Up for Grabs

Chapter 13

Buck Kramer met me at the airport. “We’re going to have to make a special rate on you,” he said, grinning, “or else we’ll have to arrange to come in and meet you on horseback. Seems like I’ve been doing nothing except driving you around.”

“No other customers on this plane?” I asked.

“No other customers,” he said. “We’re getting pretty well filled up at that.”

“You had several cabins vacant when I left.”

“This is the peak of the season. They’re filling up fast.”

“Usual types?” I asked.

“One of them isn’t.”

I looked at him sharply. I had been there long enough to sense that there was a rule prohibiting the help from talking to one guest about other guests.

“How come?” I asked.

“He was interested in you,” Kramer said.

“The deuce he was!”

“Well, now, wait a minute,” Kramer said. “He didn’t mention you by name but he described you pretty well.”

“What do you mean?”

“He asked particularly if there was some man there who had been going in to the airport to use the telephone, who didn’t seem particularly interested in the life at the ranch, but was doing a lot of running around on business.”

“And you told him about me?” I asked.

“Shucks, no,” Kramer said. “I looked at him just as blank as a sheet of writing paper and told him the people I knew came there to relax and do riding, not to do business. I think this guy’s an attorney, comes from Dallas — spends some time with this fellow who had the whiplash injury. Don’t know whether it’s coincidence or not, but it’s a little strange he was interested in you.”

I laughed and said, “Oh, he wasn’t really interested in me. He was just wondering if perhaps some other attorney was on the job.”

“Could be,” Kramer said enigmatically, and then added, “We lost a customer yesterday. Melita Doon took off right quick. She said her mother was worse, but she took a plane for Dallas instead of Los Angeles.”

“Is that so?” I said.

“Uh-huh. Mean anything to you?”

“Does it mean anything to you?” I asked.

He grinned and said, “Still water runs deep.”

I said, “I’ll have to settle down here a bit and pay more attention to my riding.”

Kramer said, “I’m back and forth to the airport quite a bit. Any time I go, you’re welcome to ride along. I like company. You’re a good egg.”

“Thanks,” I told him.

We got out to the dirt road and turned in. Buck drove the car up to the parking area and stopped. I got up and gave him my hand. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “I guess a guy in this job gets like a horse. He can size up a rider pretty damned fast.”

I went to my cabin, washed up and decided to stroll out and see what Dolores Ferrol had to say before I tried to make any contact with Helmann Bruno.

Dolores was out on the horseback ride. She occasionally went out when there were women along who needed to be indoctrinated into the informalities of ranch life.

When I came back, a man was standing at the door of my cabin. He apparently was trying to fit a key to the spring lock on my door.

He turned to me with a friendly smile. “Seem to be having a devil of a time making this key work,” he said. Then he turned back to door, and almost in the same breath exclaimed, “Well no wonder! It’s the wrong cabin. Now, how could I have been so stupid? I am not usually troubled with a lack of orientation.”

I walked up on the porch.

“Good heavens, don’t tell me this is your cabin!”

“This is my cabin.”

“Well, well, well, I guess we’re next-door neighbors. I’m A. B. Melvin of Dallas, the ‘A. B.’ standing for ‘Alexis Bott.’ Can you imagine parents inflicting names like that on an offspring?”

“You’re an attorney, I take it, Mr. Melvin?”

“Why, that’s right. How in the world did you guess that?”

“Just from your manner.”

He said, “I didn’t get your name.”

“Lam,” I told him. “Donald Lam.”

He extended his hand, pumped my arm up and down with an excess of cordiality.

“You’re on a vacation, I take it, Mr. Lam?”

“In a way,” I said. “And you’re here on business?”

“Well...” He paused, then grinned and said, “In a way.

“I’m right next door to you, Lam,” he said, pointing to the next cabin, “and we’ll probably be seeing quite a bit of each other.”

“I thought that cabin over there was occupied, I said. Miss Doon, I believe, from Los Angeles. What happened to her?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Melvin said, “but there was some young woman here who left rather unexpectedly — got a telegram about her mother being in serious condition or taking a turn for the worse or something.

“What did this girl look like — rather blonde, slender?”

I nodded.

“I guess that’s the one all right,” Melvin said. “Her mother took a bad turn. She had to go back.”

“That’s a shame,” I said. “I thought that she’d been having a rather tough time of it and needed a rest.”

Melvin let that go as of no interest to him. “You’re going to be here for a while, Lam?” he asked.

“I can’t tell,” I said. “How long are you going to be here?”

“I’m leaving,” he said. “I told you my trip was partially on business. I’ve accomplished what I wanted and I’ll be leaving before too very long, but I have an idea we’ll see a good deal of each other.”

I said, “How would you like to quit sparring around and put your cards on the table?”

“Okay by me,” he said. “How’s Homer?”

“Homer?” I asked.

“Breckinridge,” he said. “All Purpose Insurance Company. Quite a guy.”

I unlocked the door. “Come in,” I invited.

Melvin followed me in. “It took me a little while to get you spotted,” he said, “but once I got you spotted I didn’t have any trouble running you down. Donald Lam, the firm of Cool and Lam, private detectives. Breckinridge is working on a new angle this time; before he’s used company adjusters and investigators. This time he’s gone out and hired an independent agency.”

