I'll Get You For This (2 page)

  "Mr. Cain?" he said, offering his hand.

  "Sure," I said, and shook hands.

  He had a grip like a bear's, but then so have I. We cracked each other's bones and pretended we weren't hurting each other.

  He said how pleased he was to meet me, and how he hoped I'd enjoy my stay at Paradise Palms.

  I admired his place and told him they had nothing like it in New York. That seemed to please him.

  By that time I'd finished my bourbon, and he called the barman.

  "Two," he said. "Take a good look at Mr. Cain because I want you to remember him. Whatever he wants is on the house, including his whole party."

  The barman nodded and gave me a quick up-and-down, and I could tell there wasn't a chance he would ever mistake me for anybody else.

  "All right?" Speratza asked, beaming at me.

  "Swell," I said.

  "I don't know what your plans are, Mr. Cain," he went on, after we had dipped into the bourbon, "but if you want a little relaxation and a mild gamble, you could do worse than spend

some of your time here."

  "That's just what I do want," I said. "I'm figuring on a quiet time, and a little company when I feel that way." I fiddled with my glass and then went on, "I don't want to sound ungrateful, but frankly, I'm a little puzzled by all this attention."

  He laughed. 'You're modest, Mr. Cain," he said, shrugging. 'Why even in this little place, far from anywhere, we've heard of you. We're glad to offer hospitality to such a successful gambler."

  "I appreciate it," I said, and shot him a hard look. "But I'd like to get this on record for all that. I'm on vacation: that means I'm not working. I wouldn't b
e
interested in any proposition from anyone. I don't suggest that I am going to be propositioned, but this build-up is a little overwhelming. I don't kid myself that I'm all that important. So pass the word around. I'm not in the market for anything except a vacation, and persuasion makes me mad. So if you still want to entertain me, go ahead, but it's all right by me if you want to put up the shutters and send me home."

  He laughed silently and easily as if I'd cracked the funniest gag in the world.

  "I assure you, Mr. Cain, you won't be propositioned. This town is small but very rich. We're hospitable people. We like distinguished visitors to have a good time. All we want is for you to relax and enjoy yourself."

  I thanked him and said I would.

  But in spite of his smoothness and his easy laugh, I had a feeling that he was jeering at me.

  After we had chit-chatted a while, and had worked through some more of the bourbon, Speratza said he guessed I was about set to enjoy myself, and how about a girl?

  "Well, how about her?" I said.

  "I've asked Miss Wonderly to look after you," he told me, showing his big white teeth in a knowing smile. "I'll have her come over. If she's not quite your type, say so, and I'll introduce you to some of the others. We have a lot of girls working for us, but Miss Wonderly rates high with us."

I said I hoped Miss Wonderly would rate high with me.

  "I'll be surprised if she doesn't," he returned, and with another smile of goodwill, he set off across the restaurant.

  I looked after him and wondered how much longer it would be before he or whoever it was behind this civic welcome would demand payment. I was as sure as I could be that someone was sweetening me for a shake-down of some description.

  A tall, distinguished man with white hair and a dark strong face had been looking at me. He was standing alone at the far end of the bar. He looked like a judge or a doctor or a lawyer, and his tuxedo looked like it had been cut by an angel.

  I saw him beckon to the barman and say something to him. The barman gave me a quick look, nodded and turned away The white-headed man came over to me.

  "I understand you are Chester Cain," he said curtly.

  "Sure," I said.

  He didn't seem friendly so I didn't offer to shake hands.

  "I'm John Herrick," he said, looking straight at me. "You haven't heard of me, but I have heard of you. Frankly, Mr. Cain, I'm sorry to see you here. I understand you are on vacation and I only hope it is true. If it is, then I hope you won't stir up trouble here."

  I stared at him. 'Thank God someone's sorry I've arrived," I said. "I was getting to think my welcome was genuine."

  "This town has enough trouble without importing wild gunmen," Herrick returned quietly. "I suppose it would be too much to ask you to give us no cause to complain?"

