Whiff of Money Read online

  ‘That’s what I need. Have one with me.’

  I won’t say no.’ The barman made two drinks with a lot of unnecessary flourishes. ‘First one today.’

  He placed one of the glasses before Girland and lifted the other.

  ‘Sante.’

  They drank, then Girland asked casually, ‘Are you Jack Dodge?’

  The barman lifted a sandy eyebrow.

  ‘That’s me. Can’t say I’ve seen you before. I have a good memory for faces.’

  "That’s good news. I want you to remember a girl’

  I get a lot of girls in here. I won’t swear I can remember them all. It’s the men I concentrate on.’ He grinned slyly. ‘They pick up the tab.’

  I understand. Well, never mind about the girl for the moment. Are you still happy working for Pierre Rosnold?’ Girland asked, his dark eyes on Dodge’s face.

  If he had leaned across the bar and punched Dodge in the eye, he wouldn’t have got a bigger reaction.

  Dodge reared back. His close-set eyes went blank with shock. The blood moved out of his face leaving his skin blotchy under the sun lamp complexion, but he recovered quickly. For a brief moment, when Girland could almost hear his brain creaking, he stood motionless, then pulling himself together, he eyed Girland with sudden suspicion.

  I don’t know him,’ he said. ‘Excuse me. I’ve things to do.’

  ‘Don’t be so obvious,’ Girland said. ‘You have nothing to do except talk to me. I know what your side-line is, but that doesn’t mean I’ll make trouble for you. How would you like to pick up an easy hundred bucks?’

  ‘I told you, sir, I have things to do.’ Dodge began to move away down the bar.

  ‘If you don’t want my money, I can always call Inspector Dupuis of the vice squad and turn you in. Please yourself.’

  Dodge hesitated, then glared at Girland. ‘Just who the hell are you?’

  ‘Look on me as your pal,’ Girland said and smiled. He took ten ten-dollar bills from his wallet. These he had got by cashing some of his traveller’s cheques at the American Express on his way to the bar. ‘All yours, buddy, for a little information which won’t go further. Don’t look so anxious. I’m not after you. I want to find a girl who went through a performance with you before Rosnold’s camera.’

  Dodge eyed the money, licked his full lips, took a drink, then looked at the money again.

  ‘You mean that’s for me?’

  ‘That’s right. No strings to it… just information.’ Dodge hesitated, but the power of money was too much for him. He finished his drink, then made another while his brain creaked.

  ‘What do you want to know?’ he asked finally. T came across an 8 mm movie,’ Girland said. ‘It is labelled "A Souvenir from Paris". It shows you, wearing a hood, performing with a dark-haired girl. Three other films were shot, probably at the same time. Mean anything to you?’

  Dodge again looked at the money. ‘You really mean that’s for me?’ Girland pushed five ten dollar bills across the counter. ‘You get the rest when you talk,’ he said. Dodge snapped up the bills and stowed them away in bis hip pocket.

  ‘This is strictly confidential.’

  ‘You are right out of it,’ Girland promised. ‘What do you know about this movie?’

  ‘Well, Rosnold called me. This was to be a special job. Okay, I make these movies. It’s business and pleasure. I do a job for Rosnold two or three times a week. Last month, he called me. I went to the studio and there was this girl. I’ve never seen her before… a new one.’ He thought for a moment. The memory seemed to please him because his face broke into a sensual leer. ‘Very good… an amateur, you understand, but good.’

  ‘ Did you get her name?’

  Dodge shook his head.

  ‘No. Rosnold called her Cherie, but I did get she and he were buddy-buddies. We made four films. Rosnold paid me $50 a film.’ Again the leer. ‘It was a pleasure.’

  ‘Let’s do better than that,’ Girland said. ‘What makes you think Rosnold and the girl were buddies?’

  ‘The way they behaved… the way they talked. I could tell. I guess Rosnold digs for her.’

  ‘Yet Rosnold took the shots while you were working on her?’

  ‘That’s nothing… that’s business. I’ve worked with wives while their husbands took the shots. When you make a stag, it’s strictly business. Besides, I got the idea the girl was stoned.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Well, you know… L.S.D. She was higher than a kite and as hot as a stove.’

  ‘You think she had taken L.S.D.?’

  ‘I’m damn sure she had.’

  Girland grimaced.

  ‘What did they talk about… did you hear anything?’

