1953 - The Sucker Punch (6 page)

I turned my back on her and walked out on to the terrace. I felt as if I had been in a fight, and I didn't give a damn now one way or the other.

I sat in a basket chair and stared at the view for perhaps five minutes, then I became aware she was standing beside me.

There was something rather pathetic about her tiny, thin ugliness.

"You hurt me," she said plaintively. "You've bruised me."

"What do you imagine you've done to me?" I said, dabbing the side of my nose with my handkerchief. Where she had broken the skin, blood oozed slowly. "You're lucky I didn't wring your neck."

She sat down beside me.

"I think I would like a drink. Are you too occupied with your own selfish feelings to get me one?"

I went into the lounge and rang the bell.

Nothing I can say can give you an adequate idea of my feelings. I had fought and licked her! I knew it, and she knew it too. It meant I was through the door now and nothing could stop me! It was the greatest triumph of my life.

Hargis came in. I could tell by his expression that he was expecting to be told to throw me out. When he saw me with my thumb jammed in the bell, he came to an abrupt standstill.

"Bring a bottle of your best champagne," I said.

He looked from me out on to the terrace where Vestal had opened her pyjama jacket to examine her bruises. She was humming a little tune under her breath.

"Yes, sir," he said, his face expressionless.

"And make sure it is your best champagne this time," I went on. "I'll break the goddam bottle over your head if it isn't!"

His eyes dwelt on my face. There was a lot of hate in them.

When he had gone I went over to the telephone and called Blakestone's number.

"Any news yet on Conway, Ryan?"

"Sure. I've just got out. There's a profit of thirty-five thousand dollars for Miss Shelley, and I'm crediting you with nine hundred dollars commission. Okay?"

I glanced out on to the terrace.

Vestal was still examining her bruises. She had half-twisted around in her chair, and from where I stood I could see her white emaciated chest and her flat, unformed bosom. I shifted my eyes. There was no beauty there; just something dried up and unlovely.

"Fine," I said. "Make Miss Shelley's cheque out to me."

"But look, Chad…"

"You heard what I said!" I snapped. "You work for me, not for her. I'll give her my cheque. Understand?"

"Well, okay, Chad, but it isn't usual."

I dropped the receiver back on its cradle. No one was going to punch me on the nose and not pay for it. Instead of getting thirty-five grand, Miss Shelley would collect only twenty. The other fifteen thousand was going to be salted away in my bank as compensation.

Now do you see what I mean?

I was through the door and into a new and wonderful world.

As I walked out on the terrace, Vestal hurriedly closed her pyjama jacket. Then she did something I would never have expected her to do; something that shocked me, and believe me, I am not easily shocked.

She gave me a coy little glance and a coy little smile.

"You shouldn't have sneaked back like that," she said. "I believe you were peeping."

Peeping! If such a suggestion hadn't been disgusting to me, it would have been gruesomely funny. Did this wizened, flat-chested, ugly little creature really imagine I should want to peep at her? Did she imagine I was that hard up for women? Couldn't she see by just looking at me I had only to snap my fingers and there would be a flock of women rushing at me?

Somehow I managed to dig up a flashing smile.

"You're embarrassing me, Miss Shelley. I had something on my mind. I have just made you twenty thousand dollars."

She immediately forgot to be coy and her eyes popped open.

"I had a little flutter on your behalf," I went on, sitting down beside her. "This morning I gave my broker instructions to buy a quarter of a million dollars’ worth of Conway Cement. It moved up four points, and he got out with a twenty, thousand dollar profit."

She stared at me.

"You—you used a quarter of a million of my money without asking my permission?" she gasped.

"I didn't use your money," I said impatiently. "I used your name which happens to be worth more than money. In other words I pledged your credit."

"I've never heard such a thing! Suppose the stock had gone down? You don't imagine I would have accepted responsibility, do you?"

I grinned at her.

"The stock couldn't go down. If you put a quarter of a million dollars into a concern, its stock value must go up. Isn't that obvious?"

"But you didn't consult me." She looked sharply at me. "How much did you say I've made?"

