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Authors: James Hadley Chase

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BOOK: 1945 - Blonde's Requiem
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Leave it for tonight,

I said.

It depends how badly Starkey wants to make trouble. It might be an idea for me to duck out of sight as Audrey

s done. I don

t want any more bombs thrown at me.

We went back to the main office. Wolf still sat smoking his cigar and brooding. He said:

Don

t keep me here all night. I

ve got other things to do than waste my time hanging around for you.

Marian put on her hat and picked up her handbag.

Good night,

she said to me, and, smiling at Wolf, she left the office.

Wolf rolled his cigar wetly between his lips and stared after her.

Nice girl,

he grunted.

Efficient too.

I sat down and lit a cigarette.

You stick to Miss Wilson,

I returned coldly.

She

s more in your line.

He eyed me balefully.

What do you want to talk about?

he said.

I

ve never met such a fellow for talking. Why the hell don

t you do something?


Maybe you don

t know what I have done,

I said, stretching out my legs and yawning.

Let me run over it with you.

I gave him the whole works. It didn

t sound half as bad as it really was.


Now you see what I

m up against,

I concluded.

Everyone

s working against each other and consequently we

re getting nowhere. Even if I did get the picture of Dixon

s body, I doubt if I could pin the killing on Starkey. All I could do would be to make trouble for Macey—not that that wouldn

t be a bad thing.

Wolf tugged at his underlip.

So Starkey is at the bottom of it,

he said.

Pin Dixon

s killing on him and he would be out of the running. Yeah, that

s what you have to do. Never mind about these missing girls. Go after Starkey. Get the picture and dig up some evidence that

ll fix him. Esslinger and I can fight the election by ourselves. I

m not scared of Esslinger.


How about the girls?

I asked, watching him thoughtfully.


When Starkey

s in jail,

Wolf snapped,

they

ll come out of hiding. It sticks out a mile that they

re working with him.

I shook my head.

I don

t think so. He or someone else has either kidnapped them or killed them.


To hell with them, anyway!

Wolf said.

You go after Starkey. The best thing to hit him with is Dixon

s killing.


Maybe it is,

I returned,

but I wasn

t hired to start trouble for Starkey. I was hired to find the girls.

His eyes snapped angrily.

You were hired to work for me!

he said.

And so long as I pay you, you

ll do what I tell you.

I shook my head.

You

re on the wrong foot,

I told him.

If you want me to go after Starkey, you

ll have to hire me all over again.

He sank deeper into his chair and his eyes narrowed.

So that

s it?

he said, his voice cold with rage.

You

re trying to hold me up?


Call it what you like,

I returned indifferently,

but I

m not taking on anything as tough as this unless you make it worth my while. I can go back to New York, work on a new case and know, when I get up in the morning, I won

t have a pair of wings to take to the shower with me. This job

s different. Any moment I may start playing a harp. And if I do go after Starkey it

s going to be just too bad if I slip up. Macey won

t do anything, you won

t do anything, and Esslinger will be only too pleased to sell me a shroud.

He chewed on his cigar while he turned this over in his mind.

You can go to hell,

he said at last.

I

ll get Colonel Forsberg to send me someone else.

I grinned at him.

Be your age,

I said.

Colonel Forsberg runs a detective agency. He doesn

t touch this kind of racket. If he knew what was going on he

d shoot your money back and call me off. If you don

t believe me, ask him and see.

I stubbed out my cigarette and pointed a finger at him.

If you want Starkey, you can have him but you

ll have to pay and you

ll have to give me a free hand. Do that and I

ll get him.


How?

Wolf asked, his eyes brooding.


Never mind how,

I returned.

I can get him all right. If you want Starkey fixed, say so and I

ll do it.


There

s something about you I don

t like,

Wolf growled.

You

re too smooth, too much of a talker. What are you playing at?

I grinned at him.

Maybe I do talk too much, but I don

t give much away.

He tapped ash into a brass bowl on the desk.

What

ll it cost?


Five grand will take care of it,

I said.

For that amount of dough I

ll give you Starkey in a week.

He shook his round, close-cropped head.

Too much,

he said.

Half would be too much.


Depends how you look at it,

I pointed out.

That

s the value I put on my life. If Starkey beats me to it I want something to decorate my will with.


Two thousand dollars and a free hand,

he offered,

and that

s final.

I saw it was.

Okay,

I said.

You

re getting a bargain, but I was always a sucker for starting trouble. Give me a cheque and I

ll start tomorrow.


When you

ve fixed Starkey,

Wolf said curtly.

I shook ray head.

No, money now or I

ll throw my hand in. You can

t have it both ways.

He eyed me and decided it would be a waste of time to argue. He took out his chequebook, slashed across it with fat ugly handwriting and tossed the slip of paper across the desk.

I picked it up, glanced at it and put it carefully in my pocket.

