There’s Always A Price Tag

Chapter Three

With my jacket off and my collar undone, a cigarette between my fingers, I lay on the bed and bent my mind to the situation as I knew it so far.

It was obvious that Helen was waiting for Dester to die, and she was getting impatient with the wait. I could understand that: seven hundred and fifty thousand was a tantalizing sum to wait for.

It seemed, if I could believe Simmonds and Jack Solly, that before very long Dester would be in financial trouble if he wasn’t there already. The premium of a life policy as big as the one he held would cost a lot of dough: at a guess it would knock his income back something like eight or maybe ten thousand dollars a year. It didn’t seem likely that he could continue to dish out that kind of money. I wished now that I had had time to examine the policy and find out when the next premium was due. It was more than probable he wouldn’t be able to pay it and if he couldn’t, the policy would lapse. Unless there was a special clause in the policy, there would then be no three-quarters of a million for Helen if he died. She probably knew that, and that was why she was so anxious to get rid of me. It seemed to me she was relying on Dester killing himself in a car smash before the premium had to be paid.

But now she had failed to get rid of me, and the chances of Dester having a car smash were remote, what was she going to do? She had only a certain amount of time before the premium fell due, so she couldn’t afford to wait for him to drink himself to death. What I wanted to know was whether she wanted that money badly enough to hurry his death along.

I remembered what Solly had said: another guy threw himself out of a window because of her.

I had a hunch that this other guy might give me the key to the present setup. If I could find out who he had been and why he had thrown himself out of the window I might be able to assess better just how far she would go to get her hands on the money.

How could I find this out?

Dester had met her in New York. Presumably this other guy had thrown himself out of a window somewhere in New York.

It looked to me as if I would need outside help on this job. The obvious way to get the dope on this other guy would be to hire an inquiry agent, but inquiry agents cost money.

I suddenly snapped upright. Why was I all this interested? I asked myself. Why was I suddenly so determined to stick my nose into something that didn’t concern me? I knew the answer, of course, but I didn’t like admitting even to myself what the answer was.

When I had found that Helen would collect three-quarters of a million dollars at Dester’s death, a gnawing envy had taken hold of me. I began to ask myself if there was any chance to horn in and get a share of this money. I knew I had no claim to it, but it seemed to me that if Helen was planning to hurry Dester’s death along, then I had a claim. If I could prove she had hurried his death along, I would have a hold on her. I knew the word for that kind of thing, but I wanted some of that money so badly I didn’t flinch from the word.

At the moment I was on the outside, looking in. I was like a member of a theatre audience. The curtain was up; the actors and actresses were on the stage, the plot was beginning to unfold, but I had no part in it. Somehow I had to get up on to that stage and join in the action.

It seemed to me that it was time to have a straight talk with myself, to examine my conscience and find out just how far I would go for a share in that money. This was between me and me, and if I couldn’t be frank with myself, I couldn’t be frank with anyone.

Everything depended, of course, on the share I was going to get. The bigger the share, the bigger the risk I would be prepared to take. How much could I grab without causing too much opposition? Half? A quarter?

I remembered one of Solly’s many sales slogans: Always ask for twice as much as you expect: you may surprise yourself and get it.

Then I would go for half: three hundred and fifty grand.

I lay staring up at the ceiling as I tried to visualize what it would mean to have all that money. The most money I had ever earned in a year was four thousand bucks, and that was in the hey-day of the boom and I had sweated my guts out to earn it.

Three hundred and fifty thousand!

It set my heart hammering to think of all that money. It would change my life. How far would I go, how much would I risk to put my hands on that much money?

A word jumped into my mind and I flinched from it. Then I remembered I was being frank with myself.

Murder?

Would I commit murder for such a sum?

It was one thing to lie on this bed and contemplate murdering Dester for that money, but another thing to do it. Even if I could screw up enough guts to do it, there was the risk.

If he were murdered, the first person the police would suspect would be Helen. I had a fair idea how a policeman’s mind would work on a set up like this. He would reason Helen wanted to get rid of her husband to get the insurance money. He’d figure she was unlikely to do the actual killing herself. He would look around for the other man, and he would spot me.

Then there was the insurance company to think of. They wouldn’t pay out all that dough without a fight. Their own dicks were tougher, smarter and a lot more dangerous than the police.

No, murder was too risky: straightforward murder that is, but how about murder by remote control? As Helen was planning it? It was easy enough. Dester had only to take the car out when he was full of liquor or walk into a stream of fast-moving traffic and that would be that. That seemed better to me, but suppose he didn’t take the car out or walk across a street when he was plastered? How long had I got before the premium was due? That was the vital point.

Helen must know that time was pressing. Wouldn’t it be the smart thing for me to do to wait for her to get rid of Dester, keep clear of it, and then move in and make her part with half?

