Have a Nice Night Page 8

  Anita stood listening, looking around the dimly lit expanse of the kitchens, at the stoves, the ovens, the glittering copper pots and pans hanging on the walls, the sinks, the big dish washing machines. Where would it be safe to hide a bomb? For some minutes, standing just inside the kitchens, her back against the entrance door, she looked, wondered, then looked again. No place she could see offered a safe hiding place.

  Her heart pounding, she moved across the expanse of floor to the store room where jars of stock lined the shelves, and bins, cheeses and the butter refrigerator stood against the wall. Here, possibly, could be a hiding place. She lifted the lid of a bin marked FLOUR. There must be half a hundred weight of flour in the bin, she thought.

  As she was staring down at the smooth white surface of the flour, she heard someone crossing the kitchens and coming to the store room. Hurriedly closing the lid of the bin, she looked wildly around for a place to hide, but there was nowhere. Was it Prescott? Her mind flew to Pedro. If Prescott found her here, she would be sacked! She might even land in jail! Then there would be no way to get Pedro released!

  Bracing herself, she moved out of the store room and found Dominic gaping at her.

  'Anita! What are you doing here?' he asked.

  She forced a smile and moved towards him. 'I am looking for you,' she said.

  For some time, Dominic had lusted for this squat-built, big eyed Cuban girl. Every so often, she had allowed him to put his hand up her skirt in return for left-over food which she had told him was for her out of work husband. Her round, firm buttocks excited him. He had spent many hours, thinking of the moment when he would take her. Now, here she was at 02.30, telling him she was looking for him. So great was his lust for her, he didn't even wonder what she was doing in the hotel at this hour. All he could think of was she was looking for him, and that could mean only one thing.

  He caught hold of her, pulling her against him. His hands slid down her back. Lifting her skirt, his fingers gripped her tight buttocks.

  Anita closed her eyes. His fingers, gripping her flesh, made her feel sick. She thought, 'Pedro, my darling, this is for you. Forgive me! This, what is happening, is for you.'

  'Come to the office,' Dominic said, his voice strangled. 'It will be all right. We will make wonderful love.' Putting his arm around her, he led her across the kitchens and to the chef's office.

  As she went with him, Anita was confident she had found a safe hiding place for the bomb. Now, she had to handle this man, giving him a little, but only a little.

  They entered the office and Dominic closed the door. 'Lie over the desk. We must hurry,' he said.

  Anita broke away from him. 'No! Not that way!'

  Dominic, sweating, his heart hammering, stared at her. 'Lie over the desk! I know you want me! It's the only quick way. Lie over the desk!'

  'No! We must find a bed,' Anita said, waving him away.

  As Dominic began to expostulate, the telephone on the desk began to ring. The sound of the bell was like a blow in Dominic's face. His lust vanished. He realized what he was doing. By this stupid act, he might ruin his career! He stared at Anita, now seeing her as a dark, not very attractive Cuban, and Cubans were as nothing to him. He must have been out of his mind to have lusted after this girl who was backing away, her eyes frightened.

  He snatched up the telephone receiver.

  'Scrambled eggs, sausages and coffee for two,' a man's voice snapped. The slur in his voice told Dominic he was drunk. 'Suite seven,' and the receiver was slammed down.

  Dominic waved to a door at the far end of the office. 'Go that way! Quick!' and he hurried out of the office.

  Shaking and thankful she wouldn't have to submit to this man's lust, Anita opened the door and found herself on a concrete path that led to the staff restaurant. She knew her way, a short cut, taking her behind the row of chalets, to the main road to Seacomb. Holding her shoes in her hand, she ran silently into the darkness.

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  Two days passed. During those days, the police continued their hunt for Fuentes, and finally decided he was indeed in Havana. Pedro Certes, in the intensive care ward, remained unconscious. A bored detective sat at his bedside.

  Anita had been in touch with Manuel Torres. She went about her usual duties at the hotel. Manuel had warned her to keep away from his fishing vessel. They had met, the previous evening, at a small bar on the waterfront. She had told him the bomb could be hidden in the flour bin, and after thinking, Manuel had nodded approvingly.

  The two bombs hadn't arrived, but Manuel had heard from his friend, and the bombs would be arriving the following day. Manuel had assured her Pedro was surviving.

