James Chase - 12 Chinks and a Woman

“Why should I?” she said fiercely. “She got what was coming to her.”

Fenner stood by the door. Then he said slowly, “That gives me an idea. You and Thayler were in New York at the time of her death. You two girls were almost twins. Suppose Thayler fell for her. Suppose he got her to that house and tried his tricks. Someone had beaten her raw when I saw her. Suppose you came in and found them, got jealous and killed her. Suppose Thayler got those two Cubans to carve her up and get rid of her. Were those two guys workin’ for him?”

Glorie said, “Oh, run away. You’ll be thinking I’m worse than I am.”

Fenner was quite startled at this new idea. He came back into the room again. “Was that the way it went?” he said. “Come on, did you kill Marian Daley?”

Glorie laughed in his face. “You’re nuts,” she said. “Of course I didn’t.”

Fenner scratched his head. He said, “No, I don’t think that’s quite the way it went. It won’t explain the guy who said she was screwy, an’ it won’t explain the Chink in my office. Still, it’s an idea.”

He stood looking at her for several moments, then walked out of the room, leaving her polishing her nails on her silken thigh.

Outside, Fenner went into the sitting room. A vague feeling of excitement stirred him, a feeling that he was approaching a solution of the mystery of this business. He went over to the sideboard and helped himself to a drink.

Bugsey wandered in. “Got one for me?” he said hopefully.

Fenner jerked his head. “Help yourself,” he said, sitting down on the divan.

Bugsey poured a long drink and stood blinking at the glass. He took a long pull and smacked his lips.

Fenner glanced at him, but said nothing.

Bugsey fidgeted with his eyes, then said cautiously, “She ain’t nice, is she?”

“Who isn’t?” Fenner was thinking about other things.

“Her—in there.” Bugsey jerked his head. “There’s somethin’ the matter with her, or somethin’, ain’t there?’

“What is all this?” Fenner wished he’d go.

Bugsey said, “Oh, nothing,” and finished his drink. He looked at Fenner furtively, then helped himself to another. “Next time you go out, you might take me with you,” Bugsey said. “Somehow I don’t feel too safe alone with her.”

Fenner stared at him. “Why, I thought you wanted that dame,” he said, surprised.

Bugsey’s gooseberry eyes opened wide. “That was the idea,” he said; “but I don’t like the way she goes on.”

Fenner scowled at him. “Listen, pal,” he said. “Would you take a little walk? I’ve got a lot on my mind, and the ups and downs of your love life confuse me.”

Bugsey finished his drink. “Sure, sure,” he said apologetically. “I guess I’ll take a little nap. That dame kind of exhausted me.” He shuffled off.

Fenner lay on the divan, holding the glass of Scotch, and staring out of the window. He stayed that way for a long time. Hosskiss, the Federal man, had been very helpful. He had turned all his information over to Fenner, and promised to try to dig up some more during the next few days. He was even hopeful of finding a line on Marian Daley, although up to now he couldn’t dig up anything. Noolen, so long as he kept to Florida, was safe. He couldn’t be prosecuted. Fenner wondered how smart Noolen was, and if he could be bluffed. He thought he might try and see how he got on.

He was still there when Glorie came in at sundown. She sat by his side.

Fenner said, “Well, you thought it over?”

She said, “Yes.”

There was a long pause. Fenner said, “You’re wondering what’s goin’ to happen to you, aren’t you? You think if Thayler goes, you’ve got to start hunting around for some other man to keep you.”

Glorie’s eyes hardened. “You think of everything, don’t you?” she said.

“Don’t get high hat. I’ve thought about you, too. It’s going to be tough, but there’s no other way out. Thayler’s on the skids, and the sooner you cut away from him the safer it’s going to be for you. You don’t need to worry. Take a look at a mirror. A dame like you won’t starve.”

Glorie giggled. “You’re cute,” she said. “I want to hate you, but you’re too cute. Don’t you ever make love to a girl?”

Fenner said, “Let’s keep to business. Never mind what I do. I’m working now, and I never play when I work.”

Glorie sighed. “I guess that’s all hooey.”

Fenner nodded. This was boring him. “Now what about Thayler? Did you take anything from him?”

Glorie pouted. “Why do you think I did?”

“It’s a guess. Why did he want to shoot you? Revenge? Too risky. He knew you were with me. To stop you talking? Yes, that adds up.”

Glorie went over to the sideboard and opened a wooden biscuit chest. She came back with a small leather wallet. She threw it into his lap. “I took that,” she said defiantly.

Fenner found a number of papers in the wallet. He lit a cigarette and went through them carefully. Glorie at first sat close to him, watching, then, when she saw how absorbed he was, she got up and went out on the piazza. She fidgeted around for nearly ten minutes, then she came back again. Fenner said, without looking up from his reading, “Get a meal together, baby; I’m going to have a late night.”

She went out and left him. Later, when she came back, he was sitting where she had left him, smoking. The wallet and the papers weren’t any longer in sight.

“Well?” she said.

Fenner looked at her. His eyes were hard. “Any of those guys know you’ve got this place?”

She shook her head. “No one.”

Fenner frowned. “You don’t tell me that you put this joint together all on your own.”

He wasn’t sure whether her face had gone pale or whether it was a trick of the light. She said evenly, “I wanted somewhere to go when I was sick of all this. So I saved, bought the place, and no one knows about it.”

Fenner grunted. “You know what’s in that wallet?”

“Well, I looked at it. It didn’t mean anything to me.”

“No? Well, it means a hell of a lot to Thayler. There are four receipts of money paid by Carlos to him. Two IOU’s from Noolen for large sums, and particulars of five places where they land the Chinks.”

Glorie shrugged. “I can’t cash that at the bank,” she said indifferently.

Fenner grinned. “Well, I can,” he said, getting to his feet. “Give me a big envelope, will you, baby?”

She pointed to a little desk in the window recess. “Help yourself.”

He went over and put the contents of the wallet in the envelope, scrawled a note and addressed the envelope to Miss Paula Dolan, Room 1156, Roosevelt Building, New York City.

Glorie, who had been reading over his shoulder, said, “Who’s the girl?” suspiciously.

Fenner tapped the envelope with a long finger. “She’s the dame who runs my office.

“Why send it to her?”

“Listen, baby, I’m playing this my way. If I liked I could turn this over to Hosskiss, the Federal man, and get him to crack down on those two guys. It would be enough for him to start an investigation. But Carlos has been tough with me, so I’m goin’ to be tough with him. Maybe he’ll get me before I get him, in that case the stuff gets turned over to the cops after all. Get it?”

Glorie shrugged. “Men are either chasing women or getting themselves into a jam because of their pride,” she said. “I love a guy who takes on a mob single-handed to even things up. It’s like the movies.”

Fenner stood up. “Yeah?” he said. “Who said single-handed?” He went out on to the piazza. “I’m going to put this in the mail. I’ll be right back, and then we can feed.”