smells.'
I can hear her gurglin' in the dark. I told you this Paulette is a helluva piece.
'You've got a sweet nerve,' she says. 'You burst into the Casa, smack Luis down, take me away just when I'm beginning to enjoy myself, and then tell me that you like my perfume. I reckon that you must go well with your lady friends, but you ought to remember this is Mexico.'
'You don't say, Paulette,' I tell her. 'So what? I been in Mexico before, and it ain't ever frightened me any. Say, did you ever hear of a Mexican called Caldesa Martinguez - their ace stick-up guy?'
She nods.
'Well,' I go on. '~This guy got pretty big an' he reckoned to get over the border one day an' pull a fast one on the Arizona mail cart. He pulled a fast one - three times. First he stuck up the mail car; second time he stuck it up an' cut the driver's ear off, an' the third time he pumped so much lead into the driver an' the guard that they both looked like ammunition factories when we found 'em.'
I get out my cigarette pack with my left hand an' give it to her. She lights a couple - one for herself an' one for me.
'OK,' I say. 'Well, the US authorities got plenty mad at this guy. So they send some wise guy down to the border an' this guy pulls a coupla fake stick - ups, an' eventually Martinguez gets to hear of him an' cuts him in on the business. The wise guy plays along with Martinguez, an' one night gets him good an' high on doctored liquor. Then he ties him on a horse an' runs him over the border to a nice lock-up an' a six foot drop - they still hang 'em in Arizona.
'The joke was that when Martinguez arrives at the lock-up he is nearly nuts because the wise guy has filled the seat of his pants with cactus spines an' stingin' nettles, an' every time the horse bumps Martinguez lets go a howl like he was demented. If you've ever sat on a cactus spine you'll get what I mean. I tell you this bad man was hard-hearted, but when they come to execute him his seat was so tender that hangin' was just a sweet relief.'
'Very nice,' she says, 'an' who was the wise guy?'
'A palooka name of Caution,' I tell her sorta modest. 'Lemmy Caution was the name.'
We go on drivin'. It is a lousy road an' I haveta concentrate. She don't say nothin'. Suddenly she puts her hand on my knee.
'You're a helluva man, Lemmy,' she says. 'After these dagoes...' She sorta sighs. 'It's fine meeting you.'
She looks at me sideways.
I keep my eye on the road. It looks to me like this dame is fallin' for me too fast even if she is a quick worker, but I play along.
'Gee, that's swell' I tell her. 'I reckon you're the sorta dame I've been lookin' for. A swell dame an' a swell night,' I say, noddin' my head at the moon, 'an' what more could any guy ask?'
She don't say nothin'. She just lets go another big sigh. There is silence for a bit an' then she says:
'Listen, Lemmy, what's all this stuff about Granworth Aymes?'
'Oh, it ain't nothin' much,' I tell her. 'I ain't really interested in Aymes. I'm interested in a little counterfeit job that's sorta got mixed up with it. I'll tell you about it in a minute.'
She don't answer an' I reckon she's doin' some heavy thinkin'. Pretty soon we pull up at the hacienda. The Mexican jane is waitin' in the doorway an' she takes my hat. The place is pretty swell inside - the furniture is good an' it looks like Paulette knows how to fix herself.
We go into some room on the right of the hallway. Paulette points to a big rocker chair that is standin' out on a veranda that runs along one side of the house. I go an' sit down an' give myself a cigarette an' she goes over an' starts mixin' highballs. I can hear the ice clinkin'.
In a minute she comes over with a drink in each hand. She gives me mine an' sits herself down in a chair opposite me.
'Well, Lemmy,' she says, 'shoot.'
I give her a cigarette an' light it. As I am holdin' the match she looks up into my eyes an' I'm tellin' you that I get an idea that she knows more about wireless telegraphy than Marconi. It was one helluva look. I go an' sit down again.
