An Ear to the Ground

Five

Martha, Henry, Gilda and Johnny sat around the table on the terrace and regarded Mrs. Lowenstein’s jewels. Gilda wanted to try on a ring. She wanted to try on one of the magnificent diamond and gold bracelets, but Martha scooped up the jewels and returned them to the wash-leather bag.

“Here, Henry, you take them,” she said and handed the bag across the table to Henry who dropped the bag into his pocket.

Martha sat back and surveyed the other three.

“Now for the second one. Mrs. Warren Crail. The take is six hundred and fifty thousand. She leaves on this fishing trip the day after tomorrow. We work the same carpet cleaning gag. We must know who has been left in the house.”

Two days later, Gilda, wearing her black wig, her prim dress and sun-goggles, called on the Crails’ sumptuous residence. The door was opened by the resident housekeeper, a thin, hard-faced woman who regarded Gilda suspiciously.

Gilda told her story, but she could see this woman wasn’t going to be convinced.

“Mrs. Crail has said nothing to me about it,” the woman said curtly. “Before I let you in, I must have it in writing from Mrs. Crail herself,” and she shut the door in Gilda’s face.

Gilda realised this could be dangerous. The woman had only to look in the telephone book to find the Acme Carpet Cleaning Co. didn’t exist. She drove rapidly back to the villa.

Martha listened to her recital, her fat face dark. She looked at Henry.

“What do you think?”

“It’s worth the risk,” Henry said, gnawing his moustache. “We know where the safe is. These two stand a good chance of breaking in. Yes, I think we should do it tonight. The prize is worthwhile.”

“Who’s taking the risk?” Johnny demanded, sitting forward. “Not you! I’m not breaking into a house I know nothing about. No... we’ll let this one cool off and try somewhere else. Let me look at that list.”

Henry passed the list over to him and exchanged looks with Martha. Johnny studied the list.

“How about the Lewis’s? This diamond necklace? How about grabbing that?” he asked.

“That’s out!” Martha snapped.

Johnny stared at her.

“What’s the matter with it... three hundred and fifty grand! That’s money!”

Martha had no intention of telling him that the necklace was insured by the National Fidelity and that Maddox of the Claims Department had got her a five year stretch. She kept her prison sentence to herself: only Henry knew about it.

“I tell you it’s out... so it’s out!”

Johnny shrugged.

“Don’t get worked up. Okay. How about Mrs. Alec Johnson? She’s on a yacht off Miami according to this. She has four hundred thousand dollars’ worth of stuff. Suppose we take a look at her place?”

“I still can’t see why we don’t do the Crail job,” Martha grumbled.

“You do it... I’m not going to. Let it cool off. How about the Jacksons?”

“All right, then we’ll do that.”

This time Gilda had no difficulty in getting into the house. The caretaker was an old man who had an eye for a pretty girl. He accepted Gilda’s story, took her over the house, let her measure the carpet in the main bedroom and gossiped. He told Gilda he was alone in the house and he gave her time to locate the safe and study the window locks.

On her return to the villa, she told them how easy it was. She described the locks on the windows to Johnny who nodded. He then studied the blueprint they had got from Raysons, then grinned.

“It’s easy. Okay, we’ll do it tonight.” He stood up. He was wearing a sweat shirt and swimming trunks. “I’m taking a swim.” He went off across the terrace and down to the beach.

Gilda got quickly to her feet and went to her room. In a few moments she reappeared wearing a bikini.

Martha said, “Gilda... just a moment.”

Martha said, Gilda demanded, pausing and frowning.

“You don’t have to be his shadow. You don’t have to keep looking at him as if you wanted to eat him. I’m warning you. He’s no good. Get him out of your mind.”

Gilda flushed scarlet. “Shut your mouth, you old fool!”

“I’m warning you,” Martha said, helping herself to a chocolate. “He’s no good.”

“Oh, go to hell!”

Gilda ran across the terrace and down to the beach.

Martha shrugged her fat shoulders.

“Well, I’ve warned her.”

“And very tactfully too,” Henry said dryly. “I’m taking a nap,” and he wandered away to his room.

Johnny saw Gilda plunge into the sea and he grinned to himself. He turned on his back and let her reach him.

“Do you think it’s going to work tonight?” Gilda asked, treading water.

“Why not?”

“It makes me nervous.”

Johnny grimaced, then turned and began to swim towards the beach.

Gilda hesitated, then aware Martha was watching, she swam out to sea.

I am in love with Johnny, she admitted to herself, but that doesn’t mean he can use me as he likes. He’s ruthless. If I went the whole way with him, he’d drop me. No... I’ve got to use my head if I’m to land him and I’m going to! Has he any idea that I’m in love with him? If Martha’s spotted it... has he? She felt a rush of blood to her face.

The second Big Take went off as easily as the first. The whole operation took only fourteen minutes, and they carried away with them four hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewellery.

As they drove back to the villa, Gilda said, “I can’t believe it. It’s too easy... so it scares me.”

