Just Another Sucker Read online

  ‘That doesn’t tell me anything. Where does the risk come in? I’m ready to do any job so long as I know what I am doing.’

  ‘I understand.’ She took another sip from the highball. ‘You’re not drinking, Mr. Barber.’

  ‘I know. What’s this job you want done?’

  ‘I’m a little pressed for time right now, besides this is scarcely the place to discuss a confidential proposition, is it? Could I telephone you some time? We could meet somewhere more convenient.’

  ‘I’m in the book.’

  ‘Then I’ll do that. Tomorrow perhaps. Will you be in?’

  ‘I’ll make a point of it.’

  ‘I’ll settle the check.’ She opened her purse, then she paused, frowning. ‘Oh, I was forgetting.’

  ‘I wasn’t.’

  I took the roll of money from my pocket and dropped it into her lap.

  ‘Thank you.’ She flicked the fifty off, drew a five from under it and put the five on the table, then she dropped the roll into her bag, closed it and stood up.

  I stood up too.

  ‘Then tomorrow, Mr. Barber.’

  She turned and walked out of the bar. I watched the heavy, sensual roll of her hips as she crossed the street. I went to the door and watched her walk leisurely to the car park. She got in a silver and grey Rolls Royce and she drove away, leaving me staring after her, but not so startled as to forget to memorise her car number.

  I went back to the table and sat down. My knees felt weak. I drank a little of the highball, then I lit a cigarette.

  The barman came over and collected the five-dollar bill.

  ‘Some dish,’ he said. ‘Looks loaded with dough. How did you make out with her? Did she give you a reward?’

  I stared at him for a long moment, then I got up and walked out. Just for the record, that was the last time I ever went in there. Even when I had to pass it, the sight of the place gave me a cold, sick feeling.

  Across the way was the branch office of the A.A.A. The clerk in charge was a guy I had known well while I had worked for the Herald. His name was Ed Marshall. I crossed the road and went into the office.

  Marshall was sitting at a desk, reading a magazine.

  ‘Why, for the love of Mike!’ he exclaimed, starting to his feet. ‘How are you, Harry?’

  I said I was fine and shook hands with him. I was pleased to get such a welcome: most of my so-called friends had given me the brush off when I had looked them up, but Marshall was a decent little guy: we had always got along together.

  I sat on the edge of his desk and offered him a cigarette.

  ‘I’ve given them up,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘This lung cancer has me scared. How’s it feel to be out?’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘You can get used to anything, even living out of jail.’

  We talked of this and that for ten minutes or so, then I got around to the real reason why I had called on him.

  ‘Tell me, Ed, who owns a grey and black Rolls. The number is SAX1?’

  ‘You mean Mr. Malroux’s car.’

  ‘Do I? Is that his number?’

  ‘That’s right: a honey of a car.’

  Then the nickel dropped like a chunk of lead.

  ‘You don’t mean Felix Malroux?’ I said, staring at him.

  ‘That’s him.’

  ‘You mean he lives in Palm Bay? I thought he lived in Paris.’

  ‘He bought a place here about two years ago. He came here for his health.’

  I was now aware that my heart was thumping, and I had trouble in keeping and looking calm.

  ‘We are talking about the same man? Malroux: the zinc and copper millionaire? He must be one of the richest men in the world.’

  Marshall nodded.

  ‘He is. He’s a pretty sick man from what I hear. I wouldn’t swop places with him for all his dough.’

  ‘What’s the matter with him?’

  Marshall grimaced.

  ‘He’s a lung cancer case. There’s nothing anyone can do for him.’

  I looked at my cigarette, then stubbed it out.

  ‘That’s tough. So he’s bought a place here?’

  ‘Yep. He’s bought East Shore: Ira Cranleigh’s place. He’s had it practically rebuilt. It’s a wonderful situation: own harbour, own beach, own bathing pool, own everything.’

  I well remembered Ira Cranleigh’s house. He had been a big oil operator and had built the house at the far end of the bay. He had got into a financial mess and had had to sell. The sale was being negotiated at the time of my trial. I never had heard who had bought it.

