Dames Don’t Care (7 page)

"If Granworth were killed they could have discovered it at the post mortem," she says.

"Maybe," I tell her, "an' maybe not. But the guy in the DA's office tells me that Granworth was smashed up through the fall into the river. Remember when that car hit bottom he banged plenty hard against the wind shield. His head was all smashed in, but that mighta been done before he was put in the car."

"I don't understand any of this," she says. "And I don't understand why Langdon Burdell should have bribed the watchman to tell some story that was not the truth. Why should he do that?"

"Search me, lady," I tell her. "But I expect that the DA's office can find that out if they wanta start gettin' funny with somebody."

I ask her if she would like some more coffee, an' she says yes, so I order it. While we are waitin' for it to come I am keepin' a quiet eye on Henrietta an' I can see she is doin' some very deep thinkin', which don't surprise me because it looks like I have given her something to think about.

When the coffee comes she drinks it as if she was glad to have something to do. Then she puts the cup down an' looks straight at me.

"I'm wondering why you took the trouble to tell me all this, Mr Frayme," she says. "What was in your mind? What did you expet me to do?"

"It ain't what's in my mind, Henrietta," I tell her. "It's what's in the mind of these guys in the New York DA's office. The thing is this. My friend who works there says that nobody gave a durn about whether Granworth Aymes committed suicide or not until this counterfeit business turned up. The inquest was all over an' everything was tied up an' put away, an' then this Registered Dollar Bond thing happens. Well, that's a Federal job, an' the 'G' people at Washington have made up their minds good an' plenty to find out who it was faked those phoney bonds. If they can find that out everything's hunky dory an' they ain't likely to worry about the inquest or anything else.

"When I went to the Hacienda Altmira last night that guy Sagers, the feller who was workin' there an' who was leavin' for Arispe today, told me you was Mrs Henrietta Aymes, an' I made up my mind to tell you about this business, an' here's why:

"Supposin' for the sake of argument you know somethin' about this counterfeitin'. Supposin' you know who fixed it. Well, if I was you I'd come across. Slip me the works. Then, when I go back to New York I can hand the information quietly to my pal in the DA's office an' if it's good enough for them to pass on to the 'G' people at Washington an' satisfy their curiosity, well, I don't reckon that they'll want to re-open that case about your husband.

"You see these guys reckon that you must know something about that counterfeitin'. An' if you don't come across with some information, it's a cinch that they'll re-open the business about your husband's death just so that they got something to pin on to you that will make you talk. See?"

"I see" she says, "but I've no information to give any one. The package of Dollar Bonds which I brought with me out here was taken from my husband's safe deposit where I kept them. I understood from Mr Burdell that the safe deposit was opened with the key taken from my husband's dead body by his lawyer, who handed them to me. That is all I know. As for their re-opening the question of my husband's death and the suggestion that I was in New York on that night, well, they'll have to prove that, won't they?"

"Yeah. I suppose they will," I tell her. I am thinking that all the proof wanted is in the three letters from her to Granworth that I have got stored away in the safe at the Miranda House hotel.

"Anyhow it was very nice of you to give me this warning," she says. "It seems that I have a lot to thank you for, Mr Frayme, and now, if you don't mind I think I'll be getting back."

We go out an' get into the car an' I drive back. I make out that I do not know where she is living an' she tells me the way. I drop her at the door, an' I wonder how she will feel when she finds out that somebody has pinched those three letters - three letters that may spell a bundle of trouble for this dame.

She says goodnight She gets outa the car an' she walks up to the door of the rancho. When she gets there she looks back at me an' smiles.

I reckon Henrietta has got nerve all right.

I start the car up an' I just drive along. I don't take any notice of where I am goin' because I am busy turnin' over in my mind what she has said. By an' large she seems to be takin' this business pretty calm.

There is one or two things that I cannot understand about this Henrietta. I cannot understand why she made that crack about havin' to marry Fernandez, an' I certainly cannot understand why she kept the three letters she wrote to Granworth - the letters that prove she saw him on the night he died-instead of gettin' rid of 'em pronto.