“What’s there to be scared about?” Johnny asked impatiently. “That fat old bitch has brains. Her idea is smart. I have to hand it to her. In less than a week we have picked up five hundred thousand dollars’ worth of stuff: with little effort and no trouble. The owners don’t even know the stuff’s gone. The cops don’t know we exist. That’s smart.”

“But we haven’t the money,” Gilda pointed out. “That’s what is worrying me. We couldn’t sell the stuff ourselves. It is worthless to us as it is.”

Johnny frowned, his eyes narrowing. This hadn’t occurred to him.

“You’ve got something. Okay, we’ll do something about that. It’s time we had some cash. I’ll talk to the Colonel.”

They found Martha and Henry waiting for their return. After the jewels had been examined and put back in the bag, Johnny said, “Let’s see Abe tomorrow, Colonel, and get some cash on this lot and the other lot.”

Henry looked startled.

“That isn’t the arrangement. When we have the Crails’ collection, then we see Abe... and Martha and I see him... not you and I, Johnny”

Johnny smiled at him. He reached out and picked up the bag, holding it in his big fist as he stared levelly at Henry.

“You and me, Colonel,” he said quietly. “Tomorrow.”

“Now listen to me...” Martha began, her face turning purple.

“Quiet!” Johnny said. “I’m talking to the Colonel.” He continued to stare at Henry. “I want some money... not this stuff. I’m not waiting. You and me either go and see Abe tomorrow morning together or I go alone.”

Henry knew when he was licked. He knew this powerfully-built young man could brush him aside as if he were a fly. Johnny could go to Henry’s bedroom, find the other jewels and walk out on them. None of them could stop him.

“All right, Johnny,” Henry said mildly. “Then we’ll see Abe together tomorrow.”

Johnny put the bag of jewels back on the table, nodded, stood up and went to his room.

Martha waited until she heard his bedroom door shut, then looking at Gilda, she said viciously, “Maybe you’d better start loving up this sonofabitch. Someone’s got to control him!”

Gilda stared stonily at her, then got up and left them.

“So you think you can handle him!” Martha turned on Henry “When Abe pays out, that punk will take his share and we’ll never get our hands on it!”

Henry stroked his moustache.

“I must think about it.”

Martha snorted. She stumped off to bed. She was so furious she forgot to visit the refrigerator and only remembered when she was in bed.

“Oh, the hell with it!” she said to herself and turned off the light.

The following morning, Abe Schulman was sitting at his desk jotting down figures on a sheet of paper. He had had an unsatisfactory week. Although the season was in full swing, nothing of any account had passed through his hands. Police security had been drastically tightened up in Miami and the boys had been scared off. There hadn’t been one decent jewel robbery all the week.

He was surprised when Henry and Johnny walked into his office.

“Hello, Colonel... Johnny... what brings you here?”

“Money,” Johnny said, putting a briefcase on the desk.

Abe smiled bitterly.

“Who doesn’t want money?” His little eyes rested on the briefcase. “You got something for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait.” Abe got up and locked the office door.

Johnny unzipped the case, took from it three small wash-leather bags and a parcel done up in tissue paper. He undid the tape around the bags and poured the contents of the bags in separate piles on Abe’s blotter. At the sight of the diamonds, emeralds and rubies and four splendid ropes of pearls Abe sucked in his breath. This was the finest haul he had seen in years.

“The gold, silver and platinum settings are in the parcel, Abe,” Henry said.

They waited until Abe examined the various settings, then Johnny said, “The insurance value for this little lot is five hundred and eighty grand.”

Abe put on his deadpan expression. He lifted his fat shoulders.

“Never believe insurance values, Johnny, my boy. Quite fatal. Jewellery is always over insured... it’s a racket.”

He spread out the diamonds and breathed over them. He spent ten minutes examining the various stones, regarding the pearl necklaces, now and then screwing a watchmaker’s glass in his eye to examine a diamond more closely while Johnny and Henry watched.

Finally, he took the glass from his eye and began to make calculations on a sheet of paper. Then he dropped the pencil and looked at Henry.

“It’s good stuff, Colonel... no doubt about it, but at the present market calculation, I couldn’t get more than a hundred and fifty grand. You want a third? We agreed about that... sheer robbery... but we agreed and I’m a man of my word. So okay, I pay you fifty thousand dollars.” He smiled at Henry. “Right?”

“You can get more for this stuff than that, Abe. Come on, you don’t con me,” Henry said, shaking his head. “We expected it to go for two hundred thousand.”

“No, we don’t,” Johnny said quietly. “You’ll sell this stuff for three hundred and fifty thousand or you don’t get it!”

Abe sat back, a pained look of astonishment on his face.

“Are you crazy? Three hundred and fifty? Why I couldn’t possibly get two hundred. I know the market.”

“So do I,” Johnny said. “I’ve talked to Bernie Baum.”

Abe turned puce in the face.

“That thief! Don’t make me laugh! Now, listen, Johnny, I know what I’m talking about. I...”

“Shut up!” Johnny snarled and got to his feet. He leaned across the desk, glaring at Abe. “You pay us a hundred and twenty thousand as our cut or you don’t get the stuff. What’s it to be?”

Abe eased back in his chair.