You said a free hand,

I reminded him.


What of it?


That means you keep away from the Gazette,

I told him.

There

s only one way to drag Starkey off his saddle, and you can

t afford to be mixed up in it.

He drummed on the desk.

What are you up to?

he asked, suspicion and doubt in his eyes.


The less you know about this the better,

I said.

I want you to keep away from here. If at the end of seven days Starkey is still out of jail, then you

ll get your money back. That

s all you

ve got to worry about. Fixing Starkey

s my business, but I

ll need the Gazette to do it, and unless you want someone to throw a bomb at you you

d better keep clear of it.

He got to his-feet.

Seven days,

he said.

If you haven

t done something in seven days, you

ll get the hell out of here and you

ll give me back my money. Understand?


Sure,

I said, yawning.

Now maybe you

ll let me go to bed.

He gave me a long thoughtful stare and went out, closing the door behind him.

* * *

At ten o

clock the next morning I was seated behind an impressive-looking desk in the office that Wolf had reserved for himself.

Marian, Reg and Latimer were with me. Marian sat on a chair by my desk.

Reg sat near her and Latimer propped himself up against the wall by the window.


I don

t know how you guys feel about this,

I said, pushing back my chair so I could rest my feet on the desk,

but I

ve got a free hand for seven days and in that time I

m going to bust this case or know the reason why. Maybe you don

t want to be mixed up in it. All you

ll get out of it is a front-row seat and a scoop that ought to put the Gazette in the gravy for the rest of its days. It may be tough going. It probably will be tough going, but you

ll be doing something that

ll benefit the town. It depends how you feel about it.

They looked at me expectantly.

What have we got to do?

Reg asked.

You can count me in so long as I know what

s wanted.


We

ve got to pry the lid off this town,

I said.

We can do it easily enough, but that

s only the beginning of it. We have to find Audrey Sheridan and get that photograph off her. With that we

ll try to pin Dixon

s murder on Starkey

s mob. By that time things ought to start popping, and it

s when things are popping I hope we

ll turn up these missing girls. I

m keeping out of sight for a day or so, but there are things you can do if you want to. For instance, I want to know if Dixon

s body has been removed from the morgue and whether it

s been taken to. Esslinger

s. Then I want to know what the police are doing about Mary Drake.

I looked across at Latimer.

You could do that. See Macey and interview him. Let him think you

re on his side, but get anything useful out of him.

I turned to Marian.

See Ted Esslinger. He ought to know if Audrey

s been in touch with his father. After all, she can

t ignore her client forever. I want to find her badly. I want a line on Edna Wilson. There

s something phoney about her.

I paused to light a cigarette.

And I want to know where Jeff Gordan was on the night Dixon was killed.

Reg said:

Okay, we

ll handle it.

He looked at Latimer, who nodded.


How about the Gazette?

I asked.

Can you fit all this in and run the Gazette at the same time?


The bulk of the copy is syndicated features and news,

Rex explained.

The stuff goes straight to the printing shop and the news editor handles it on the spot. We just cover the local news from here. We can do that all right.


Off you go then,

I said.

Marian covers Esslinger and Edna Wilson. Reg checks on Dixon

s funeral and Audrey. You,

to Latimer,

see Macey. Dig into it. I want action now and I

m going to get it. We

ll meet here at seven o

clock and see what you

ve got.

They said they would do that.


If anything breaks, get me on the telephone. I

ll be here all day. If any of you see Audrey, hang on to her and as soon as you

ve run her to ground give me a call. I want that dame more than anybody.

When they had gone I wrote another report to Colonel Forsberg. Every operative who worked for the Colonel had to turn in a daily report. The idea was sound, as it showed the operative what progress he was making and also it helped to clear up points he might have otherwise overlooked.

After I had read the report through, one particular thing struck me —the Street-Camera angle was a phoney.

I lit a cigarette and brooded about it. The more I brooded the more phoney it became. I had no idea how Starkey was selecting the girl to be kidnapped—always assuming that he was responsible for the kidnapping. If he was responsible, then in theory the idea of getting one of his gang to take the girl

s photograph and give her an address to collect it and then kidnap her when she arrived was a good one. But good only in theory. The girl might not bother to collect the photograph. That was one obvious point. If she did and she was kidnapped, how did they get her away from the building? Why was the picture of Mary Drake exhibited in the window on the day she was kidnapped? Something was wrong with this theory, but I couldn

t get at it.

I finally gave up in disgust and spent the rest of the morning lying on my bed, dozing and thinking. It was no use showing myself on the streets, I argued. If Macey and Starkey thought I had left town I might be able to spring a surprise on them. What kind of surprise it would be I had no idea, but it seemed to me as I dozed off that any kind of surprise was something.

BOOK: 1945 - Blonde's Requiem
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