James Chase: The Whiff of Money

Her sapphire coloured eyes opened wide.

“I’ve heard of it... isn’t it terribly expensive?”

Girland shrugged.

“So-so. The food’s good. Perhaps you would like to have dinner with me tonight at nine? We could meet there.”

She stared at him, then her face-hardened.

“I hate being kidded so you can skip the routine.”

“Listen, chérie, I don’t kid beautiful dolls,” Girland said quietly. “When I invite a doll like you to dinner, she stays invited.”

“A girl can get stood up,” Vi said bitterly. “I’d look wet, wouldn’t I, if I turned up at that restaurant, and you weren’t there to take care of the check.”

“Okay... if you’re that suspicious... I’ll pick you up. Where do you live, unbeliever?”

She relaxed and laughed.

“I’ll believe you. Nine o’clock then at Chez Garin.” She leaned back in her chair, her eyes sparkling. “Do you have abstract paintings to show me after dinner?”

“Nothing like that,” Girland said, meeting her look. “But I do have a beautiful Bukhara rug.”

“I’ve never been asked to do it on the floor before.”

“You haven’t? It’s the rage this season. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

The door burst open and what appeared to be an elephant stamped into the room. This was Benny Slade’s normal entrance. In spite of his 280 lbs., he moved always with a quick rushing charge, surprisingly light on his small feet.

Before Girland could avoid the rush, he was engulfed in enormous fat arms and hugged to breasts that felt like plastic balloons, beaten on the back with hands that felt like pads of dough, then pushed back while Benny beamed on him, his enormous, jovial fat face joyful and delighted.

“Mark, my duckie darling! I’m so pleased! Imagine coming here! Only last night, I was dreaming of you and now... here you are!”

“Throttle back, Benny,” Girland said, escaping from the embrace. “You’re giving me a bad reputation. We have a lady present.”

Benny giggled.

“So like you, pussycat.” He beamed at Vi. “Hello, baby. This is my very good, nice boyfriend, Mark Girland. He’s quite the loveliest man! He...”

“Benny! Wrap it up!” Girland said sharply. “We’ve already met. We know each other. Don’t be so goddamn exuberant.”

Benny’s fat face fell.

“Have I said anything wrong?”

“Not yet... but you are showing signs. Miss Martin is waiting to be shot.”

Benny made a motion of dramatic despair.

“Not now, sweetie,” he said, turning to Vi. “I’m sorry... I’m devastated, but I must talk to Mark. You see Alec. Tell him to arrange everything. You know... he’ll give you you-know-what. Then come back the same time tomorrow, huh? I must talk to Mark.”

Vi’s expression could have frozen an ice cube.

“You mean that little rat will pay me for just sitting here?” she demanded, getting to her feet. “I bet he won’t”

“Now, lovie, don’t talk that way. You know Alec loves you as I love you.”

“Like a mongoose loves a snake.”

Benny spluttered into giggles.

“What a darling! Now, listen, lovie, I’ll talk to Alec. You pop your clothes on and I’ll see Alec pays you.” He wrapped a fat arm around Girland’s shoulders and led him to the door.

Girland looked back at Vi who smiled at him.

“Operation Bukhara at nine o’clock,” he said.

She nodded as Benny half-led, half-dragged Girland out into the corridor.

“Mark! You’re not planning to do anything naughty with that girl, are you?” Benny asked as he propelled Girland by sheer weight down the corridor.

“Why not?”

“She has a bad boyfriend.” Benny led Girland into his private office. “He sticks knives into people.”

“So do I.”

Girland paused to absorb the room which made him blink.

Benny had lavished a lot of care and money in making this room something very special. The big desk had a top of gleaming copper. The lounging chairs were covered in zebra skins. Ornate orchards, growing behind glass made up the walls. The lighting bathed this big movie set of a room in soft pink.

“Phew!” Girland exclaimed, looking around. “You’re doing yourself well, aren’t you?”

“Do you like it?” Benny gave a laugh that sounded like a child with whooping cough. “It took me weeks, darling... honestly. It nearly drove me out of my little mind. But do you really and honestly like it?”

“I think it stinks,” Girland said, sinking into a zebra-covered chair.

“Do you... do you really? I am so glad. I think it does too, but how it throws my clients! They just pee in their pants when they come in here.”

“Look, Benny, I’m in a hurry. I want your help.”

Benny’s face lost its foolish animation. His eyes became alert. He no longer looked soft and stupid.

“My help? Well, of course. Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Some months ago, Girland had fixed a blackmailer who was putting the bite on Benny. He had to get very tough with the boy, but he finally fixed him. Had he not succeeded, Benny would have been out of business: the bite had been a big one. From that moment, Benny was Girland’s slave.

“I’ll do anything for you, baby,” Benny went on. “Ask and you will receive.”

“I want you to look at a film. I’m hoping you will know who shot it, where it was shot and who the man is in the film. This is blackmail again, and urgent.”

“Let me see it. Come into the studio.”

“This is Top Secret, Benny. I wouldn’t show you this film if I wasn’t sure you won’t talk about it.”

“That’s okay, sweetie. I once relied on you. You can rely on me.”

His fat face serious now, Benny led the way into the big studio with its screens, lights, photographic equipment and a king-sized bed mounted on a golden dais on which most of the girls were photographed.

The blond youth who had let Girland in was busy loading film into a camera.

“Run along, Alec, my pet,” Benny said. “Give Vi some money. She’s dressing.”

“But she hasn’t done any work,” Alec said scowling.

“Never mind... we must never be mean... just give her something. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

Alec shrugged and left the studio. Benny shot the bolt on the door.

“We’re quite alone now,” he said. “Let’s see the film.” This was not strictly accurate for Vi Martin had come quietly into the studio to collect her handbag. Alec hadn’t seen her, and hearing Benny and Girland coming down the passage, she had stepped behind one of the big screens. Girland intrigued her. She was curious to know what his business was with Benny.

Girland handed over the 8 mm film. Benny threaded it onto a projector. He cut the lights and threw the picture on a beaded screen.

The two men stood side by side watching the film. Vi took a chance and peered out from behind her screen. She had only a brief glimpse of what was going on in the film before she ducked back again.

When the film was finished and Benny had put on the lights, he said, “Who’s the girl? I know most of them who work in this racket, but she’s new to me.”

“Never mind about her.” Girland sat on a nearby table and swung his legs. “She doesn’t interest me. Any idea who shot the film?”

Benny scratched his ear as he thought.

“There are six boys in Paris making these films.” He perched himself on a stool and regarded Girland. “There’s big money in this rackets but it’s dicey. You never know when you’re going to get the flicks on your collar, but these boys are ready to take chances so long as they collect. Now take that film we’ve just seen. At a rough guess, it’s worth thirty thousand dollars. The way this racket works is these boys make the film, run off copies, smuggle them into England and America where they sell around a hundred dollars a spool... sometimes more. We have a big market here, of course. Each boy has his own particular camera technique. I would say Pierre Rosnold shot that film. I can’t swear to it, but the lighting and the camera angles have Rosnold’s touch.”