“It’s impossible, Johnny, but I tell you what I’ll do. I’ll take a loss. The stuffs good... I admit that, but the market’s lousy. I’ll give you eighty thousand. How’s that?”

Johnny began to scoop up the diamonds, dropping them into one of the bags. When he began to pick up the emeralds, Abe said, “Now wait a minute... eighty thousand! It’s a fortune! I swear, Johnny, no one would give you more than fifty. I swear it.”

Johnny dropped the emeralds into the bag.

“What are you doing?” Abe asked, sweat glistening on his face.

“I’m showing this stuff to Baum,” Johnny said, dropping the pearl necklaces into the third bag.

“Now look, Johnny, use your head. Bernie won’t give you fifty for them. I know Bernie... he’s a thief.” Then as Johnny began to tape the bags, Abe went on hastily, “Okay, I’ll give you a hundred thousand. It’ll ruin me, but I don’t want you to get into Baum’s dirty hands... a hundred thousand.”

Johnny paused and looked at him.

“In cash?”

“Of course.”

“Right now?”

Abe threw up his hands.

“For God’s sake, Johnny, be reasonable. Would I have a hundred grand right here in my office? You’ll get the money in cash next week.”

“I get it right now or I go to Baum,” Johnny said, dropping the bags into the briefcase.

“But I haven’t got it!” Abe screamed, banging his lists on the desk. “Listen to me, you sonofabitch...” which was a mistake.

Johnny reached forward and caught hold of Abe’s shirt front. He gave him a little shake, snapping his head back.

“What did you call me?”

Abe wasn’t sure if his neck was broken. His fat face turned yellow and his eyes bulged.

“I take it back,” he gasped. “I apologise...”

Johnny released him with a violent shove that nearly sent Abe’s chair over backwards.

“I want cash. We’ll wait here. Your pals will lend it to you. Go out and raise it!”

“No one will lend me a hundred thousand!” Abe wailed. “You’re crazy. I just can’t...”

“Okay... so you can’t... I’m sick of you,” Johnny said. “I’m going to talk to Baum.”

Watching all this, Henry realised that Johnny was handling the haggling as he himself never could have handled it. He knew too that Abe would have talked him into accepting the fifty thousand dollar bid.

Then Abe did something he was to regret. He put his foot on a concealed button under his desk and rang an alarm bell. He always had two strong arm men lolling around in an office down the passage. When dealing with his various clients, Abe never knew when he might need protection and it seemed to him he needed it now.

“Hold it, Johnny. You’re a thief, but I’ll see what I can do. It’ll take time. Suppose you come back, huh? You can leave the stuff in my safe. I can’t raise a hundred thousand in five minutes.”

“I’ll give you three hours, Abe,” Johnny said quietly. “We’ll wait here.”

Abe hesitated, then shrugged, got up and took his hat off a peg.

“Well, okay, I’ll see what I can do.”

As he unlocked the door, Johnny said, “Abe...”

Abe paused and turned.

“Now what is it?”

“No tricks.”

The two men regarded each other, then Abe forced a smile.

“Of course not, Johnny... don’t be so suspicious. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

He left the room and they listened to his departing footfalls as he walked down the passage to the elevator.

“Very nice work, Johnny” Henry said. “I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

Johnny stared indifferently at him.

“You couldn’t have done it... period.”

Then the office door swung open and Abe’s two thugs moved in swiftly.

The bigger of the two was an immense Negro, standing well over six feet with shoulders like a barn door. His shaven head was glistening with sweat, his flat features were coarse and brutal. Known as Jumbo, he was regarded with terror in the slum district in which he lived. The other was Hank Borg, a sniffer, white, thin, not more than twenty years of age, his pinched rat-like face pitted with acne. He held a .38 automatic in his hand and his snake’s eye glistened with an insane fever.

Henry felt a cold wave of fear like icy water run over him. The size of this gigantic Negro horrified him.

With one swift movement, Johnny grabbed the briefcase and stood up. Looking at him, Henry saw there was a thin circle of white around Johnny’s mouth. Johnny backed away, watching Hank.

“Go ahead and shoot, creep,” he said softly. “Abe will love it.”

Hank said in a snarling whisper, “I’ll bust your goddamn leg. Put that case back on the table.”

Johnny continued to back away. He was now away from the desk and had space to manoeuvre.

“Take it easy, Colonel,” he said. “The junkie daren’t shoot. He’s bluffing.”

Hank looked uneasily at the Negro.

“Take him... we’re wasting time.”

The enormous Negro’s brutal face split into a sneering grin.

“Come on, little man, hand it over.”

Johnny dropped the briefcase on the floor beside him.

“Come and get it,” he said, standing motionless, his hands hanging by his sides.

