James Chase - No Business Of Mine

these last days digging up information. How did you get on to

Corridan?”

“Suppose I tell you the set-up from the beginning?” I suggested.

“Then even Crystal, dumb as she is, will be able to follow. Ouch!”

I massaged my shin, told Crystal to behave herself, hurried on

before there were more interruptions.

“As you know, Jack Bradley, to recoup his losses, installed two

roulette tables in the Club,” I began. “There’s no future in that kind of

racket unless you have adequate protection. Bradley was smart

enough to realize that, and he looked around for a likely bird in the

police force who’d give him this protection.”

“And he picked on Corridan?” Ullman said.

“Don’t interrupt,” Crystal reproved him. “My father says that

people who interrupt . . .”

“Never mind your father now,” I broke in hastily. “Just pipe down,

honey, and let me do the talking.” I looked over at Bix. “And that’s my

knee you’re fondling under the table just in case you thought it was

Crystal’s.”

Bix snatched his hand away, had the grace to blush. He looked at

Crystal reproachful y. She giggled.

“Yes, he picked on Corridan,” I went on as Ullman began to scowl

again. “Corridan was, at that time, a rising star at the Yard, and was

handling the club rackets. Bradley offered him a big cut of his profits if

he’d tip him when a raid was likely to be made. It was easy money;

Corridan fell for it. Then George Jacobi appeared on the scene . . . .”

“How much better this’d be if it was illustrated with lantern

slides,” Bix said regretfully. “Imagine a slide depicting the arrival of

George Jacobi in a snowstorm. How gripping that’d be.”

“Especially if the slide was upside-down,” Crystal said, giggling

over the hors d’oeuvre.

“I’ll turn you upside-down and . . .” I snarled.

“Never mind these cretins,” Ullman said. “Go on, for God’s sake.”

“Jacobi was an expert jewel thief and was planning to steal

Allenby’s anti-invasion nest-egg, worth fifty thousand pounds,” I said,

scowling at Crystal, who made faces at me. “But Jacobi knew he

couldn’t handle a job as big as that on his own. . . .”

“The weak sister!” Bix said in disgust. “If it’d been half that

amount I’d’ve done it.”

“So would I,” Crystal chimed in. “I’d’ve done it for a quarter the

amount.”

“And he suggested Bradley should come in on it with him,” I went

on, ignoring the interruption. “Bradley thought it’d be an idea to get

the police on his side, and he put the proposition to Corridan, offering

him a third of the spoils if he acted as inside man after the robbery,

steering suspicion from Jacobi.”

“That was smart,” Ullman said approvingly. “I suppose you got all

this from Netta?”

“Yeah. She talked. Boy! How she talked. Well, Corridan was after

as much money as he could get his claws on, so he agreed to play.

Netta now comes on the scene. Nine months ago, she and Bradley

married. Bradley couldn’t get her any other way, but he kept the

marriage quiet. This arrangement suited Netta as she could continue

to live on her own supported by Bradley, and if Bradley ever got tired

of her she would be taken care of in the divorce settlement. Bradley

bought the cottage at Lakeham for his robbery headquarters and as a

love nest for Netta and himself.

“The gang consisted of Bradley, Mrs. Brambee, Jacobi, Julius Cole

and Corridan. The robbery was successful, but Bradley and Jacobi

quarrelled over the split. Bradley killed Jacobi. Netta was present at

the shooting.”

“This is improving,” Bix said, brightening. “Don’t rush over the

gory details.”

“Jacobi was killed with a Luger pistol which Bradley had brought

back as a souvenir of the First World War. His name was engraved on

the pistol butt, and although the name had been erased, Bradley

knew the police would be able to read it under ultra-violet rays. If the

gun was ever found, he’d swing for the killing. Netta was by now tired

of Bradley and had fallen for Corridan. She took the Luger while

Bradley was dumping Jacobi’s body in a Soho street, and decided to

make capital out of it.”

“What some women will do for money,” Crystal exclaimed,

shocked. “Why is it I never have a chance to show how unscrupulous I

could be?”

“Netta was scared to approach Bradley direct,” I went on, “so she

suggested to Corridan that he should blackmail Bradley, and the two

of them share the proceeds. Corridan agreed, but he wanted the gun.

He was using Netta for his own profit, and he didn’t trust her. Netta

wouldn’t let him have the gun. It was her security in case Corridan

tried to gyp her.”

“I’d trust you with everything of mine, precious,” Crystal said,

fondling my hand.

“I’ll have that down in black and white when there’s a spare

moment,” I said, patting her. “But keep quiet and let me get on. Eat

up your nice chicken, and don’t spill any down your pretty dress.”

“When you two have stopped drooling over each other,” Ullman

said in disgust, “you might get on.”

“Corridan put the screws on Bradley, who paid up,” I continued..

“As Corridan didn’t dare show his face at the Club in case he was seen,

and as Netta wasn’t supposed to be in this blackmailing racket, Mrs.

Brambee was detailed to collect the money each week.

“Well, that was the set-up until Selma Jacobi discovered that

Bradley killed her husband. Cole told her this because he wanted to

get even for not receiving a cut from the money Corridan was getting

from Bradley. But Cole didn’t tell Selma that Corridan was hooked up

with Bradley. He was scared of Corridan. Selma went to Corridan,

knowing he was in charge of the Jacobi investigation, and told him

what Cole had told her. Imagine Corridan’s feelings. If he took action,

he’d dry up his own source of income, and Bradley would squeal on

him. If he didn’t, then Selma would go to a higher authority at the

Yard, and he’d get caught that way. His only way out was to get rid of

Selma. He took her along to Netta’s flat, drugged her, and between

the two of them they set the stage for suicide.”

By this time we had reached the coffee stage of the meal.

“For the love of Mike let’s have some whisky with this,” Bix

implored. “Listening to you gives me a thirst.”

I ordered whiskies, and a brandy for Crystal.

“Before Selma was murdered,” I went on, after the drinks had

arrived, “Bradley had\ found out that Netta and Corridan were lovers.

Bradley told Netta he had given orders to Frankie to lay for her and

splash her with vitriol. Whether this was Bradley’s idea of getting

even, or whether Frankie was really going to do it, I don’t know. Netta

swears he would have done it, and knowing Frankie I think it’s likely.

Anyway, Netta was terrified and she decided it’d be safer to drop out

of sight. Selma’s body offered the opportunity. Corridan agreed to

help, and they dyed Selma’s hair the same shade as Netta’s, bribed

Cole to identify her as Netta, passed the news on to Bradley that

Netta had killed herself. Do you follow all that up to now?” I asked,

looking around.

“Keep going,” Bix sighed. “My brain’s numbed, but the sound of

your voice has a soothing effect on it.”