  During these two days, both Maggie and Mike had been partially successful in obtaining the information Brady needed. He decided he must talk to Ed Haddon who was staying at the Belleview Hotel, the second best hotel in the City. A meeting was arranged. Haddon had reserved a table at a quiet, expensive seafood restaurant near the yacht club.

  Brady had left his chalet at 21.00, stripped of his old man's disguise. He wore a business suit and a hat. At this hour, the Spanish Bay Hotel was busy. Brady had no fears that anyone would notice him leaving the chalet. He walked briskly down the path that led to a taxi rank.

  He found Haddon sitting at a secluded table, nibbling black olives with a double martini in front of him. The two men greeted each other, and Haddon got Brady a drink.

  The maitre d' arrived with the menus.

  'Have the chowder,' Haddon said. 'It's good.'

  They ordered the clam chowder, then when the maitre d' had gone away, Haddon asked, 'How's it taking shape?'

  Brady sipped his Scotch on the rocks, then reached for a black olive.

  'Maggie is making progress. She has the reception clerk feeding out of her hand. The problem is to find the hotel safe. I've told her not to rush it. The reception clerk will eventually tell her, but we have to move cautiously. The opposition is tough. Mike has been circulating. He is now on friendly terms with one of the security guards. The second guard is tricky. The two house dicks are professionals. Mike has made contact with them. He tells me they have to be handled with great care. The night dick is always looking for trouble.'

  The waiter served the clam chowder. Both men began to eat.

  Haddon said, 'From what you're saying, Lu, it doesn't seem to me you're making much progress. I'm financing this deal. Every goddam day you stay at the hotel is costing me money.'

  Brady hoisted a piece of clam into his mouth. 'You don't have to tell me. Ed. When I see what it is costing, my heart bleeds for you.' He grinned. 'But remember, what you put in, you take out.'

  Haddon scowled at him. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

  Brady shovelled more food into his mouth, chewed and nodded approval. 'This swill is pretty good, Ed.'

  'Cut this goddam crap!' Haddon snarled. 'Have you something or haven't you?'

  'Of course I have. Brady shovelled more food into his mouth. 'Does the name Silas Warrenton strike a bell?'

  Haddon's eyes half closed. 'Who doesn't know of Silas Warrenton? What are you yammering about?'

  Brady went on eating. He kept Haddon waiting for some minutes before he laid down his fork.

  'Warrenton's son, plus his newly wedded wife, are spending their honeymoon at the hotel's penthouse. She is plastered with diamonds.'

  Haddon dropped his fork onto his plate. 'The Warrentons are at the Spanish Bay?'

  Brady grinned. 'That's what I'm telling you, Ed. She with her diamonds.'

  Haddon pushed his plate aside. He was no longer interested in eating. 'Those diamonds, Lu, in the open market are worth at least eight million,' he said. 'A collar, bracelets and earrings. Right?'

  Brady nodded. 'That's what she was wearing when she came into the restaurant.'

  'I've had my eye on those diamonds ever since I heard that rich old fool Gomez, her father, had bought them as a wedding present. He was taken to the cleaners. I hear he
paid ten million. They are matched stones, something unique, but not worth ten.' Haddon eyed Brady. 'So she was there with the diamonds. Go on.'

  'The Warrentons are staying at the hotel for another ten days.' Brady paused to eat, then went on, 'Now, look, Ed, I know the original idea was to bust the hotel's safe and we would pick up around five million. It looked good to me, but so far, I haven't been able to locate the safe. I know the opposition is fierce: security guards and house dicks. I'm beginning to wonder if we would be better off going after the Warrentons' diamonds and forget the safe.'

  Haddon began to toy with the chowder again. 'Keep talking, Lu,' he said. 'I hear you.'

  'When you steered Mike Bannion to me, you picked a smart guy,' Brady said. 'He's not only a dead shot, but he has that thing ex-army men have.' He shook his head. 'I envy him. Take one look at him and you think this is a guy you can trust.' He paused to eat again. 'But he worries me, Ed. I keep wondering why a guy like him should turn crooked. It doesn't make sense to me.'