That brought me back to the guy who had fallen out of a window. Was this something in her past that I could hook her with? Then I suddenly thought of Solly. He had contacts in New York. He might be able to get me the dope if I could persuade him to take the trip.

I looked at my watch. It was just after seven o’clock. I couldn’t imagine that Dester would be going out this night. The sooner I talked to Solly the better. I picked up the telephone and called his apartment.

There was a delay before he answered.

‘I want to talk to you, Jack,’ I said. ‘Can you meet me at Sam’s bar in half an hour?’

‘Not tonight I can’t. I’ve got me a heavy date. What’s biting you?’

‘Nothing’s biting me, but plenty will bite you if you don’t hustle over to Sam’s bar.’

There was a pause while he wrestled with himself, then I heard him heave a sigh.

‘Well, okay, if you snap it up I can still keep my date. I don’t have to meet her for another hour.’

‘Sam’s bar in twenty minutes or faster,’ I said and hung up.

I changed into my suit and started down the drive at a fast clip. I would have liked to borrow one of the cars, but I wasn’t going to ask permission, and I knew it would be unsafe if I didn’t ask permission.

Solly was impatiently waiting for me as I came into the bar. I took him to the end booth against the wall where we could talk without being overheard and told the waiter to bring us a couple of highballs.

‘What’s this about?’ he asked as soon as the waiter had put the drinks in front of us and had moved away.

‘Yeah. Now listen: you remember what you said about Mrs. Dester? About a guy who threw himself out of a window because of her?’

Solly grimaced. ‘Yeah, but what’s that got to do with me? Look, if you’ve brought me here...’

‘Take it easy,’ I said, patting his arm. ‘Who told you about this guy?’

‘Search me,’ Solly said, shrugging. ‘People tell me things all the time. I wouldn’t know.’

‘Was it true?’

‘I guess so. What are you getting so excited about? What’s Mrs. Dester to do with this proposition of yours?’

‘Do you know for certain this guy fell out of a window?’

He stared at me. ‘Does anyone know anything for certain? What is all this about?’

I sat back, drank some of the highball while I looked at him. ‘How would you like to pick up five hundred bucks?’ I asked.

He scratched the side of his beaky nose with a dirty fingernail. ‘Are you kidding?’

‘This isn’t the time to kid. There’s five C’s waiting for you if you’re prepared to make yourself useful.’

‘Is this some racket?’ Solly asked, his eyes hard. ‘Now look, you...’

‘I know, I know. Let me do the talking, will you? I’m offering you the chance to get in on something on the ground floor, but you must be prepared to gamble with me and you must also be prepared to do some preliminary work before you cash in.’

‘I don’t think I like the sound of this,’ he said slowly. ‘You can’t lay your hands on five bucks let alone five hundred. What the hell gives? Look, I’m passing up a good date because I thought you meant business.’

‘I know,’ I interrupted. ‘Coming from me it sounds nuts, but it isn’t anything like as nutty as it sounds. The point is how much do you want to know about it?’

He shifted impatiently.

‘How much do I want to know? I want to know the whole works, of course.’

I stared at him. ‘Sure you do?’

‘What are you getting at?’

‘I want some information about Helen Dester,’ I said, lowering my voice. ‘I think you can get this information. When I’ve got it, I’ll be in a position to pay you five hundred, but not before.’ I paused to stare at him again. ‘Now do you want to know the whole works?’

He started to say something, then the nickel dropped and his hatchet face tightened. ‘Now wait a minute. That kind of racket is dynamite. A blackmailer.’

‘Shut up, pea brain! Who’s talking about blackmail?’ I said, keeping my voice down. ‘I’m offering you five hundred dollars to dig into Helen Dester’s past and to turn over to me what you find. I didn’t say anything about blackmail.’

‘I’ve had one run in with the cops, Glyn,’ he said, ‘I can’t risk another.’

‘Who’s talking about the cops?’ I said curtly. ‘But if that’s the way you feel I can get someone else to do the job.’

He studied me, then shrugged. ‘Okay, I could use five C’s. Just what do I do to earn it?’

‘I want the complete dope on the guy who fell out of the window, and when I say complete, I mean complete. Who he was, why he fell out, the coroner’s verdict, who was with him when he fell out and how he figured in Helen’s life. Get it? I want the works. Then I want a detailed picture of Helen’s background. You’ll have to go to New York and dig, but you won’t be wasting your time.’

‘And what’s going to happen to my business while I’m in New York?’ Solly demanded.

‘You should care. Patsy can handle it. This is important. You know as well as I do it would take you a month of hard grind to make five hundred in your business. I’m offering you that amount for a few days’ work.’

‘Yeah, it sounds fine, but when do I get the dough?’

‘If I pull this trick you’ll get it. If I don’t pull it, then we’re both unlucky.’

