James Chase: You've Got It Coming

Across the bottom of the photograph he had scrawled: For Glorie, my wonderful girl, Ben.

Harry flicked the photograph with his fingernail as he stared at it. Who would have imagined that at one time Glorie had been the girlfriend of one of the most powerful and dangerous racketeers in California? Unbelievable, but what a bit of luck!

Harry smiled as he slid the photograph into his wallet. He returned the bundle to its hiding place. Then, whistling softly, he went into the bathroom to take a shower.

III

The first hour or so at the Star hotel was usually slack, and as she sat in her small cubicle waiting for a client. Glorie had time to think about Harry's fantastic plan.

She went over in her mind everything he had said. Even if he didn't go ahead with this particular plan, it was a pointer to the way his mind was working, and an explanation as to why he hadn't got himself a job. She wouldn't have believed that he had a crooked streak in him. She knew he was reckless and that he drank too much, but this was something she hadn't bargained for.

It seemed to be her fate, she thought bitterly, to hook up with men who went off the rails. It had been a horrible shock to her when she had found out that Ben was a gangster. It was only when two hard-faced detectives had called on him one night when they had been together in his apartment that the truth had dawned on her, and from then on she had lived in dread of further police visits.

But as the months went by, and Ben had become more powerful, and was able to buy himself police protection, the visits became increasingly rare. But she had never forgotten the way the police had treated her, nor their insults and their brutal questioning. Even now she couldn't pass a patrolman without an inward shudder.

If Harry was crazy enough to go ahead with this scheme, she thought, he wouldn't be able to buy himself protection as Ben had done. He would be hunted, and sooner or later he would be caught and he would go to prison.

The thought of losing him turned her sick. Whatever happened, she told herself, whatever he decided to do, she would stick with him. Life without him now was unthinkable. Somehow she had to persuade him to give up this dangerous, half-baked scheme, and if she failed, then she would have to make absolutely certain he didn't rush into it without the most careful planning.

She told herself she was a fool. She should have left Ben when she found out he was a gangster, but she couldn't do it. She knew she should leave Harry now he was planning a robbery, and again she knew she couldn't do it.

The day seemed interminable, and when at last she left the hotel, she was in such a state of nerves and worry that she ran most of the way back to the apartment, unaware that people in the street were staring after her, startled by her white, scared face.

She found Harry lounging in an armchair, listening to swing music on the radio, apparently without a care in the world.

“Hello,” he said as she came breathlessly into the room. “You seem to be in a hurry. Where's the fire?”

“There's no fire,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

She kissed him and then turned away as she took off her hat and coat.

“I'll take them,” he said and she gave them to him.

She sat down before the lire while he went into the bedroom.

When he came back, he made two stiff highballs and gave her one.

“Want to eat now or later?” he asked.

“I'm not hungry.” She drank some of the whisky, then she took a cigarette and looked at him.

He smiled at her.

“Been worrying, baby?”

She nodded.

“I guess so.” She forced a smile. “I have every reason to worry, haven't I? This idea of yours is a bit of a shock.”

“I want you to know, Glorie,” he said, “how it is. I don't want to keep anything from you.”

“You do realize, Harry, what this means if you do this job?” she said. “Right now you can pass a policeman without even seeing him, but if you take these diamonds, every policeman will be a threat to you, and that's an awful way to live.”

“Sounds as if that came right from the heart,” Harry said, smiling. “Don't tell me the police have been after you in your dark, murky past because I won’t believe you.”

“I'm not joking!” she said sharply. “Please listen to me, Harry. You won’t get rid of those diamonds, even if you succeed in getting hold of them. You're an outsider. You haven't any connections. You won’t be able to trust any fence, even if you succeed in finding one, and I can't see how you'll do even that. This idea of yours won’t work, Harry.”

Harry grimaced.

“You could be right,” he said. “All the same, the idea is a cinch for a guy who has a big organization and men he can rely on. It can't fail, but without an organization it's tough — probably too tough.”

She began to breathe again.

“That's just it. It's too tough. I'm so glad and relieved, darling, you realize it now. You will drop it, won’t you?”

He lifted his heavy eyebrows.

“Of course I'm not going to drop it. No, the idea now is to find a big enough organization who could handle it and then sell the idea to them. I stand a chance of picking up fifty grand for the idea, and that will give me the start I want.”

She very nearly lost patience with him, but controlled herself in time.

“Darling, that's not a very sensible idea, is it? How can you possibly sell anyone such an idea. They wouldn't pay you until you told them what your idea is, and once they know they wouldn't have to pay you. You're dealing with crooks. You couldn't trust them to pay you.”

Harry grinned.

“You obviously don't think much of my brains,” he said. “I'm not that much of a sucker. This plan of mine relies on two things: the means of identifying the aircraft that will carry the diamonds, and where in the desert it is possible to make a safe landing. I happen to know both these things. Without them, the job can't be done, and unless I get the money, cash on the barrel-head, I don't part with the information.”

Glorie's heart sank.

“I see,” she said, trying to keep calm. “But, Harry, you have no connections. You wouldn't get to anyone big enough to handle the job. They would think it was a police trap. You just wouldn't get them to believe you.”

He drew in a long, deep breath. At last he had got her to the crucial point. She was saying exactly what he had planned and hoped she would say. It depended now on how far he could press her and the extent of her feelings towards him.

“That's right, Glorie,” he said, watching her. “I agree they wouldn't trust me, but they would trust you.”

She stared at him, not believing she had heard him correctly.

“Trust me?” she said blankly.

“Ben Delaney would take your word, Glorie, even if he wouldn't take mine.”

Her reaction to this startled him. She jumped to her feet, her eyes angry, her face a hard, white mask.

“What do you know about Ben Delaney?” she demanded.

“Take it easy. No need to jump down my throat. You and Delaney were friends once, weren't you?”

“How do you know that?”

His face hardened.

“Don't go shrill on me, Glorie. You're not making a secret of it, are you? I happened to pick up an old magazine and this fell out of it.”

He took Delaney's photograph from his wallet and tossed it on the table.

Glorie looked at it, her eyes glittering.

“You're lying!” she said. “You didn't find that in a magazine! You've been reading my letters.”

Harry began to lose patience.

“So what? If you didn't want me to read them why put them where I could find them?” he said. “Stop glaring at me! If you want to make a fight of this, say so, and I'll give you one!”