,” I said. “We’ll get out while the going’s good, and I’ll

  give Corridan the works from a safe distance. Now, I suppose I’d

  better try to fix a plane.”

  “Let’s go to-night,” Netta said, gripping my arm. “Do you think we

  could get off to-night?”

  “If we don’t, we’ll never get off,” I returned. “Once they know I’m

  on the run, they’l watch every airport.” I pulled her a little closer to

  me. “Bradley worries me. I might be able to handle Cole, but Bradley

  has a real grievance. Where did you get those rings from, Netta?”

  “I didn’t give him the rings.”

  “He said you did. He said he bought them off you for three

  hundred pounds.”

  She shook her head. “Of course not. I’ve told you what happened.

  I went to him, told him the truth, asked him for some money. He gave

  me two hundred pounds. He told you that yarn about the rings to

  shield me. I remember he always had a lot of jewellery in his office.”

  I snapped my fingers. “My God! I’ve been a sucker. I should have

  guessed he was lying. What a mug I was to have taken the rings. He

  can get me three months for that. It’s robbery with violence.”

  “But he won’t get you three months because you won’t be here,”

  Netta said. “How soon can you fix that plane?”

  “Right now,” I said, going over to the telephone. I dial ed a

  number, waited. “Is that you, Bix?” I asked, when a man’s voice came

  on the line.

  The voice said, “Sure!”

  “This is Steve Harmas. I’m coming to see you. This is important.

  When’s your next trip?”

  “Why, hello, Steve,” he said. “Glad to hear from you again. What’s

  the excitement?”

  “I’ll tell you when we meet. When’s your next trip?”

 
“Twenty-two-thirty hours to-night,” he returned. “Want to come

  with me.”

  “You bet I want to come,” I said. “I’ll be right over.” I hung up,

  turned.

  “Cross your fingers, kid,” I said. “Maybe I’ll be able to persuade

  him to take us. Get packed, and be ready for me at nine o’clock. “

  She grabbed hold of me. “You’re wonderful, Steve,” she cried, her

  eyes bright with excitement.

  “Sure, I’m wonderful,” I said, feeling like a heel, “but save the

  celebration until we’re over the Atlantic.”

  I let her kiss me, but I didn’t kiss her in return. It’d have been too

  much like the touch of Judas.

  Chapter XXII

  BY three-twenty I had completed my arrangements for the

  evening, and had returned to my room at the Savoy to await Julius

  Cole.

  Since leaving Netta, I had seen Harry Bix, explained what I wanted

  him to do. Intrigued by the story I had to tell, he had immediately

  agreed to co-operate. I had then taken a taxi to the offices of the

  Morning Mail, and had spent an hour with Fred Ullman. Acting on the

  suggestions I had made the night before, Ullman had been working

  like a beaver, and had collected a mass of information which had to

  be acted upon promptly.

  Corridan was down at Lakeham, and, although I made efforts to

  get into touch with him, was temporarily out of the picture. I knew

  he’d return by evening, but by then, I had to complete my case or fail

  altogether. In a way I was glad he wasn’t around. His absence gave me

  a clear field and I took every advantage of it. When he did get back, he

  would find I had solved the Allenby case, and he was going to get the

  shock of his life.

  But in the meantime, I had to have the co-operation of the police.

  During my previous stay in London, I had been friendly with Detective-

  Inspector O’Malley of Bow Street Police Station. Corridan had

  introduced us, and O’Malley had been delighted to show me the

  workings of the magistrate’s court. I decided I’d enlist his aid, and

  called on him. When I explained the reason of r n’ call, produced my

  evidence, he had insisted on taking me to meet Corridan’s chief at

  Scotland Yard. It was decided that immediate action should be taken.

  Now back in my room at the Savoy, I relaxed, confident that if my

  plans worked out the way I hoped, by nightfall the Allenby case and