"Twenty thousand, but if you're doubtful about taking it, just say so. I can use it."

She gazed at me for a long moment. Into her eyes came a fascinated, admiring look.

"It seems, Mr. Winters, you really are a very clever young man."

"In spite of being a cheap crook and a damned racketeer?"

She laughed.

"I was angry then."

"Well, go ahead and apologize," I said, staring straight at her. "Unless, of course, you still think so."

She made a face at me.

"I don't think so now. I apologize." She rubbed her shoulders ruefully. "And you had better apologize too. You hurt me."

"Not likely. It's about time someone manhandled you. You've been having it too much your own way. You should be glad I didn't give you a damned good hiding."

A little cough sounded behind me and I glanced around. Hargis was standing by my side, holding a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and two glasses on a tray. He set them down on the table, opened the bottle and poured the wine.

As he was about to move away, I said, "Wait a moment. Let me taste this wine." I tried it, nodded and looked up at him. "That's a lot better, Hargis. It could have been a little more chilled, but it will do. Okay, run along."

He went away, rigid and silent.

Vestal giggled.

"I can't imagine what he is thinking." She took the glass I handed to her. "You shouldn't have spoken to him like that."

"It's time someone put him in his place. Let's forget him. He's not important," I said. "Let's talk business, Miss Shelley. What have you arranged with Howe?"

"I haven't arranged anything. I was so angry I wouldn't listen to what he wanted to say. I told him I would see him later."

"Okay, then I'll handle him. Howe's a useful man. He can collect your rents without trouble, but he needs me to control him."

She looked hard at me.

"You know, Mr. Winters, I am glad you are on my side. You are on my side, aren't you?"

"I've given you enough proof of that, haven't I? I am on your side all right, and I am on my side too. It just happens your side and my side are on the same side. Now we've cleared the air, I want to talk to you about your investments. The bank hasn't attempted to turn your spare money over for months. I suggest you give me your authority to make changes. I also want your authority to free a quarter of a million in cash so I can gamble with it." As she started to speak, I went on quickly, "It is understood that if I lose more than twenty thousand in any one month, the use of the money is withdrawn. I will submit a fortnightly statement to show you exactly what I am doing with the money, and if I don't make you the minimum of five thousand dollars a month tax free, the money goes back into gilt edge stock again."

"But I don't want to lose twenty thousand," she said. "I can't agree to that."

"I have just made you twenty thousand for nothing," I said impatiently.

"In actual fact I am supplying the margin on which I'll gamble. So what are you worrying about? But if you don't want some tax-free money, say so and I won't bother."

She hesitated.

"I want a weekly statement then."

"All right. I don't care. Have a weekly statement."

"You really think you can make me five thousand a month tax free?"

"I'm damned sure I can."

"Very well, you can have the money." She studied me doubtfully. "I suppose you will be making something out of it yourself?"

I laughed.

"Of course I shall. I have an arrangement with my broker. It won't cost you a dime, but it'll cost him plenty." I pushed back my chair and stood up. "Well, I have a lot of things to do, Miss Shelley. I'll run along now."

She sat looking up at me. The fascinated, admiring expression was still in her eyes.

"Perhaps you would like to dine with me here tonight?"

I shook my head.

"I'm sorry, but I have a date tonight."

She looked suddenly sulky.

"Oh. Some woman, of course."

"I'm going to the fights. No woman tonight."

"Fights? What fights?"

"Out at Parkside Stadium."

"I've always wanted to see a fight. You wouldn't take me with you, would you?"

I was just about to turn her down, when I suddenly realized that the exclusive, important Miss Shelley, worth seventy million dollars, was actually angling for an invitation.

I didn't want to take her. I had a nice blonde lined up for tonight, but I saw an important opportunity here; too important to pass up. It would do my credit a power of good and it would make a big impression on the sporting boys to see me with Vestal Shelley hanging on my arm.

"You really want to come?" I said, as if I didn't care one way or the other.

"Oh yes, please." She jumped to her feet, her thin, pinched little face suddenly animated and bright. "Will you take me?"

