Реймонд Маршалл - The Paw in the Bottle

There was a hysterical note in the voice that startled Julie.

Hewart, coming from his office and seeing Julie looking round the café, trying to penetrate the thick screen of tobacco smoke, came over.

‘What’s up?’

‘A woman asking for Mr. Gleb. She sounds worried.’

‘All Gleb’s women are worried,’ Hewart said, and smiled sourly. ‘It’s the natural state of their health, the damn fools. He’s not here.’

‘I’m sorry, but we haven’t seen him tonight,’ Julie said into the mouthpiece.

There was a pause on the line which crackled and hummed, then the woman said, ‘He’ll be in. Will you ask him to call me at once? Take the number, please.’

Julie memorized the number, said she would tell him the moment he came in, and hung up.

Hewart scowled.

‘I wish that fella would keep away from here,’ he growled. ‘He’s no good to anyone.’

A few minutes later Harry breezed in. Julie waved to him.

‘Hello,’ he said, corning over to her, ‘Don’t tell me you’re pleased to see me for once.’

‘There was a phone message for you a few minutes ago. A woman wants you to call her. She says it’s urgent. Riverside 58845.’

His smile faded and his greenish eyes hardened.

‘Can I borrow the blower?’

She liked him like this. He was no longer flippant, and seeing him now she thought he looked hard and dangerous. She watched him dial the number, and noticed his hand was unsteady.

‘Dana?’ No one else in the room except Julie could hear what he was saying. ‘This is Harry. What’s up?’ He listened, and Julie saw his hand tighten on the telephone. ‘How long ago? Right. Keep your chimmy on. All right. No, stop flapping. It’ll be all right. Yeah, yeah; so long.’ He hung up.

‘Someone found you out?’ Julie asked, watching him intently.

‘Yes.’ He studied her for a moment. ‘Like to do me a favour?’ He looked quickly over his shoulder, then slipped a small package done up in white tissue paper into her lap. ‘Hang on to this until tomorrow, will you? Keep it out of sight. And if anyone asks you if I’ve given you anything — not a word. O.K.?’

‘I wouldn’t do it for anyone else, but I’ll do it for you,’ Julie said, and smiled.

‘Good kid. How about coming out with me to-morrow? I’ll buy you a lunch.’

‘Not tomorrow. I’m pretty booked up.’ Which wasn’t true. ‘The day after, perhaps. You’ll be in to-morrow night?’

‘You bet. Keep that safe for me. ‘Bye now,’ and he went quickly to the door. As he opened it he came to an abrupt stop and took a step back.

Two men came in: big men in slouch hats and raincoats. With a sudden sinking feeling Julie recognized them. Police! She might have guessed that was why Harry had been so anxious to get rid of the package.

Harry was talking to the two police officers. He was smilingly at ease. The rest of the men and women in the café watched, not moving, silent and effacing. Detective Inspector Dawson, whom Julie knew by sight, jerked his head in the direction of Hewart’s office. Harry shrugged and walked back down the gangway. He passed Julie without looking at her.

The moment they were out of sight the men and women in the café made a quick scramble for the exit. In a few seconds the café was empty.

Frightened, Julie grabbed up her bag and was about to put the package in it when she changed her mind. That was the first place they’d look, she told herself. She glanced quickly round the empty café, then pulled up her skirt and pushed the package down the top of her girdle.

The police officers weren’t in Hewart’s office for long. They came out with Harry, followed by Hewart, who was pale with rage.

The younger police officer walked down the gangway with Harry. They went out together.

Hewart and Dawson stood talking for a few moments, then wandered over to Julie.

Dawson raised his hat. He belonged to the old school and believed politeness paid.

‘Good evening, miss. Do you know that young fellow Gleb?’

She looked at him insolently.

‘I don’t, and even if I did, I don’t see what it has to do with you.’

‘Wasn’t he talking to you just now?’

‘He was buying cigarettes.’

Dawson stared at her until she had to look away.

‘Was he? He didn’t have a packet on him when I searched him. How do you account for that?’

Julie changed colour. That was a slip and a bad one. She didn’t say anything.

‘He didn’t give you anything to look after, did he?’

She felt a cold little shiver run up her spine, but she forced herself to meet his inquiring eyes.

‘He didn’t.’

‘Would you let me examine your bag?’

‘You haven’t any right to look in my bag,’ she flared, ‘but if it’ll satisfy you, you can.’ She pushed the bag towards him, but he didn’t touch it.

‘That’s all right, miss. I won’t bother.’ He glanced at Hewart. ‘Well, so long, Sam. See you again one of these days.’ His eyes travelled around the empty café and he concealed a smile. ‘Sorry to have spoilt your trade. Your customers are a little sensitive it seems.’

‘So long,’ Hewart said, his eyes hard.

Dawson raised his hat to Julie.

‘I don’t know any other fellow who could get a girl into trouble faster than Web,’ he said. ‘There may be others, but I doubt it. Good night.’

When he had gone, Hewart gave Julie an ugly look.

‘What’s the idea?’ he demanded roughly. ‘What the devil are you playing at?’

Julie raised her eyebrows.

‘I don’t know what you mean, I’m sure.’

‘I’ll have a word with you when we’ve shut,’ Hewart said, and walked into his office, slamming the door behind him.

Julie was putting on her hat before the chipped mirror that hung on the store-room wall when Hewart came in. They were now alone in the café; the rest of the staff had gone.

‘What did Gleb give you?’ Hewart demanded, coming to the point with his usual bluntness.

Hewart’s aggressive tone and cold searching eyes warned Julie to be cautious.

‘You heard what I told Dawson, didn’t you?’ she snapped. ‘He didn’t give me anything.’

Hewart said, ‘I heard what you told Dawson all right.’ He came close to her. ‘If you can’t lie better than that you’d better keep your mouth shut. Dawson knew you were up to something. If he didn’t guess Gleb had given you the rings, he knew something was on between you two.’

Rings? Julie felt herself go white under her make-up.

‘I... I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Now, look, kid,’ Hewart said, seeing the frightened expression in her eyes and softening towards her. He was fond of Julie, and didn’t want any trouble with her. ‘So far you’ve been a damned smart girl; but you’re not being smart now. Gleb works outside our circle. We don’t do things for him, and he doesn’t do things for us, see? You didn’t know that. I should have given you the tip. All right, I’m not blaming you, don’t think that. He’s too smooth. No one ever gets anything out of his deals.’

‘I tell you he didn’t give me anything,’ Julie said, her heart beating rapidly. If she once admitted she had received stolen rings from Harry, she would be at Hewart’s mercy. What a fool she had been to have taken the package. She might have guessed it was stolen property. She was furious with herself for being so green.

Hewart studied her. His hatchet face was hardened.

‘Listen, this evening a society woman left three diamond rings worth a thousand quid on her dressing-table for a couple of seconds, no more, and they vanished. A couple of seconds, see? That’s Gleb: split-second timing and specializes in bedrooms. That’s his line. Dawson knows all about him; so do I. He came here directly after the robbery, and it’s my guess the woman who ’phoned tipped him the police were after him and he dumped the loot on to you. That’s another of his pet tricks. Never mind if he gets anyone into trouble so long as he saves his own dirty hide. Now, look, Julie, Gleb is rank poison. I don’t like a fella who brings the cops here. I have no time for him, and I want those rings.’