Джеймс Чейз - You’re Lonely When You’re Dead

‘Remind me to take up an option on that when that rainy afternoon comes along,’ I said, and headed once more for Fairview.’

L’Etoile night club stood in its own grounds. The entrance was by way of a carriage drive, guarded by a set of iron gates and a couple of hard-faced bouncers who passed us through as soon as Miss Bolus showed herself at the car window. By the way they saluted her they were old friends. They didn’t bother to look at me.

The building when we reached it was three storeyed, compact and overlighted. On the roof, shining like a beacon, was a star-shaped sign of electric lights. There was the usual green-and-white awning over the front entrance and the usual red carpet down the steps to the drive. The doorman who opened the car door wore a uniform that would have made the late Marshal Goering gnash his teeth with envy.

A hat-check girl in a skirt that would have done better service as a cutlet frill and a bodice that should have been downright ashamed of itself, took my hat and gave me a check and a leer.

Miss Bolus said she was going to the Ladies’ Room and would I wait?

I hadn’t time to say either yes or no before she vanished through a door marked Madames, and left me high and dry in an atmosphere so lush that it threatened to suffocate me. But not for long.

Out of the crowd that drifted in a steady stream through the open doorway, a lean guy with a face like a weasel and eyes like sloes picked his way towards me. I could tell he was going to talk to me by the way his eyes fastened on me the moment he saw me. As soon as he came to rest before me I decided by the cut of his tuxedo he was some kind of bouncer. I was right.

‘Looking for someone?’ he asked in a voice you could have grated a nut on.

‘No,’ I said. ‘Should I be?’

He licked his lips with a pale tongue, eyed me slowly from head to food and tried again.

‘Waiting for someone?’

‘Check,’ I said, and jerked my thumb towards the Ladies’ Room. ‘She’ll be out in a moment — I hope.’

He relaxed, but not much.

‘Gotta checkup,’ he explained in a slightly less aggressive tone. ‘We don’t encourage guests to roam around without their escorts. Members only, mister, and their friends. We get a lot of guys drifting in who shouldn’t be here. Thought I didn’t recognize your face.’

‘I don’t always recognize it myself, especially in the early morning,’ I said.

He scratched the side of his jaw and ran his eyes over me again. I could see he wasn’t too sure of me.

‘What would be the name of the lady?’ he asked. ‘Just to keep the record straight.’

‘Miss Bolus.’

Immediately he looked as if he had bitten into a quince.

‘Oh, her,’ he said, the nut-grater back in his voice. ‘Then you’re in swell company.’ There was no mistaking the sarcasm in Iris voice. He stalked away to third degree another guy who had just handed in his hat and was looking helplessly around.

Miss Bolus drifted out of the Ladies’ Room and joined me.

‘Who’s the fella with the face like a weasel?’ I asked, and indicated with my thumb.

‘That’s Gates,’ she told me. ‘He’s one of Bannister’s musclemen. He’s all right if you leave him strictly alone.’

‘He doesn’t seem to like you a lot. When I told him I was with you he looked like he had swallowed a bee.’

‘Did he? Remind me to cry when I have a spare moment,’ Miss Bolus said indifferently. ‘But never mind Gates. What shall we do?’

‘Let’s drink,’ I said. ‘My nerves need bolstering up.’

She took me through the lobby, along a wide corridor, past double glass doors over which was a lighted sign that read Grillroom , into a big room, furnished with dozens of tub-shaped chairs, a carpet that made you think you were walking on a lawn, and a horseshoe-shaped bar behind which four barmen, immaculate in white coats, officiated with speed and efficiency that was something to see.

We had several drinks. They were no more poisonous than any of the other drinks in town, but much more expensive. After the third whisky I said I thought Miss Bolus had better go away and play poker.

‘And what do you think you’re going to do?’ she asked, making motions to the barman to fix another round.

‘I’m going to snoop,’ I said. ‘Just give me the layout of the joint. Any idea where she might be?’

‘The most likely place is the top floor. Bannister has an apartment up there, and I think there are other rooms on the same floor. If she’s anywhere she’ll be there.’

‘Then that’s where I’ll be.’

She lifted her shoulders.

‘You’ll never get as far. I told you if you’re looking for trouble you’ll find it here, but please yourself.’

‘If that dame’s here I’m going to find her. If someone spots me I can always pretend I’ve lost my way.’

The barman placed two more whiskies before us and I parted with more money.

‘Go ahead,’ she said without enthusiasm. ‘You won’t get far so I don’t see it matters. But don’t get any bright ideas. One or two wise guys have tried to be funny with Bannister and they’ve run into an awful beating.’

‘If there’s one thing I like about you more than another it’s your goodwill and encouragement,’ I said testily. ‘Finish up your drink and run away. If I do meet with trouble leave me to find my own way out. Don’t send for the cops. Brandon is only waiting his chance to get his hooks into me.’

‘I won’t,’ she said, finished her drink and slid off the stool. ‘It’s you who are sticking your neck out, and it’s your neck. I’m going up to the first floor. We can go that far together.’

The final whisky gave me a feeling of tremendous confidence. I told Miss Bolus so.

‘Just wait until you sober up,’ she said unfeelingly.

We went from the bar, down the corridor to a flight of stairs.

A short, thickset man who looked as if he had slept in his tuxedo, stood at the bottom of the stairs, his hands deep in his coat pockets, a bored expression on his face. He looked like an ex-pug, and there was scar tissue on the flesh over his cheekbones. He glanced at Miss Bolus and gave her a curt nod, shot out a hand and gripped my arm.

‘Where’s he going?’ he asked in a throaty growl.

‘He’s coming with me,’ Miss Bolus said. ‘Don’t work so hard. Bannister won’t pay you anymore.’

He took his hand away, grunted and waved us on. We went up the stairs, and when we were out of earshot I said, ‘Is that another of Bannister’s playmates?’

‘That’s Shannon. He used to be a fighter, but he was never any good. If I had to pick a quarrel with either Gates or him, I’d pick one with him. Gates carries a gun.’

‘I think we’d better say goodbye before you have me too scared to do what I want to do. I shouldn’t be long.’

‘That’s one thing I’d bet my girdle on,’ she said.

We were by now in a long corridor, and at the far end was another flight of stairs. Near where we were standing was the entrance to the poker room, and by the look of the crowd business was brisk.

‘There’s another bar farther down the corridor,’ she told me. ‘You can see the stairs from there. Don’t get into too much trouble,’ and with no show of further interest in me she went into the poker room and was swallowed up in the crowd.

I walked down the corridor like a guy who is planning to have fun but is in no hurry to get started. As she had said, another bar, a lot smaller than the one downstairs, was near the foot of the stairs. I glanced in. It was packed solid, and no one looked in my direction. I looked back over my shoulder. A blonde and a tall, beefy man who lurched as he walked, were coming towards me. The blonde had a bleak look in her eyes as she steered the beefy man into the bar. Neither of them paid any attention to me. As they began to fight their way through the crowd I jumped for the stairs. I went up them three at a time, and making no noise. I arrived at the top without anyone shouting ‘Hey!’ or shooting me in the back.