Реймонд Маршалл - The Paw in the Bottle

Julie started, looked angrily at him.

‘Well, I don’t want to talk to you,’ she snapped. ‘Go away.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ Harry returned, taking her arm. ‘This is business. Come on, I’ve got to talk to you. There’s a club round the corner where we won’t be disturbed.’

Julie hesitated. If Mrs. French had decided to postpone the attempt she would have to warn Wesley.

‘Oh, all right then,’ she said crossly, and went with him along Regent Street.

Neither of them said anything further. Julie didn’t want to talk to him. Meeting him had spoilt her plans for the evening. She had decided to go to a cinema and have supper down West before returning to Park Way. She didn’t want company. She wanted to dream about her new home and her mink coat.

When they entered the Harlequin Club, which was empty now, Harry asked her what she would like to drink.

‘Nothing,’ she said shortly, and sat down at a corner table. ‘I don’t want anything from you.’

He pulled a face, went over to the bar and ordered a double whisky which he brought to the table.

‘Julie, you’re not still mad with me, are you?’ he asked, sitting down opposite her. ‘I’m sorry this business ever started, but we can’t back out now.’

She made an impatient movement.

‘You said you wanted to talk business. Say what you want to say and let me go.’

He studied her and, seeing the cold, unfriendly look in her eyes, realized she didn’t love him anymore. The discovery deflated him.

‘It’s about leaving you at the flat when the job’s done,’ he said uneasily. ‘I don’t like it, kid. It’s not safe. I want you to come away with me. We’ll hide up somewhere and then hop a boat to the States.’

She stared at him as though she thought he were mad.

‘I’m not frightened of being left,’ she said sharply. ‘And I’m certainly not going with you. I told you last night, I don’t want anything more to do with you.’

‘Now look, Julie,’ he said, shifting forward on his seat. ‘I’ve got you into this mess. I want to get you out of it. I’m crazy about you, kid. Honest; I wouldn’t be crawling like this if I wasn’t serious. I love you. I’d do anything for you. If I leave you in the flat the cops will be all over you. They’ll pin something on you when they know you worked for Hewart.

Even if they don’t, what are you going to do? You can’t live on three quid a week. Come with me and I’ll give you a smashing time. Look, I’m sick of this life. I only want a bit more money and I’ll be in the clear. After this job, I’m through. I’m going straight and I want you with me. Honest, Julie, I love you so much I can’t live without you.’

It wasn’t what he said, but the way he said it that impressed her; and suddenly she turned sick and cold because she realized something she had refused to realize before. She had once loved him; had given herself to him; and now she was planning to betray him to the police. While she had been frightened it had seemed completely unreal: planning something that wouldn’t happen. But now, seeing him before her, hearing him say he loved her and knowing that before long he would be in the hands of the police brought the facts home to her like a blow in the face. For a brief moment she nearly blurted out the truth; nearly told him she had given him away to the police, but the thought of Theo stopped her. There was no turning back. If she admitted that she had told the police, Theo would come after her. There would be no safety for her now until the whole gang was under lock and key.

‘No!’ she said wildly. ‘I wouldn’t ever go with you. But, Harry, I’m warning you; don’t do it. Go away before it’s too late. You won’t get away with it. I know you won’t. Please — please don’t go through with it!’ And before he could stop her she had jumped to her feet and darted to the door.

Harry stared after her, a cold tingle going up his spine. Then he kicked back his chair and rushed after her. He caught her on the stairs and grabbed hold of her.

‘Julie! What do you mean? What do you know?’

She tried to wrench herself free, but he pulled her round so he could look into her eyes.

‘You haven’t talked, have you?’ he demanded, shaking her. ‘You haven’t squealed?’

‘Oh, no,’ she gasped, suddenly frightened of him. ‘It’s just I... I’m scared. It’s too dangerous. I feel it won’t come off.’ Then, as his suspicious eyes searched her face, she exclaimed, ‘Let go of me! Do you hear? Let me go!’

‘Hey, miss, is this fella annoying you?’ asked a hard voice from the bottom of the stairs.

They looked into the lobby. A big man in a slouch hat and raincoat was looking up at them. Harry recognized him as a plain-clothes man from Savile Row station and he hurriedly released Julie.

‘It’s all right,’ Julie said, scared. She ran down the stairs, passed the detective and on into the street.

‘Watch it, fella,’ the detective said to Harry. ‘Or you and me’ll take a little walk.’

Harry said, ‘I’ll watch it,’ and went back into the club.

While Harry was trying to persuade Julie that he loved her, Mrs. French was discussing the last details of the robbery with Theo. She was sitting at her desk by the window. The waning sunlight reflected on her ear-rings, making dancing patterns on her blotter.

Theo sprawled in the arm-chair facing her, his furry hat crushed down over his ears. He never seemed conscious of his looks. It didn’t cross his mind that he could improve his appearance if he made an effort. He seemed to go out of his way to make himself look as moronic and hideous as he could. Sitting there, his ears bent down under the hat, a long greasy strand of hair across his eyes, a sullen, hateful expression on his fat, spotty face, he looked like an exaggerated cartoon of a gangster.

Mrs. French had already arranged about what car should be used for the robbery, and now a sudden silence fell between them. Mrs. French brooded out of the window, a cold look in her eyes. Theo picked his nose, twisting his mouth out of shape as he dug a dirty finger-nail into his nostril.

‘There’s nothing else, is there?’ Mrs. French asked suddenly without looking round.

Theo grinned to himself.

‘There’s the girl — Julie Whatshername,’ he said, and stretched his legs out and regarded his dusty shoes thoughtfully. ‘Harry’s soft on her.’

‘I wonder if she’ll talk.’ Mrs. French said as if she were thinking aloud. ‘This is a big job. It’ll be worth eight thousand apiece. If she talks...’

‘You’re not going over all that again, are you?’ Theo asked sharply. ‘I said I’d fix her: I will.’

Mrs. French watched a car draw away from the kerb opposite. The girl who was driving had a cigarette-holder nearly a foot long clenched between her teeth. Mrs. French thought she looked ridiculous.

‘But now Harry’s gone soft on her I’ll need help,’ Theo went on.

Mrs. French turned her head, surveyed him with bleak eyes.

‘What kind of help?’

‘The way I figure it,’ Theo said, ‘is like this.’ As he spoke, he undid his waistcoat, pushed his hand through the opening of his shirt and scratched his ribs viciously. ‘Harry pulls the job and sends the furs down to me by the service lift. Then he ties the girl up and leaves her. He comes down the front way with the sparklers. I’ll put the furs in the car, but Dana must do the driving. It’s a three-handed job now, see?’

Mrs. French saw all right, but she made out she didn’t.

‘I don’t want Dana mixed up in this,’ she said brusquely. ‘You’ve always driven before.’

Theo stared at her.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ he demanded crossly. ‘I’ve got to look after the girl, haven’t I?’ His nails clawed at his ribs again.