But I don't think that she knows anything about Sagers bein' bumped off. When I brought his name up an' said that he was the guy who was leavin' for Arispe I was watchin' her like a cat watches a mouse an' she never batted an eyelid.

An' I reckon she has got enough nerve to have bumped off Aymes. Let's do a bit of supposin'. Let's suppose she goes back to New York after writin' the letters because she has made up her mind to have a show down with Granworth about this woman who he is supposed to be runnin' around with. Maybe Granworth meets her some place in his car, because when I talked to Burdell about it when I was in New York before I come down here, he tells me that Aymes left the office to 'meet some people' an' he was lookin' a bit excited. Maybe he was goin' to meet Henrietta. All right, well, they meet an' they have one helluva row. It might be possible too, that in between whiles she has discovered that the Dollar Bonds he gave her was phoney. So what? Aymes is sittin' in the drivin' seat of the car in some quiet place an' she smashes him one over the head with a gun-butt or something an' knocks him out. Then she has an idea. She remembers how he tried this suicide business once before in East River, an' she thinks she can pull a fast one. She shoves him outa the drivin' seat an' pushes him over in front of the passenger seat Then she gets in an' drives round by the back way until she gets to Cotton's Wharf which is pretty deserted. She don't see the watchman standin' at the end of the wharf. She gets out, leavin' the engine runnin', turns the wheel so that the car is pointin' to the edge of the wharf, leans over an' presses the clutch pedal down with her hand an' shoves the gear lever into gear. Then, as the car moves she stands away an' shuts the door. This would account for the car runnin' into the wooden pile before it bounced into the river.

I reckon she coulda done it that way, an' I reckon that she has got the nerve. The fact that she's pretty don't mean a thing. I have known pretty janes bump guys off before-an' get clean away with it too.

I have been drivin' back along the road nice an' easy, an' away in front of me in the moonlight I can see the white walls of the Hacienda Altmira. I wonder if Periera has delivered this guy Fernandez back where he lives, an' I wonder how the Maloney bird is feelin'. It looks like this Maloney has fallen for Henrietta. I could tell by the way he was lookin' at her earlier in the evenin'. He's got that sorta nutty look that a guy gets when he starts gettin' excited about a jane, an' I am thinkin' that he'd better watch his step with Henrietta. I reckon that one could play him for a sucker too, if she wanted to. Maybe she's playin' him off against Fernandez - you never know with dames.

I drive past the front of the Hacienda an' turn around an' run pretty slowly past the back. I start gettin' curious. I start wonderin' whether they have took Sagers outa that sack in the ice safe yet an' buried him some place in the desert. I reckon that was done pretty early yesterday mornin'.

An' for some reason that I don't know I think I would like to have a look. I sorta get a hunch about this, an' when I get a hunch I always play it

I stop the car behind some old broken down adobe wall that runs away from the end of the garage, an' I look up at the windows an' case the place. I can't see any lights an' I can't hear anything. I keep in the shadows an' I get around by the wall until I come to the windows on the side of the dance floor an' in about two minutes I am inside.

The place is dark, but there are big patches of moonlight here an' there. I listen but I can't hear anything, an' I ease over to the bar, get over it, an' start workin' on the door of the storeroom behind the bar. I get this open an' go in. Mter I have closed the door I switch on the flash that I have brought outa the car an' go over to the ice safes. I look in 'em both an' I see that Sagers is gone. I thought he would be, because whoever bumped him would get him moved before the club opened again.

Over on a shelf in the corner is some botiles. I go over an' look at 'em, an' I see one is a bottle of tequila that has been opened. I sit down on a box an' take a swig at this bottle, an' although the stuff is durn strong it is better than no drink at all.

I sit there with this bottle in my hand flashin' the torch around an' wonderin' why I had this hunch about comm' back to see if they'd moved Sagers. I mighta known they woulda done this. While I am thinkin' about this the light flashes on a garbage can in the corner. Stickin' out from under the lid is what looks like the corner of a letter. I go over an' take the lid off an' stan lookin' at the rubbish inside. There is all sorts of junk in this can, an' I turn it over With my foot.