'Here's the way it is,' I tell her. 'This guy Granworth Aymes bumps himself off last January. Some time before he does this he has given his wife two hundred grand worth of Dollar Bonds. OK. After his suicide she gets up to some dump near Palm Springs an' tries to cash one of these bonds at the bank. Well, it is phoney. I get stuck on this job an' I've been musclm' around plenty, but I ain't doin' myself any good. I know just as much about this thing as when I started on it.
While I am talkin' she is lookin' out across the Mesa. I can just see the outline of her face in the dark, but it don't tell me anythin'.
'Now I've got a hunch,' I go on still watchin' her. 'I've got a hunch that this dame Henrietta knows plenty about this counterfeitin' business, but I can't find any way to make this baby talk. While I am jumpin' around on this job Langdon Burdell who was secretary to Aymes give me an idea that Granworth didn't commit suicide at all; that he was bumped, and that Henrietta bumped him, an' between you an' me, honey, that's just the way it looks to me.
'But supposin' for the sake of argument I prove that she bumped Granworth an' pinch her for it, what good do I do. I still ain't goin' to find out where she got those phoney bonds an' who made 'em, because if she is stuck up on a first degree murder charge she knows durn well she ain't goin' to do herself no good or get any time off or save herself from the chair by squealin' about the counterfeitin'.
'OK. Well, I find out that you used to get around with Granworth Aymes plenty, an' I reckon maybe you can help me on this job. If Aymes was stuck on you I reckon he told you plenty about Henrietta, because guys always tell the 'other woman' a lot, an' maybe you can slip me a little information rememberin' all the time that the thing I want to know is this:
'First, did Aymes give her the real bonds or did he slip her counterfeit ones? Second, did he slip her the real ones an' has she got 'em salted down some place an' got somebody to give her a duplicate set of phoney bonds so's she could have it both ways, takin' advantage of the fact that everybody would think she had the real ones an' therefore the phoney ones she was passin' was OK?'
I throw my cigarette stub over the veranda.
'So I want you to talk, Paulette' I tell her, 'an' plenty, because they always say that the 'other woman' knows the worics, an' it looks to me like you are the 'other woman
She turns round in her chair an' she looks at me.
'Nuts,' she says. 'It looks to me as if somebody's stringing you along, but I can certainly help you, Lemmy.'
She gets up an' she stands leanin' against the veranda rail lookin' down at me.
'Listen, Mr 'G' man,' she says, 'you can take it from me straight that Henrietta Aymes got those phoney bonds from some place and she knew they were phoney. I'll tell you why. Granworth Aymes didn't give her any 200,000 dollars worth of Registered Dollar Bonds. I know he didn't!'
'You don't say,' I tell her. 'But listen, honey,' I go on. 'We know he had got them bonds. We know he bought 'em. If he didn't give 'em to her, where are they? Who did he give 'em to?'
She starts laughin', a little soft gurglla' laugh that makes me think of all sorts of things.
'I'll tell you who he gave them to, Lemmy' she says. 'He gave them to me.'
Her face gets tense an' the smile goes off it.
'Now listen to me, big boy,' she says. 'I'm going to tell you plenty. If anybody says I was running around with Granworth Aymes then that person is a lousy liar. I knew Granworth Aymes and I'm not going to say that I disliked him in spite of the fact that he did my husband down for plenty. Now listen to this:
'Maybe they didn't tell you I've got a husband. He's away down at Zoni, living in a doctor's house. The poor guy's dying of consumption. They reckon he's got about three months to live.
'Granworth Aymes was his broker an' two-three years ago my husband was worth nearly a quarter of a million dollars. He wasn't satisfied with that. He had to have some more, so he starts playin' the market with Aymes buying stocks and bonds. And what happens? He loses practically all the money he's got, but it wasn't till just before last Christmas that he found out that it hadn't been lost on the stock market. Aymes had taken him for it. He'd made a sucker outa the poor sap.