  ‘Well… I had to rest between the shootings.’ The leer irritated Girland. ‘While I was building myself up, they got in a huddle. They were planning to go to Garmisch together as soon as the shooting was processed.’

  ‘What do you know about Rosnold?’

  Dodge shrugged.

  ‘He’s one of the bright boys. When he isn’t making movies or photographing the snobs, he organises a group of nuts who call themselves Ban War. He tried to get me to join the organisation but it didn’t interest me. How the hell can you ban war anyway? It’s like bashing your nut against a wall. Anyway, he makes a good thing out of it. Every sucker who joins pays ten francs and the money goes into Rosnold’s pocket.’

  The door swung open and four American tourists, each with a camera slung around his neck, came into the bar, shattering the quiet atmosphere as they climbed thirstily onto stools away from Girland.

  I see you’re getting busy,’ Girland said. He slid the other dollar bills over to Dodge. ‘Forget you’ve seen me,’ and he walked out onto the street.

  It now looked as if his next stop would be Garmisch, but first he wanted more information. He headed back to the American Embassy.

  Four

  His hands clammy, his heart thumping, Henry Sherman handed his false passport to the blue-uniformed official at Orly airport. The man glanced at the photograph, glanced at Sherman, nodded, stamped the passport and returned it with a brief ‘Merci, monsieur.’

  Sherman walked through the barrier, consulted the index board and found his flight left from Gate 10. He glanced at his watch. He had twenty-five minutes before take-off. Nice, easy time, he thought as he walked down the long aisle towards Gate 10. He paused at the bookstall to buy the New York Times and a couple of paperbacks, then as he was starting on his way again, there was an announcment over the tannoy.

  ‘There will be a one hour delay on Flight AF 025 to New York. Will passengers for New York please go to the reception centre? They will be informed when to proceed to Gate 10.’

  Sherman flinched. This could be dangerous. The longer he remained at the airport, the greater the chances were of his being recognised.

  ‘Tiresome, isn’t it? Especially for you,’ a quiet voice said at his side.

  Sherman started and swung around, then stiffened as he stared at the short, squat man who had come up silently and was now standing before him.

  This man had hooded eyes, a thick hooked nose and the deeply tanned complexion of a man who travels a lot in the sun.

  He wore a black slouch hat and a dark English tweed suit, impeccably cut. Over his arm, he carried a light-weight black cashmere overcoat. A large diamond glittered in his tie. Another large diamond set in a heavy gold ring, glittered on his thick, little finger. His shirt, the handkerchief in his top pocket, his lizard skin black shoes were immaculate. He exuded power, money and luxury as he might well do for that squat man was Herman Radnitz, internationally known as one of the richest men in the world whose thick ringers spread like the tentacles of an octopus over the whole of the financial globe; a deadly spider sitting in the middle of his web moving bankers, statesmen and even minor kings as a chess player moves his pawns.

  Radnitz was the last man on earth Sherman expected or wanted to see. He k
new immediately that Radnitz was far too astute not to have recognised him. There was no question of attempting a bluff.

  ‘We mustn’t be seen talking together,’ Sherman said hurriedly. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘Yet we will talk,’ Radnitz said in his guttural voice. ‘The door marked A.’ He pointed. ‘Go in there, I will join you.’

  I am sorry, Radnitz, I…’

  ‘You have no alternative,’ Radnitz said. He paused, his hooded eyes were little pools of ice water as he stared up at Sherman, ‘Or do you imagine you have?’

  The threat was unmistakable. Sherman only hesitated for a brief moment, then he nodded and walked away, his heart now hammering, his breathing uneven. He reached the door marked A, opened it and stepped into a luxuriously furnished waiting-room — a room, he guessed, reserved for V.I.Ps.

  A few seconds later, Radnitz joined him. He closed the door and turned the key.

  ‘May I ask what you are doing here, Sherman?’ he asked with deadly politeness. ‘You are travelling on a false passport and wearing a ridiculous false moustache. Are you mentally ill?’

  Sherman drew himself up to his full imposing height. Although he was frightened of Radnitz, he was determined to retain his dignity. After all, he reminded himself, he was the future President of the United States. This squat German must remember this.

  I don’t know what you mean! I’m perfectly well. If you are all that interested, I had to come here on urgent and private business. It was so urgent I had to resort to this — this subterfuge.’