  "You've got me wrong," I said, laughing at him. "I'm not so wild. And listen, so long as I'm left alone, I'm the nicest guy on earth. It's only when people start crowding me that I get nervous, and when I'm nervous maybe I do get a little wild."

  He regarded me thoughtfully. "Forgive me for being so blunt, Mr. Cain. I am sure if you were left alone you would behave as well as anyone of us. But I think it might be as well if you changed your mind about staying in Paradise Palms. I have a feeling that someone will crowd

you before long."

I looked down at the bourbon.

"I've got the same feeling," I said, "but I'm sticking around for all that."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Cain," he said. "You may easily regret your decision."

I felt Speratza at my elbow.

Herrick turned abruptly away and walked across the room and out into the lobby.

  I looked at Speratza and he looked at me. There was just a flicker of doubt in his eyes that told me he was uneasy.

  "That was not one of the Welcome Committee," I said.

  "You don't have to worry about him," Speratza said, flashing on his smile. It cost him something, but he did it. "He's running for election next month." He pulled a little face, and added, "On a Reform ticket."

  "Seems anxious to keep Paradise Palms a nice clean town," I said dryly.

  "All politicians have platforms," Speratza said, shrugging. "No one takes him seriously. He won't get in. Ed. Killeano is the people's choice."

  "That's nice for Ed. Killeano," I said.

  We looked at each other again, and then Speratza waved.

  A girl came across the room towards us. She was wearing a bolero for a dinner jacket of blue crepe. Her skirt, split eight inches up the side, was of blue crepe, too, but her blouse was red. She was a blonde, and I bet every time she passed a graveyard the corpses sat up to whistle after her.

  By the time I'd recovered my breath, she was standing at my side. Her perfume was Essence Imperiale Russe (the perfume that quickened the pulse of kings). I can't begin to describe what it did to my pulse.

  Speratza was looking at me anxiously.

"Miss Wonderly," he said, and raised his eyebrows.

I looked at her and she smiled. She had small glistening teeth as white as orange pith.

  "Suppose you let Miss Wonderly and me get acquainted?" I said, turning back to Speratza. "I think we'll get along fine together."

  He looked so relieved that I laughed.

  "That's fine, Mr. Cain," he said. "Maybe we'll see you in a little while upstairs. We have four roulette tables or we could make up a game of poker for you."

  I shook my head.

  "Something tells me I won't be gambling tonight," I said, and taking Miss Wonderly's arm I walked with her over to the bar.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Speratza go off, and then I gave the whole of my attention to Miss Wonderly. I thought she was terrific. I liked the long wave of her hair, and her curves — particularly her curves. Her breasts were like Cuban pineapples.

  "This calls for a drink," I said, beckoning to the barman. "What part of Paradise did you escape from?"

  "I didn't escape," she said, laughing, "I'm out on parole, but I thought it was just another job. I know different now."

  The barman looked at us.

  "What'll you have?"

  "A green parrot," she said. "It's Toni's special."

  "Okay," I said to the barman. "Make it two."

  While the barman was fixing the drinks, I said, "So you don't think it's just another job?"

  She shook her head. "I read character," she said. "I'm going to have fun with you."

  I winked at her. "That's only half of it. What shall we do? I mean, let's map out a

programme."

  "We'll have a drink, then dinner, then dance, then we'll go to the beach and swim Then we'll have more drinks and then—–"

  "Then—what?"

  She fluttered her eyelashes.

  "Then we'll see."

  "That sounds exciting."

  She pouted.

  "Don't you want to dance with me?"

  "Sure," I said.

  I had a feeling I wasn't going to move a piano tonight.

  The barman put down two large glasses, three-quarters filled with green liquid. I made a move to reach for my roll, but he had already gone.

  "I can't get used to this on-the-house business," I said, picking up the glass. "You will," she said.

  I took a long gulp at the drink, and hurriedly put the glass on the counter. I clutched at my throat, coughed and closed my eyes. The stuff seemed to explode in my stomach, but a moment later I felt like I was sitting on a cloud.

  "Phew! That stuff kind of sneaks up on you," I said, when I could speak.

