The Predators (23 page)

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Authors: Harold Robbins

BOOK: The Predators
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Paul was always glad to see me when I came in. I hadn’t been in for a while and I told him that the platoon had been moving. I also told him my problem. I needed a place to live immediately. He offered to help me. He wanted to know where the new location was. Maybe he could open a bar close by. Paul was always looking for an opportunity.

“I know of a nice two-bedroom apartment near here if you don’t mind sharing it,” he finally said after thinking about my dilemma. “The price would be reasonable.”

I looked at him. “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never shared a place with a homosexual.”

Paul began laughing. “You are very funny. I would not put you in with one of the fairies. You would share the apartment with a girl who works here in the club. She is a girl from my hometown, Lyons, and I’ve known her since she was a child.”

I was curious. I knew he never had affairs with women. “How come a girl you knew as a child comes here to be a stripper? You get her into it?”

“No, my friend,” he said disapprovingly. “I am friends with her family. She began working in Lyons as a stripper, until there was a little problem, and she came to Paris. I wanted her here because in a big city she could be lost.”

“What was she running away from?” I asked.

“The Gestapo,” he said. “Her sister had been in love with a German officer and she told Giselle about certain important information. Then Giselle would pass the information to the French underground. Her sister learned from her lover that the Nazis were going after Giselle. It was then that Giselle came here.”

“That’s a hell of a story,” I said. “How come I never met her?”

“Because after the show, I have her working on the fairies’ side of the runway. She is bright and they like her because she never hustled them for more champagne. So, of course, then they ordered more than ever.” He laughed again. “You’ll like her. But just remember she’s a good girl, not a whore.”

“You seem to worry about her,” I said.

“She is a brave girl as well,” he said. “And I don’t want her to be hurt.”

And that was the way I met Giselle. Paul told me to wait until she had finished the show. He pointed her out to me. She was beautiful and naked. I turned to Paul. “I don’t know if I can handle it,” I said.

“Just remember that you are a gentleman.” He smiled. “And I promised her father that I would take care of her.”

An hour later, he brought her over to the table and introduced us to each other. Much to my surprise she spoke very good English. I smiled at her as we shook hands French style, formally. One shake up, one shake down. “I enjoyed your act,” I said. “You are really a very talented dancer.”

She laughed. “Jerry, the only talent you need in this show is how you look naked.”

“That, too,” I said. “But you had a good act.”

“Paul taught me how to do that.” She smiled. “He said that a girl has to have what you call a gimmick.”

“You have that, too,” I said.

She nodded. “Paul told me that you are looking to share an apartment.”

“Actually all I need is a room. Most of my time will be spent in the garage. All of my meals will be in the army mess hall,” I said. “I won’t be any trouble.”

“I want a roommate, not a lover,” she said. “Paul said that you would agree to that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I’m not looking for any ties. When the war is over I want to go home.”

She looked at me. “The rent will be one hundred twenty-five dollars a month.”

“That’s more money than I get paid by the army,” I answered.

“Paul said he would find you a way to earn extra money,” she said.

“I don’t know anything about that,” I said. “He hasn’t mentioned it.”

“Well, let’s see what he has in mind,” she said quietly.

Paul was a fixer. He knew the way to do anything. The first thing he did was take me over to Giselle’s apartment with her after her show ended at three o’clock in the morning. It was three blocks from the club, in an old-fashioned brownstone house. The apartment was on the fifth floor. It was a walk-up, no elevator. But the apartment was very nice. It had a kitchen which also served as a dining room, two bedrooms, and a small living room. The large bedroom was Giselle’s. It was very comfortably furnished. The double bed had down-filled pillows and a large down blanket. There were also a dresser and an armoire and two chairs.

The other room was smaller. A single bed, simple pillow, and a wool blanket. A narrow armoire and a small table on which there was a large bowl and pitcher and towel rack attached. Over the table was an oval mirror, which you used to wash and shave. The bathroom was between the rooms. It was completely furnished with running water for the sink and bathtub and bidet. Hot water was from a simple water heater attached to the sink and tub. In the corner of the bathroom was a closet which housed the toilet and gave complete privacy.