  Radnitz sat down in a big lounging chair. He took a seal-skin cigar case from his pocket, selected a cigar, nipped off the end of it with a gold cutter, then slowly and deliberately lit it. It was only when he was satisfied that the cigar was burning evenly that he again looked at Sherman who was now sitting on the arm of a chair opposite him, wiping his sweating face nervously with his handkerchief.

  ‘Sufficiently urgent and sufficiently private for you to endanger your election as President of the United States?’ Radnitz asked softly.

  I can’t discuss this with you!’ Sherman’s voice was sharp. ‘I wouldn’t be here unless it was vitally urgent.’

  ‘My dear Sherman, I think you must be forgetting our bargain.’ Radnitz’s face was now a cold, forbidding mask, ‘May I remind you that the money that is making it possible for you to become the President of the United States amounts to $35,000,000. May I also remind you that the money that is making this possible is half mine… that I have put up half this sum from my own personal funds.’ He leaned forward, his eyes suddenly alight with a contained, but burning rage.

  ‘Do you imagine I will tolerate stupid behaviour from any man who owes me such a sum? Stupid behaviour? That is putting it mildly. You have been reckless and I consider the risk you have taken coming here disgraceful! If someone recognises you… some cheap hack of a newspaper man… anyone… your chances of becoming President are completely and utterly damned and my money will be lost. I promised you that I would make you President. In turn, you promised me the Arcadia Dam contract. Now here you are in this ridiculous disguise… here in Paris.’

  Sherman squirmed uneasily. It was true that he and Radnitz had made a bargain. Radnitz wanted the contract to build the Arcadia Dam… the biggest and most expensive project on the agenda of the coming term which would cost the nation $500,000,000. Sherman had agreed that Radnitz should not only get the contract if he (Sherman) became President, but would receive five per cent of the total cost for his fee. Sherman knew that if it wasn’t for Radnitz’s enormous political influence and his fantastic wealth, he would not have been nominated for the Presidency in spite of his own personal wealth. So they had made the bargain.

  Sherman fell back on his charm that had won over so many of his opponents, but in this small, luxury room, he realised that his charm didn’t make much impact.

  He forced a smile as he said, ‘Now, Radnitz, there is no need for you to worry. You wouldn’t have known of this visit of mine but for this chance meeting… no one else does.’

  ‘Chance? You say I wouldn’t have known?’ the guttural voice grated on Sherman’s ears. ‘I knew when you left New York. I knew you were in Paris. I know you have met Dorey of the CIA. That is why I am here — two hours ahead of my flight to Rabut. I am here because I want to know why you have taken this irresponsible risk. I demand to know!’

  Sherman stared at him, shrinking a little under the glaring rage that burned from the small, venomous eyes.

  ‘You knew?’ Sherman felt blood leaving his face. ‘I don’t believe it! How could you know?’

  Radnitz made a savage, impatient movement with his hand.

  ‘You are an important investment, Sherman. I have agents who are well paid to keep me informed about all my investments… especially you. I am asking you why you are here.’

  Sherman licked his dry lips.

  ‘This is a private matter. It is nothing to do with you. I can’t discuss it.’

  Radnitz drew on his cigar. His hooded eyes never left Sherman’s sweating face.

  ‘Why did you go to Dorey and not to me?’

  Sherman hesitated, then he said with an effort. ‘Dorey was my only hope for help. He and I have been friends for a long time… I mean real friends.’

  Radnitz’s thin lips curved into a pitying smile.

  ‘So you don’t consider me as a friend?’

  Sherman looked directly at him, then slowly shook his head.

  ‘No… I look on you as a powerful associate, but not as my friend.’

  ‘So you have put your trust in a fool like Dorey?’ Radnitz touched the ash off his cigar and it dropped onto the thick, green carpet. ‘You begin to worry me. I am now wondering if you have the personality, the authority and the necessary leadership to make for a great President.’ He leaned forward. ‘Don’t you realise that if you are in urgent, personal trouble, you don’t go to friends? You come to people like myself who has an investment in you and who knows how to handle any kind of trouble. So tell me… what is this personal and urgent trouble of yours?’

  ‘Dorey is no fool!’ Sherman exclaimed. ‘He is handling this and I am satisfied he will produce results!’

  ‘I asked you: what is this personal and urgent trouble? I have a right to know.’

