Dames Don’t Care

CHAPTER 8

I NEVER did like mornin's after. They get in my hair. You always think about the one you oughta have pulled the night before, the one you didn't think of.

When I wake up the sun is shinin' through the window curtains an' I feel that I am goin' to get movin' so fast that some of these guys are goin' to think they was bein' chased by lightnin'. Me-I'm a patient sorta cuss, but there is a time when you gotta do somethin' an' it looks to me like the time is right now.

I get up an' I take a shower an' drink some coffee. While I am drinkin' it I am thinkin' of all the things that I oughta have pulled on Henrietta last night that I never did. Work it out for yourself that this dame is doin' one of two things. She is either stuck on me so much that she will tell me anything I want, or else she is twicin' me an' has gotta put up a front that she will tell me anythin' I want. So either way I reckon that I missed a lotta opportunities.

Sittin' on the edge of the bed I start rememberin' when I was back at the Federal school learnin' my stuff. I remember some old guy who used to give us lectures on this an' that:

"Do somethin'," this old palooka usta say. "Don't stick around an' think too much. If you ain't gotta lead, make one. If you don't know what to do start measurin' up the room or talkin' to people, or creatin' situations in which guys who are tryin' to hide a fact you want, will get scared an' blow it."

Was he right or was he. OK. This is where I start.

First of all you are goin' to agree with me that I am entitled to think that everybody connected with this set-up is playin' me like I was a mug who is so dumb that he has got moss growin' out of his ears through not thinkin'. Everybody in this bezusus is tryin' to two-time somebody else. Start with Burdell; this guy, after doin' a big kind friend act with Henrietta an' gettin' the Aymes servants to say that she wasn't in New York on the night of the death, is now doin' everything he can to get the idea in my head that she bumped Granworth. Fernandez is helpin' him along. He pretends that he wanted to marry Henrietta until he got the idea that she was responsible for this counterfeitin' stuff an' then he changes his mind. Burdell helps along in this idea by sayin' that he only started to blow the works after he thought that Henrietta was in on the counterfeitin'.

An' what about Henrietta?

She just sticks around an' she don't say a durn thing that matters except to make a big play for me an' tell me that I am the cat's lingerie; that she could fall for me like a son of old coke an' that generally I have only gotta go for her an' I am right in the front row with bells on.

Me - I could go for Henrietta all right. But I do not make a play for dames that are suspects in murder cases. I think that it would interfere with business. Anyway she knows what my job is an' therefore she must not blame me if I kinda think she is tryin' to pull something very fast.

Maybe some of these guys are goin' to get surprised an' that goes for Henrietta too, because I am goin' to start somethin' an' I am goin' to start it right now.

An' I am not being side-tracked. If Burdell or Henrietta or anybody else think that I am the sorta guy who can be locoed off the job then they have gotta think some more.

There is only two angles on this job that interest me right now, an' I reckon you will agree with me when I say what they are. First of all I am very interested in the state of mind of this guy Granworth Aymes just before he died. It's stickin' out a mile that this palooka ain't got any cause to commit suicide. He has got dough; he has got health - because the Insurance Company passed him as fit-an' I am certainly not goin' to believe that he was goin' to commit suicide just because Henrietta tells him that she is goin' to take a run-out powder on him an' get a divorce. Why should he? A guy who is chasm' around with a lotta other dames - like Fernandez said he was-ain't goin' to get burned up just because his wife gets wise an jibs. The fact that he tried to commit suicide once before don't cut any ice. When he tried it before he was so drunk that he didn't know a thing.

When he said that he was goin' to start over again an' be a good guy maybe he meant it. It certainly looks like he did, because no guy is goin' to be mug enough to take out a big insurance policy an' pay a helluva down premium if he is goin' to bump himself off knowin' that the company have barred payment over suicide.

The fact that Granworth took out this policy stands out as bein' important to me.

The other thing is this Paulette Benito. The first idea that bumps into anybody's head is that maybe this dame has got somethin' to do with it. But I don't reckon that this is so because you gotta realise that if Burdell and Fernandez had wanted to get her in bad they coulda blown this woman stuff before and dragged her into it. No, I reckon that nobody thought that she was important in this thing an' that they didn't mention her because they wanted to concentrate attention on Henrietta.

But it is a cinch that this Paulette dame has got to know somethin'. If she was aces high with Granworth then I bet he woulda spoke to her about his wife; more so if he an' Henrietta was in bad with each other, an' maybe this Paulette can tell me somethin' about Henrietta that will shed a spotta light on the counterfeitin' job. I reckon I am goin' to see this Paulette just as soon as I have pulled a coupla other things around here, an' that dame is goin' to talk, an' talk plenty, even if she is in Mexico an' outa US jurisdiction; because you gotta realise that this dump Sonoyta where she is stayin' is right on the Mexican side of the Arizona state line an' if I have to get her into US territory to make her talk I am goin' to do it, an' I am not goin' to wait for any extradition either, even if I haveta take her over the line by her back hair.

An' all of this stuff will make it plain to you that I am gettin' good an' burned up about this business. Somebody is tryin' to take me for a ride an' I don't like it.

I put a call through to Metts, the Police Chief in Palm Springs, an' I have a little talk with him an' we fix things up.

Metts is a good guy an' has got intelligence. Also he is good at co-operatin', which is more than you can say about some coppers I have known.