Paul looked at me. “What do you think?”

“It’s fine,” I said. “The only problem is, I can’t afford it.”

“I have an idea that might help you,” he said. “Can I meet you at your garage tomorrow morning?”

“I can arrange a pass for you,” I answered.

“Good,” he said. “Then we will discuss my proposition. If you would like you can spend the night here and I will pick you up in the morning.”

I turned to Giselle. “Is that all right with you?”

“It’s okay with me,” she said. “After all, Paul owns this apartment and if it’s good with him, it’s okay with me.”

I was right—it was Paul’s apartment. “I appreciate what you are both doing, but I think it would be better if I went back to the barracks tonight,” I said. Then I turned to Paul. “We will meet in the morning. I’ll need to give you directions.”

Paul laughed. “I know where you are. After all, I am French and I know everything that goes on in my territory.”

“Your territory?” I asked curiously.

“I’m Corsican,” he said. “Everything is always fine with us.”

I turned to Giselle. “Are you Corsican also?”

She laughed. “No, I am Lyonnaise. That’s real French.”

I held out my hand to her. “I’m just curious. Who will be my landlord, you or Paul?”

Paul interrupted. “She will, of course.”

I still held out my hand. “Then, I thank you, madame.” I didn’t know it then, but later I learned that the Corsicans in France were like the Mafia at home. They were in control of almost everything.

*   *   *

Paul met me the next morning at the garage. He was very interested in the way we repaired the jeeps. He wanted to know if they looked like new when they were repainted. I took him to the field where we stored many of the jeeps we had cannibalized for parts when we were restoring the better jeeps.

He turned to me. “Jerry, who is in charge of all the jeeps you use to restore the others?”

“Actually the colonel is in charge,” I said. “He stays in Paris most of the time at the American headquarters. He just signs the junking orders that I send him.”

“That is the officer that your friend Buddy brought into my club?” he asked.

I was surprised. It was true he knew everything that went on in his club. “Yes,” I said.

“Then he will not be in your way,” he said with authority. “I know many men who need cars for their business. If you could arrange to repair some of those jeeps we can get a good price for them.”

“I’ll have to use some of the specialists in the platoon, but Sergeant Felder is in charge of that and he is a friend of mine,” I said.

“With twelve thousand francs for each car you’ll be able to persuade the ones you need.”

I looked at him. Twelve thousand francs was equal to two thousand dollars. “And what would you get out of it?”

“Twenty-five thousand a car.” He smiled. “But you probably should be able to keep most of the money for yourself. And then you can afford Giselle’s apartment.”

I laughed. “I like the idea. I just don’t want to get caught.”

“You can’t get caught,” he said. “I will arrange all the contacts with the customers. They’re French. They don’t talk to anyone, especially about contraband.”

“I’ll check it out,” I said. “If everyone is in agreement, I’ll let you know. Then I can move into the apartment.”

Paul pressed my arm with his hand. “You can move into the apartment without any problem. We are friends. We don’t need a business affair to stand between us.”

“Thank you,” I said to him. “But I’ll feel better if I can pay my share of the apartment. As soon as I can put everything together I’ll let you know.”

He smiled and he walked down the street. I watched him until he turned the corner. But there was something in the way he pressed my arm that worried me. Maybe it was because I knew that he was queer that it worried me. I didn’t want him to have any ideas about me.

5

The first jeep was ready for sale in less than two weeks. It wasn’t easy. We had to file off all the numbers on the parts so they could not be traced. Sergeant Felder, who was in charge of the junked jeep field, told me if I could get him two more men to help him he could repair one jeep each week.

“You’re a real Henry Kaiser,” I said, and laughed.

“More like Henry Ford.” He laughed. “Now I want to work with you, but I’m not getting enough for the risk I am taking. I might get my ass in a sling.”

“There’s not going to be a problem,” I said. “We are giving each of the men twenty thousand francs. When you add two more men, we have to pay more money. That adds up to eighty thousand francs. We can’t get enough money to go around.”

