James Chase: Vulture Is a Patient Bird

Fennel moistened his lips with his tongue.

“Are you threatening me? I got the idea we are working together.”

“Yes… we are working together, but that doesn’t mean I can’t threaten you. There are two things you are to keep constantly in mind.” Shalik pointed his cigar at Fennel. “The first point is you will leave Gaye Desmond strictly alone. As soon as she came into this room, your disgusting mind began to wonder about her. You were thinking that in the African bush you would have opportunities to behave in the animal way that comes naturally to you. So I am warning you: try something like that with Miss Desmond, and I promise you Interpol will have your dossier from me. Is that clear?”

Fennel forced an uneasy grin.

“You hold the aces,” he said with an attempt at bravado. “You are reading me wrong, but okay, so she is like my mother.”

Shalik grimaced.

“If you will excuse the personal remark… I feel sorry for your mother.”

Fennel gave a hard, barking laugh.

“You don’t have to. She was one of the smartest thieves in the racket. If you want to be sorry for anyone, be sorry for my old man. He cut this throat when they put my mother away for ten years.”

“I am not interested in your family history,” Shalik said curtly. “My second point is this. I want this ring. The operation won’t be easy, but a man of your experience and ruthlessness should be able to handle it. However, if you fail, I see no reason why I shouldn’t pass your dossier to Interpol… so you must understand that I will not tolerate failure.”

Fennel bared his teeth in a snarling grin.

“I’ll get the goddam ring for you, but if so much depends on me, how about some extra money?”

“I will consider that when I have the ring. Now get out!”

Fennel stared at him, but Shalik was reaching for the telephone. As he began to dial a number, Fennel got up and went into the inner room where Natalie Norman was typing. He didn’t look at her, but went out into the corridor and to the lift.

When he had gone, and when she was satisfied she could hear Shalik talking on the telephone, she turned off the hidden tape- recorder and removed the spool.

Garry shut himself in a telephone booth and called Toni who answered immediately.

“We’re celebrating, chicken,” he said. “I’m hungry. Meet me at the Rib Room, Carlton Towers in exactly one hour from this minute,” and he hung up cutting off her squeal of excitement.

He knew he had to give her at least an hour to get ready. Toni was a languid and slow dresser. By the time he reached the Rib Room he was pleasantly high, having drunk four vodka martinis in the bar of the Royal Towers Hotel.

Ken Jones had left him, saying he had a date with a girl friend. They had paused in the crowded lobby of the hotel and Jones had asked, “What do you think of it all?”

“It’s a job and the money’s nice,” Garry returned. “You and I will get along. I feel that. It’s Fennel…”

Jones grinned.

“What are you worrying about? You have Gorgeous and a chopper. I have Fennel.”

“Well, watch him.”

“You bet… so long, see you Monday. Happy bed bouncing,” and Jones went off into the cold, wet night.

Toni, looking ravishing, turned up at the Rib Room just when Garry was losing patience.

“I’m damn well starving,” he complained. “You’re late!”

“I know, sweetie, but I just can’t help it.” She flicked her long eyelashes at him. “Like me?”

But now Garry had met Gaye Desmond, Toni White seemed suddenly a little young, trying a little too hard, and less exciting.

“You’re wonderful.” The four martinis gave his voice conviction.

They moved into the restaurant. As they sat down, Toni asked, “So you got the job?”

“You don’t imagine we would be here if I hadn’t?”

“Let’s order and then you tell me, huh?”

“Don’t say huh… only American businessmen say that.” Toni giggled.

“God! I’m starving too! Let’s order quickly.”

The maitre d’hôtel came over. Garry ordered a dozen 0ysters each with a half bottle of Chablis, followed by the Scotch beef with a baked potato in jacket and a bottle of Batailley 1961. The dessert, it was decided, should be a lemon sorbet.

“Mmmmmm!” Toni purred. “This job must be marvellous. You do realize this is going to cost a f-o-r-t-u-n-e?”

“So what? I’m worth a fortune.” Under the cover of the table, Garry slid his hand up Toni’s mini skirt, but she clamped her legs together.

“Mr. Edwards! I’m surprised at you!” she said.

Garry disengaged his hand.

“I’m continually surprising myself, Miss White.”

The oysters arrived.

“Well, tell me… what is the job?” Toni asked as she cut a fat oyster from its shell. “God! I adore oysters!”

“Don’t be greedy,” Garry said, forking an oyster into his mouth. “It’s never becoming for a young and sexy girl to sound greedy.”

“Shut up! Tell me about the job.”

“Well, it’s a dilly. I go to Natal, and as your geography is as dodgy as mine, Natal is somewhere in South Africa. I lug an American photographer around in a helicopter so she can take photos of wild animals. It is a three week assignment and the money is very acceptable.”

Toni’s oyster hovered before her mouth. She looked searchingly at Garry who avoided her eyes.

“She? You mean you are flying a woman around jungles for three weeks?”

“That’s it,” Garry said carelessly. “Now don’t start getting into a state. I’ve met her. She’s around forty-five, looks pregnant, and is the type who slaps you on the back and picks her teeth immediately after a meal.”

Toni stared at him.

“But that sounds horrible.”

“Doesn’t it? Still the money is good and after all she could have had a beard and a wooden leg, couldn’t she?”

Toni nodded and attacked another oyster.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

There was a long silence while the waiter removed the debris and a longer silence while the beef was served.

Garry stole a look at her face and then grimaced. Hell! he thought, she knows I’m lying. Now what am I going to do?

He said gently, “Toni, darling, have you got something on your mind?”

“Should I have?” She didn’t look at him but concentrated on her beef. “They have here the most marvellous beef in the world.”

“I wouldn’t say in the world. I remember in Hong Kong…”

“Never mind Hong Kong. Please tell me how much you are being paid to convey a pregnant woman around the jungle.”

“I didn’t say she was pregnant, I said she looks pregnant. Not quite the same thing.”

“How much?”

“Three thousand dollars,” Garry lied.

“Well, that’s very nice. So you will be away for three weeks?”

“Yes.”

Toni continued to eat. There was a dazed expression in her eyes that began to bother Garry.

“I hear Natal is pretty interesting,” he said. “It could be quite a trip.”

“Shall we try to enjoy our dinner, Garry? This is the first time I’ve been to the Rib Room.”

“I thought we were enjoying it. Are you trying to be dramatic?”

Her long lashes flickered at him, then she dug into her baked potato.

“Please let us enjoy something even if we can’t enjoy each other.”

That spoilt his meal. Impatiently he pushed aside his plate and

lit a cigarette. Toni ate slowly, obviously enjoying the beef. They said nothing until she had finished, then when the waiter had removed the plates, Garry said, “Just what the hell has suddenly bit you, Toni? This is supposed to be a celebration.”

“I love sorbets. Queen Victoria used to stuff sorbets down the throats of all her over-stuffed guests half-way through the menu. The sorbets allowed them to go on stuffing.”