‘And in the meantime I’ve had to pay out for a trip to New York.’

‘For the love of mike! If that’s the way you feel about it, then let’s skip it.’

He took a long pull from his glass.

‘I don’t like any of it. That sort of racket could land us both in jail.’

‘What sort of racket?’ I said, staring at him.

‘You know what I mean. Don’t pull a little Eva on me.’

‘What are you worrying about? All I’m asking you to do is to supply me with some information. In return for the information I’ll give you five C’s, and your fare. You don’t know why I want the information or where the five C’s have come from. How can it get you into trouble?’

He turned this over in his mind. It seemed to soothe him. ‘But what about you? You could...’

‘I can look after myself. Are you going to handle the job or aren’t you?’

He shrugged.

‘Well, okay, I’ll see what I can dig up. If I get you the information I don’t want to know how you’re going to use it. You’ve got to keep me out of trouble.’

‘I’ll do that. Will you get off tomorrow morning? I want this dope fast, and when I say fast, I mean fast.’

He finished his drink and got to his feet.

‘You’ll get it. I’ll call you. What’s your number?’

‘No. I’ll call you. I’ll call you at nine o’clock on Friday morning at your apartment. Okay?’

‘Yeah, but watch your step. I don’t think you realize how serious this could be for you. I hope you know what you are doing.’

I grinned at him.

After Solly had gone, I had a quick supper and then took the bus back to the Desters’ residence.

The Cadillac had gone. With Helen out of the way, I thought it might pay dividends to see how Dester was getting along.

He was lying in bed. A bottle of Scotch and a glass half-full of whisky stood on the night table. He was looking towards me, his face set, his eyes bloodshot. He had a .38 automatic in his hand. I saw it distinctly before he slid his hand and the gun out of sight under the sheet.

‘What do you want?’ he said, his voice harsh. ‘Can’t you knock before you come in?’

The sight of the gun rattled me, and I wondered if he knew Helen was waiting for him to die. Was he scared of her? Did he have the gun handy as a protection against attack?

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ I said, standing in the doorway. ‘I thought you might be sleeping. I just wanted to know if you were going out tonight.’

I saw him relax. ‘Come in, kid,’ he said. ‘I won’t be going out tonight. I’m not feeling too well.’

I shut the door and moved to the foot of the bed. It gave me a queer feeling to look at this man who I knew, dead, was worth three-quarters of a million dollars.

‘Has Mrs. Dester gone out?’ he asked abruptly, reaching for his glass.

‘Yes, sir; at least the Cadillac’s gone.’

‘She didn’t say where she was going?’

‘No, sir.’

He finished the whisky and splashed more into his glass. His hand was so unsteady he spilt some of the whisky on the sheet.

‘I think you should know that Mrs. Dester doesn’t want me here,’ I went on. ‘She has told me twice to go.’

He smiled: a hard, bitter smile. ‘That doesn’t surprise me, kid. You take your orders from me.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Pay no attention to what she says. I want you here; I want you to handle the Rolls.’

‘Yes, sir.’

He lay back against the pillow, staring at me. ‘Are you married, kid?’

‘No, sir.’

‘You’re smart. Don’t ever marry. I wouldn’t be a goddamn drunk if I had kept clear of marriage.’ He made a movement with his hand. ‘She’s lovely, isn’t she? All a man could want. You wouldn’t think a woman as beautiful as she is could be colder than an iceberg, would you? But she is. There is only one thing she ever thinks about and that’s money. Are you interested in money?’

I had to lick my lips before saying, ‘Who isn’t?’

‘Yes, but there are degrees of interest. I’m interested in money too, but I don’t live for it. She does.’ He drank some more whisky. ‘She’s waiting for me to die. She thinks she’ll come into a lot of money when I’m dead.’ He laughed; it wasn’t a pleasant sound. ‘But she’s going to get a shock. All she’s going to get is a parcel of debts. That’s all. I’m going to see to that.’

I didn’t say anything, but I was listening. I told myself this could only mean the premium was about due and he wasn’t going to renew the policy.

Suddenly he seemed to realize what he had been saying. His face hardened and he shouted at me, ‘Don’t stand there staring at me! Go away! I want to be alone, and don’t come in here without knocking again.’

Well, the visit to his room may not have paid off in dividends, but it certainly gave me something to think about.

Punctually at half past ten the next morning, Dester came from the house down to the car. He seemed comparatively sober, but his face was fine drawn, and there were dark circles around his eyes. He moved slowly as if he wasn’t quite sure of his footing.

‘I’m not going to the studios this morning,’ he said as he climbed into the car. ‘Take me to the airport. I’m catching the half past eleven plane to San Francisco.’

‘Yes, sir,’ I said.

Why was he going to San Francisco? I wondered as I drove to the airport. I remembered the Head Office of the National Fidelity Assurance Company was in San Francisco. I would have given a lot to have asked him right out what he was going to do, but that wouldn’t have got me anything but the gate.