“I want fifty thousand francs for myself. I take all the responsibility. Besides, I’m not stupid. The French are hungry for cars. They’ll pay any price. They are desperate.”

I looked at him. “Felder, you’re a schmuck. You might blow the whole deal.”

“I don’t give a shit,” he said. “I can get that money just selling parts to the frogs.”

“Yeah,” I said. “And you’ll really wind up in the can.”

“Then how much do you think I can get?” he asked.

I was glad. At least he was bargaining. That’s something I learned from Buddy. If they are ready to bargain, you have the upper hand. “Let me see what we can get for the first car,” I said. “Then we’ll know better how we can split it up.”

I drove the first jeep off the base about midnight. Only Felder and I were there. We wanted to make sure that no one else would see us. Felder padlocked the gate behind me. “Be careful,” he said. “There’s no army license plates on the car. Watch out for MPs.”

I took the dark, narrow back streets to the back door of the Blue Note. I left the car in the alley and knocked on the door.

A big Frenchman opened the door. “Who are you?” he asked in passable English.

“I want to see Monsieur Renard,” I said.

He looked at me. “Monsieur Renard doesn’t see anyone at the stage door.”

I took out a five-hundred-franc note and passed it to him. “He’ll see me,” I said.

Just that moment Giselle came down the circular stairway from the dressing room. “Jerry!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing back here?”

“I’m supposed to meet Paul here,” I said. “But maybe he has forgotten about it.”

Giselle nodded and turned to the doorman. She spoke quickly in French to him. He nodded his head and ran off.

She looked at me. “I’m going on stage in a few minutes. You will be able to watch me.”

“I’m sure I will be able to stay. As soon as I finish my business with Paul,” I said.

“Is it the jeep?” she asked.

“You know?” I asked.

“Paul told me. He likes you.” She laughed. “Can I see the car?”

“Of course,” I said. “But it’s cold outside.” I looked at her costume. What there was of it was not enough to keep her warm.

Paul appeared with the fat man right behind him. “You have the car?” he asked excitedly.

“The first one we finished,” I answered.

Giselle spoke to him. “Can I see it?”

“Get her a cape,” Paul said to the fat man.

There was a rack near the door. The fat man took a cape from a group of overcoats and placed it around Giselle’s shoulders. Then we all went out to look at the car.

“It’s beautiful,” Giselle said. “I never saw a white jeep before.”

“We’re painting the jeeps different colors,” I said. “We don’t want them to look like they are still army property.”

Paul turned to the fat man. “Cover the car with a canvas. I don’t want anyone to see it without my okay. Before the morning put it in the garage next door.”

“Oui, monsieur,” the fat man answered, and opened the door to let us go back into the club.

Paul smiled. “Come into the club.”

Giselle laughed. “I’m going on in a few minutes. I’ll be disappointed if you are not in the audience.”

“He’ll be there,” Paul said to her, and then he turned to me. “Let’s go in and have a drink.”

I followed him through the hallway which led into the club. I looked around. It was Tuesday and the club was not very busy. Only the homosexual side of the runway was fairly filled up. Paul’s table was set so that he could observe everything going on in the room. He ordered a pastis and I had a beer.

He looked at me. “Were there any problems?”

“Only money. Felder wants more money for himself and wants me to assign two more men to him. He says that he can turn out a car a week.”

“What did you tell him?” he asked.

“I told him that the money is tight. But he knows the market because he sells parts to auto mechanics.” I took a swig of my beer. “But if we give him what he wants there won’t be that much left for us.”

“We can do it,” Paul said. “We just charge more for the cars. If the cars all look as good as the white one, there will be no problem.”

“There’s only one other problem,” I said. “We’re Americans. They all want dollars.”

Paul stared at me. “That’s not easy. Everybody wants to keep the dollars for themselves.”

“If they want a car bad enough, the money will not be important,” I said, feeling confident. I knew that he took in a lot of dollars. After all, half of his clients at both of his clubs were American soldiers.

“We’ll work on it,” he said. Then he smiled at me. “Giselle is coming on. Watch her. She is really very beautiful.”

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