  'Tom's very proud of it," she said, sipping her drink. "It's wonderful! I feel it going right down to my toes."

  By the time we'd finished the green parrots we were behaving like we'd known each other for years.

  "Let's eat," she said, sliding off the stool, and taking my arm. "Guillermo has a special dinner for you." She squeezed my arm and smiled up at me. Her eyes were frankly inviting.

  Guillermo was there to see us into our seats. Above us were the stars. A warm breeze came in from the sea. The orchestra was playing a dreamy melody, and trumpets rolled muted notes like balls of quicksilver, round and smooth. The food was as incredibly good as the wine that went with it. We didn't have to bother to say what we wanted. The food came, we ate and marvelled at it.

  Then we danced. The floor was not overcrowded, and we swept around in wide circles. It was like dancing with Ginger Rogers.

  I was thinking that this was the best evening I'd ever spent when I spotted a thick-set man in a green gaberdine suit who was standing near the band. He had a flat, evil-looking puss, and he was watching me with a vicious gleam in his eyes. When he caught my eye, he turned abruptly and ducked out of sight behind a curtained exit.

  Miss Wonderly had seen him, too. I felt the muscles in her back stiffen, and she missed step so I nearly stubbed her toes.

  She broke away from me.

  "Let's swim," she said abruptly, and walked towards the lobby, keeping her face averted.

  I caught a glimpse of her in a mirror.

  She was pale.

  I drove along the coast road to Dayden Beach, a lonely strip of sand and palms a few miles from the Casino.

  Miss Wonderly sat by my side. She was humming a tune under her breath, and she seemed to have shaken off her depression.

  We coasted along in the moonlight. It was hot, but the breeze from the ocean came in through the open windows of the Buick.

  "We're nearly there," Miss Wonderly said. "Look, you can see it now."

Ahead was a ring of palms close to the surf. There was no sign of life, and it looked good.

  I drove the Buick off the road and down on to the sand until it turned too soft, then I stopped, and we got out.

  In the far distance I could see the bright lights of Paradise Palms, and could hear the faint sound of music. The night was still, and sounds carried easily.

  "Pretty nice," I said. "What shall we do?"

  Miss Wonderly had pulled up her skirt to her knees, and began to roll down her stockings. Her legs were slim and muscular.

  "I'm going in," she said.

  I went around to the back of the car, unlocked the boot and took out a couple of towels and my trunks. It took me less than two minutes to shed my clothes. The warm breeze against my skin felt swell. I came around the Buick. Miss Wonderly was waiting for me. She was in her white brassiere and pants.

  "That's a hell of a swim suit." I said.

  She said I was right, and took them off.

  I didn't look at her.

  We walked across the strip of sand, hand in hand. The sand was hot, and we sank in up to our ankles. I eyed her as we began to wade through the surf. A sculptor could have cast her in bronze for a perfect thirty-four, and he'd never have to do anything more about it. I was surprised I could take her so calmly.

  We swam out to a moored raft. The sea was warm, and when she hoisted herself on to the raft, she looked like a sprite from the ocean bed.

  I floated around the raft so I could study her in the moon-light. I've known plenty of women in my day, but she was a picture.

  "Don't," she called; "you're making me shy."

  I came up on to the raft and sat beside her.

"It's all right," I said.

  She looked at me over her shoulder, then leaned against me. Her back was warm, but the tiny drops of water on her skin felt cold against me.

  "Tell me the story of your life," she said.

  "It wouldn't interest you."

  "Tell me."

  I grinned at her. "Nothing happened much until I went into the Army. I came back from France with a lot of sharp-shooting medals, a beautiful case of shell-shock and an itch to gamble. No one wanted me. I couldn't get a job. One day I got into a poker game. I kept in that poker game for three weeks. We shaved, ate and drank at the table. I made five grand, and then someone got mad. I hit him with a bottle, and he pulled a gun on me. Guns don't scare me. I was in the Ardennes push. Anything that a punk gambler starts after that is kid's stuff. I took the gun away and beat the guy soft with it. We went on playing with him under the table. We used him as a rug."