James Chase: Fast Buck

Those were the immediate thoughts that had chased through his mind when the Rajah had casually mentioned the sum, but as the Rajah went on talking, Kile’s latent shrewdness and caution asserted themselves. The undertaking was impossible. The Rajah was only offering this sum because he knew he would never be called upon to pay it. The whole thing was an absurd pipe-dream that no one in his right mind could or would take seriously.

Eve had apparently convinced the Rajah that if anyone could get the jewels, Kile could. How she had done it, what arguments she had used, Kile couldn’t think, but it was obvious the Rajah was impressed by him, even before they met.

‘I don’t expect miracles,’ the Rajah had said, holding Eve’s hand and looking at Kile as they stood at the door at the end of the interview. I’m afraid you are setting yourself a very difficult task. But I believe in supporting the long chance. I will pay up to five thousand to cover the expenses of — shall we say — an examination of the prospects. Naturally you will require help, and you will have to pay well. I think five thousand should be enough to start with. The amount will be paid into your bank tomorrow.’

Kile had recoiled, like a man seeing the ground suddenly open before his feet. If once he accepted the money, he would be seriously committed to this fantastic plan. He wasn’t fool enough to imagine the Rajah would give him such a sum without extracting full value for his money.

But Eve hadn’t given him a chance to refuse. She had told the Rajah the name of Kile’s bank, prevented Kile from breaking into the conversation, and got him out of the Rajah’s suite before he could gather his startled wits together.

On his way down to the hotel lobby, he had protested, but again she had reassured him.

‘We needn’t spend it,’ she had said. ‘If we can’t think of a plan we can return it to him. It won’t do any harm, Preston, for your bank to get that money; even if it is only a loan.’

When they had got back to Eve’s apartment, Kile had patiently pointed out the impossibility of such a task.

‘The jewels have been missing for fifteen years,’ he had said. ‘The trail’s cold. Every detective in the country has been searching for them, and as far as I know, is still searching for them. What chance have we got?’

‘That’s something we have to think about,’ she had said briskly. ‘I’m going to take a bath. I think better lying in hot water. Sit down and think, too, Preston. It’s worth five hundred thousand, and that’s a lot of money.’

He hadn’t thought. The whole thing was absurd and fantastic. Admittedly the money would be a life saver, but he couldn’t search the whole country like a damned detective. He hadn’t the faintest idea where the jewels might be.

He had finished his second whisky and was pouring a third when Eve came out of the bathroom. She was wearing a lilac-coloured silk wrap that suited her and emphasised the gold in her hair and the blue in her eyes. She went over to the dressing-table and sat down.

‘Is that your third or fourth?’ she asked, beginning to brush her hair.

He was immediately furious with her. What right had she to say such a thing to him?

‘Oh, be quiet!’ he shouted, banging his fist on the table. ‘God damn it! I won’t be questioned like this! I’l drink as much as I like!’

She went on brushing her hair, her face thoughtful, her eyes serious.

‘We’re going to talk to Rico tonight,’ she said. ‘It’s important that you shouldn’t be drunk, Preston.’

Kile set down his glass, took hold of Eve by her arms and pulled her to her feet. He gave her a hard, little shake. His face was red and congested, and his bloodshot eyes gleamed furiously.

‘I won’t be spoken to like this!’ he said in a loud bul ying voice. ‘I’m master here, and you’d better remember it! I’m not seeing Rico tonight. And if I want to get drunk, I’l get drunk!’

‘You’re hurting me, Preston,’ she said, and her steady, quiet look was like a douche of cold water in his face.

He released her with an impatient exclamation, turned and walked heavily across the room to stand with his back to her, his hands thrust deep in his trouser pockets.

‘Don’t be like this, Preston,’ she said patiently. ‘I only want to help you. You know as well as I do if you don’t take yourself in hand the crash is bound to come. This is your chance. Five hundred thousand!

It’s a tremendous sum. Think what you could do with it!’

He turned.

‘What’s the use of talking like that?’ he snapped. ‘It’s impossible to find those jewels. It’s ridiculous to think about it. Why do you imagine he offered such a sum? He knows perfectly well he won’t have to pay out.’

‘He said it was a long chance. Well, he’s not the only one who’s wil ing to back a long chance. I know it won’t be easy, but it’s not impossible.’ While she was speaking, Eve had got up and walked over to sit on the bed. She began to pull on her stockings, and Kile watched her, fascinated by her beauty and her swift movements. ‘I have an idea. We must see Rico tonight. We’ve got to have someone to do the dangerous work. He might know of someone who would do it.’

Kile came over and sat on the bed by her side. He was thinking that of all the women he had had in this apartment she was by far the most beautiful.

‘Dangerous work?’ he repeated, frowning. ‘What dangerous work?’

She stood up and undid her wrap.

‘Let me get dressed, darling, and on the way to the club I’l tel you my idea. It’s get ing late, and we must talk to Rico.’

She slipped out of the wrap and reached for a flimsy underthing. Kile’s eyes dwelt on her naked loveliness. He reached out and caught her arm, pulling her down beside him.

‘You’re too beautiful to bother your head about such things,’ he said, his heart beginning to beat violently and jerkily. ‘I’m not going out tonight: nor are you.’

She made a quick, impatient movement to break free, but immediately checked it. Instead, she slipped her arms around his neck and hid her face against his silken lapel, so he couldn’t see her expression of loathing and revulsion.

Although it was after nine-twenty, a light still showed through the glass panel of the door leading to the inner office of the International Detective Agency. That meant Harmon Purvis hadn’t yet gone home.

Ed Dallas pushed open the door and looked into the large airy office.

Purvis, a tall stick of a man, sat behind a desk, busy with a pile of papers, a pencil held between his teeth. He glanced up, nodded briefly, laid down his papers and took the pencil out of his mouth.

‘Come in,’ he said, waving to a chair by the desk. ‘I guessed you’d be in so I waited for you.’

Dallas sat down, laid his hat on the floor, and ran his fingers through his crew-cut brown hair.

‘I might have something with those two,’ he said. ‘The guy’s Preston Kile. Ever heard of him?’

Purvis thought a moment, then nodded.

‘That’s the San Francisco market manipulator,’ he said, putting his finger-tips together and staring up at the ceiling. ‘About two years ago he pul ed a very shady deal. A bunch of brokers decided to chip in and cover him rather than scare the market with a scandal. They forced him to get out of the market and stay out. He came here…’

‘I know, I know,’ Dal as interrupted. ‘I thought I was going to tell you. I got the dope from Favell.’

It never ceased to surprise him how much Purvis seemed to know. There wasn’t anyone in town who was connected in some way or the other with shady deals or crime that Purvis didn’t know the details about. He could trot out his information as easily as the most complicated card index system, and as fast.