Реймонд Маршалл - The Paw in the Bottle

She became aware that Blanche was speaking on the telephone, and because she felt uneasy she went to the door and listened.

Blanche was speaking to Benton.

‘I can’t to-morrow night, darling,’ she was saying in her clear, querulous voice. ‘No, I have to go with Howard to that ghastly dinner at the Everitt’s. And I’m so bored I could scream.’ She paused, then went on: ‘Absolutely nothing. I went to the cinema this afternoon. No, rotten, but I just didn’t know what to do with myself. It’s all very well for you. You have your dreary old factory. Now look, Hugh, can’t you raise some money? I’m getting sick of this life. I’d get a divorce if you’d only put your beastly money affairs in order. Well, do something. You don’t expect me to go on like this much longer. You don’t want to live on my money, do you? I think I’m being very reasonable. It’s not as if I’m asking you to keep me; only yourself, darling. If you could do that I’d marry you like a shot.’ There was another long pause, then she said, ‘Oh, God! I’ve been talking with the door wide open. I suppose that little slut’s been listening.’

Julie quickly closed the kitchen door.

Later she heard Wesley come in, and she hurried down the passage to greet him.

‘Julie?’ Wesley asked as she came into the lounge. He was sitting in an arm-chair, a half-smoked cigar in his fingers. He didn’t look at her and was behaving as if he were blind. This annoyed her. She felt she was entitled to more consider-ate treatment.

‘Yes,’ she said shortly and came to stand before him.

‘It’s all right,’ he said, speaking softly. ‘The police agree you should go ahead as if nothing has happened. See these people to-morrow as arranged and tell them how the safe opens.’ He took a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Make a copy of that. It explains the whole thing. We don’t want them to become suspicious. The police are anxious to catch them taking the furs away. Try to find out when they’re going to break in. There’s nothing for you to worry about. The police won’t take action against you.’

‘I see,’ she said, and waited hopefully. She wasn’t interested in the robbery. She was only interested in their future relations together. Why couldn’t he talk about that?

‘You’re not frightened?’ he asked sharply, mistaking her silence for hesitation. ‘You can go through with it?’

‘Oh yes, of course I can,’ she said, then blurted out, ‘I... I’ve been thinking about what you said last night — about you and me.’

He got quickly to his feet.

‘Not now, Julie. Let’s get this business over first. And don’t say anything to Mrs. Wesley about the burglary. She is not to know. Do you understand?’

‘Oh, damn the burglary,’ Julie thought angrily, said: ‘I won’t tell her.’

‘That’s right. It would be better too if we weren’t found talking together. It won’t be for long, Julie.’

‘Mrs. Wesley has told me to leave at the end of the week,’ she said. ‘Will something be done before then?’

‘If you could suggest Friday to Gleb for the night it would fit in well,’ Wesley said. ‘I’ll arrange for us to be out that night.’

‘Can’t he think of anything else but this damned burglary?’ Julie thought. ‘He’s not thinking of me at all.’

‘I’ll tell them,’ she said. ‘But what will happen to me? I’ll need somewhere to go when I leave here.’

He made an impatient little movement with his hand. ‘That’ll be all right, Julie. I’ll see to that. I think you’d better run along now,’ and he smiled.

‘But there’s not much time,’ Julie persisted. If he wasn’t going to be more practical, she would have to force him to make plans. ‘You said I was to have a flat.’

‘Of course,’ he said, and she sensed that he was controlling his patience with an effort. ‘Of course you’re to have a flat. We’ll have to see about that, won’t we?’ He thought for a moment, his hands clenching and unclenching. ‘You have an afternoon off on Thursday? We’ll meet somewhere and see what we can arrange. Now run along, Julie. I have things to do before I go out again.’

It was unsatisfactory, but there was nothing else she could do. At least she had forced him — unwillingly, she could see that — to consider her for a moment. Well, she’d keep him up to it.

‘All right, Howard...’ she caught her breath, flushed. ‘II may call you Howard, I suppose?’

He had stiffened, and his black-lensed glasses were directed at her.

‘Call me what you like,’ he said, and there was a harsh note in his voice. ‘Run along, Julie.’

She turned at the door and looked at him.

He was motionless, his hands thrust into his trousers pockets, the light from the reading-lamp reflected in the black lenses of his glasses. There was a curious tenseness in his attitude, like a man who hears the whistle of a falling bomb and waits for the explosion.

Wednesday.

The morning had seemed interminable and Blanche had been particularly trying. She didn’t wish to go with Wesley to the dinner that night and vented her temper on Julie.

Blanche’s spite and tantrums and the thought that before long she would have to face Mrs. French made Julie jumpy, and she had a cold, sick feeling that remained with her all day.

It was a relief when Blanche left the flat for lunch. And as Julie was trying to settle down with the newspaper the telephone bell rang.

It was Harry.

‘Julie? I’ve been trying to get you since Sunday. What’s happened, kid? Every time I’ve rung that Wesley woman answered. I’ve been worried out of my mind, thinking about you. What did Theo do to you?’

Julie felt a wave of fury run through her.

‘I don’t want to talk to you, you coward!’ she cried angrily. ‘You let that little swine knock me about, and you’ve done nothing about it. I hate you! I never want to see you again!’ and she slammed down the receiver.

A moment or so later the bell began to ring again, but she didn’t answer, and after a while it stopped ringing.

She was through with Harry. All right, she had loved him a little when they had first met. But now she had Howard, she wouldn’t look at Harry.

She was startled to hear the front door bell ring, and wondered if Harry had come up to see her; or perhaps it was Theo. The bell rang again before she screwed up enough courage to answer the door. But it wasn’t Theo; it was Detective Inspector Dawson.

‘Afternoon,’ Dawson said gruffly and tipped his hat. ‘I want a word with you.’

Julie turned red and then white. He was the last person she expected to see. She stood aside and he entered the hall.

‘Bit of a change after the Bridge Café, isn’t it?’ he said, looking round. ‘Gone up in the world, haven’t you?’

‘Yes,’ she said in a small voice.

‘Saw her Ladyship go out just now. She won’t be back for a bit, will she?’

‘No.’

‘That’s all right then. Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.’

She took him into the lounge and again he looked round, nodding his bullet-shaped head.

‘Very nice. No utility stuff here. Well, well, we can’t all be so fortunate. You’d better sit down.’

Julie sat down. She was glad to. Her legs felt weak.

‘Mr. Wesley doesn’t want his wife to know about this business. Thinks she’ll be nervous. Shouldn’t have thought she was the nervous type from the look of her. Is she?’

‘No,’ Julie said. She was suddenly aware that she was twisting and untwisting her fingers, and hurriedly folded her hands in her lap.

‘Funny things — husbands,’ Dawson said shaking his head. ‘Or does he think she’ll take it out of you?’