  Sherman thought rapidly. Perhaps he had been irresponsible in rushing off to Paris to consult Dorey who had only been able to offer him the services of a man who Dorey had admitted was something of a crook. Maybe he (Sherman) should have consulted Radnitz and dumped the whole sordid affair in his lap, but Mary had been against consulting Radnitz.

  She feared and hated this fat, squat German. When Sherman had asked her if she thought he should see Radnitz, she had begged him not to. Now, although he still refused to accept Radnitz’s estimate of Dorey, he began to wonder if he should have listened to his wife’s advice and instead, have gone immediately to Radnitz. After all, Radnitz had everything to gain in helping him and he also had tremendous influence.

  Quickly, he came to a decision.

  ‘I will tell you,’ he said. Briefly, he told Radnitz about the stag film, the threatening letter and also that there were three other films and his need to find his daughter.

  Radnitz sat motionless, drawing on his cigar, bis hooded eyes veiled while he listened.

  ‘So you see,’ Sherman concluded, raising his hands helplessly. ‘I was desperate. Dorey is my friend. He is helping me. I had to take the risk of coming here, but now I can see I could have been hasty.’ He forced a smile. ‘I see now I should have come to you.’

  Radnitz let rich-smelling smoke roll out of his thin-lipped mouth.

  ‘So Girland is handling this operation?’

  Sherman regarded him.

  ‘Sounds as if you know this man.’

  ‘There are few men of his ilk — happily few -1 don’t know. I once employed him with disastrous results.(see ‘This Is For Real’) He is clever, cunning and dangerous… a man I wou
ld never trust.’

  ‘Dorey said he was my only chance to get these films.’

  ‘Yes… I think Dorey might be right. If one pays Girland enough, he delivers. He could find the films and also your daughter.’ Radnitz looked quizzingly at Sherman. ‘Then what?’

  Sherman moved uneasily.

  I will destroy the films and control my daughter.’

  ‘Will you? How old is your daughter?’

  ‘Twenty-four.’

  ‘So how will you control her?’

  ‘I’ll reason with her… persuade her…’

  Radnitz made an impatient movement with his hands.

  ‘What do you know about your daughter, Sherman?’

  Sherman looked away, frowning, then he said slowly, ‘She has always been tiresome, unruly… a rebel. I admit I don’t know much about her. I haven’t seen her for three years.’

  ‘ I know that. I have had her watched… she is part of my investment.’ Radnitz shifted his bulk in the chair. ‘What are your feelings about her?’

  Sherman shrugged.

  ‘I can’t say I have any great feelings about her. She just doesn’t fit in with my way of life. It would be impossible to have her with us at the White House… utterly impossible.’

  There was a long pause, then Radnitz said in his quiet, deadly voice, ‘Suppose some unfortunate accident happened to her and you lost her… would you mind?’

  Sherman stared at the squat fat man who reminded him of a stone Buddha.

  ‘I don’t understand

  ‘You are wasting time!’ Radnitz’s voice was savage. ‘You heard what I asked you. If you never saw your daughter again, would you mind? That’s simple enough, isn’t it?’

  Sherman hesitated, then slowly shook his head.

  ‘No. In fact, it would be a relief to me if I was sure I would never see her again. But why go into this? She’s here…making a nuisance of herself, and I have to accept it.’

  ‘Do you?’ Radnitz flicked ash again onto the carpet. ‘Your daughter presents a permanent embarrassment to you as long as she is alive. Suppose Girland is successful and he gets the films… what good does that do you? She can make other films or she can make other scandals. The fact is she hates you and your way of life as much as you dislike her and her way of life. I have had your daughter investigated. She is tied up with this stupid, juvenile Ban War organisation. She goes around with a man called Pierre Rosnold who runs this vapid organisation for profit. She is under his influence. He is politically minded if you can call his mind a mind. She and he are determined you should not be President. He, because you stand for the escalation of the Vietnam war and because he can profit by his power: she, because you are her father and she wants revenge for the way you have neglected her.’ Radnitz paused to stare at Sherman. ‘Children have a way of paying back old scores. You wanted to be rid of her, she resented it, and now she has you where she thinks she wants you.’ Again Radnitz paused. ‘This is why,’ he continued, ‘you should have brought this problem immediately to me. Dorey may find your daughter, but he would not silence her, nor would he silence Rosnold.’ The ice cold eyes surveyed Sherman. ‘But I would and can.’