James Chase: No Orchids for Miss Blandish

Miss Blandish suddenly broke free from Old Sam. She spun around and began to run down the road. Cursing, Riley ran after her. She heard him coming and she began to scream. He caught up with her, grabbed her arm and as she turned, he hit her hard on the side of her jaw. He caught her as she slumped forward. Picking her up, he carried her to the Lincoln and bundled her in on the back seat.

Bailey came up.

“Now wait a minute...”

Riley turned on him, snarling. He grabbed Bailey by the front of his shirt.

“Keep out of this!” he raved. “You’ve landed us in a murder rap! If they catch us, we’ll all burn. From now on, you do what I tell you! Get his body off the road and the car out of sight! Hear me?”

The viciousness in his voice startled Bailey. He hesitated, then as Riley released him, he went back to where Old Sam stood like a pole-axed bull.

He made Old Sam help him put MacGowan’s body in the Jaguar, then he drove the car off the road into the wood.

The two men came running back to the Lincoln.

“You’re nuts to snatch this girl,” Bailey said as he got in beside Old Sam. “We’ll have the Feds after us. How long do you imagine we’ll last?”

“Shut up!” Riley said violently. “Now you’ve killed that guy, we daren’t sell the necklace. Where do you imagine we’ll get money from unless it’s from Blandish? He’s worth millions. He’ll pay anything for the girl. It’s our only chance. Now, shut up!” To Old Sam, he said, “Get moving. We’ll go to Johnny’s place. He’ll hide us.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Old Sam asked as he started the car.

“We’ve got nothing to lose thanks to this sonofabitch,” Riley said. “I know what I’m doing. Get going.”

As the car gathered speed, Riley turned to where Miss Blandish lay slumped in the corner of the car. He took the necklace from around her neck.

“Got a light?” he asked Bailey.

Bailey took a flashlight from his pocket and turned it on. Riley examined the diamonds in the beam of the flashlight.

“They sure are something,” he said, awe in his voice. “But I’m not going to try to sell them. If Blandish wants them back, he’ll have to pay for them. It’ll be safer that way.”

Bailey shifted the light so it played on Miss Blandish. She was still unconscious. In spite of the dark bruise on her face where Riley had hit her, Bailey thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Some dish!” he said, speaking his thoughts aloud. “Is she all right?”

Riley looked at the unconscious girl. His eyes hardened.

“She’s all right,” he said. He stared at Bailey. “And for the record, she’s going to stay all right so don’t go getting any ideas about her.”

Bailey turned off the flashlight.

The car roared on into the darkness.

A mile outside La Cygne, Old Sam said, “We want gas.”

“Why the hell didn’t you fill up before we set out?” Riley demanded violently.

“How was I to know we were going to Johnny’s?” Old Sam whined.

Bailey turned his flashlight on Miss Blandish. She was still unconscious.

“She’ll be okay,” he said. “There’s a gas station just ahead.”

At the next bend in the road they saw the lights of the gas station. Old Sam pulled up by the pumps. A boy came out of the office, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He started to fill the tank. Riley leaned forward, screening Miss Blandish from him. He needn’t have bothered. The boy was half silly with sleep. He didn’t once look into the car.

Suddenly the lights of a car appeared around the bend in the road. A big black Buick pulled up close to the Lincoln. The arrival of this car startled the three men. Bailey dropped his hand on his gun.

There were two men in the Buick. The passenger got out. He was a tall, heavily built man with a black snap brim hat pulled low over his eyes. He looked with sharp interest at the Lincoln. He spotted Bailey’s quick movement and he came over.

“You nervous or something?” he asked in a hard, aggressive voice as he stared intently at Bailey.

It was dark and none of the men could see each other distinctly.

Riley said, “Beat it, fella, nothing’s biting nobody.”

The big man peered in his direction.

“That sounds like Frankie,” he said and laughed. “For a moment I thought it was some big shot shooting his mouth off.”

The three men in the Lincoln stiffened. They looked across at the Buick. The driver had turned on the dash light so they could see him. He was covering them with a shotgun.

“Is that you, Eddie?” Riley said, his mouth turning dry.

“Yeah,” the tall man said. “Flynn’s nursing the cannon so don’t start anything you can’t finish.”

“We’re not starting anything,” Riley said hurriedly. He cursed their luck to have run into one of the Grisson gang. “I didn’t recognize you.”

Eddie shook a cigarette from his pack and struck a match. Riley hurriedly moved his body to screen Miss Blandish but Eddie saw her.

“Some babe,” he said, lighting his cigarette.

“We’ve got to get going,” Riley said hurriedly. “See you sometime. Get going, Sam.”

Eddie rested his hand on the car door.

“Who is she, Riley?”

“She isn’t anyone you know. She’s a friend of mine.”

“Is that a fact? She seems unnaturally quiet.”

“She’s drunk,” Riley snarled, sweat running down his face.

“You don’t say!” Eddie pretended to be shocked. “I bet I can guess who made her drunk. Let’s have a closer look at her.”

Riley hesitated. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Flynn get out of the Buick; the shot gun pointed directly at him. Reluctantly, Riley leaned back. Eddie took out a powerful flashlight and shone the beam onto the unconscious girl.

“Very nice,” he said appreciatively. “You ought to be ashamed, Riley, making a nice girl like that tight. Does her ma know where she is?” He stepped back, blowing tobacco smoke into Riley’s face. “Where are you taking her?”

“Home,” Riley said. “Let’s skip the comedy, Eddie. We’ve got to get moving.”

“Sure,” Eddie said, stepping further back. “I wouldn’t be in her shoes to wake up and find myself with a car load of monkeys like you three. Beat it.”

Old Sam let in the clutch and the Lincoln shot out into the highway. It went off down the road with ever-increasing speed.

Eddie watched them go. He took off his hat and scratched his head. Flynn put the shotgun back into the car and came over. He was a little man with a thin pointed face that made him look like a ferocious rat.

“What do you make of that?” Eddie asked, puzzled. “Something’s in the wind.”

Flynn shrugged his shoulders.

“We should care.”

“You mean you should care,” Eddie said, “but then you haven’t my brains. What were those cheap mugs doing with a babe like that? Who is she?”

Flynn lit a cigarette. He wasn’t interested. They had driven up from Pittsburgh and he was tired. He wanted to go to bed.

Eddie went on, “She’s been socked in the jaw. Don’t tell me a small timer like Riley has snatched her. I can’t believe he’d have the nerve. I’m going to have a word with Ma.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Flynn grumbled. “I want some sleep tonight even if you don’t.”

Eddie ignored him. He went over to the boy who had been staring, his eyes round with fright.

“Where’s your telephone?”

The boy led him into the office.

“Okay, buddy, go rest your ears outside,” Eddie said as he sat on the desk. When the boy had gone, he dialed a number and waited. After a delay Doc’s voice boomed over the line.