  I lit another cigarette while my brain jumped over hurdles and darted through hoops.

  ‘So the Rolls is his?’

  ‘Just one of about ten cars he owns.’

  ‘It’s a beaut. I’d like to own it myself.’

  Marshall nodded his balding head.

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Who would be the woman, driving it? I couldn’t see much of her. She was a blonde, wearing big sun goggles.’

  ‘That’d be Mrs. Malroux.’

  ‘His wife? She didn’t look old… I’d say she was around thirty-two or three. Malroux must be getting on. I seem to have been hearing about him ever since I was a kid. He must be pushing seventy or more.’

  ‘About that. He married again: some woman he fell for in Paris. I forget who she was: a movie star or something. There was quite a write up about her in the Herald.’

  ‘What happened to his first wife?’

  ‘She had a car accident about three years ago.’

  ‘So Malroux’s here for his health?’

  ‘That’s it. His wife and daughter like living in California anyway, and the climate is supposed to be good for his health. That’s the way the quacks talk: from what I hear, nothing now will be any good for him.’

  ‘So he has a daughter?’

  Marshall flicked his thumb, then stuck it in the air.

  ‘He certainly has. From the first marriage: she’s only a kid: eighteen, but some chicken.’ He winked at me. ‘I’d rather have her than the Rolls.’

  ‘Hey! Hey! I thought you were a respectably married man.’

  ‘So I am, but you want to see Odette Malroux. She’d make a corpse have wicked thoughts.’

  ‘So long as you keep it to thoughts,’ I said and slid off the desk. ‘I’d better get moving. I’m late as it is.’ ‘What’s the interest in Malroux, Harry?’

  ‘You know me: I saw the car and the woman. I was just curious.’

  I could see I hadn’t convinced him, but he didn’t press it.

  ‘If you happen to want a temporary job, Harry,’ he said awkwardly, ‘we’re hiring guys to take a traffic count, starting from tomorrow. It pays fifty a week and lasts ten days. Any good to you?’

  I didn’t hesitate one second.

  ‘That’s nice of you, Ed, but I’ve got something lined up.’ I grinned at him. ‘Thanks all the same.’

  In the bus, on the way home, I turned over in my mind the information I had got from Marshall. It excited me.

  The wife of one of the richest men in the world had a job for me. I had no doubt about it. She would telephone tomorrow. An element of risk, she had said. Well, okay, I was willing to take risks if the money was big enough, and it would be.

  As the bus carried me along the beach road, I whistled under my breath.

  This was the first time since I had gone to jail that I had felt like whistling.

  Life was coming alive again.

  II

  Soon after nine o’clock the following morning, I went down to the offices of the Herald.

  Nina had told me that she had some pots to deliver and she wouldn’t be back until midday. This suited me. If Malroux’s wife did telephone, I would have the place to myself. I certainly wasn’t telling Nina what had happened until I knew what the job was going to be.

  I walked into the reference room of the Herald’s offices. There were two girls in charge. I had never
seen them before, and they didn’t know me. I asked one of them to let me have the back files of the Herald from January, two years back.

  It didn’t take me long to dig out the information I was looking for. I learned that Felix Malroux had married Rhea Passary five months after the death of his first wife. Rhea Passary had been a show girl at the Lido, Paris. After a whirlwind courtship that lasted scarcely a week, Malroux proposed and she accepted him. It was pretty obvious she wasn’t accepting him, but his money.

  I returned home and sat down to wait. Exactly at eleven o’clock the telephone bell rang. I knew it was her before I lifted the receiver. My heart was beating fast and my hand as I reached for the receiver, was shaking.

  ‘Mr. Barber?’

  There was no mistaking that clear, hard voice.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘We met yesterday.’

  I decided this was the time to slip in a fast one.

  ‘Why, sure, Mrs. Malroux, at Joe’s bar.’

  It was a good one. There was a pause. I wasn’t sure but I thought I heard her catch her breath sharply, but it could have been imagination.