We fix it this way. He is goin' to get two highway cops to run out to the Hacienda an' pick up Henrietta. They will bring her into Metts' office at eleven o'clock. At half past twelve, just when Periera an' Fernandez are wonderin' what it is all about, the cops will go back an' pull in those two heroes an' bring them along. After which I reckon that we will get goin'.

I fix myself up nice an' pretty. I put on a swell grey suit I have got an' a light grey fedora an' a silver grey tie, just so's to kid myself that I am goin' places, an' then I ease over to Metts' office at the police headquarters an' say how-do.

Metts gives me his office an' a cigar an' I sit there an' wait.

Pretty soon two cops bring in Henrietta. She is lookin' good an' surprised, an' she is also lookin' very swell. Boy, can that dame pick clothes an' wear 'em!

She is wearin' a lemon coloured suit that comes from some place where they know how to cut 'em. She is wearin' a brown silk shirt, a lemon panama wIth a brown silk band, brown an' white buckskin shoes an' tan silk stockin's.

She sits down in the chair that they have put for her on the other side of the big desk an' I see her lookin' at my hat which I have got well over one eye. The two highway cops go out an' leave us.

"Good morning, Lemmy," she says, like we was very old friends. She smiles at me. "What's happening?" she goes on. "Am I under arrest? An' I do wish you'd take your hat off to a lady."

"Nuts, sister," I tell her. "An' get a load of this. Whether I'm goin' to pinch you this mornin', or hold you as a material witness, or just grill you, I ain't quite decided. But I don't have to take my hat off when I'm talkin' to suspected crooks if I don't wanta, an' you can can all that nice stuff because you are beginnin' to make me tired. Got that?"

She looks as if she had been hit with a black-jack. Is she surprised? An' I don't wonder at it. Last night she is doin' a big act wIth me an' maybe thinks that she has got me where she wants me an' this mornin' I come back with some tough stuff that shakes her plenty. Wouldn't you be surprised?

"I've got it," she says finally, sorta cold. "And where do we go from there?"

"Just this far, sweetheart," I tell her. "I've decided to have the investigation into your husband's death reopened. I've come to the conclusion that Granworth Aymes was murdered, an' I think that maybe you know a durn sight more about it than you'd like to tell. I am also inclined to believe that you are holdin' out on me over this counterfeitin' business. I may also bring charges against you for endeavouring to pass here, at this Bank in Palm Springs, a counterfeit United States Registered Dollar Bond, knowin' at the time that it was phoney, an' how do you like that?"

"It doesn't interest me very much," she says. "But I don't like it and I don't like you at all today. You're behaving like a pig. I suppose you think that after last night...

"Can it, Henrietta," I tell her. "Why don't you turn that stuff off. Say, do you think that dames haven't tried to make me before. That's old hooey. You thought that I was gettin' after you; that maybe I was goin' to make a pinch, so you try that soft stuff last night an' think that I'm goin' to go all goofy. You remember that guys can play dames just as well as dames can play guys."

"I see," she says. "I suppose that's why you thrashed Fernandez. You wanted to get the idea into my head that you were a decent sort of man instead of a cheap, blustering Federal cop. All right, I'm wise now."

"Swell, sister," I say, "an' so am I. Now you get a load of this an' just answer my questions, otherwise I'm goin' to make things hot for you."

"Are you?" she says sorta insolent. "And supposing I don't want to answer them. Supposing I refuse to answer any questions unless I have a lawyer here?"

"OK," I say. "If you wanta lawyer you get one, but I'm tellin' you this, if you getta lawyer around here I'm goin' to send you back to New York so that the police there can grill hell outa you, so if you wanta getta mouthpiece you get busy."

She smiles again - a sorta sneering smile. She looks at me like I was something that crawled out from under some rock.

"All right," she says. "I'll answer your questions. But I wish I were a man. I'd like to thrash you until all that cheap lousy conceit was knocked right out of you. Do you get that? Another thing," she goes on, sorta gettin' into her stride, "I've got a better name for you. They made a mistake when they called you Lemmy-they should have called you Lousy, it would have matched up better"

"You don't say," I tell her. "Just thinka that now. OK. Well, now, if you've had your little say, I'll get busy an' then you can get outa here an' try some of that soft stuff on somebody else - Maloney or Periera or Fernandez or anbody else that's around. But in the meantime I just wanta know this an' I advise you to make it straight too. I wanta know just how you was dressed on the evenin' of the 12th January, the time you had your last talk with Granworth? Now get busy."

I take a sheet of paper an' a pencil an' I wait. When I look up I see that she has opened her bag an' is takin' a cigarette out.

"An' you can cut that out too," I tell her. "This is a police station an' you ain't smokin' here. Put it away."

She flushes red an' puts the case back inta her bag. As she does this I take out a packet of Camels an' give myself one. She watches me light it an' if she coulda murdered me at that moment she woulda done it an' liked it.

"Come on now, Henrietta," I say. "Quit stallin' an' cash in. What were you wearin' when you come up to New York from Connecticut on the 12th January? Start at the top with your hat."

She smiles. This dame can certainly be annoym'.

"I may not be able to remember," she says, "but I'll try. I suppose you want to know everything - even to the colour of my step-ins.

She hands me out another sarcastic smile that was just poison.

"To tell you the truth I hadn't thought about your under-wear," I crack, "but since you mention it you can tell me about that too!"

She gets up.

"You cheap gorilla," she says. She is white with rage.