me. Blondes are a menace to society.”
“That’s not very polite,” Crystal said, a little hurt.
Ullman eyed her coldly. “The only woman I’ve ever been polite to
was my mother,” he told her.
Crystal said she was surprised to hear he ever had a mother, and
did the old lady die of a broken heart?
“Quiet,” I said hurriedly as Ul man began to grow hot.
Bix said would it be an idea if Crystal and he went for a walk along
the hotel corridor while Ullman and I bored each other to death?
“Will you please pipe down,” I growled, thumping the table.
“Well, come on,” Ullman said impatiently. “You’ve run me ragged
these last days digging up information. How did you get on to
Corridan?”
“Suppose I tell you the set-up from the beginning?” I suggested.
“Then even Crystal, dumb as she is, will be able to follow. Ouch!”
I massaged my shin, told Crystal to behave herself, hurried on
before there were more interruptions.
“As you know, Jack Bradley, to recoup his losses, installed two
roulette tables in the Club,” I began. “There’s no future in that kind of
racket unless you have adequate protection. Bradley was smart
enough to realize that, and he looked around for a likely bird in the
police force who’d give him this protection.”
“And he picked on Corridan?” Ullman said.
“Don’t interrupt,” Crystal reproved him. “My father says that
people who interrupt . . .”
“Never mind your father now,” I broke in hastily. “Just pipe down,
honey, and let me do the talking.” I looked over at Bix. “And that’s my
knee you’re fondling under the table just in case you thought it was
Crystal’s.”
Bix snatched his hand away, had the grace to blush. He looked at
Crystal reproachful y. She giggled.
“Yes, he picked on Corridan,” I went on as Ullman began to scowl
again. “Corridan was, at that time, a rising star at the Yard, and was
handling the club rackets. Bradley offered him a big cut of his profits if
he’d tip him when a raid was likely to be made. It was easy money;
Corridan fell for it. Then George Jacobi appeared on the scene . . . .”
“How much better this’d be if it was illustrated with lantern
slides,” Bix said regretfully. “Imagine a slide depicting the arrival of
George Jacobi in a snowstorm. How gripping that’d be.”
“Especially if the slide was upside-down,” Crystal said, giggling
over the hors d’oeuvre.
“I’ll turn you upside-down and . . .” I snarled.
“Never mind these cretins,” Ullman said. “Go on, for God’s sake.”
“Jacobi was an expert jewel thief and was planning to steal
Allenby’s anti-invasion nest-egg, worth fifty thousand pounds,” I said,
scowling at Crystal, who made faces at me. “But Jacobi knew he
couldn’t handle a job as big as that on his own. . . .”
“The weak sister!” Bix said in disgust. “If it’d been half that
amount I’d’ve done it.”
“So would I,” Crystal chimed in. “I’d’ve done it for a quarter the
amount.”
“And he suggested Bradley should come in on it with him,” I went
on, ignoring the interruption. “Bradley thought it’d be an idea to get
the police on his side, and he put the proposition to Corridan, offering
him a third of the spoils if he acted as inside man after the robbery,
steering suspicion from Jacobi.”
“That was smart,” Ullman said approvingly. “I suppose you got all
this from Netta?”
“Yeah. She talked. Boy! How she talked. Well, Corridan was after
as much money as he could get his claws on, so he agreed to play.
Netta now comes on the scene. Nine months ago, she and Bradley
married. Bradley couldn’t get her any other way, but he kept the
marriage quiet. This arrangement suited Netta as she could continue
to live on her own supported by Bradley, and if Bradley ever got tired
of her she would be taken care of in the divorce settlement. Bradley
bought the cottage at Lakeham for his robbery headquarters and as a
love nest for Netta and himself.
“The gang consisted of Bradley, Mrs. Brambee, Jacobi, Julius Cole
and Corridan. The robbery was successful, but Bradley and Jacobi
quarrelled over the split. Bradley killed Jacobi. Netta was present at
the shooting.”
“This is improving,” Bix said, brightening. “Don’t rush over the
gory details.”
“Jacobi was killed with a Luger pistol which Bradley had brought
back as a souvenir of the First World War. His name was engraved on
the pistol butt, and although the name had been erased, Bradley
knew the police would be able to read it under ultra-violet rays. If the
gun was ever found, he’d swing for the killing. Netta was by now tired
of Bradley and had fallen for Corridan. She took the Luger while
Bradley was dumping Jacobi’s body in a Soho street, and decided to
make capital out of it.”
“What some women will do for money,” Crystal exclaimed,
shocked. “Why is it I never have a chance to show how unscrupulous I
could be?”
“Netta was scared to approach Bradley direct,” I went on, “so she
suggested to Corridan that he should blackmail Bradley, and the two
of them share the proceeds. Corridan agreed, but he wanted the gun.
He was using Netta for his own profit, and he didn’t trust her. Netta
wouldn’t let him have the gun. It was her security in case Corridan
tried to gyp her.”
“I’d trust you with everything of mine, precious,” Crystal said,
fondling my hand.
“I’ll have that down in black and white when there’s a spare
moment,” I said, patting her. “But keep quiet and let me get on. Eat
up your nice chicken, and don’t spill any down your pretty dress.”
“When you two have stopped drooling over each other,” Ullman
said in disgust, “you might get on.”
“Corridan put the screws on Bradley, who paid up,” I continued..
“As Corridan didn’t dare show his face at the Club in case he was seen,
