James Chase: No Orchids for Miss Blandish

Riley gave the operator Anna’s number. After a delay, she came on the line.

“Hi, baby,” he said. “This is Frankie.”

“Frankie!” Anna’s voice was strident. The three men could hear her. “Where have you been, you bastard? What do you think you’re doing — walking out on me? How do you imagine I liked sleeping on my own last night? Where are you? What have you been doing? If you’ve been sleeping with some other woman, I’ll kill you!”

Riley grinned. It was good to hear Anna’s voice again.

“Take it easy, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ve pulled a job — the biggest ever, and it’s going to land us in the money. From now on, you’re going to wear mink, baby. I’ll give you so much dough you’ll make that Hutton dame look like a pauper. Now, listen, I’m at Johnny’s place — the other side of Lone Tree junction...”

“Riley!” Bailey’s voice was high pitched with fear. “They’re coming! Two cars — it’s the Grisson gang”

Riley slammed the receiver back on its hook and rushed to the window.

Two cars had pulled up near the Lincoln. From it spilled a number of men. They started towards the shack. Riley recognized the tall, heavily built Eddie Schultz.

He spun around.

“Go up and stay with her,” he said to Johnny. “See she doesn’t make a sound. We’ve got to bluff these birds. Snap it up!”

He shoved Johnny up the stairs, and together they entered Miss Blandish’s room. She was lying on the bed and she started up as they came in.

“There’s a guy out there who’s poison to you,” Riley said, his face wet with the sweat of fear. “If you know what’s good for you, stay quiet. I’m going to try to bluff him, but if he once gets the idea you’re up here, you might just as well say your prayers — there’s nothing else you can do.”

It wasn’t the words that sent a cold chill to her heart, it was the white circle of fear around his mouth, and the lurking terror in his eyes.

Riley stood on the balcony and looked down at the group of men who in turn stared up at him. Eddie was there, both hands sunk in his pockets, his black hat pulled down low. Flynn was standing on the extreme left of the group, his hands also hidden, his eyes cold and watchful. Woppy and Doc Williams stood by the door; both of them were smoking.

But it was Slim Grisson who held Riley’s attention. Slim sat on the edge of the table. He was staring blankly at the tips of his dirty shoes. He was tall, reedy and pasty-faced. His loose, half-open mouth, his vacant, glassy eyes made him look idiotic, but a ruthless, inhuman spirit hid behind the idiot’s mask.

Slim Grisson’s background was typical of a pathological killer. He had always been lazy at school, refusing to take the least interest in book work. He began early to want money. He was sadistic and several times he had been caught torturing animals. By the time he was eighteen, he had begun to develop homicidal tendencies. By then, his mental equipment had degenerated. There were times when he would be normal to the point of being quick-witted, but most times he behaved like an idiot.

His mother, Ma Grisson, refused to believe there was anything wrong with him. She got him a job in a poolroom, cleaning glasses. Here he mixed with a bootleg mob. He watched them handle guns and wads of dollar bills. He got hold of a gun. His first killing followed automatically. He went on the run and for two years his mother lost sight of him. Then he returned. He boasted of the men he had murdered during the time he had lived alone. Ma Grisson was determined he should become a gang leader. She took his education in hand herself. Before he did a job, she coached him, going over every detail with him again and again. It was like teaching a monkey to do tricks. Once he got what she wanted into his head, he didn’t forget. Ma got together several desperate men. There was Flynn just out after serving a four year stretch for robbing a bank. There was Eddie Schultz, one time bodyguard of one of the bosses of Murder Incorporated. There was Woppy, a clever safecracker, and Doc Williams, an old man who had been struck off the register and who was glad to be employed.

Over these men, she placed her son. They accepted him as their leader although it was Ma who was the power behind his throne. Without her he would have been helpless.

Riley was terrified of this reedy creature. He hung his hands on his coat lapels as a token of surrender. He stood motionless, looking down at the men below.

“Hi, Frankie,” Eddie said. “I bet you’re surprised to see me again.”

Riley came slowly down the stairs. His eyes never left the group waiting for him.

“Hello,” he said, his voice husky. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

He stood near Bailey who didn’t look at him.

“Where’s the gorgeous chick you had with you?” Eddie asked.

Riley made a tremendous effort to pull himself together. If they were going to get out of this jam with their skins, he had to bluff these men and bluff them convincingly.

“You didn’t come all this way to see her again, did you?” he said, trying to sound at ease. “You weren’t thinking of making a date with her, were you? That’d be too bad. We got tired of her company and ditched her.”

Eddie tossed his cigarette on the floor and put his foot on it.

“Yeah? You don’t say. I wanted another look at her. Who was she, Frankie?”

“Oh, just a broad,” Riley said. “No one you’d know.”

He was aware that all the Grisson gang, except Slim were staring at him with cold, bleak eyes. He had a sinking feeling they knew he was lying. The only one who paid him no attention was Slim.

Eddie said, “You didn’t happen to pick her up at the Golden Slipper roadhouse, did you?”

Riley’s belly suddenly felt cold and empty.

“That little chiseler? She wouldn’t go to a joint like that. We picked her up at Izzy’s bar. She was stewed so we took her for a ride and a little fun.” Riley forced a smile that looked like a grimace. “But she wouldn’t play so we let her walk home.”

Eddie laughed. He was enjoying himself.

“Yeah? You should write for the movies, Frankie: you sure got an imagination.”

Very slowly, Slim raised his head. He looked directly at Riley who flinched.

“Where’s Johnny?” Slim asked.

“Upstairs,” Riley said, feeling sweat running down his back.

Slowly Slim turned his head to look at Eddie. All his movements were deliberate.

“Get him,” he said.

The door above opened and Johnny came onto the balcony. He leaned on the rail. The men below stared up at him.

Johnny didn’t make enemies, nor did he take sides. He was strictly neutral.

Riley implored his silence with a long, meaning stare, but Johnny wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at Slim.

Slim rubbed the side of his thin nose.

“Hello, Johnny,” he said.

“Hello, Slim,” Johnny said, keeping his hands on the rail, well in sight.

“Haven’t seen you for a long time, have I?” Slim said with a smirking grin. His hands were on the move all the time. They moved up and down his thighs. They fingered his string tie. They straightened his shabby coat. They were restless, bony, frightening hands. “I’ve got a new knife, Johnny.”

Johnny shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Good for you,” he said and glanced uneasily at Eddie.

Slim made a sudden move. It was too fast for Johnny to follow. A knife suddenly appeared in Slim’s hand. It was a thin bladed knife about six inches long with a black handle.

“Look at it, Johnny,” Slim said, turning the knife in his hand.

“You’re a lucky guy to have a knife like that,” Johnny said, his face stiff.