1953 - The Sucker Punch (3 page)

I had no complete picture in my mind of what Vestal Shelley would look like. Seeing her propped up in an enormous bed with a high quilted headrest and on a raised dais gave me something of a shock.

She was a little thing: there was nothing of her so far as I could see. The first thing I noticed was her shock of mashed carrot-coloured hair that stood up in a gollywog cut, surrounding her small head in a fiery halo.

She was painfully thin. Her big glittering eyes were sunk deep into dark-circled sockets. Her small bony nose looked like the beak of a hawk. Her mouth was large and hidden under a plaster of blood-red lipstick.

I looked at her and she looked at me.

"You are Chad Winters?" she asked.

She had a surprisingly deep musical voice that was in odd contrast to her size and thinness.

"Yes, Miss Shelley. I am to take over from Leadbeater. No doubt, Mr. Sternwood ..." I stopped short because I could see she wasn't listening.

She was waiting to speak.

"You wrote this?" She held up my note.

"Yes."

She studied me for a long, uncomfortable moment.

"You are very handsome, Mr. Winters. Did you put those clothes on for my benefit?"

"Certainly. You seem to tire very quickly of the conventional clerk from the bank. You have used up fifteen of them, Miss Shelley, and there's only me left. I thought a change of scene might appeal to you."

"That was clever of you." She waved the note. "And this was clever too. I intended to keep you waiting for some time."

"I thought you might. That was why I wrote the note."

She inclined her head, studied me a little longer, then waved to the foot of the bed.

"Wouldn't you like to sit down?"

I climbed the four steps to the top of the dais and sat on the foot of the bed.

"What's this about my mink coat?" she asked, her eyes intent and searching my face.

If I hadn't done my work on the Shelley files during the past week, I had given considerable thought to the three points that had got Leadbeater into trouble. I had a solution for them all, but I wasn't sure how safe it would be to put the solutions forward.

"Before we go into that I would like your assurance that if you don't approve of my suggestions, you will forget I made them."

I saw surprise and interest jump into her eyes.

"Go on."

"Up to now, Miss Shelley, you have been dissatisfied with the way the bank has been handling your affairs. From what I hear, the bank has taken upon itself to give you advice you would rather not have. In other words, you and the bank have been on the opposite sides of the river so to speak. I intend to cross the river and work on your side."

She studied me.

"You begin to interest me, Mr. Winters. Now tell me about the mink coat."

"You are asking for it to be included in your expense claim. From the point of view of the bank and the tax authorities that is an unreasonable and ridiculous suggestion."

She continued to stare at me, her face expressionless.

"It so happens," I went on, "that I am all for slugging the government if I think I can get away with it. But that isn't the attitude of the bank."

"Never mind the bank."

"We have to consider the bank, anyway, for the moment, because it is only through the bank that I can fix this item as a legitimate expense. The bank's figures are accepted by the tax authorities without question. Of course the bank has to have receipts to back up its figures, but from my experience, these receipts are asked for once in a blue moon."

"Keep going, Mr. Winters; I am following you so far."

"The only way to get the cost of this mink coat into your expense allowance is to disguise it as something else." I waited a second or so, then went on, "and that is called perpetrating a fraud."

There was a long, sudden silence.

A lot depended on her reaction. Her face told me nothing. Her eyes continued to dig into my mind.

"Would you repeat that, Mr. Winters?" she said softly.

For a moment I hesitated. Was I sticking my neck out? Would she reach for the telephone and call Sternwood?

"It would be defrauding the revenue, Miss Shelley. They could fine you or even send you to jail."

"Could it be found out?"

I drew in a long breath of relief. She had said all I wanted to know.

The rest was easy. If she had shied away from the suggestion of fraud I should have been sunk, but there was no hesitation in her voice. All she was thinking about was whether she would be found out or not.

"The way I would handle it, the chances of being found out would be five hundred to one, and that, I think, is a reasonable risk."