  Haddon made an impatient movement. 'Why bring him up? His brother who is more crooked than you are, and that's saying a lot, guarantees this guy, and that's good enough for me. Why make complications? Are you telling me you're not satisfied with Mike Bannion's performance?'

  'No. He's almost too good to be true. I'm not saying that. He just puzzles me, and another thing, I don't like the way he looks. He looks like a sick man.'

  Haddon shrugged. 'His brother told me Mike badly needs money. So, okay, if he delivers, why should you care?'

  Brady finished the chowder. 'I guess you have a point.'

  'How the hell did we get onto this? I'm not interested in Bannion. I'm interested in the diamonds.'

  'I've been working on this. I put Mike in the picture and last night he came up with the info I wanted. What I wanted to know was if this Warrenton woman put her diamonds in safe custody every night. That is, if she uses the box the hotel supplies for every client, and this box is locked in the hotel safe. The security guard told Mike she doesn't. She is one of those arrogant bitches who think, because she lives in the hotel, her jewels are safe, and she can't be bothered to hand them over and get a receipt from the guard after a late night out.

  'The security guard told Mike that there was quite a scene when this guard warned her she was taking a risk. He pointed out the hotel would take no responsibility if her jewels were stolen. She told him to go to hell. Then Dulac called on her, again pointing out the risk. She told him it was his business to make the penthouse secure. This he has done. You want service at the Spanish Bay Hotel, you get it.'

  Brady paused, then went on, 'So a concealed safe has been installed. Both Dulac and the Warrenton woman imagine her diamonds are safe.' Brady grinned. 'Safes? They're jokes to me. I can get those diamonds, Ed, if you are interested.'

  Haddon signalled to the maitre d' who hurried to the table.

  'Pecan pie,' Haddon said. 'Okay with you?'

  The, apple pie,' Brady said and sat back to pick his teeth.

  He watched Haddon staring down at the table cloth. He knew Haddon's mind was busy so he kept quiet.

  When the pies were served, Haddon said, 'The problem will be to dispose of the diamonds, but I think it can be arranged. The one man who can handle a deal like this is Claude Kendrick. I'll talk to him tomorrow.'

  Brady attacked his apple pie. He was pleased that Haddon hadn't even queried his ability to get the diamonds.

  Haddon ate his pie slowly, his eyebrows down in a frown of concentration. Brady, knowing the signs, relaxed and enjoyed his pie.

  The pies finished, coffee was served with balloon glasses of brandy.

  Haddon said abruptly, 'You wondered if we would be safer going after the Warrenton's diamonds than busting the hotel safe.'

  Brady looked sharply at him. 'Makes sense, doesn't it?'

  'Most things you say, Lu, make sense,' Haddon said quietly. 'Your trouble is you don't think big.'

  'Eight million seems big to me,' Brady said with a sly smile.

  'Thirteen million, possibly fifteen million looks bigger, doesn't it?'

  Brady sipped his brandy. 'You mean we grab the diamonds as well as busting the hotel safe?'

  'I'm not saying we will do it, but let's take a long hard look at it. Find out where the safe is located. Then when you have found that out, we'll talk again. In the meantime, I'll talk to Kendrick about the Warrenton's diamonds. Let's get a hustle on, Lu. Suppose we meet here tomorrow night at the same time? I'll have news for you, and you'll have news for me. Right?'

  Brady hesitated, then nodded.

  'I'll talk to Maggie,' he said, shook hands and leaving Haddon to settle the bill, he hurried out into the humid night.

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  During the past hour, Maggie had been talking to Mike Bannion. They were seated in the comfortable lounge of the chalet, both having had dinner in the staff restaurant.

  Maggie had taken a liking to Mike. He reminded her of her father who had been an army sergeant before being dishonorably discharged for large scale pilfering. Now dead, killed in a brawl, Maggie often thought of him. When he wasn't drunk, he had been devoted to Maggie, and she to him. She had had no time for her mother, and when her father was killed, her one thought was to leave home. At the age of thirteen, she had seduced the headmaster of her school. He had gone to jail, and she had been 'put into care'. Escaping, she was taken up by a rich old troll who was partial to young girls. She learned a lot from him: her sexual technique became impressive.