All of a sudden I turn over what looks like a photograph that has been torn in two. I take the two pieces out an' put them together. The picture has been cut out of a newspaper an' underneath it I can see the caption that is indistinct because it has been folded over.

I take this picture back to the box an' sit down an' have a look at it under the flash. I get a sorta idea that I have seen this guy in the picture before. Then do I get a start? I am lookin' at a picture of myself cut out of a newspaper. I straighten out the caption an' read it. It says Portrait of a G-man. Exclusive picture of Lemuel H. Caution, the Federal Agent who brought in the Yelltz kidnappers.

Then I remember. This was a picture of me published in the Chicago Times two years ago after the Yelltz case. I remember how burned up I was at havin' my face in a newspaper so's every durn crook would know me on sight.

Round at the side of the picture on the plain edge of the newspaper is some writin'. I look at it close. It says 'This is the guy.'

I get it. Now I am beginnin' to understand a thing or two. It looks like somebody has sent this picture of me along here, an' written on it 'This is the guy' so's somebody would know me when I got here. I reckon that somebody back in New York, who knew I had been put on this case sends this picture along here so that the guys this end will know that something is goin' to happen.

And this is why they killed Sagers! It hits me like a bullet. When I blew into the Hacienda Altmira the first time they knew who I was. They was wise to my act with Sagers. So they guessed he was workin' with me, an' when he told 'em that night that he was scrammin' to Arispe like we arranged, they bumped him. They thought he might know a bit more than he did an' they aren't takin' any chances.

An' if they'll bump Sagers, well, I reckon they will bump me if they get the chance.

I take a spot more tequila an' start doin' a little concentratin'. Who would be the guy who would get this old newspaper an' cut the picture out an' send it out here so's they would be waitin' for me? Wouldn't it be the same guy who went to the trouble of writin' me that anonymous note in New York so as to get me out here after the letters that Henrietta had got? You bet it would.

This guy knows about the letters. He fixes to get me out here after 'em. In doin' this he knows that he must be puttin' the idea in my head that Henrietta bumped Granworth Aymes an' he also takes the trouble to send a picture out to somebody here so's they'll know I'm me.

An' what is the big idea behind all this? Is it to get me out here because it will be easier to rub me out in this place - easier than anywhere else?

I get up off the box. This counterfeit case is beginnin' to look sweet an' interestin' to me. It is gettin' so tied up that in a minute I shall think I done it myself.

But way back in my head is an idea that I'm goin' to work on. The idea that it was this secretary bird Burdell who sent me that anonymous letter so's I should get out here an' get next to Henrietta, an' maybe start something that is goin' to end up with her bein' pinched on a first degree murder charge. An' if I am right about this what is he doin' it for? Is he doin' it because he thinks that he is helpin' justice that way or because he's got some reason for wanting to put Henrietta on the spot?

I take another swig at the tequila an' I put the picture of me back in the garbage can - which is where a whole lot of crooks would like to see me too - an' I scram. I get outside an' get the car goin' an' I slide back in the direction of Palm Springs, because I think that it is time that I got busy on this case. I reckon that if nobody else won't start anything then I had better start something myself.

When I get back to the Miranda House Hotel I find a telegraph waiting for me. It is coded an' is in answer to the one I sent to the 'G' office in New York asking for information about the people in Granworth Aymes' employ at the time of his death. It says:

Aymes employees as follows stop. Langdon Burdell secretary in service seven years now carrying on Ayrnes business under own name New York stop. Enrico Palantza butler at apartment in service four years present location unknown stop. Marie Therese Dubuinet maid to Mrs Henrietta Aymes now in service Mrs John Viaford New York stop. Juan Termiglo chauffeur service three years present location unknown stop. Despatching to you photographs Palantza Dubuinet and Termiglo within two days stop.

This don't tell me very much an' between you an' me I didn't see just then that havin' pictures of these guys was goin' to do me much good neither.

I light a cigarette an' I do some thinkin'. I reckon that just for the moment I ain't goin' to do much good around here. Whether Henrietta decides that she is goin' to hitch up with Maloney or Fernandez ain't goin' to get me no place.