"How would you work it?"

"Way back in 1936 your father had extensive repairs made to a number of his farms. These repairs were legitimate expenses, and he claimed for the amount and got it. The tax authorities didn't ask to see the receipts. They accepted the bank's word that the work was done. I have the receipts and I have bleached out the date and have substituted this year's date. I have now an up-to-date set of receipts the tax authorities have never seen before for extensive repairs to three farm buildings for the sum of thirty thousand dollars. That amount will more than cover the cost of your mink coat, won't it, Miss Shelley?"

"Suppose the tax authorities want to inspect the work?"

"That's the one in five hundred chance. If they do, then we're sunk, but they won't. They have other things to do. The Pacific Banking Corporation rates high with them. Its word won't be questioned. I promise you that."

She nodded and smiled. She had very small, white teeth.

"I think we might have a bottle of champagne on this, Mr. Winters. You seem to be a very clever young man." She touched the bell by her bed. "I think you and I are going to have a very long and pleasant business association together."

It was as easy as that. I could see the doors of the world I wanted were open. All I had to do was to go ahead and help myself.

Hargis brought in the champagne in a silver ice bucket and set it down on the table.

He opened the bottle with a flick of his fingers that only years of practice could have perfected. He poured the foaming wine into two glasses, and then offered one to Vestal and one to me. Then he went away.

"To a long and profitable relationship, Mr. Winters," Vestal said. She raised her glass.

We drank.

It was easily the worst champagne I have ever tasted, so bad that I had trouble not to grimace. I looked up and saw she was watching me.

"I am afraid Hargis has been naughty," she said, setting down her glass. "This is the muck I let the servants have at celebrations."

I went suddenly hot with anger.

"Maybe he thought it was good enough for me," I said before I could stop myself.

"Could be, Mr. Winters," she said smiling. "These old family retainers can be difficult at times. But never mind. He will come to appreciate you as he gets to know you better. Now we have the mink coat business settled, what do you propose to do about the Foundation rents?"

Don't imagine I was walking into this with my eyes closed.

She was only being gracious and condescending with her 'you're a very handsome and clever young man' talk and her lousy champagne for no other reason than the fact I was doing what Leadbeater had refused to do. She would continue to be condescending just so long as I was useful to her. She wasn't content to get the mink coat written off on her expense account; she was greedy for more. Having got the coat, she now wanted the extra rents, and having got the rents, she would bring up the sale of 334 Western Avenue.

"The Foundation rents?" I said as if surprised. "Well, I can fix that easily enough if you want it fixed."

"How?"

"By changing your estate management firm. I know a firm who would get your increased rents for you without fuss or trouble."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"A letter from you to Harrison & Ford telling them they cease to represent you from the first of the month."

"They have collected rents for my family for over forty years."

"When a servant ceases to be useful, it is always wise to get rid of him."

She looked at me, and there was a sudden spiteful expression in her eyes.

"Be careful those words don't come home to roost."

"They are not likely to," I snapped. "I don't consider I'm your servant. Your butler may think now he can push servant's champagne off on to me, but that's a trick that can have repercussions. I can be useful to you, Miss Shelley, but don't regard me as your servant!"

"Don't get annoyed," she said, startled. "You mustn't mind Hargis. After all he is old enough to be your father. You and I, I am quite sure, will get along fine together.”

I didn't say anything. At least I had let her know I wasn't to be pushed around. If she didn't like it she could get back Leadbeater.

There was a long pause, then I said. “On my way out I'll dictate a letter to Harrison & Ford for your signature.”

She lay back, wrinkling her beaky nose I don't know if she meant to look charming. but to me she succeeded only in looking like a made-up, wizened little doll.

"This has been quite a morning Mr. Winters. I don't remember ever having so much such fun with a bank clerk before."

Then to round it off I got to 334 Western Avenue. She looked hard at me.

"You seem to be taking care of everything today. Have you a solution for that too?”