  Six years as a call girl hadn't spoilt nor toughened her. She was, Brady had often thought, the blueprint of a whore with a golden heart. She had a warm, sympathetic streak in her that men could sense. She was used to men confiding their troubles to her, and she always listened, patted them, smiled at them and let them unburden.

  It wasn't long before Mike told her about his daughter, Chrissy. They had been sitting together, waiting for Brady to return from his meeting with Haddon, and Maggie had told Mike about her father.

  'You remind me of him,' she said. 'Not in looks, but by the way you talk. Soldiers talk alike.'

  'I guess,' Mike said. 'You know, Maggie, I have never done a crooked thing in my life until now.'

  Maggie laughed. 'I've wondered about that. I'm not crazy about this business, but I'm crazy about Lu. I would do anything for him. What made you join with us, Mike?'

  So he told her about Chrissy. Listening, Maggie became so moved, tears came to her eyes.

  'How awful!' she exclaimed when Mike had explained that the money Brady was going to pay him would go to take care of Chrissy until she died. 'You mean the poor little thing will die in fifteen years time?'

  Mike nodded.

  'Why, that's terrible!' Maggie wiped a tear away. 'Mike, you are a marvelous father!'

  'I love her,' Mike said quietly. 'My one thought is to provide for her. That's the only reason why I'm doing this job.'

  He looked at Maggie. 'Will it work?'

  'It'll work,' Maggie said. 'Lu is marvelous! You don't think I want to go to jail?' She grimaced. 'What a thought! But Lu told me it will work and I won't go to jail, so that means it will work, Mike. Don't worry about that.'

  'Lu isn't really an old man, is he? When he leaves his wheelchair, his movements are those of a young man.'

  'He's younger than you are, Mike. He is a great artist. Don't worry.'

  At this moment, they heard Brady enter the chalet and walk quickly to the bedroom, he and Maggie shared. As he passed the living room door, he called, 'Maggie! I want you!'

  Maggie scrambled to her feet and ran into the bedroom, shutting the door. Brady was sitting at the dressing table, quickly putting on his disguise. He had no intention of letting Mike see what he really looked like. He was uneasy about Mike. If something went wrong and Mike got into the hands of the police, he just might give them a description of Brady as he really was, and that must never happen.

  'Hi, darling,' Maggie exclaimed, comi
ng to him.

  He waved her away, intent on turning himself into an old man.

  'Baby! Work! This reception clerk, Claude Previn. How's it going with him?' There was a snap in his voice that startled Maggie.

  'Is something wrong, honey?'

  'Don't yammer,' Brady said, fixing his moustache. 'How are you and Previn progressing?'

  'He's so hot he's likely to burst into flames,' Maggie said.

  'He's off duty now?'

  'Yes.'

  'Can you contact him?'

  Maggie blinked. 'You mean now?'

  'Of course I mean now! Don't be a pea-brain!'

  'Oh, Lu, you do sound cross!' Maggie said. 'I don't know if I can contact him. I do have his telephone number.'

  'Where does he live?'

  'He didn't tell me.'

  Brady gave an exasperated sigh. 'Call him!'

  He finished fixing his moustache, and began working age into the skin on his face. 'Now pay attention. You are going to him, wherever he is, and you're going to screw him stupid. Understand? When you have softened him up, you are going to find out where the hotel safe is located.'

  Maggie's eyes opened wide. 'How do I do that, hon?'

  'Tell him your patient is eccentric. He's expecting some valuable jewelry which he plans to give to his daughter. He wants to know about the security system of the hotel, and where the safe is. He will want to inspect the safe. Tell him you are scared of your patient and you don't want to lose your job. Tell him your patient is very difficult. Are you with me?'

  Maggie thought for a long moment. Brady could almost hear her brain working. 'But, Lu, pet, can't I tell him all this tomorrow when he's on duty, instead of having to go to bed with him?'

  'No! When we bust the safe, the cops will ask questions. I don't want you to be involved. Previn will keep his mouth shut rather than admit he has been having it off with you.'

  Maggie considered this, then she smiled. 'I always thought you were smart, Lu.'

  Bradey pointed to the telephone. 'Call him.'

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  The following evening, Ed Haddon was sitting at the corner table of the seafood restaurant, nibbling black olives, a double martini before him when Brady came in. The maitre d' arrived as Brady sat down.