  ‘Do you know East Beach where the bathing cabins are?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I want you to hire a cabin: the last cabin on the left. I meet you there at nine o’clock tonight.’

  ‘I’ll hire the cabin, and I’ll be there,’ I said.

  There was a pause while I listened to her breathing, then she said, ‘Tonight then at nine,’ and she cut the connection.

  I replaced the receiver and lit a cigarette. I was excited. The situation intrigued me. An element of risk. It would be interesting to learn what she wanted. Maybe she was in some kind of jam — blackmail.

  Maybe she wanted me to help her get rid of an unwanted lover. I shrugged. It was no use speculating.

  I looked at my wrist watch. The time was ten minutes past eleven. I would have time to take a bus out to East Beach, book the cabin and get back before Nina returned.

  I went out there. The man in charge of the cabins was Bill Holden: a large muscular hunk of meat who was a life-saver as well as the cabin attendant.

  The cabins at East Beach were the luxury kind. You could sleep there if you wanted to. They stood in a long row, facing the sea, and I could see at this hour most of them were occupied.

  Holden knew me, and when he saw me, he grinned.

  ‘Hello, Mr. Barber, glad to see you again.’

  ‘Thanks.’ I shook hands with him. ‘I want to hire a cabin. The last one on the left. I’ll need it tonight at nine. Can you fix it?’

  ‘We shut at eight, Mr. Barber,’ he said. ‘There won’t be anyone here, but you can have it. I’ve got no all-night customers this week so I’m not staying on. Okay?’

  ‘That’s all right. Leave the key under the mat. I’ll settle with you tomorrow.’

  ‘Anything you say, Mr. Barber.’

  I looked along the crowded beach. The sand was covered with near naked bodies.

  ‘Looks as if you’re doing all right,’ I said.

  ‘I survive, although the season’s not what it should be. The all-night let is a flop. If it doesn’t pick up soon, I’m going to drop the idea. No point hanging around here after eight if I’ve got no customers. Are you doing all right, Mr. Barber?’

  ‘I’m not grumbling. Well, I’ll be along tonight. See you in the morning.’

  On my way back home, I puzzled my brains to know what to tell Nina. I had to give her a reason why I would be out this night. Finally, I decided to tell her I was working for Ed Marshall, doing night work, counting cars in the A.A.A. traffic check up.

  When I did tell her, I felt a bit of a heel to see how pleased she was.

  ‘I might as well pick up fifty a week,’ I said, ‘as sit around here doing nothing.’

  At half past eight that evening, I left the bungalow and went around to the garage. We owned an ancient Packard that was pretty well on its last legs. As I coaxed the engine to start, I told myself if this job paid off, the first thing I’d do would be to buy a new car.

  I reached East Beach at three minutes to nine o’clock. It was deserted. I found the key of the cabin under the mat and I unlocked the door.

  There was a lounging room, a bedroom, a shower room and a kitchenette. The cabin was air conditioned. It had a TV and radio set, a telephone and a bar. There was even a bottle of whisky and charge water on one of the shelves behind the bar. It was all very lush and plush.

  I turned the air-conditioner off and opened the windows and the door. I sat on the veranda in one of the cane lounging chairs.

  It was lonely and quiet. The only sound came from the gentle movement of the sea. I was pretty tense, wondering what this woman wanted me to do, wondering too how much she was willing to pay for what she wanted done.

  I waited for twenty-five minutes. Then just as I was beginning to think she wasn’t coming, she materialised out of the darkness. I didn’t see her arrive. I was sitting there, just about to light a third cigarette, when I saw a movement. I looked up, and there she was: standing quite close to me.

  ‘Good evening, Mr. Barber,’ she said, and before I could move, she sat down in a lounging chair close to mine.

  I could see little of her. She had a silk scarf over her head that partially concealed her face. She was wearing a dark red summer dress. Around her right wrist was a heavy gold bracelet.

  ‘I know quite a lot about you,’ she said. ‘A man who will turn down a ten thousand dollar bribe and refuse to work with gangsters must have a nerve. I’m looking for a man with nerve.’