I pulled up outside the airport entrance, got out of the car and held the door open for him.

‘I’ll be at the studios around four o’clock, kid,’ he said. ‘Pick me up there.’ He sat still looking at me, then he went on, ‘How are you off for money?’

Although I was surprised, I said fast enough, ‘Well, sir, I’m a little hard up right now. If you could...’ I stopped and let the rest of the sentence hang in the air.

He smiled. ‘What did I say I’d pay you?’

‘Fifty, sir.’

He took a chequebook from his pocket. Then he looked at me, his smile turning bitter.

‘You’d better cash in, kid, while there’s something left. It won’t be long now before the rest of them are after it.’ He wrote out a cheque and handed it to me. ‘That’s a year’s salary. Don’t walk out on me now, will you? Stick with me until the smash comes. It won’t be long.’

I looked at the cheque, scarcely believing my eyes. He had made it out for two thousand, six hundred dollars.

‘You’d better cash it fast,’ he went on. ‘Don’t hang on to it. First come, first served. In a few days there won’t be a nickel left.’

‘Yes, sir,’ I said, ‘but I hope this doesn’t mean...’ I left it hanging because I didn’t want a snub.

‘It means exactly this,’ he said, smiling at me. ‘My contract runs out on Saturday, and it isn’t going to be renewed. Don’t you read the gossip columns? It’s no secret. I’m washed-up. I’m a drunk, kid, and no one wants a drunk these days. That means on Saturday I stay home. I owe money everywhere. They’ll sell me up. The house, the cars: everything will go. I’m up to my eyes in debts. So long as I remain chief producer of the Pacific Picture Corporation, my creditors will hold off because they always hope for a miracle, but at the end of the week, when I’ve quit, they’ll move in like a flock of vultures.’ He got out of the car and stood staring up at the blue sky, feeling the sun on his face. ‘What do I care? I’ve had fun. I’ve travelled. I’ve owned a Rolls. I’ve married the loveliest woman in Hollywood. What more can a guy want? Now it’s time to pay up: that’s okay. I’ll pay what I can, and they’ll have to whistle for the rest of it.’ He put his hand on my shoulder and gently rocked me to and fro, not looking at me, but beyond me, his mouth in a hard, bitter smile. ‘And she’s going to be one of them who’ll have to whistle. That’s the only way I can get even with her for leading me the life she has led me. Even now I would get down on hands and knees and lick her shoes for one kind word from her.’ He shifted his eyes so he looked right at me. ‘Corny dialogue, isn’t it, kid? Right out of a B picture. Listen, I’ve never struck a spark from her: not once. What was it Hemingway said? The earth never moved for us. Know what I mean? Loving her was as sordid and as horrifying as loving a dead body.’ He turned abruptly and walked into the reception hall.

I got back into the car, lit a cigarette and drove slowly down the drive-in and on to the highway. To get his tragic, hopeless face out of my mind I forced myself to think of the three hundred and fifty grand I might pick up if he died. But somehow I didn’t get a bang out of it as I should have done.

I had snapped out of my mood by the time I got into town. At least I now had something for my trouble. Two thousand six hundred dollars wasn’t a bad start. I parked the car and took out his cheque and looked to see where his bank was. I was going to take his advice and cash the cheque right now.

The teller at Dester’s bank looked surprised when I pushed the cheque across the counter. He went away to the back and I saw him checking a ledger. Finally he convinced himself and he paid over the money.

I took it to a bank across the way and opened an account for myself. It was nice to own a chequebook again.

I drove back to the house, changed out of my uniform and, having nothing better to do, I got out the big power-mower and settled down to a long spell of lawn cutting.

It wasn’t until after one o’clock when I decided I’d better dig up some lunch for myself that I saw Helen coming from the house.

She came to the edge of the lawn and waited. I manoeuvred the mower so that I should pass close to her and as I came up to her I cut the engine.

‘Did you want me, madam?’

‘I want you to take me to the Palm Grove Club tonight and then pick me up at one o’clock. Mr. Dester won’t be going out.’

I met her eyes and I got a shock. The hostility I had expected to see wasn’t there. Instead the green eyes were warm.

‘I don’t like driving at night,’ she went on. ‘You needn’t wear your uniform, Nash. As you will have a long wait, you might care to take in a movie or something.’

I was so surprised I just stared at her.

‘And, Nash, since you insist on staying here, it might be amusing for both of us if we become more amicable.’

The long, slow look she gave me could only mean one thing. I’ve kicked around long enough with all kinds of women not to recognize that look and the invitation that lay behind it.

‘Yes, madam,’ I said.

She suddenly smiled, and the smile made her look younger and even more lovely.

My heart was pounding as I watched her walk away towards the garage.