James Chase - No Orchids for Miss Blandish

He closed the door and tiptoed across to the woman. He stood close to her, waiting. She must have sensed she was no longer alone for she suddenly straightened and whirled around.

Eddie pounced on her; one hand clamped over her mouth, the other gripped her wrists.

“Make a sound and I’ll break your neck!” he said, holding her against him.

She stared up at him. She was only a kid: she couldn’t have been more than eighteen. Her blue eyes opened very wide. She looked so scared he thought she was going to faint.

“Take it easy,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you if you don’t make a noise.”

She leaned heavily against him, closing her eyes. He could hear the sound of voices and tramping of feet coming along the passage.

He gave the girl a little shake.

“The cops are looking for me,” he said. “You’ll be all right if you don’t make a noise and do what I tell you. Come on, get into bed.”

He carried her over to the bed and slid her under the sheet.

“Don’t make a sound,” he warned as he took his hand from her mouth.

“I–I won’t,” she said breathlessly, staring up at him.

“Good girl.”

He turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness. He lay down on the floor by the side of the bed away from the door.

“If they come in here and find me,” he said, drawing his gun, “there’s going to be shooting and you could get damaged. So don’t start yelling.”

“I won’t,” the girl said, more confidence in her voice now.

He could hear doors opening and people talking excitedly. It sounded as if the cops were going from room to room.

“It’s up to you, baby,” he said from the floor, “to stall them if they come in here.” He slid his hand under the sheet and took her hand in his. He was surprised she squeezed his hand and he winked to himself in the darkness. “You don’t have to be scared of me.”

“I’m not scared,” she said.

They waited. He could hear her fast breathing and his own heart beats.

Suddenly heavy footfalls sounded outside. The door opened cautiously. Eddie lifted his gun. The girl gripped his hand hard. The beam of a powerful flashlight swung around the room. The girl gave a little scream. “Who is it?” she quavered. The light fell on her.

“Police,” a voice growled from behind the light. “You alone in here?”

“Yes... what is it?”

“A couple of gunmen loose,” the cop said. “Nothing for you to worry about. You should lock your door, miss.”

The door closed and the heavy footsteps receded.

Eddie drew in a deep breath. He let go of the girl’s hand, got to his feet and went over to the door and turned the key in the lock. He came back to the bed and sat on the floor.

“Thanks, baby,” he said. “You did a nice job. I’ll stay here until it’s quiet, then I’ll beat it. Relax, you don’t have to worry about me.”

The girl didn’t say anything. She stared curiously at him, just able to make him out in the dim light coming through the uncurtained window.

After some minutes, Eddie found the floor getting hard. He got up and sat on the end of the bed.

“I’m getting calluses,” he said, grinning. “You get off to sleep if you want to.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” the girl said. “You scared the life out of me, but I’m not so scared now.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie said. “I scared the life out of myself too.”

The sounds in the building had died down. Some of the police cars were moving off. He wondered if Flynn had got away. He guessed he had. Flynn knew how to take care of himself.

After a long pause, the girl said, “It was just like a movie. All that shooting... if you hadn’t held my hand I would have screamed.”

Eddie looked at her with growing interest.

“I’ll hold it again any time you like.”

She gave a nervous giggle.

“I don’t feel like screaming now.”

He got up and looked out of the window. The crowded street was now deserted. The last of the police cars were moving away.

“Well, I guess I can go. Looks like the show is over.” He came over to the bed and smiled at the girl. “Thanks a lot, baby. You were swell.”

She half sat up in the bed.

“Are you sure it’s safe to go?”

“Yeah. I can’t stay here all night.”

She settled down in the bed.

“Can’t you?” She spoke so softly he scarcely heard what she said, but he did hear. He suddenly grinned.

“Well, there’s no law against it, is there? Do you want me to stay?”

“Now you’re making me blush,” the girl said and hid her face. “What a question to ask a lady.”

Two days later, an advertisement offering kegs of white paint appeared in the Tribune.

Ma Grisson tossed the newspaper to Doc.

“The money’s ready,” she said. “Now we’ve got to collect it. It’ll be a soft job, Flynn and Woppy can handle it. You write to Blandish, Doc. Tell him to drive to the Maxwell filling station on Highway 71. He’ll know where it is. He’s to get to the Blue Hills golf course at one o’clock.” She looked over at Flynn and Woppy who were listening. “That’s where you boys will be waiting. He is to throw the suitcase out of the car window when he sees a light flashing. He’s not to stop. Warn him he’ll be watched from the moment he leaves his house. If he cooperates with the police or tries anything smart, the girl will suffer.” To Flynn and Woppy, she went on, “You won’t have any trouble. Blandish will be too scared something might happen to the girl. The road’s straight for miles. If you’re followed, drop the suitcase in the road so they can see it, and keep moving. They won’t come after you because of the girl.”

“Tomorrow night?” Flynn asked.

“That’s it.”

Flynn stuck a cigarette on his lower lip.

“Didn’t you say the girl was to be knocked off, Ma?” he said, staring at Ma. “What are we keeping her for?”

Ma stiffened. Her little eyes turned hard.

“She’ll go when we get the money.”

“Why wait?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Ma snarled. “Shut your loose mouth!”

Flynn looked over at Doc who couldn’t meet his direct stare. Doc got up, muttered something under his breath and left the room.

“What’s happening to the girl, Ma?” Flynn asked. “I saw that old quack go into her room last night with a hypo.”

Ma’s face turned purple.

“Did you? If you’ve nothing better to do than to snoop around here, I’ll have to find you something to do.”

The tone of her voice alarmed Flynn.

“Okay, okay,” he said hastily. “I was only shooting the breeze.”

“Shoot it to someone who wants to listen,” Ma snarled. “Get out of here!”

Flynn hurriedly left the room. After a moment’s uneasy hesitation, Woppy followed him. The two men went upstairs and into Eddie’s room.

Eddie was in bed, reading the Sunday comics.

“Hi, you misbegotten freaks!” he said cheerfully. “What’s cooking?”

Flynn sat on the foot of the bed. Woppy straddled a chair, laying his fat arms along the back.

“We’re collecting the dough tomorrow night,” Woppy said. “The ad’s in the Tribune.”

“A million bucks!” Eddie said, lying back on the dirty pillow. “Think of it! At last, we’re in the money!”

“What are you going to do with your cut when you get it?” Woppy asked.

“I’m going to buy an island in the South Seas,” Eddie said, “and I’m going to stock it with beautiful girls in grass skirts.”

Woppy laughed, slapping his fat thigh.

“You and your women! Me, I’m going to start a restaurant. My spaghetti’s going to be world famous.”