  I didn’t say anything.

  She lit a cigarette. I was aware she was staring at me. She was sitting in the shadows. I would have liked to have been able to see the expression in her eyes.

  ‘You take risks, don’t you, Mr. Barber?’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘When you took my money, you risked going to jail for at least six years.’

  ‘I was drunk.’

  ‘Are you willing to take a risk?’

  ‘It depends on the money,’ I said. ‘I want money. I don’t make any bones about it. I want it, I need it, and I’m willing to earn it, but it has to be money, not chick feed.’

  ‘If you’ll do what I want you to do, I will pay you fifty thousand dollars.’

  It was like taking a hard punch under the heart.

  ‘Fifty thousand. Did you say fifty thousand dollars?’

  ‘Yes. It’s a lot of money, isn’t it? I’ll pay you that if you will do what I want you to do.’

  I drew in a long slow breath.

  Fifty thousand dollars! My heart began to thump at the thought of so much money.

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘You sound interested, Mr. Barber. Would you take risks for such a sum?’

  ‘I’d take a lot of risk.’

  I was thinking what I could do with all that money. Nina and I could leave Palm City. We could start a new life together.

  ‘Before we go any further, Mr. Barber,’ she said, ‘it’s only fair to tell you I haven’t any money except the allowance my husband makes me. My husband believes that his daughter and I should be able to manage on the allowance he provides. I admit they are generous allowances for reasonable people, but it so happens neither my stepdaughter nor I are reasonable people.’

  ‘If you haven’t the money, why offer me fifty thousand dollars?’ I said impatiently.

  ‘I can show you how you can make it.’

  I stared at her and she stared at me.

  ‘Tell me — how do I make it?’

  ‘My stepdaughter and I need four hundred and fifty thousand dollars. We must have this money within two weeks. I am hoping you will help us get it, and if you do, you will be paid fifty thousand dollars.’

  I studied her and decided she wasn’t crazy. On the contrary, I had never seen a woman who looked more sane.

  ‘But how do I do it?’ I asked.

  But sh
e wasn’t to be hurried.

  ‘Of course my husband could provide the money without any difficulty,’ she said. ‘Naturally, he would want to know why we wanted such a sum, and that is something neither of us can tell him.’ She paused to tap ash off her cigarette. ‘But with your help, we could get the money from my husband without having to answer awkward questions.’

  My first surge of excitement was waning. This sounded like a confidence trick. I was now very alert.

  ‘Why do you want all this money?’ I asked.

  ‘You were clever to find out who I am.’

  ‘An idiot child could have found that out. If you want to remain anonymous, don’t drive that Rolls.

  Are you being blackmailed?’

  ‘That doesn’t concern you. I have an idea to get this money, but I need your help, and I’m willing to pay you fifty thousand dollars.’

  ‘Which you don’t have.’

  ‘But with your help, I shall have.’

  I was liking this less and less.

  ‘Let’s get to the point. What is this idea of yours?’

  ‘My stepdaughter is going to be kidnapped,’ she told me coolly. ‘The ransom money will be five hundred thousand dollars. You will get ten per cent of that. My stepdaughter and I divide what is left.’

  ‘Who will do the kidnapping?’

  ‘Why, no one. Odette will go away somewhere, and you will make the ransom demand. That is why I need your help. You will be the threatening voice on the telephone. It is simple enough, but it will have to be well done. For making the telephone call, and for collecting the ransom, I am offering you fifty thousand dollars.’

  Well, the cat was out of the bag now. I felt my mouth turn dry.

  Kidnapping was a capital offence. If I was going to touch this job, I would have to be more than careful. A kidnapper went to the gas chamber if he was caught.

  This idea of hers could be as dangerous as murder — it carried the death sentence.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I

  A small dark cloud drifted across the face of the moon. For the space of a minute or so, the sea looked suddenly cold and the beach dark and uninviting, then the cloud passed, and once more there was silver on the water and brightness on the beach.