James Chase - You Have Yourself a Deal

Girland stared at him.

“Why don’t you go?”

Olsen smiled.

“I am in a slightly unfortunate position. I am safe enough living in France, but in British territory, I could be embarrassed. It wouldn’t be wise for me to leave the country at the moment.”

“Let’s get this straight. You want me to go to Hong Kong, collect the pearl, bring it back here and fix the deal with Yew at three million dollars? Is that right?”

“You will also bring Erica with you. She wouldn’t part with the pearl to a stranger, Mr. Girland.”

“Why doesn’t she just come? Now the pressure’s off, she could come, couldn’t she?”

“Well, no. It hasn’t been possible to get her a false passport It is believed that at least two of the men at the police control are in Kung’s pay. I had hoped with your connections that you might get her a false passport.”

“Is she like you in appearance?” Girland asked Carlota.

“Yes, very much like me.”

“Dorey gave me a passport and also a marriage certificate in cage you needed convincing that I was your husband. I still have both documents. I see no reason why Erica couldn’t travel on this passport.”

Olsen beamed.

“You see, Mr. Girland, how wise we were asking for your help.”

“This will cost money,” Girland said after a moment of thought. “Have you got any?”

Olsen shook his head.

“Money is something I seldom have, but it did occur to me that your friend Mr. Yew might be persuaded to finance the trip to Hong Kong.”

Girland laughed.

“You certainly are an opportunist. Yes, I should think if he were definitely promised the pearl, he would advance the necessary cash. I’ll talk to him.”

“Then there’s Carlota,” Olsen said. “I imagine the French police won’t let her out of France until they are convinced that she has had nothing to do with Kung. Carlota should return to Stockholm. There are rather pressing affairs for her to attend to. Can you help her to leave quickly, Mr. Girland?”

“Shouldn’t be difficult.” Girland turned to Carlota. “You will have to see Dorey. He may keep you a few days asking all kinds of questions, but if we have our story set up, you should be free to travel by the end of the week.”

“Well, then...” Olsen pushed himself away from the wall. “We seem to have had a very useful meeting, Mr. Girland. The sooner we get Erica back the better. What will your first move be?”

“I’ll see Yew and raise some money. Tomorrow morning, Carlota and I will fly to Paris. I will talk to Dorey, leave her with him and get off to Hong Kong. Where do I find Erica?”

“Carlota will give you the address.”

Girland turned on his charm.

“Now we are partners, Olsen, let me have the tape.” He got to his feet, but paused as Olsen lifted the gun and pointed it at him. With a flash of his dentures, Olsen said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Girland, but I am keeping the tape as insurance. You are far too great an opportunist for me to trust you entirely. Although it would be difficult for you to get the pearl away from Erica, it would not be impossible, and from what I have seen of you, you can achieve the impossible. So long as I keep the tape, then I feel fairly certain of getting my money. If by any chance you attempt a double-cross, I will not only send the tape to Dorey, but I will send a copy to the Press Association. I will make absolutely sure no one will benefit from the pearl except the Olsen family.”

Girland grinned.

“It was worth a try,” he said. He looked at Carlota who was watching him. “Your father deserves to prosper, doesn’t he?”

“He hasn’t up to now,” Carlota said. “But he keeps trying.”

“Excuse me for not shaking hands, Mr. Girland,” Olsen said, waving the gun apologetically. “I will be expecting a telephone call from you. Carlota will give you the number.”

He walked around Girland, carrying the tape recorder in his left hand, the gun pointing at Girland.

“So long,” Girland said.

The bedroom door closed, then the front door slammed and Girland looked at Carlota with a quizzical smile. “You are quite a family. I can’t wait to meet Erica.”

“She isn’t as nice as I am,” Carlota said. “She is prettier, but she hasn’t my charm.”

“That is sad for her.” Girland looked at his watch. “I wonder if I can get hold of Yew. It’s getting late, but he might be in. My life seems to be spent haggling about money.”

He crossed the room and opened the door.

Carlota said, “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

He turned and looked at her, raising his eyebrows.

“Have I?”

“I thought we had come in here to get to know each other better.”

Girland laughed.

“I must be getting old.” He closed the door. “I can talk to Yew tomorrow morning.”

Staring at him, her violet-blue eyes dark and inviting, Carlota slowly zipped open her dress.

Mavis Paul, Dorey’s new secretary was dark, beautifully built and very assured. She had fought her way up to this position from the typist pool. She was efficient, pretty, diamond hard and determined to make good. She regarded Girland unfavourably as he wandered into her office. This sloppily dressed man in an open neck sports shirt and faded blue jeans made her hackles rise. This was no way for an American to dress in Paris, she thought as she regarded him with a cold, hostile stare.

“Well?” she snapped.

“Apart from a slight hangover, I’m not too bad, thank you,” Girland said. He placed his large suntanned hands on the desk and leaned towards her, smiling. “You must be the new recruit. Ever get lonely, baby? I take care of all the lonely chicks in Paris.”

Mavis stiffened.

“How...”

“... dare you make such a remark,” Girland broke in, beating her to it. “Sorry. You are so lovely and you have lonely eyes. How’s the old square? Is he busy?”

Mavis looked helplessly around the office, but there was no one to help her cope with this man who was smiling at her, and she had to admit he did have a charming smile.

“Mr. Dorey is busy right now,” she managed to say and then was horrified when Girland reached over her desk, flicked down the switch that connected the desk intercom with Dorey’s office and said in a loud, sinister sounding voice, “The Russians have landed. I advise immediate surrender.”

She sat petrified. Then Dorey’s cold, dry voice came out of the intercom box. “Is that you, Girland? Come in.”

“See? Simple,” Girland said as he flicked up the switch. He leaned forward and kissed Mavis on her cheek. “Let’s have a date, baby.” He took her solid slap on his face without flinching. He straightened, felt his jaw and grimaced. “Phew! That could have laid Clay on the canvas. You pack a mean punch, honey.”

“Get in there before I throw my typewriter at you!” Mavis said furiously.

“Did anyone tell you that when you are in a rage, sparks fly out of your eyes?” Girland asked, moving away from the desk. “Sparks like brilliant little stars. Quite the most attractive phenomenon I have ever seen from any woman.” He blew her a kiss. “Bye for now and don’t pine for me. We’re sure to meet again.” He crossed the room and entered Dorey’s office.

Dorey, behind his desk, glared suspiciously at him as he came in.

“What’s happened? Why are you in Paris? Don’t tell me you’ve lost her again!”

“Oh no.” Girland sat down and reached for one of Dorey’s expensive cigarettes in the box on the desk. “Nothing like that.”

“What’s happened to your face?” Dorey said, staring at the bright red mark on Girland’s cheek.

“Collision with an irresistible force,” Girland explained and laughed. “It’s an occupational hazard.”