The Negro had to pass Henry and come around the desk to reach Johnny. He moved very swiftly. Henry, his old heart beating violently, slid out his long leg as the Negro swept past him. His Mexican booted foot caught the Negro’s ankle. The Negro stumbled, struggled to regain his balance as Johnny was on him, fingers laced, smashed down on the back of the Negro’s neck, driving him to his knees. Johnny jumped back and kicked the Negro on the side of the face. The Negro’s skin burst under the impact like an overripe tomato dropped on the floor and blood splashed on Johnny’s shoe. The Negro grunted, shook his head and began to heave himself up, blood pouring down his face. Johnny waited until the dazed giant was on his knees, then he struck him a vicious karate blow on the side of his thick neck. The Negro’s eyes rolled back and he flattened out on Abe’s shabby carpet.

Johnny turned and looked at Hank who was backing away.

“Get out!” he said softly.

Hank turned and fled.

Johnny looked down at the bleeding Negro, then he looked at Henry.

“You all right?”

Henry was pressing his hand hard to his heart. He was breathing unevenly. These brief moments of violence had shaken him, but he nodded.

“Sure?”

“Yes... I’m all right.”

Johnny grinned.

“You’ve got guts, Colonel. I said it before and I’ll say it again. That foot work of yours needed nerve. You handed this ape to me on a plate.”

He caught hold of Jumbo’s right ankle and dragged him out of the office, across the corridor to the top of the stairs. Then with a vicious kick, he propelled the great body down the long flight of stairs to land with a crash on the lower landing.

Abe, concealed by the bend of the corridor, watched this with his eyes bulging out of his head. When he was sure Johnny had returned to the office, he went up to Jumbo, slapped his face and dragged him upright.

Jumbo moaned, shaking his head.

“Get the hell out of here, you useless jerk!” Abe snarled, then he went to the elevator and took it to the ground floor, knowing now he just had to raise credit from somewhere.

Three hours and five minutes later, he returned to the office, an oily smile on his fat face. He placed a briefcase on the desk.

“All fixed, Johnny. It was tricky, but I got you your money,” he said. “Go ahead and count it.”

Johnny opened the briefcase, divided the money, giving Henry half. They counted it. The sum was for one hundred thousand dollars in $50 bills.

“Fine,” Johnny said. He pushed two of the wash-leather bags over to Abe. Then he opened the third and took from it a treble rope of pearls. These he dropped into his pocket, then tossed the bag over to Abe.

“Hey! What do you think you are doing?” Abe exclaimed. “I’ve just bought those pearls!”

“No, you haven’t. This is treachery money. I warned you not to play tricks,” Johnny said. He walked over to Abe who cowered away from him. “The next time you pull a stunt like that on me, I’ll break your neck.” He moved to the door, nodding to Henry. “Let’s go, Colonel.”

Not looking at Abe, Henry followed him to the elevator.

In the meantime, Lisa and Harry had returned home. Although Lisa looked better for the sea trip, she was still in pain. The new drugs had done little for her. She was still short tempered and kept picking on Harry because he hadn’t sold the Texan.

But by now, Harry was past caring about Lisa’s criticisms. He had had three unforgettable days and two unforgettable nights with Tania, that alone was worth anything that Lisa threw at him.

He also knew that in two days’ time there was to be the annual general meeting of the Cohen Self-Service Stores in San Francisco. Lisa always attended this meeting, and Harry felt that he could duck out of it since he had been away from the office for so long. But it wasn’t to be. Optimistically, he had already alerted Tania that he would be free for two nights so when Lisa announced that she didn’t feel well enough to attend the meeting and that Harry must go as her representative. Harry nearly blew his stack. But he had no argument nor excuse to duck out, so he had to go.

That night, he sneaked out of the house and went with Tania to the apartment. He broke the news to her.

Tania nodded gravely.

“It is destiny, Harry. Do you believe in destiny?”

“Sure,” Harry said. He wasn’t interested in destiny right at this moment. “It’s stinking bad luck. Anyway, there it is. I have to go.”

“And she will be alone... with her nurse?”

“And all the other servants... you don’t have to bother your head about her.”

“She’ll go to bed at ten-thirty as you told me she always does with a sleeping pill, I suppose?” Tania said, not looking at him. “It’s sad for her, isn’t it?”

“Oh, forget it.” Harry put his arm around her. “Let me tell you something... you are looking very overdressed.”

Tania smiled.

“That can be arranged very quickly... she won’t have friends while you are away?”

“No. When she entertains, I have to be there. Now come on, Tania! Get those clothes off.”

Harry returned around two o’clock in the morning to the house. He let himself in and moved silently to his room. Then he had a shock that sent a cold wave of blood rushing up his spine. At the far end of the corridor, he saw Lisa’s bedroom door was open and the light was on.

“Harry?” The hard querulous voice struck terror in Harry’s heart.

He braced himself and walked slowly down the corridor and paused in Lisa’s doorway.

She was propped up in bed. A copy of War and Peace lay by her side. Her pinched, pain-ridden face was pale, her big eyes glittering.

“Where have you been?”

Harry realised unless he could bluff his way out of this situation, he was in serious trouble.

“Why, Lisa,” he said, coming into the room and closing the door. “Why aren’t you asleep? Are you in pain?”

“Where have you been?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I went for a walk.” He came to the bed and sat by her.

“A walk? At this time... it’s after two. I don’t believe you!”

