1956 - There's Always a Price Tag (9 page)

'Front entrance today,' Dester said, 'and pick me up there tonight.'

I took him around to the front entrance and pulled up.

'When you come back for me, bring a couple of suitcases with you,' he said as he got out. 'There'll be some liquor to shift.'

'Yes, sir.'

I watched him walk up the steps as if he owned the place and I admired his guts. The doorman hesitated, then opened the door for him, hesitated again, then touched his cap.

I turned the car and drove back to the house.

As I put the Rolls into the garage I saw the Cadillac was there, and that meant Helen was somewhere in the house. I suddenly decided it was time to have a talk with her.

I went up to the apartment above the garage and changed into my new suit. I didn't intend to talk to her as a chauffeur: this morning's conference was going to be on level terms.

I went over to the house.

I stood in the hall and listened, but I couldn't hear a sound that told me where she was. I walked into the lounge. The cigarette-butts in the ashtrays and the used whisky glass on the bar told me she hadn't been in there as yet. The time was twenty minutes to eleven. It was possible she was still upstairs. I left the lounge and walked up the stairs, taking care to make no noise. I paused outside her bedroom door and listened, then, hearing no sound, I turned the door handle gently and pushed open the door.

The bedclothes had been thrown back. On a chair by her dressing-table were her nylon underwear, her silk stockings and her girdle. The bathroom door was ajar. I could hear the shower going. I stepped into the bedroom, shut the door and walked over to one of the lounging chairs and sat down. I lit a cigarette, thinking that, two years ago, a guy with a weak heart had also sat in her bedroom waiting for her while she stood under a shower. She would find it a little harder to throw me out of a window if the idea entered her lovely head.

After five or six minutes of waiting, I heard the shower turn off. I could hear her moving about in the bathroom. Another five minutes dragged by, then she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a yellow turkish towelling wrap.

We looked at each other.

She stood motionless, her hand on the door handle, her other hand holding the wrap in place. Her face, without make-up, was pale, but still beautiful. Her eyes were as hard and as cold as two pellets of ice.

'Hello,' I said and smiled at her.

'What are you doing in here?'

'I wanted to talk to you. It's time we had a talk.'

'Get out!'

'I bet you didn't say that to Van Tomlin when you came out of the bathroom.'

Her face remained expressionless, but her mouth tightened and that told me I had sunk one in that had shaken her.

She moved into the room, went over to the dressing-table and sat down. 'You heard what I said - get out!' She picked up a comb and began to comb her hair, her back half turned to me.

'Not before I talk to you. We have a lot to talk about: your husband, the other night, your future plans, things like that.'

'If you don't get out I'll telephone for the police.'

'That's fine. Go ahead and telephone them. They'll be interested to hear how you tried to murder Dester the night before last. They get a big bang out of things like that.'

She laid down the comb, turned slowly and faced me. Her face now was chalk white. There was something half hidden behind the white flesh and the bone structure that sent a prickle up my spine.

'What did you say?'

'You heard me,' I said. 'That was a stupid move of yours. You should be grateful to me for stopping it. You should be very grateful.'

'Are you drunk? What do you mean?'

'You know what I mean. You don't imagine I would have stopped it if I had been sure it was foolproof, do you? But it wasn't foolproof.'

She continued to stare at me.

'You must be drunk,' she said. 'Get out of here!'

'I know Dester has insured his life for three-quarters of a million dollars, and you want to get your hands on the money,' I said. 'You want that money so badly, you tried to kill him the night before last.'

That jolted her. She stiffened, and her face turned the colour of bleached bones. 'That's a lie!' she said in a voice scarcely above a whisper.

'You know it's the truth,' I said, watching her. 'The night before last you decided to get rid of him, but I was in the way as all the other servants you have had have been in the way. Don't think you've kidded me. I know how you have got rid of them so you could be alone with Dester. You thought you would have one more attempt to fix him, but you had to be sure I was out of the way. You left me stranded at the Foothills Club as you thought, and came back here and found, as you thought, Dester drunk and incapable. You were going to launch him in the car into the traffic and hope for the best. Only I wasn't stranded and Dester wasn't drunk and, besides, the idea wasn't watertight.'