"No solution is needed. It’s entirely up to you. Burgess wants to turn the house into a brothel. It depends on you if you want one of your father's properties to become a brothel."

I could see by her sudden frown she didn't like it as bluntly as that.

"Well, there's also the problem of the tenants,” I said.

"Mr. Leadbeater tells me I shouldn't turn them out. He was quite upset to think of them being without a home."

“There won't be any trouble about that. I'll fix it."

She raised her eyebrows "How would you do that?"

"That's something you needn't worry about, Miss Shelley. I will fix it in my way, and it'll stay fixed."

"All right. Then I would like to sell the property."

"I'll see Burgess this morning."

"This is all very satisfactory, Mr. Winters. I had no idea you were going to turn out to be such a ball of fire."

"There have been too many changes. It was obvious to me that something was wrong. The bank was forgetting the customer is always right."

She glanced at the bedside clock.

"Is that the time? I have an appointment in an hour and I'm not even dressed."

This was a pretty crude brush off. She had got all she wanted out of me, and now she wanted to be rid of me.

I stood up.

"It's been nice meeting you, Mr. Winters," she said and extended her claw-like hand. It felt cold and brittle in mine. "I think you are very clever, and I am very pleased with the change. I shall tell Mr. Sternwood."

I grinned at her. "Well, now, Miss Shelley, there are two small things you might do for me."

"Oh?" Her voice was suddenly cold. "What could I possibly do for you, Mr. Winters?"

"I want to get these matters settled for you quickly. I have no transport. It would be helpful if you could loan me a car for a day or two."

"But surely that's the bank's business to provide you with a car?"

"The bank isn't going to be told about the changes until they have been made," I said, "but if you haven't a spare car. . ."

"A spare car?" she snapped, "I have six spare cars!"

"Then perhaps you could lend me one."

She bit her lip angrily. I could see she hated parting with a car. She would hate to part with anything.

"Well, I suppose I could. Just for a day or so. All right; go to the garage. Joe will let you have one."

"Perhaps you would be kind enough to telephone him. I wouldn't want a car as bad as the champagne."

She started to look furious, then suddenly she laughed.

"You have a hell of a nerve, but I think I'm beginning to like you. You certainly know what you want and where you are going."

"I guess I do. The other point is a minor matter. I anticipate having quite a lot of confidential work to do for you in the future. The tax matter is an example. At the moment I am working in the main office of the bank where anyone can look over my shoulder and see what I am doing. In your interests, it would be better if I had an office of my own."

She lost her patronizing air. She was beginning to look at me as if I were a human being and not a performing animal, then she suddenly giggled.

"Does that poor old fool Sternwood know what kind of a clerk he's got? I bet he doesn't. I think you are going to go far, Mr. Winters. By all means quote me. Say I insist on you having a private office."

And that's how I got my hands on a car and an office. See what I mean when I said the doors to the world I was after were wide open?

And this was only the beginning.

chapter three

M
oe Burgess sat behind a battered desk, a dead cigar between his decaying teeth, a black slouch hat on the back of his head.

He was a little guy; thin, with a nose like a fishhook and a complexion like the belly of a toad.

A redhead with a bosom like a prima donna's, wrenched herself away from a typewriter and hip-swung herself across the intervening space to block me away from Moe.

"'What do you want?" she demanded in a voice no more musical than a fistful of empty cans being tossed downstairs.

"I want him," I said, pointing to Moe. "Shift the scenery, sweetheart. It's good, but this isn't the time nor the place."

I stepped around her and gave Moe the teeth; then I told him who I was.

"I'm Leadbeater's successor," I said. "I'm in charge of Miss Shelley's affairs."

He eyed me over, took in the pouch pocket sports jacket, then leaned forward to examine my shoes.

"Excuse me, Mr. Winters, but somehow you don't look like a guy from the bank."

"Let's skip all that. Are you still in the market for 334 Western Avenue?"