“Lisa... please...” Harry forced a smile, aware sweat was running down his back. “You have enough problems of your own. I haven’t told you... I sleep badly. I have things on my mind... I find when I can’t sleep, the best thing to do is to get up, dress and take a walk... then when I come back I do sleep.”

Her glittering eyes were suspicious.

“Have you found a whore?” she demanded and the viciousness in her voice chilled Harry’s blood.

God! This is dangerous! he thought.

“Lisa... how could you say such a thing?” He had to convince her and although his hypocrisy sickened him, he continued, as he leaned forward, forcing his eyes to meet hers, “You and I are in this mess together. It is a mess... it’s not what marriage should be, but because of you, I have accepted the situation. There is no other woman in my life except you. If you can’t believe this, then I have failed you. I have told you before and I’m telling you again, that first time when you and I made love was the best ever. So wonderful, I can live with it now and for always.”

Hearing himself say these words, Harry was ashamed of himself, but he was so frightened he let his lies flow.

She regarded him for a long, shattering moment, then she shrugged.

“All right, Harry, I understand. Get some sleep now. You have two busy days ahead of you.”

Harry got slowly to his feet, scarcely believing she had accepted his story and wishing she didn’t continue to stare at him so suspiciously.

“Yes... I’m sure to sleep now.”

As he reached the door, feeling he had saved the situation, she said, “Harry...”

He paused, his heart thumping.

“Yes, darling?”

“Please don’t go out walking again. It has upset me so. When I telephoned your room and got no answer, I was frightened. If you can’t sleep, please come and talk to me. Will you?”

With a sinking heart, realising the trap he had walked into, Harry nodded.

“Of course, darling, I won’t do it again.”

Martha and Gilda were on the terrace when Henry came slowly across the blue and white tiles.

“Well, what happened?” Martha demanded. “Did you get the money?”

Henry sank into a chair. He was still feeling shaken.

“Gilda, my dear, would you get me a strong whisky?”

Seeing his grey, drawn face, Gilda went swiftly across the lounge to the bar.

“Did you get the money?” Martha banged her small, fat fist on the bamboo table.

“Johnny’s got it.”

“Johnny?” Martha’s voice went up a note. “Where is he?”

“In his room.”

“So Johnny’s got it!” Martha shifted her bulk in the chair, making it creak. “So you can’t handle him! It’s a wonder I don’t have a stroke!”

“Calm yourself. I would never have got it. At least, we have something,” Henry said, hesitated, then went on, “Martha... I’ve been thinking... we’re getting too old for this racket.”

“You mean you’re getting too old!” Martha snorted. “I’m not!”

Gilda came out, carrying a stiff whisky and soda.

“Thank you, my dear,” Henry said, taking the glass from her. He swallowed half its contents, then set the glass down and touched his lips with his handkerchief.

“Stop acting like a goddamn ham!” Martha shouted. “What happened?”

Henry told her.

“The fact is, Martha, we wouldn’t have got a dime if it hadn’t been for Johnny. Abe was going to twist us. Those two thugs could have walked out with all the stuff and Abe would have sworn he knew nothing about them.”

This news shook Martha. Her fat flesh quivered.

“I thought we could trust Abe.”

“Can we trust anyone?”

Johnny came out on to the terrace. He tossed a bundle of $50 bills on the table.

“There you are... sixty-six thousand, six hundred and sixty-seven bucks. Share it among yourselves. I’ve taken my share.”

“How about that pearl necklace?” Martha snapped.

Johnny grinned at her.

“That’s danger money... I’m keeping it.” He went over to a chair and sat down. “Now look... what you three don’t seem to realise is that you are in big time, but you are small timers. This is a rough, tough racket. It all falls on me, so I get the major share.”

Martha began to explode, but a look from Henry stopped her.

Henry said quietly, “Yes, I follow your argument, Johnny, but let us be fair. This was Martha’s brainwave. She has produced the brains and... I admit it... you the brawn. I think we should split the value of the pearls between us.”

Johnny threw back his head and laughed.

“Who are you kidding? Who haggled with Abe? Who handled that black ape? Who got the jewels anyway? Okay, it was her idea, but any dope can dream up an idea, but that doesn’t mean he can carry it out. None of you could have swung this job and got a hundred grand out of Abe if I hadn’t handled it... so shut up!” He turned to look at Gilda. “Do you want to eat out? I need a change. There’s a sea food restaurant I fancy... want to come along?”

Gilda stared with startled surprise, but she got quickly to her feet.

“Yes... I would like that.”

“Okay. Throw some clothes on and we’ll go.”

Her face slightly flushed, Gilda hurried away to her room.

He’s nibbling at the bait, she thought happily as she slipped out of her bikini. Play it cool, baby, and you’ll land him.

On the terrace, Johnny lit a cigarette.

“The day after tomorrow,” he said, “I’ll take a look at the Crails’ house. I guess I can get in if I wear that electrician’s uniform. Nothing like a uniform to fool the suspicious. Then we’ll do the job. It’s worth six hundred and fifty grand. I’ll sell the stuff to Bernie Baum. I’ve had enough of Abe. Bernie can have it for three hundred. He’ll jump at it for that price. That’s two hundred grand for you three.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Martha screamed furiously. “I make the plans! Henry fixes the prices!”

