Richard Deming: Tweak the Devil’s Nose

Laurie Davis seemed to be going to sleep. I stopped talking, and after a moment his eyes opened and he looked at me as though wondering why I had stopped. Seeing I had not lost his attention, I continued.

“I’m going to make a guess that Lancaster afforded you the same treatment he did Knight,” I said. “Only when he told you, there was still plenty of time to dump your shares. I’m guessing that he told you only that he’d uncovered a swindle, but refused to tell you what company was involved, because he didn’t want you to dump your shares. He was so honest, he refused to let even close friends have any advantage over the rest of the stockholders, but at the same time he wanted his friends to understand he was acting because his conscience would let him act in no other way, and not simply acting in callous disregard to their welfare. What I don’t understand is why you simply didn’t dump all the stock you owned in the five companies Lancaster had an interest in. One of the five had to be it.”

“Because that would have started a general panic,” Davis said simply. “I had twenty-seven other corporations to consider.”

After thinking this over for a short time, I thought I understood what he meant. His business interests were so vast and complicated, his sudden retreat from five corporations all at once might have created an impression with the public that the whole financial structure was tumbling. And at the very least this would have caused decided stock-market fluctuations. Whereas dumping his interest in a single corporation would have no such effect.

“I see,” I said. “You had to know exactly what stock it was that had a phony value, so you could quietly get out from under and let the small stockholders take the rap. It was such a delicate situation, you couldn’t afford even a rumor until you knew for certain why Lancaster had been killed. You gave me a cock-and-bull story about needing twenty-four hours to repair political fences, and hired me to unearth the motive for the killing. If the motive proved to be something other than you suspected, no harm was done. But if it was to shut Lancaster up because of a stock swindle, the public disclosure of which would knock the bottom out of the stock, you wanted a twenty-four-hour jump on everybody else.”

When I stopped speaking, there was silence in the room for several minutes.

Finally Laurie said, “So?”

“So I think it’s a shame a guy as honest as Walter Lancaster should die for nothing. I have an idea he was thinking of the little stockholders when he refused to take advantage of his knowledge to save his own investment or the investments of other large stockholders. People who had their life savings tied up in this corporation. Call me a damn fool idealist if you want, but like Walter, I’m a champion of the little guy. You’re going to learn the name of the shaky corporation when you read it in the newspapers.”

Laurie’s sleepy eyes became bare slits. “You accepted a retainer to carry out specific instructions, Mr. Moon. And there was nothing illegal about what I hired you to do.”

“Nothing illegal,” I admitted. “I’ll give you an argument about your ethics though. Anyway, you’ve got your facts twisted. I accepted a retainer to investigate a case, and you promised an additional thousand dollars if I delivered certain information to you twenty-four hours before the public got it. My failure to deliver automatically releases you from your part of the bargain.”

Slowly he moved his head back and forth. “I’m afraid I can’t accept that, Mr. Moon.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing else you can do, Mr. Davis.”

“Oh, but there is,” he assured me. He glanced at Farmer Cole, then at Fausta and back to me. “I understand Miss Moreni had an attempt made on her life, and you’ve appointed yourself her full-time bodyguard. Since you’ve decided I’m not a suspect, would you trust her with me if we went no farther than the apartment manager’s flat?”

I looked at him blankly. “Why?”

“The Farmer wants to talk to you privately. It would be pleasanter for all concerned if Miss Moreni weren’t here.”

Fausta looked from one to the other of us suspiciously. “What is it, Manny?” she asked.

“Mr. Davis wants to find out if Farmer Cole and I actually do have anything in common,” I explained. “Go along with Mr. Davis.”

She continued to sit. “I do not like this,” she said determinedly. “You are all acting funny. I will stay right here.”

“Do what I tell you!” I snapped at her.

Fausta’s eyes widened. Ordinarily when you snap at Fausta, it is a good idea immediately to duck, but one look at my face dissuaded her from hurling any ashtrays.

Fausta is one of those rare women who are used to having their way, but instantly recognize when a man cannot be pushed. She rose without further protest, gave me a troubled look and moved to the door.

Laurie escorted her out as courteously as though he were leading her onto a dance floor. At the door he paused to look back at me with no rancor whatever.

“Understand I have no quarrel with your ideals, Mr. Moon. As a matter of fact I admire a man with principles. It’s one of the things which made me back Walter Lancaster for lieutenant governor. But if you insist on tweaking the devil’s nose, you really have no cause for complaint when you find his horns in your stomach.”

“Sure,” I said dryly. “No hard feelings. I’ll ring Murdoch’s flat when I’m ready for you to come after your boy.”

I think he might have let himself laugh had it not required so much effort. Instead he contented himself with a dry final remark.

“Let the Farmer call me, if you don’t feel like lifting the phone.”

After the door closed, Farmer Cole and I sat examining each other a few moments. Finally the Farmer spoke.

“All the boss wants is the name of that firm,” he said reasonably. “You could save us both trouble.”

“You get paid pretty well?” I asked.

He considered the question. “Pretty well.”

“Then why should I save you trouble? Earn your money.”

Still seated, he contemplated me with an almost vacuous expression on his face. Unexpectedly his hand flashed under his coat. On top of catching me completely by surprise, it was the fastest draw I ever saw, at least twice as fast as I could have managed. My fingers were just dipping past my lapel when I froze them there because I found myself staring at the bore of a forty-five automatic.

“I didn’t expect gunplay,” I said. “Going to shoot the information out of me?”

“The element of surprise is half the battle, son. Bring it out easy, with just your thumb and forefinger. Put it on the floor in front of you.”

In slow motion I complied.

“Now kick it over here.”

I toed the P-38 across to him.

Rising from his chair, he walked to the window in back of him and laid both guns on the sill. “No gunplay,” he said explanatorily. “Just a precaution. I couldn’t have you reaching for a gun, and maybe have to wing you.”

“I see,” I said. “Thoughtful of you.”

“Now the program,” he explained without expression, “is for me to make you want to tell the name of that firm. It’s only fair to tell you I know a million techniques, and you couldn’t stop any of them. You got a last chance to tell me peacefully.”

“Stop calling it a firm,” I said. “It’s a corporation.”

Again he moved with the speed of light, but this time not unexpectedly. He intended it to be unexpected, but I have a prejudice against being caught napping twice in a row.

With almost unbelievable swiftness he was across the room and one bony hand was darting for my left wrist for a judo hold. I got the wrist out of the way by shooting a left jab where his face should have been.