James Chase - No Orchids for Miss Blandish

Brennan paused as he was about to start the car.

“How the hell do you figure that one out?” he demanded.

“It’s not so hard to figure. Ma gave out that Schulberg gave her the money. Schulberg deals in hot money. He has probably cleaned up with the ransom. Johnny told me just before he was knocked off that Grisson and his gang were with Riley at Johnny’s place. Somehow Grisson must have found out that Riley had snatched the Blandish girl. He would know the only place Riley could take her would be to Johnny’s. He and his gang went there, knocked Riley and the other two off and took the girl. Blandish paid the ransom to Grisson, thinking he was Riley. It adds up. As soon as the ransom was paid, Ma Grisson opens the Paradise Club. What a sweet setup for them! Riley gets the blame and they are sitting pretty.”

“Where’s the proof?” Brennan asked. “Even if my boys do dig up Riley and the other two, it still doesn’t mean Grisson killed them. With Johnny dead, we haven’t any proof.”

Fenner nodded.

“That’s right. We’ll have to find proof. Let’s not go off half-cocked on this. Know what I think?”

“What do you think, superman?” Brennan asked sarcastically. He was pushing the car hard and they were roaring down the long main road.

“I think the Blandish girl is in the Paradise Club,” Fenner said. As Brennan turned to stare at him, Fenner yelled, “Look where you’re driving!”

Brennan slammed on his brakes and drew up by the side of the road.

“What are you getting at?”

“Remember Doyle said there was a room upstairs in the club kept locked. It’s my bet she’s in there!”

“We’ll soon find out,” Brennan said, starting the car again.

“Will we?” Fenner said thoughtfully. “The club is like a fort. It’ll take time to bust in. By the time we do get in the girl will either be dead or removed. Blandish wants her alive. If we’re going to bring her out alive, we’ll have to handle this with kid gloves. We’ve got to use our heads, Brennan.”

“Okay, so we use our heads,” Brennan said. “Where will that get us?”

“I don’t know,” Fenner said and lit a cigarette. “Let me think about it.”

For the next half hour Brennan continued to drive fast while Fenner coped with his aching head and his thoughts. As Brennan slowed down before entering a small farming town, Fenner said, “Well pick up Anna Borg. She knows that Grisson and Riley met at Johnny’s. She’s our only witness. We don’t want her knocked off. Besides being our only witness, she spends a lot of time in the club. Maybe she knows the Blandish girl is there. Maybe she doesn’t know the Grisson gang wiped out Riley. If we tell her, there’s a chance she might rat on them.”

Brennan pulled up outside a drug store.

“I’ll get things going,” he said.

Fenner watched him enter a phone booth. He looked at his watch. The time was a little after six p.m. They were still three hours’ driving distance from Kansas City.

He wondered if the Blandish girl really was in the club. If she was, she had been in the hands of the gang for over three months.

He grimaced.

What had happened to her during that time? He thought of Slim Grisson and he shook his head.

Brennan came out and got into the car.

“I’ve given orders for Anna Borg to be picked up. A couple of the boys will be watching the club.”

Fenner grunted.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Brennan started the car and drove fast out of the town and onto the highway.

A little after five o’clock, Rocco left his apartment and walked briskly to the main street. He had rested on his vast bed for an hour after Maisey had gone.

The mysterious girl Maisey had told him about intrigued him. He had decided he would investigate. He knew Slim, Flynn and Woppy wouldn’t be back until after nine. At this hour, it was unlikely Eddie Schultz would be in the club. That left only Ma Grisson and Doc Williams to worry about. He would have to be careful, but he felt pretty sure he could handle Doc if he had to. Ma scared him, but with any luck he wouldn’t run into her.

It was Saturday, and the warehouse next to the club was closed. Maisey had told him there was an entrance to the club through the warehouse. This entrance he intended to find.

The building next to the warehouse was a shabby hotel. He knew the owner, a fat Greek whose name was Nick Papolos. He told Nick with a wink that he wanted to admire the view from the hotel roof. Nick stared at him, shrugged his fat shoulders and told him to help himself.

“Just don’t get me into no trouble,” the Greek said.

Rocco patted his arm.

“You know me, Nick,” he said. “Strictly no trouble.”

He took the elevator to the top floor, opened a skylight and got onto the flat roof. From there it was easy to enter the warehouse. It took him twenty minutes of careful searching before he found the hidden door leading into the club. It took him only a few seconds to pick the lock and get the door open. He stepped into a dark passage, gun in hand, his heart thumping. At the end of the passage was another locked door. This he opened without difficulty, then he found himself looking into a large, well-furnished room with a big television set facing him. Across the room was a door, and for a long moment, he stood hesitating. He moved silently to the door and listened against the panel. Hearing nothing, he opened the door and peered into the ornate bedroom.

Miss Blandish was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring with blank eyes at the floor. She had on a white cotton dress that Slim had bought her. A cigarette burned between her slim white fingers.

Rocco stared at her. He had never seen a more beautiful girl. There was something familiar about her face. He felt almost sure he had seen this girl somewhere before.

He moved silently into the room.

Miss Blandish didn’t look up. She suddenly let the cigarette slip out of her fingers. It fell on the carpet and listlessly, she put her foot on it.

“Hello,” Rocco said softly. “What are you doing here?”

The heavy drugged eyes stared at him.

“Please go away,” she said.

Her pinpoint pupils told Rocco plenty.

“What’s your name, baby?” he asked.

“My name?” She frowned. “I don’t know. Please go away. He wouldn’t like you to be here.”

Where had he seen this girl before? Rocco asked himself. He looked at the red-gold hair. Then a surge of excitement ran through him. In his mind, he saw the dozens of pictures that had appeared in all the newspapers of this girl. This redhead, sitting so lifelessly on the bed, was John Blandish’s daughter! How the hell had Grisson got hold of her? He was so excited he could scarcely breathe. What a chance to level his score! Besides, there was a reward of fifteen thousand dollars for this girl!

“Your name’s Blandish, isn’t it?” he said, trying to control his shaking voice. “You were kidnapped nearly four months ago. Don’t you remember?”

She peered at him.

“Blandish?” she repeated. “That’s not my name.”

“Yes, it is,” Rocco said. “You’ll remember in a little while. Come on, baby, you and me are going for a walk.”

“I don’t know who you are. Please go away.”

Rocco put his hand on her arm, but she jerked back, her face tightening with fear.

“Don’t touch me!”

The shrill tone of her voice brought Rocco out in a sweat. Any moment Doc Williams or Ma Grisson could walk in. He was determined to get the girl to his place. He was tempted to knock her unconscious and carry her out, but he knew this would be impossible in broad daylight.

“Come on,” he said, his voice hardening. “Slim’s waiting for you. I’ve got to take you to him.”