“Oh, shut up, Fatso,” Johnny said. “I’m handling this. Neither of you have a hope of dealing with Baum. You’re too old!”

Seeing Martha was about to explode, Henry said quietly, “He’s right, Martha. Okay, Johnny, we leave it to you.”

Martha was so angry she couldn’t trust herself to speak. She sat there, her fat flesh quivering.

Gilda came out on to the terrace. She was wearing a simple blue frock. She looked cool and lovely. Johnny regarded her and Gilda thought there could be sudden interest in his eyes.

They went off together in the Cadillac.

“Got your money yet?” Johnny asked as he sent the big car fast along the beach road.

“Henry’s keeping it for me.”

“That wise?”

“I trust Henry”

“Good for you.”

There was a long pause, then Gilda said, “You should watch out for Martha. She hates you.”

Johnny laughed.

“That fat old slug? What can she do to me?”

“Don’t be too sure... she’s dangerous.”

Johnny laughed again.

The restaurant Johnny took her to had a jetty out in the sea, and on this jetty, the tables were set. There were coloured lights, a band playing soft swing and the place was crowded.

As Gilda walked to their table, she saw the male diners were looking at her with alert interest. She tilted her chin and swung her hips a little. It pleased her to be looked at and so obviously admired.

The service was quick and smooth and the food excellent. While they were eating lobster cocktails, Gilda became aware of a woman diner alone on the other side of the aisle who continually stared at Johnny. This woman was around thirty-six or possibly thirty-eight: slim, blonde, wearing an expensive but plain white dress. She had classical features, cold, hard and sensual. Her steel blue eyes scarcely left Johnny.

Johnny seemed relaxed and unaware that he was being scrutinised.

“We do the final job the night after next,” he said as he finished the cocktail. “Hmmm... that was good.”

“It was marvellous. The Crails’ place?”

“That’s it. Then I’m off.”

Gilda felt a little pang ran through her.

“You mean you’re leaving?”

He looked up, frowning.

“Of course. You can’t imagine I’m staying in this plush dump longer than I can help, do you?”

Gilda pressed her hands to her breasts.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, for God’s sake! I told you... Carmel.”

The sole in lobster sauce with truffles was placed before them. Gilda found she had lost her appetite.

“Johnny...”

He was eating. He glanced up.

“Huh?”

“Must you rush off? We have the villa for another two weeks. Won’t you stay until then?” Gilda moved the food on her plate with her fork. “We could get to know each other better.”

Johnny grinned. He forked a piece of lobster meat to his mouth.

“There’s no reason why we shouldn’t get to know each other better after dinner, is there?”

Gilda stiffened, feeling blood rash to her face. She stared at him.

Johnny regarded her, saw her shocked expression, grimaced, then shrugged.

“Okay, let’s skip it.”

They ate in silence. Gilda felt the food would choke her. Then the woman’s stare finally attracted Johnny’s attention. He had been vaguely aware of being watched and now the feeling had become acute. He turned his head slowly and looked at the woman who stared directly at him as she toyed with her wine glass. The brash, sensual look told him here was a blatant invitation. For two or three seconds they continued to stare at each other, then Gilda, watching, said sharply, “Are you dreaming or something, Johnny?”

Johnny dragged his eyes from the woman.

“A real pair of hot pants over on my right,” he said, grinning. “Is she after a man!”

“Yes. A horrible woman!” Gilda said, trying to keep the alarm out of her voice. “A whore!”

Johnny smiled cynically.

“Do you think so? I don’t. She’s honest. She’s telling me that she wants me. I dig for a woman like that. She saves a man time. This no-I-don’t-yes-I-might drag bores me.”

Gilda pushed her plate aside. She felt slightly sick.

“I see. I’m sorry I’m boring you.”

Johnny shrugged indifferently.

“Well, if that’s the way you are made, that’s the way you’re made... simple as that.”

The night, the moon, the sea, the coloured lights, the music all collapsed on Gilda.

“Is it?” Her voice trembled. “Isn’t there such a thing as love?”

Johnny leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows lifting.

“Oh, come on, baby, grow up! What is love but sex?” He leaned forward, staring at her, his eyes hot and intent. “Let’s get the hell out of here. Let’s go down to the beach. I have a yen for you and I know you have a yen for me. I can see it... it’s there in your eyes. Let’s get laid tonight. Come on, baby, let’s set the night on fire.”

Gilda’s hands gripped her bag, her nails digging into the soft fabric.

“How can you talk to me this way? Johnny! I love you!” Her lips trembled and her face was pale.

An expression of disgust and suspicion crossed Johnny’s face.

“Oh, God! One of those! Listen, baby, I...”

Gilda got to her feet.

Speaking softly so no one except Johnny could hear, she said, her voice unsteady, “Enjoy yourself. Take that whore. You can walk home. Martha was right... you are no good,” and she moved swiftly from the table and away down the aisle.

