James Chase - 12 Chinks and a Woman

Glorie was standing in the middle of the cabin, rubbing her wrist and looking at Thayler, who was leaning against the door. “It’s time we had a showdown,” he said. His voice came quite clearly to Fenner. “I’ve been a sucker long enough.”

Glorie turned her back on him. “Once I get out of here,” she said unevenly, “I never want to see you again.”

Thayler went over to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. His hands shook so that the liquor slopped on the polished surface. “I’ve done a hell of a lot for you,” he said. “It’s always the same. I know you’re like that, but can’t you try? That’s what gets me, you don’t even try.”

Glorie moved round the room. She reminded Fenner of a caged animal.

“I’m sorry for you,” Thayler said.

She spun round. “You’re crazy. Do you think your sorrow means anything to me?”

“No one’s sorrow has ever meant anything to you. You haven’t any feeling, anyway.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Not that sort of feeling.”

Thayler held the glass in his hand very tightly. Fenner could see his knuckles were white. “After this, I’m through with you. I’m not going to have another evening like this one.”

Glorie laughed suddenly. “I’m sending you away, not you sending me. Shall I tell you why?”

“I’m sick of hearing it. I know it backwards.”

Glorie said spitefully, “No, you don’t. It’s because you’re no good. You never were any good and I waited and waited, hoping you’d get used to me, because you looked good. But you’re a flop. You don’t know anything about it. You only think you do.”

Thayler put his glass carefully on the table. He walked up to her and put his hands on her shoulders. His face was very white. “You know that’s a damn lie, don’t you?” he said.

She flung his hands off. “You’re hoping it’s a lie, aren’t you? You want to save some of your silly little pride.”

He moved forward and, reaching out, he ripped the front of her dress down to her waist. She threw up her hands. “What are you going to do?” she said, her voice suddenly hoarse. “You going to beat me again? That’s all you’re any good at, isn’t it? You can’t take a woman like any other man, you’ve got to do other things.”

Fenner pushed his hat to the back of his head and moved a little further forward.

Thayler stood very still, looking at Glorie. Fenner could see he was trembling. He said at last in a low, jerky voice, “I think I’ll kill you for that.”

She shook her head. “Try loving me instead,” she said. Thayler clenched his fists and took a step towards her. “Get out!” he said wildly. “Get out!”

She put her hand to her waist, loosened a catch and dropped the dress around her feet. She walked across the cabin to the big divan in the corner of room. She sat down, and crossing her leg, undid the suspender and rolled down her stocking. She looked up at him. “Show me I’m wrong ” she said, and giggled.

Fenner drew away from the cabin roof and stood up.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said unsteadily, and turning, he left the boat and headed for his hotel.

Fenner was in Nightingale’s workroom, watching the little man staining a box, when Reiger came in.

Reiger said, “We got a job for you. I’ll pick you up here at eight o’clock.”

Fenner lit a cigarette. “What’s the job?”

“You’ll see.”

“Listen, Reiger. You ain’t gettin’ that way with me. Either you work with me or to hell with it. What’s the job?”

Reiger scratched the side of his mouth with his thumbnail. “We’ve got a consignment of Chinks. We’re bringin’ them over tonight.”

Fenner said, “Okay, I’ll be here.”

Reiger went out.

“Friendly guy that,” Fenner said to Nightingale. “Somehow, I don’t think he an’ I hit it off.”

Nightingale looked worried. “You’re handlin’ that guy wrong,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s mean. You’d better watch him.”

Fenner drummed on the top of a coffin-lid with his fingers. “I’ll watch him all right,” he said. He nodded to Nightingale and went downstairs. Curly was sitting at the desk writing in a ledger. She looked up hopefully as he went past.

Fenner paused. “Hyah, baby,” he said. “That’s a nice face and figure you’re wearin’ this mornin’.”

Curly opened her big eyes. “Gee!” she said. “I don’t get much of that syrup.”

“Never mind. It comes as a nice surprise when you do.”

Curly nibbled the top of her pen. She looked at him with thoughtful eyes.

“You’re in this now?” she said.

Fenner nodded.

“Seen Pio?”

“I’ve seen him.”

Curly sighed. “Ain’t he a beautiful guy?”

“I wouldn’t call him that. You don’t think a lot of him, do you?”

Curly said bitterly, “What does it matter what I think?”

Fenner had a sudden idea. He sat on the edge of her desk. “Wait a minute, baby, don’t get that way. Carlos mean anythin’ to you?”

Curly said, “No guy means anything to me. You keep your nose out of my business, will you?” Her eyes told him quite a lot.

He stood up and grinned. “Sure, sure,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong. I thought maybe you’d like to put your curly little head on my shoulder an’ tell me all your troubles.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” she snapped. “I’ve got no troubles.”

Fenner grinned again and went into the street. So that’s the way it is, he thought. Curly had gone soft on Carlos and was getting nowhere. It was tough to fall for a little rat like Carlos.

He walked for some time through the narrow streets, retracing his steps, going into a bar for a short drink, and all the time checking to find out if anyone was tailing him. When he was satisfied no one was, he headed downtown again.

When he reached the Federal Building, he loitered outside, keeping a close watch on the street; then he ducked into the building and took the elevator to the Federal Field Office.

The Federal Agent was named Hosskiss. He stood up behind his desk and offered a moist hand.

Fenner shook hands and sat down heavily in the chair opposite Hosskiss. He took some papers out of his inside pocket and handed them over. “The name’s Fenner. Here’s my license that permits me to operate as a private investigator. I’m on business for a client down here, and I want you to know some facts.”

Hosskiss examined the papers, frowned, and then said, “Fenner? You the guy who broke the Blandish kidnapping case?”

Fenner nodded.

“"Well, that’s fine,” Hosskiss grinned. “I used to know Brendan. He told me all about it. Why, sure, if I can help you I’ll be glad.”

“I can’t give you all the facts, but I’m looking for a girl. Somehow or other Carlos is tied up to the business. I’ve got an introduction to Carlos which was a fake and I’ve got a hook-up with his gang. I want you to know about this because I don’t want to run foul of your boys. Tonight I’m going with Reiger to collect a cargo of Chinks. We are due to leave around eight o’clock. I thought maybe you’d like to hear about that.”

Hosskiss blew out his cheeks. “Hell,” he said, “you don’t seem to know what sort of an outfit you’re bucking. Listen, if Carlos hears about this you’ll be cat’s meat. That guy is the most dangerous rat on the coast.”

Fenner shrugged. “I know that,” he said. “I was careful. I don’t think anyone spotted me coming here. Why haven’t you clamped down on that gang?”

“No evidence. We know what his game is, but we’ve never caught him at it. We’ve got airplanes and boats watching the coast, but he seems to slip through easily enough. Once we did catch up with him, but he hadn’t anythin’ on board. They’re a tough gang. I’m betting they dumped the aliens overboard as soon as they saw our boat heading towards them.”