She looked away, reached for her comb again and began to run it through her silky, copper-coloured hair.

'I knew you were going to be a nuisance,' she said as if speaking to herself. 'I knew it the moment I saw you. Well, what are you going to do about it? Tell the police?'

'No, I'm not going to tell them. I am on your side,' I said. 'If I wasn't I should have let you drive him down to the gates. I didn't know he was faking. If he had been drunk and had hit something, you would be in jail by now.'

'Would I?' She looked at herself in the mirror, then put down the comb, opened a silver cigarette-box that stood on the dressing-table and took out a cigarette. 'Why?'

'Because there was no guarantee that he would have been killed. He might have been hurt; he might have come out of it without a scratch. Suppose he had told the police you had put him in the car? Even if they didn't slap an attempted murder rap on you, they would have tipped the insurance company and that would have been that.'

'I still don't know what you're talking about,' she said, blowing smoke at the reflection of herself in the mirror.

'You don't fool me,' I said, stubbing out my cigarette and lighting another, 'but okay, if you want it in one syllable words here it is: when Dester dies he will be worth three-quarters of a million. You are his wife. Unless he has willed the money elsewhere, it will come to you. You don't want to wait until he dies naturally. For all you know he might outlive you. You have decided to help him into his grave. That's okay if you can do it, but you don't seem to realize how tricky it is. You have only to make one slip and you'll kiss that money good-bye for keeps. You're dealing with the biggest and the most powerful insurance company in the country. You have already made one slip. You've shown your husband your hand.'

'How have I done that?' she asked.

'He wasn't drunk. As soon as you left the garage he came to. He told me he wanted to make sure you would murder him for the insurance money and now he is sure. He said he is going to take care you don't ever get the money.'

She lifted her eyebrows. 'Did he say that?'

'Yes.'

She thought for a moment, then she shrugged her shoulders.

'Well, that seems to be that then, doesn't it?' She looked at me. 'It is very touching that you should tell me this. Why don't you go to the police and tell them instead of me?'

'Don't be dumb,' I said. 'I told you I'm on your side.'

'Why are you on my side?'

I grinned at her. 'Take a look in the mirror: that should tell you. Besides, I was planning to take half of what you got from the insurance company.'

She studied me, her face expressionless.

'What makes you think you would have got it?'

'You're not stupid. You would have figured it was better to have half a bun, than no bun at all. If you hadn't shared with me, I would have blown the lid off your racket.'

'You couldn't have proved anything,' she said.

'No, but I could have created doubt. I've been digging into your past. After seeing the way you handled Dester when he was pretending to be drunk, I can see how easy it was for you to tip Van Tomlin out of the window.'

'He fell out. I didn't touch him.' There was a wary look in her eyes that told me I had jolted her again.

'That's your story,' I said. 'If I went along to the National Fidelity and told them what I had seen in the garage on Wednesday night and jogged their memory about Van Tomlin, you wouldn't have a hope in hell of ever collecting Dester's insurance. They would stick their best dicks on to you. They would investigate Van Tomlin's death. They would make you sue them for Dester's insurance, and they would cast so many doubts, paint such a picture of your character that no judge would find for you. They might even hang a murder rap on you. I've had some experience with big insurance companies, and you'd be surprised at the antics they get up to so they don't have to settle a claim.'

She continued to stare at me. 'So you imagine you're in a nice, safe position to blackmail me?'

I laughed.

'I was in a nice, safe position to blackmail you, but you've handled it so badly there won't be any insurance money now for you: nor for me. Dester's on to you, and he's going to make sure you don't get the money. You've got to face it.'

'Have you finished?' she asked, stubbing out her cigarette.

'Yes, I've finished. I just wanted you to know where you stood. Don't make plans to knock Dester off. Your only chance is to wait now until he dies of drink. Maybe he'll have a change of heart and leave you the money in his will, providing you are nice to him. Why not try it? It can't hurt you. Play ball with him. Win him over. He can't last much longer at the rate he's swallowing the stuff.'