Johnny remained motionless. A sudden black rage surged through him. He had to make an effort to restrain himself from sweeping the contents of the table on to the floor.

Love... marriage... he didn’t want that! A woman could have no permanent place in his life. He wanted his garage, his fast cars and around him men who knew and talked cars.

Always goddamn complications, he thought savagely. The moment he had seen Gilda he had wanted her physically, but not permanently. He knew he wouldn’t want her when she had to dye her greying hair. He wanted her now! The thought of living permanently with her when the sex thing had gone cold and she ran his home, grumbling about how he dirtied things up, providing him with the deadly, dreary meals for lunch and dinner and dinner and lunch, day after day, nagging him if he were late when he was working on some car... hell! No! That he couldn’t take!

A low, musical voice said, “Did she walk out on you?”

Johnny stiffened and found the blonde woman had crossed the aisle and was now sitting where Gilda had been sitting.

Looking at her, seeing her heavy breasts under the white frock and the cold, sophisticated beauty, Johnny felt a surge of lust run through him.

“That’s what she did,” he said. “She’s the virgin type.”

The woman laughed. Her laugh was attractive. She threw her head back, revealing a beautiful throat: her teeth were perfect.

“I thought so. But I’m not. What’s your name?”

“Johnny”

“Johnny... I like that. I’m Helene.” The steel blue eyes hotly devoured him. “Why waste time, Johnny? I know what you want. I want what you want. Shall we go?”

Johnny snapped his fingers at a passing waiter for his check.

“Oh, forget it,” she said impatiently, getting to her feet. “They know me here. The check will be taken care of.”

So what? Johnny thought. I’ll give this bitch value for money.

With the eyes of everyone in the restaurant on him, he followed the woman down the jetty.

Martha had just finished dinner when Gilda came up the terrace steps. Henry, who was pouring himself a brandy, looked up, surprised.

“Where’s Johnny?” Martha demanded, seeing Gilda was alone.

Her eyes bright with tears, Gilda didn’t pause. She threw over her shoulder, “I don’t know, and who the hell cares?”

Her bedroom door slammed.

Martha was about to select a coffee cream from a large box of chocolates Henry had brought her. She paused and stared at Henry.

“Now, what’s going on?”

Henry shook his head, his expression a little sad.

“Young people... it’s the salt in their lives to quarrel. Don’t you remember when you were young?”

Martha snorted.

“He’s no good. I knew it the moment I saw him. He’s a goddamn sonofabitch!”

“I wouldn’t go as far as saying that,” Henry said and sipped his brandy. “He’s made us a lot of money.”

While Gilda was lying face down on her bed, crying, Johnny was sitting beside the blonde woman as she drove her Mercury Cougar along the beach road. From time to time, she put her hand high up on his thigh, squeezing his muscles.

“You’re not just all muscle, are you, Johnny?” she asked.

Johnny laughed.

“Wait and see.”

She glanced at him, her eyes alight, her lips curved in a sensuous smile.

“You won’t be disappointed. I’m just wondering if I will be.”

“Wait and see. Where are we going?”

“To my place. My dear, aged, impotent husband is in New York.” Her fingers dug deeply into Johnny’s muscles. Impatiently, he swept her hand away.

They eventually drove through a high, open gateway and pulled up outside an imposing looking house that was in darkness.

“The slaves are asleep,” Helene said as they got out of the car. “Don’t make a noise.”

A few seconds later, they were in a big, luxuriously furnished bedroom. Helene walked to the bed, then turned and faced Johnny as he came towards her. She was breathing rapidly and there was a queer, almost insane look in her steel blue eyes. She swung her evening bag and hit Johnny violently across his face. The metal clasp of the bag cut the side of his nose. He started back, staring at her in angry astonishment as he felt blood running down his face and on to his shirt, then as she swung the bag again, he caught her wrist and wrenched the bag out of her hand.

With blood dripping over both of them, Johnny tore the dress off her and flung her on the bed.

Around four o’clock the following morning, Martha woke, feeling hungry. She lay in the dark, trying to make up her mind whether to try to sleep or whether to get up and visit the refrigerator. As always, the refrigerator won. She turned on the light, put on a wrap and plodded to the kitchen. There was a mess of cold spaghetti, onions and tomatoes with some minced veal that took her fancy. She was reaching for the bowl when she heard a door open and then shut softly. Frowning, she went into the corridor. Johnny was moving silently to his bedroom. Seeing her, outlined in the kitchen door, he paused.

“Hello,” he said. “Are you stuffing your gut?”

“Never mind what I’m doing!” Martha snapped. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think? I’m going to bed.”

Martha turned on the corridor light. She stared at Johnny, a cold wash of fear running over her.

Dried blood caked his face. He had a cut on the side of his nose. There were big splashes of blood on his white shirt.

“What have you been doing?” Martha demanded, her voice quavering.

“Making love to a buzz saw,” Johnny said and grinned. “Good night,” and he went into his bedroom and closed the door.

Martha found she had lost her appetite. Turning off the lights, she returned to her bed. Making love to a buzz saw. What did that mean? She had a cold presentiment that Johnny was edging them all into the worst kind of trouble. All that blood! What had he been doing?

