Джеймс Чейз - You're Dead Without Money

‘Now, listen, baby...’

‘I’m staying in! That’s final!’

Joey looked at Elliot.

‘Well, Mr. Elliot, so we stay in, but how can we help? I don’t see how we come into this.’

‘That’s where the wonder boy earns his cut,’ Vin said. ‘I can fix the alarms and get the stamps if I know where they are. That’s my job and I can do it. Elliot has to dream up an idea of getting the register from Larrimore. If he can’t use you two, you’re out anyway. This take is strictly for workers.’

Cindy looked hopefully at Elliot.

‘We know Larrimore carries the register around in his inside jacket pocket,’ Elliot said after a moment’s thought. ‘At night the register is locked in a safe in his bedroom.’ He looked at Vin. ‘Right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Joey... do you think you could steal the register off Larrimore if you got close to him?’

Joey didn’t hesitate.

‘Yes... that’s no problem.’

‘Suppose we have a demonstration.’ Elliot got to his feet and went into the bungalow. From the bookcase he took a paperback and put it in his inside jacket pocket, then he came back into the garden.

‘I have a book in my jacket pocket, Joey. Let’s see you get it.’

Cindy was on her feet and moving by Elliot she appeared to stumble and lurched against him.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘My foot slipped. Go on, dad, show him.’

Joey grinned uneasily.

‘It’s gone, hasn’t it, Mr. Elliot?’

Cindy was holding the paperback in her hand.

‘Impressive,’ Elliot said. ‘Okay, I’ll think about it.’

Leaving them, he went to his bedroom and lay on the bed. He lay thinking, staring up at the ceiling for the next hour. Then when Cindy called that lunch was ready, he got up and joined the other three in the small dining room.

‘Got an idea, buster?’ Vin asked as he cut into the steak on his plate.

‘The problem is to get to Larrimore,’ Elliot said. ‘He only goes out in his car. He doesn’t receive visitors, but I have an idea that might work.’ He looked at Cindy. ‘You would have to handle it. After seeing your demonstration I think you could do it. Here’s the idea: Larrimore gets a letter telling him the undersigned — that’s you, Cindy — has inherited a collection of stamps left to you by your grandfather. You have heard dealers offer little or nothing for valuable stamps. You have no idea if the collection is valuable or not. You are asking him as you have heard he is a famous philatelist, if he would look at the stamps and if there are any of interest to advise you. I think that is the kind of bait Larrimore might rise to. You’ll say your grandfather started the collection when he was young. That might make Larrimore think there could be a few valuable stamps in the album. He might invite you to call on him. If he does, then it is up to you to get the register off him. We know the stamps are indexed under countries. If you get hold of the register and while he is examining your stamps, find the CCCP section, you could be lucky to find the number of the drawer which contains the eight stamps we want. This is a long shot but it might come off. What do you think?’

‘That’s bright,’ Vin said, annoyed he hadn’t thought of this himself. ‘It could work.’

‘I’ll do it,’ Joey said. ‘I don’t want Cindy to do it.’

Elliot shook his head.

‘I’m sorry, Joey, but Cindy must do it. With her looks, she would throw Larrimore off his guard. A young girl coming to him for advice will flatter him.’ He looked at Cindy. ‘Shall we try?’

Cindy nodded.

‘Okay. I’ll draft a letter for you to write.’ Elliot looked over at Joey. ‘Will you go down to the waterfront and take a look at the junk shops there? I’m sure you’ll find an old stamp album full of trash that you can pick up for a few dollars. The older it looks the better. Then go to one of the better stamp dealers and buy three or four good stamps. They must be around 1900, not more recent. Tell the dealer you want to give them as a gift and you know nothing about stamps. Pay up to four hundred dollars. We’ve got to make this album a little interesting or Larrimore might get suspicious.’

Joey nodded.

Elliot finished his steak and pushed his plate away.

‘Now you, Vin... how are you finding out who the buyer is?’

Vin’s eyes shifted.

‘You can leave that to me. I’ll find out.’

‘That’s not good enough. We’re working together as a team. We want to know. How are you finding out?’

Vin thought quickly. He realized that without Cindy, he wouldn’t get the register. He had to be careful not to alert Elliot’s suspicions that he planned a double cross.

‘Judy Larrimore knows who he is.’

Elliot cut himself a slice of cheese, then pushed the cheese plate over to Vin.

‘How did she find out?’

‘She read a letter she found on her old man’s desk.’

‘Why hasn’t she told you who the buyer is?’

Vin felt a trickle of sweat run down his face.

‘She’ll tell me. I’ve got to soften her up a little.’

‘And how do you do that, Vin?’

Elliot’s probing eyes made Vin look away.

‘I’ll fix it... leave it to me.’

‘Sorry, Vin, you’re not convincing,’ Elliot said. ‘Let’s get this straight. We’ve just made a deal... remember? We four are now partners. You’re holding something back. I want to know what it is. I want to know more about this babe who, you tell me, eats out of your hand.’

Vin shifted in his chair.

‘She wants money, but I’ll pay her off... I’ll do that out of my share. For a grand she’ll give me the name of the buyer. That’s all there’s to it.’

‘Then why didn’t you say so before?’

‘It’s a deal I did with her. Why should I bother you with that for God’s sake?’

‘So you’ve told her you are planning to steal the stamps?’

Vin took out his handkerchief and wiped his face. He saw Joey and Cindy were staring at him and there was suspicion in their eyes.

‘So what? Look... this babe hates her old man. She couldn’t care less what happens to his stamps.’

‘But she knows you are planning to steal the stamps?’

‘What if she does?’

‘You ask yourself that one, Vin.’ Elliot got to his feet. ‘I’ll get that letter drafted, Cindy.’ Turning to Joey, he went on, ‘Will you take care of the stamp album?’

The three left the room.

Vin hacked a slice of bread from the loaf and cut himself another piece of cheese.

‘I’ll have to watch this sonofabitch,’ he told himself. ‘He’s going to be tricky.’

Jack Lessing returned to his office. Holtz had given him an ultimatum: find Elliot or lose the Radnitz account and since the account was worth many thousands a year to Lessing and since his ten men had still found no trace of Elliot, he was more than worried.

‘Try everything,’ Holtz had said. ‘He’s got to be found and found fast! We know he is in the City. We know he might try to contact Paul Larrimore, the philatelist. As he owes money everywhere you won’t find him in his usual haunts. He must have holed up somewhere. Check every small hotel, even the rooming houses. Look out for his Alfa: you’ve got the licence number. He’s got to be found.’

Lessing put another twenty men, drawn in from Miami and Jacksonville with instructions to check the hotels and fast, then he sent for Harry Orson and Fay Macklin, two of his top investigators. He told them the problem.

Orson, a powerfully built man in his late thirties, was noted for his patience and bulldog determination. Nondescript to look at, shrewd and an easy mixer, he was the ideal man hunter.

Fay Macklin, mousey looking, small, around thirty-five years of age, had a talent for being in a place and never being noticed.