'When I want your advice I'll ask for it. Now, get out!' She stood up, facing me.

'He said you were as cold as an iceberg,' I said, getting up. 'I don't believe it. I'm tempted to find out just how cold you are.'

She didn't move, but the colour of her eyes darkened.

'We're alone here,' I went on, moving towards her. 'Do you see any reason why we shouldn't use this opportunity?' I got within a foot of her, then reached out, putting my hands on her shoulders. Her hand flashed up towards my face, but I was expecting such a move. I caught her wrist, jerked her to me, twisted her arm behind her and crushed my mouth down on hers. For a long moment she remained rigid, not fighting me off, but her lips hard and unyielding, then she suddenly relaxed against me, her arms slid up and around my neck.

* * *

Around twenty minutes past one, I went into her bathroom and took a shower. I was feeling pretty good. My forecast had been accurate. She was no iceberg, and I wished now I had had a bet with Solly when I told him I could thaw her out.

I dressed in the bathroom and returned to the bedroom. She was lying on the bed, covered by the yellow wrap, her hair spread out on the pillow, her eyes closed, her breathing gentle and steady. Her face was flushed. She looked younger and more lovely than I had ever seen her before. I stood at the foot of the bed and looked down at her. Like a relaxed cat, she stretched, opened her eyes and stared up at me.

'So you really think I've got no hope of getting that money?' she said.

'Is that all you can think about?' I said, suddenly irritated that the first words she could speak to me had to be about the money. Up to this moment, she had not spoken a word since I had taken her in my arms.

'Why not? It's important, isn't it? Three-quarters of a million! Think what we could do with all that money.'

Well, at least, she was now including me in the financial scene. I sat on the bed, close to her.

'He said he was going to make sure you didn't get it,' I said. 'Yesterday he flew up to San Francisco. It's my bet he's talked with the insurance people. No, I think you can kiss it good-bye.'

'His contract runs out today,' she said, reaching for a cigarette. She put it between her red lips and waited for me to light it. She went on, 'He'll stay here night and day, drinking. He'll have no more credit. They'll take everything. I might as well pack and get out now.'

'And where do you think you'll go?'

She shrugged. 'I've a little money put by. I'll find someone else. There's always some fool with money to be found. I think I'll go to Miami.'

'Don't be in too much of a rush,' I said, lighting a cigarette. 'Stick with him until the smash. You never know. He might borrow on the policy and square his debts. Three-quarters of a million is quite a piece of money.'

'He won't give me any of it. No, I'm going to clear out. I've wasted too much time already. I can look after myself.'

'I'm not so sure that you can,' I said, looking at her. 'You may be smart at hooking a guy, but you're not all that hot when it comes to landing him. You lost thirteen thousand on the Van Tomlin deal. You've made a complete mess of the Dester deal. Tell me, did you push Van Tomlin out of the window?'

She stared up at me, her green eyes suddenly empty.

'No. He fell out. I could have saved him perhaps if I had caught hold of him, but I didn't. But I didn't push him out.'

I had an idea she was lying, but I knew it was a waste of time to press her. She had no intention of telling me what really happened.

'Well, don't be in too much of a rush. Don't go today. Wait and see what he's planning to do when he gets back,' I said. 'You never know. Why don't you have a change of heart? When he comes back, be kind to him. He might part with something. It's worth trying.'

She grimaced. 'It's too late now,' she said. 'I couldn't bear him to touch me. No, I'm going to clear out.'

'Wait until he comes back,' I said.

She shrugged. 'All right, but I shall go tomorrow.'

'Alone?'

She looked at me. 'Of course. You don't imagine I'd want you with me, do you?'

'You might do worse,' I said. 'You and I might work a deluxe badger game. I'm not saying we could pick up three-quarters of a million: that's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but we could pick up quite a lot of spare change. You need a guy like me to handle the financial side of the business. With your looks and my brains we could make a packet of money.'