said they could work through the insurance people, if they had to, but that meant cutting in a shyster, and they preferred not to. He sounded like a man with some education.”
“It might have been Dressed-Up Eddie,” I said. “Only he got bumped off in Chicago.”
She shrugged. We had a drink. She went on.
“Then they left and we went home and I told Lin to keep quiet about it. The next day I got a call. We have two phones, one with extensions and one in my bedroom with no extensions. The call was on this. It’s not listed, of course.”
I nodded. “They can buy the number for a few dollars. It’s done all the time. Some movie people have to change their numbers every month.”
We had a drink.
“I told the man calling to take it up with Lin and he would represent me and if they were not too unreasonable, we might deal. He said okey, and from then on I guess they just stalled long enough to watch us a little. Finally, as you know, we agreed on eight thousand dollars and so forth.”
“Could you recognize any of them?”
“Of course not”
“Randall know all this?”
“Of course. Do we have to talk about it any more? It bores me.” She gave me the lovely smile.
“Did he make any comment?”
She yawned. “Probably. I forget.”
I sat with my empty glass in my hand and thought. She took it away from me and started to fill it again.
I took the refilled glass out of her hand and transferred it to my left and took hold of her left hand with my right. It felt smooth and soft and warm and comforting. It squeezed mine. The muscles in it were strong. She was a well built woman, and no paper flower.
“I think he had an idea, she said. “But he didn’t say what it was.”
“Anybody would have an idea out of all that,” I said.
She turned her head slowly and looked at me. Then she nodded. “You can’t miss it, can you?”
“How long have you known him?”
“Oh, years. He used to be an announcer at the station my husband owned. KFDK. That’s where I met him. That’s where I met my husband too.”
“I knew that. But Marriott lived as if he had money. Not riches, but comfortable money.”
“He came into some and quit radio business.”
“Do you know for a fact he came into money — or was that just something he said?”
She shrugged. She squeezed my hand.
“Or it may not have been very much money and he may have gone through it pretty fast.” I squeezed her hand back. “Did he borrow from you?”
“You’re a little old-fashioned, aren’t you?” She looked down at the hand I was holding.
“I’m still working. And your Scotch is so good it keeps me half-sober. Not that I’d have to be drunk — “
“Yes.” She drew her hand out of mine and rubbed it. “You must have quite a clutch — in your spare time. Lin Marriott was a high-class blackmailer, of course. That’s obvious. He lived on women.”
“He had something on you?”
“Should I tell you?”
“It probably wouldn’t be wise.”
She laughed. “I will, anyhow. I got a little tight at his house once and passed out. I seldom do. He took some photos of me — with my clothes up to my neck.”
“The dirty dog,” I said. “Have you got any of them handy?”
She slapped my wrist. She said softly:
“What’s your name?”
“Phil. What’s yours?”
“Helen. Kiss me.”
She fell softly across my lap and I bent down over her face and began to browse on it. She worked her eyelashes and made butterfly kisses on my cheeks. When I got to her mouth it was half open and burning and her tongue was a darting snake between her teeth.
The door opened and Mr. Grayle stepped quietly into the room. I was holding her and didn’t have a chance to let go. I lifted my face and looked at him. I felt as cold as Finnegan’s feet, the day they buried him.
The blonde in my arms didn’t move, didn’t even close her lips. She had a half-dreamy, half-sarcastic expression on her face.
Mr. Grayle cleared his throat slightly and said: “I beg your pardon, I’m sure,” and went quietly out of the room. There was an infinite sadness in his eyes.
I pushed her away and stood up and got my handkerchief out and mopped my face.
She lay as I had left her, half sideways along the davenport, the skin showing in a generous sweep above one stocking.
“Who was that?” she asked thickly.
“Mr. Grayle.”
“Forget him.”
I went away from her and sat down in the chair I had sat in when I first came into the room.
After a moment she straightened herself out and sat up and looked at me steadily.
“It’s all right. He understands. What the hell can he expect?”
“I guess he knows.”
“Well, I tell you it’s all right. Isn’t that enough? He’s a sick man. What the hell — “
“Don’t go shrill on me. I don’t like shrill women.”
She opened a bag lying beside her and took out a small handkerchief and wiped her lips, then looked at her face in a mirror. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “Just too much Scotch. Tonight at the Belvedere Club. Ten o’clock.” She wasn’t looking at me. Her breath was fast.
“Is that a good place?”
“Laird Brunette owns it I know him pretty well.”
“Right,” I said. I was still cold. I felt nasty, as if I had picked a poor man’s pocket.
She got a lipstick out and touched her lips very lightly and then looked at me along her eyes. She tossed the mirror. I caught it and looked at my face. I worked at it with my handkerchief and stood up to give her back the mirror.
She was leaning back, showing all her throat, looking at me lazily down her eyes.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. Ten o’clock at the Belvedere Club. Don’t be too magnificent. All I have is a dinner suit. In the bar?”
She nodded, her eyes still lazy.
I went across the room and out, without looking back. The footman met me in the hall and gave me my hat, looking like the Great Stone Face.
19
I walked down the curving driveway and lost myself in the shadow of the tall trimmed hedges and came to the gates. Another man was holding the fort now, a husky in plainclothes, an obvious bodyguard. He let me out with a nod.
A horn tooted. Miss Riordan’s coupe was drawn up behind my car. I went over there and looked in at her. She looked cool and sarcastic.
She sat there with her hands on the wheel, gloved and slim. She smiled.
