James Chase - Whiff of Money

‘I wouldn’t say I live well,’ Girland said. T get along. I’ve lived in Paris now for fifteen years. There are plenty of ways of making money here and there if you know the right people and know what to do.’

Vi pushed her trout about on her plate with her fork. She couldn’t bring herself to eat it. The pills were now making her feel bad.

‘That sounds marvellous.’ She patted his hand and smiled at him. ‘For instance, tell me, what are you doing tomorrow?’

Completely bored with her now, Girland glanced at his watch.

‘This time tomorrow I will be in Garmisch,’ he said. ‘I have a little deal on there.’

‘Garmisch? How wonderful! What kind of deal?’

Girland regarded her thoughtfully, then grinned.

‘Oh, a deal. What are you doing tomorrow?’

‘I’m modelling for Benny.’

Garmisch! Vi was thinking, aware that she was now feeling sick. She swallowed the rising saliva back. Garmisch! This was what Paul wanted to know! Well, at least, she had learned something. She could see Girland was disappointed in her, and she couldn’t blame him. Paul had said he was an agent. She was scared to ask further questions. She could make him suspicious.

All the fun and joy had gone out of her life now. She remembered Paul’s threat: You now have a hook in your mouth… and it won’t come out. The terror that was gnawing at her had ruined her evening. She had been crazy to have taken so many of those damned pills. Now the sight of the truite soufflee suddenly turned her stomach.

She felt if she didn’t get out at once, she would disgrace herself. She turned desperately to Girland, her face pallid, little beads of sweat on her upper lip.

‘I’m terribly sorry… I’m not well… I—I have this awful liver thing… it hits me…’ She got hastily to her feet. T — forgive me… I’m so sorry…’

Seeing her obvious distress, Girland moved quickly, taking her arm and leading her to the lobby. Garin came to his side.

‘A taxi,’ Girland said. ‘Mademoiselle is not well.’

There was a taxi waiting by the time Vi had put on her coat.

‘I want to go home alone,’ she said to Girland. She couldn’t another second of his company so great was her terror.

‘Thank you… I’m sorry…’.

‘But of course I’ll take you home,’ Girland said quietly.

Vi cried hysterically, T want to go alone! Leave me alone!’ Pushing past Girland, she ran out, got into the taxi and was driven away.

Girland stared after the taxi, then shrugged.

You can’t win all the time, he told himself as he walked back to his table, feeling depressed. His evening had collapsed under him.

The steak au poivre had been removed and was being kept hot. The wine waiter served the Burgundy. Girland received his steak, but he now found he had lost his appetite. A gruesome evening, he thought, but cheered up slightly after drinking a glass of the magnificent wine.

Later, he left the restaurant and got into his little Fiat. He sat for a long moment wondering what to do. The time now was 21.50 hrs. He wondered if he should go to the Poker Club where the game would be in full swing, but decided against it. He wasn’t in the mood, and besides, he reminded himself he would have to be up horribly early to catch the 07.50 flight to Munich. Feeling deflated, he decided to return to his apartment.

One of these days, he said to himself as he drove with the slow moving traffic, you’ 11 have to find yourself a permanent woman. You’re getting bored with looking after yourself… chasing rainbows.

He became even more gloomy with this thought until suddenly he caught sight of a blonde girl running along the sidewalk. She wore a red mini skirt and a tight-fitting white sweater. She ran easily well, and her long legs were slim and beautiful: her full breasts bounced joyfully as she ran.

Girland brightened immediately. So long as there were girls around like this one, he told himself, there must still be fun and hope left in this drab, drab world.

In a much better frame of mind, he continued on towards his apartment.

Vi lay on the bed. She was feeling better. She had only just managed to reach the toilet on the eighth floor before she had thrown up. She was now feeling relaxed, a little cold and still frightened, but better. She began to think of that delicious-looking trout left on the plate at Chez Garin and became aware she was hungry.

The door jerked open and Labrey came in. He stood in the doorway glaring at her.

‘What the hell are you doing back here?’ he snarled. He moved into the tiny room and slammed the door. ‘Why aren’t you with Girland?’

Vi cringed away from him.

I was ill… I did see him… I took too many pills. I had to leave.’

Labrey stood over her. He looked as if he were about to hit her.

Ill? Didn’t you find out anything, you stupid bitch?’

‘Dont’t call me that!’ Vi struggled to sit upright, but he put his hand over her face and slammed her back on the pillow.

‘Answer me!’

‘He told me he was going to Garmisch tomorrow.’

Labrey drew in a long, deep breath, then sat on the bed beside her. He put his hand on her arm, digging his fingers into her flesh.

‘Garmisch, Germany? Are you sure?’

‘How can I be sure?… he told me he was… you’re hurting me!’

‘What happened? Tell me everything!’

As he released the grip on her arm, Vi recounted the meeting at the restaurant and what was said.

Labrey considered what she had told him, then got to his feet. ‘All right. Stay here. I must telephone.’

‘But I’m hungry,’ Vi wailed.

‘Then come with me. I want to eat too.’

As Vi struggled off the bed, she asked, ‘Have I done right? Are you pleased with me?’

He suddenly smiled at her. The hateful, savage expression went off his face and he was again the Paul she knew.

‘You’ve done damn well… at least, I think so. Come on, let’s get out of here.’

At the bistro on Rue Lekain, Labrey left her to order the meal while he shut himself into the telephone booth. He got through to the Soviet Embassy and asked for Malik. Although it was now 21.30 hrs., Malik was still at his desk, plodding through the mass of paper work Kovski had left him.

Labrey reported that Girland was going to Garmisch the following morning.

‘Hold on,’ Malik said. There was a long pause, then he came back on the line. ‘There is only one morning flight to Munich at 07.50. The next flight is at 14.00 hrs. Girland will take the first flight. You are to travel with him. Find out where he is staying. Be careful. This man is very dangerous. I will follow on the next flight. Girland knows me. I can’t travel with him. I will wait for you at the Garmisch railway station. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘Your girl is to come with me… she might be useful. Tell her to be at Orly airport at 01.15 hrs. How will I know her?’

Labrey stiffened.

‘She won’t come… she’s difficult.’

‘She is to come. Arrange it.’ The snap in Malik’s voice warned Labrey there was to be no farther argument. ‘How will I recognise her?’

‘She has blonde hair down to her shoulders. I will tell her to carry a copy of Paris Match.’

‘Very well. She is to be waiting outside Hertz Rental car office at Orly at 01.15 hrs. Your ticket to Munich will be at Air France’s information desk. You understand what you have to do and where to meet me?’

‘Yes. Then tomorrow,’ and Malik hung up.

Labrey stood for a long moment in the kiosk, then bracing himself, he walked back to where Vi was eating onion soup.

He sat down and began on his own onion soup.

She looked up, lifting her eyebrows.