"Well, all right if you want to come. Suppose I pick you up at seven? We can have dinner at the Stadium."

"I'll be ready at seven."

"Fine. Well, so long, Miss Shelley." I moved towards the steps leading to the garden, then paused, "I still have that car of yours. Can I keep it a little longer?"

"Why, yes." She was looking at me in a way that surprised me. Her eyes were bright, her face flushed and she seemed suddenly as excited as a child going to its first party. "Keep it as long as you like, Mr. Winters."

"Thanks."

As I drove slowly down the cliff road, back to Little Eden, I took stock.

In two days I had cleaned up twenty-four thousand dollars! It seemed unbelievable, but it was a fact. My partnership with Ryan Blakestone would bring me in at least a thousand a month. What had I to worry about? At last I was getting the breaks. If I handled this setup right, and I intended to handle it right, there was no end to the money I could make.

I drove over to the Florian restaurant feeling I had a pretty good morning's work behind me.

chapter five

T
he last of the preliminary bouts was on when we left the Stadium restaurant and walked down the dimly lit aisle to our ringside seats.

I had quickly discovered that taking Vestal Shelley out for the evening was a regal occasion.

She was wearing a flowing white evening gown with white tulle to hide her skinny shoulders. She was ablaze with diamonds. She had a diamond collar around her throat, diamonds in her hair, diamonds covering the bodice of her dress, and diamonds around her wrists. The effect was pretty overpowering and her every movement sent brilliant flashes to dazzle me.

We went to the Stadium in a Rolls Royce as big as a battleship. Joe, the chauffeur, was decked out in a cream whipcord uniform, patent leather knee boots, gauntlets and a cream peaked cap with a black cockade in it.

I felt as if I had been caught up in some Hollywood epic, and when the Stadium manager came down the red carpeted steps to welcome her to her first visit to the Stadium, it was then I thought of the evening as a regal occasion.

Half way through dinner, the Press arrived, and spent the rest of the meal firing off flashlights at us. It seemed Miss Shelley seldom appeared in public, and her visit to the fights was causing a major sensation.

We didn't get much chance to talk to each other during dinner, what with Press photographers, columnists and the maître d’hôtel pestering us, and in a way it was a good thing. But I could see she was getting as big a bang out of the outing as I was.

It's a funny thing, but it didn't occur to me that she was getting her bang out of being in my company. I thought she was getting it, as I was, from the fuss and attention we were receiving. It was only later that I realized it was my company that had made her so animated.

It was while we were having coffee and brandy that a big, burly, hard-faced guy in a creased grey suit, his black hair close cropped and turning a little grey at the temples, came up to our table.

He bowed to Vestal, giving her a tight little grin.

"This must be a record, Miss Shelley. You at the fights!"

I expected she would give him a cold brush off, but she seemed pretty glad to have him notice her.

"Mr. Winters persuaded me," she said, looking coyly at me. "After all, we should all try everything once." She touched my sleeve. "This is Lieutenant Sam Leggit of the City police, lieutenant, this is Mr. Winters, the banker."

That was the first time I had met Leggit and I could see right away he didn't like the look of me anymore than I liked the look of him.

"Haven't I seen you at the Pacific, Mr. Winters?" he asked, his hard grey eyes probing. Mr. Winters, the banker wasn't cutting any ice with him. He was telling me he knew I was just a clerk who could be kicked by my boss as he could be by his.

"I wouldn't know," I said indifferently. "We get a lot of traffic through the bank."

"Yeah, I guess that's right." He looked from me to Vestal and from Vestal back to me. "Glad to know you, Mr. Winters."

I didn't see why we should both tell a lie so I didn't say anything.

"I'll have a man watch those diamonds, Miss Shelley," he went on. "This joint's not all it should be. No need for you to worry." He gave her his tight little grin, nodded curtly to me and moved off into the crowd.

"So you have a cop to look after you," I said lightly.

"The Lieutenant and I are pretty good friends," she said, like a child who is claiming a general once patted her head. "I used to know him when he was on patrol. He comes to dinner sometimes and tells me about his cases."