While this was going on, Harry Lewis lay sleepless in a bedroom at the San Francisco Hilton Hotel. The annual general meeting had gone off slickly and with no trouble. All the stockholders were happy, but Harry wasn’t. He had been acutely aware that the directors of Cohen’s Self-Service Stores regarded him as a gigolo. The Trustees of the estate scarcely bothered to speak to him. Although he had made notes, asked questions, collected all the papers relating to the meeting for Lisa, he knew these hatchet-faced men regarded him as a poor joke.

The bastards! Harry thought, tossing in his bed. My God! One of these days, if I get the chance, I’ll pay them back!

Then to try to quieten his seething mind, he turned his thoughts to Tania. He thought of her with affection. But what was he to do about seeing her in the future? He dared not sneak out of his room at night again. This would be taking too great a risk. He realised the trap he was in. Sunday morning would be his only chance now, and Lisa might even stop that. Still worrying, still trying to find a solution, he eventually fell asleep.

It was a little after eight o’clock the following morning, when he was awakened by the telephone bell buzzing discreetly. Yawning, he answered.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Lewis? This is Dr. Gourley calling from Paradise City.”

Harry came awake with a jerk. He sat up.

“Yes? What is it?”

He listened to the calm, quiet voice and cold sweat broke out on his face and body.

“What are you saying?” His voice shot up. “Lisa dead! Murdered! You’re crazy? What are you saying?”

He threw off the sheet and sat now on the edge of the bed.

The quiet, calm voice continued to speak.

Harry shut his eyes. He couldn’t believe what the doctor was telling him.

“Yes, of course I’ll come. Yes... the first available plane. The... what was that?”

“The Esmaldi necklace has been stolen,” Gourley said. “This seems to be the motive for the murder, Mr. Lewis. The police are here. They naturally want to talk to you.”

Harry hung up. He remained motionless.

Lisa dead! Murdered!

He thought of her... what she had done for him... her tempers... her poor pain ridden scraggy body... her pitiful hooked nose.

Murdered!

He drew in a long, shuddering breath.

He continued to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to control his emotions.

Lisa dead! It didn’t seem possible. Then it slowly dawned on him that now he was free.

Now he owned everything that she had owned. Now he had no need to plot and plan nor to tell lies...

He got unsteadily to his feet and began to pack.

Flo wheeled the breakfast trolley into Martha’s room. She smiled happily, showing her enormous white teeth.

“I have a little change for you, Miss Martha.”

Martha sat up in bed, leaned forward to peer as Flo removed the silver cover. The six lightly poached eggs, lying on beds of foie gras on thin toast and four slices of smoked salmon done in rolls made Martha’s eyes widen with pleasure.

“That looks like a masterpiece, Flo,” she said. “A very happy idea.”

Flo beamed. She was always thinking up changes for Martha’s breakfast and she could see the fat woman was delighted.

Martha began to eat, then seeing it was approaching nine o’clock, she turned on her transistor radio, permanently tuned to the Paradise City radio station. Martha believed in listening in to all the local news.

She had finished one egg and was starting on the second when the time signal for nine o’clock popped.

Three minutes later, her meal forgotten, she was out of bed, her fat face like cold pork fat, sweat beads on her forehead.

She struggled into her wrap as she lumbered down the corridor and out on to the terrace.

Henry and Gilda were drinking coffee in the sunshine. The sight of Martha looking wild and terrified, brought both of them to their feet.

It took Martha several seconds to become coherent. Then she told them what the radio announcer had been broadcasting. Lisa Lewis, the richest woman in Paradise City and possibly the fourth richest woman in the world, had been battered to death and the famous Esmaldi necklace had been stolen.

“It’s that bastard!... That sonofabitch, Johnny!” Martha wailed. “He knew she had the necklace! He wanted to steal it! I told him no! But he’s done it and the bitch-bastard has killed her! I caught him coming in last night... covered in blood! God! We’re fixed, Henry. That goddamn necklace is insured by Maddox. Do you hear? We’re fixed!” She dropped into a chair, moaning.

Henry suddenly felt very old and feeble. His heart began to beat sluggishly. He couldn’t think.

“I... I don’t believe it,” he muttered. “Johnny wouldn’t do a thing like that.”

“I tell you I saw him come sneaking in last night! It was four o’clock. He was smothered in blood!” Martha screamed, thumping her enormous bosom, trying to catch her breath. “Who else could have opened a Raysons’ safe? He knew the blueprint! The bastard intended to gyp us! He went there, she caught him, so he killed her. Then he took the necklace! Henry! We’re fixed!”

“Shut up!” Gilda exclaimed, her voice hard and shrill. “How do you know he did it?”

She rushed across the terrace and down the corridor to Johnny’s room. She threw open the door, then she paused, her hand flying to her mouth.

Johnny was sleeping. A deep cut of dried blood showed on his nose. A bloodstained shirt lay on the floor. There were scratches on his naked arms... nail scratches.

Gilda felt a cold shudder run through her. She went over to him, grabbed his shoulder and shook him awake.