Джеймс Чейз - Do Me a Favour Drop Dead

‘I missed out on the dinner. Mr. Marshall was asleep and Mrs. Marshall wasn’t at home.’

‘Well, I am surprised. From what I hear, Mrs. Marshall stays home.’ She paused, then went on, ‘Would you care to have Sunday lunch with us, Mr. Devery? Only my brother and myself. Would you like that?’

Surprised, I thanked her and said I would be pleased to join them.

I had had no idea she had a brother, and casually, I mentioned to Bert that I was lunching with her and her brother.

‘That’ll be Yule Olson,’ Bert said. ‘He’s our only solicitor. He handles all the family business in this town. You’ll like him. He’s a nice fella.’

I wondered if Olson handled Marshall’s affairs: better still Marshall’s aunt’s affairs.

The day’s work went reasonably well. I had to advise two of my pupils to have more lessons before attempting the test and Bert had to fail three on the code.

At the end of the day, we had a drink together in his office and he paid me the hundred dollars due to me.

‘We don’t work Mondays, Keith,’ he said. ‘I believe in a five-day week. What are you planning to do?’

I shrugged.

‘I have this Sunday lunch with Mrs. Hansen. I guess after I’ll go on the beach.’

He eyed me thoughtfully.

‘Do you think you’re going to find it lonely here?’

I shook my head.

‘I’m used to being on my own.’ Lowering my voice in case Maisie, in the other room, might hear, I went on, ‘When you have been in jail as long as I have, loneliness doesn’t worry you.’

‘You could think about getting married. There are lots of nice girls around here.’

‘I can’t afford to get married.’

He took off his glasses and began to polish them.

‘Yes... two hundred isn’t much, but if you like the work...’ He paused, then put on his glasses to look directly at me. ‘I’m not getting any younger. I’ve taken a liking to you, Keith. I’ve decided to make the same offer to you as I once made my son.’

I shifted in my chair, wondering what was coming.

‘My son had big ideas,’ Bert went on. ‘He wasn’t interested in my offer. I offered him a fifty-fifty partnership. It was, and still is worth five hundred a week. The idea was for me to retire and he take over. I would dabble a little in the business, but he would have the running of it.’ A long pause, then he went on, ‘I’m offering you the same proposition.’

I stared at him.

‘That’s really good of you, Bert, but you’re far too young to retire.’

He smirked.

‘I’m seventy-two and I want to pull out. I want to spend more time in my garden. I could come in twice a week to take care of the code classes, but you would handle the rest of the business. When Tom Lucas gets out of hospital, he could handle the driving lessons, you the office. You think about it. You could do worse.’

‘Are you serious about this, Bert?’

He nodded.

‘Don’t look so surprised. I reckon I’m a good judge of men. You could make a real go of this. If you want it, you can take over at the end of the year.’

Who would want a small time Driving school, I thought, when there was a million to be grabbed?

‘Appreciate this a lot, Bert,’ I said. ‘If you really mean it, I’ll certainly think about it. There’s no immediate rush, is there?’

I saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes. He probably imagined I would jump at his offer.

‘No, there’s no rush. You think about it. If I could have persuaded my son to come in with me, I had ideas about setting up a U-drive service and even a Travel agency. They all go together. With an energetic fella like you, and me supplying the capital, it could work out good. You think about it.’

‘I certainly will.’ I didn’t want to hurt him, so I added, ‘It’s just that I’m used to big cities. I’m not sure if I could settle in such a small town. That’s my problem. I think I might... I just want to convince myself.’

He looked happier then.

But I didn’t think about it. My sights were set much higher than to spend the rest of my days in a one-horse town like Wicksteed. I wanted to get into the big league where the real money was.

By the time I got back to my room I had even forgotten about Bert’s offer... that was how disinterested I was.

I spent the rest of the evening after dinner watching the fights on the tube. They were pretty bad and I only half concentrated. I was impatient for lunchtime tomorrow when I would meet Yule Olson.

When I entered Mrs. Hansen’s living room, I found Yule Olson already there. He was sitting on the patio, sipping a weak whisky and water and reading the Sunday newspaper.

Mrs. Hansen led me out on to the patio and made the introductions.

Olson was around fifty-five: a tall, thin, balding man with clear blue eyes and a kindly smile. He shook hands and asked if I would like a whisky or there was gin. I elected for a gin and tonic.

‘I’ll leave you together,’ Mrs. Hansen said. ‘Lunch will be ready in twenty minutes.’

I found Olson easy to talk to. We chatted about Wicksteed and politics until Mrs. Hansen called us to the table.

The ducks were good and I complimented Mrs. Hansen on her cooking. It was while the apple pie was being served that Mrs. Hansen gave me the opening I was hoping for.

‘Mr. Devery has been so very kind,’ she said as she passed the bowl of thick cream. ‘Twice he has helped poor Frank to get home, and only last Friday, Mr. Devery actually had to walk half the way back.’

Olson frowned.

‘I haven’t seen Frank in weeks. So he’s still drinking?’ He looked at me. ‘Was he bad?’ guess so. Deputy Sheriff Ross was waiting for him so I thought the best thing was to drive him home.’

‘I hope he thanked you.’

‘He was sleeping when I left him, but on the way up, he did tell me he was going to be so rich he was going to buy up Wicksteed and he would reward me then.’ I laughed, making a joke of it.

‘He is certainly going to be very rich,’ Mrs. Hansen said.

‘Now, Martha...’ Olson broke in.

‘Don’t be silly, Yule. I know he is your client, but it’s no secret he is going to inherit the Fremlin millions. Everyone knows that. He has told them enough times.’

‘A million: not millions,’ Olson said. ‘You shouldn’t exaggerate.’

‘He did say something about that,’ I said casually, ‘but I didn’t believe it. I thought he was rambling.’

‘No. His aunt is leaving him her fortune, but he hasn’t got it yet,’ Olson said.

‘It won’t be long now. I visited dear Helen yesterday. She’s dreadfully weak.’ Mrs. Hansen turned to me. ‘Mrs. Fremlin and I worked together at the hospital when we were girls. She married this steel millionaire and I married the local schoolmaster.’ She sounded a shade wistful.

‘You got the better bargain,’ Olson said. ‘Fremlin was a hard man.’

‘So she is really bad?’ I said to keep the conversation moving.

‘The poor dear is dying... leukemia,’ Mrs. Hansen said, her face distressed. ‘Dr. Chandler told me yesterday it can now only be a matter of weeks.’

‘Really, Martha, you shouldn’t gossip like this,’ Olson said sharply. ‘Dr. Chandler has no business to discuss Helen with you.’

‘Nonsense, Yule! You seem to forget I was once a nurse. Naturally, Dr. Chandler confides in me, knowing I am Helen’s closest friend.’

‘Well, then don’t go talking about what Dr. Chandler tells you. It wouldn’t surprise me if Helen lasts another year.’

‘Three or four weeks,’ Mrs. Hansen said firmly. ‘Not a day more, and let me tell you, Yule, Dr. Chandler knows what he is talking about and you don’t!’

‘I suggest we have coffee on the patio,’ Olson said stiffly, and that ended the argument.