“Sit down,” I said. “Make yourself comfortable. Tell me more about Breckinridge. You interest me.”

“I thought I would. Breckinridge is quite a guy. Dignified, likes to be the big executive type. Married money. His wife’s the principal stockholder in the All Purpose Insurance Company. Quite an interesting person, his wife.

“That’s a good insurance company, however. They’re making quite a bit of money, and I guess Breckinridge manages things all right, but he holds his office dependent on his wife’s pleasure.”

“Are you telling me that for some particular reason?” I asked.

“Sure, I am. You said you wanted to put the cards on the table, I’ll put cards on the table.

“Breckinridge had a pretty slick idea. He’d stage a phony contest. Persons who were making claims against the insurance company would win that contest. The prize they’d win would be two weeks vacation at this place.

“The woman who runs it, Shirley Gage, doesn’t have any idea what it’s being used for. Dolores Ferrol is the connecting link — some link — some connection!

“Boy, oh boy, if Homer Breckinridge’s wife found out about that setup! She knows there’s something doing down here and that Breckinridge has a female operative, but she doesn’t know anything at all about the details.”

“Details?” I asked.

“Got half an hour?” Melvin asked.

“Sure,” I said. “However, mind you, I haven’t said anything yet. You’re doing the talking.”

“Of course I am,” Melvin said. “I’m going to do enough talking so that you’ll have to talk. Then you can go ring up Breckinridge for authorization and we’ll make a settlement.”

“Settlement of what?”

“The Helmann Bruno claim. What did you think?”

“You’re representing him?”

Melvin laughed. “Of course I’m representing him, and I have been from the time of the accident.

“When Bruno came to me and told me about winning this contest,” he said, “it was so darned easy he thought there might be something phoney about it.”

“What did you think?”

“I didn’t have to think. I knew Breckinridge has made three or four settlements on account of stuff he’s been able to do at this place. He’s blasted the claimants in two lawsuits all to hell. That should be enough. The damned fool should have quit while the quitting was good, and thought up something new, but he kept working the same old gag.

“I was in court on one of those damage suits, sitting in the audience. I had a tip-off that the insurance company was going to blast the claimant and I wanted to see how they did it.

“It was a pretty slick piece of work. The fellow was claiming he had a slipped disc and they had pictures of him showing off in front of a couple of women here at the swimming pool, doing fancy dives and then they had pictures of him on the golf course.

“By the time they got through showing those pictures, the plaintiff had collapsed. His attorney virtually threw in the sponge. The jury returned a verdict within fifteen minutes — found in favor of the defendant, of course.

“So when Bruno told me he’d won a prize, a two-week vacation out here at the Butte Valley Guest Ranch, I told him to go right ahead and take the vacation. Just to be careful not to overdue physically.”

Melvin closed his right eye in a wink.

“I just wanted to see what happened this time. I gave Bruno an opportunity to get established and thought he’d be able to tell me what was going on. But he didn’t, so I came up here and found that one of the dudes was using the telephone a lot, going and forth. His name was Donald Lam, so I checked on Donald Lam, and sure enough, found that he was a private detective.

“Now, if you’ll come to my cabin with me, I’ll show you some pictures.”

”I’m still not saying anything,” I said.

“Don’t,” he told me. “Just come on over.”

I walked over to his cabin.

He pulled the shades, brought out a small portable picture projector and a screen.

“This isn’t quite as good a job as the insurance company did in those other cases,” he said, “but they had screened cameras, long focal-length lenses and professional photographers.

“I had to buy these shots from an amateur — one of those shutterbug tourists,” Melvin went on. “But you’ll get a kick out of the pictures.”

Melvin switched off the lights, started the camera.

There was a bright light on the screen and a flickering, then suddenly colored motion pictures, small but distinct, came to life.

Homer Breckinridge was in a swimming suit and lounging by the pool, looking up at Dolores Ferrol who was seated by the pool, one foot dangling in the water.

Breckinridge was lounging on one elbow.

He said something that caused her to laugh. She leaned forward, dipped one hand in the water, held it up and snapped the fingers, sending drops of cold water on Breckinridge’s face.

He made a grab for her. She tried to elude him but didn’t get up quite fast enough. He caught an ankle, pulled her to him, then switched from the ankle to the leg. He held her down, reached his hand down into the swimming pool then came up with a cupped palm full of water.

She talked him out of it, lying there looking up at him smiling, her legs across his lap.

Slowly, he moved his cupped palm back over the swimming pool, opened it, shook the water out of it and wiped his hand off on his bathing trunks.

Then he patted Dolores on the bare leg.

She squirmed seductively, getting up away from his lap and to her feet.

Breckinridge got up and walked away with her.

The camera showed them walking over toward the main house. Breckinridge put his hand on her shoulder, then let it slide down and gave her a little pat on the fanny.

The motion pictures flickered off, sputtered for a moment then came on with another scene.

This was a twilight scene. The illumination wasn’t so good here. The figures were mostly silhouetted but it was possible to recognize Breckinridge and Dolores.

They were talking earnestly over by the corrals apparently they had just come in from a ride. Dolores was dressed in a tight-fitting riding outfit, and Breckinridge was wearing Pendletons and a five-gallon sombrero, looking like the dashing cowpuncher.

Dolores said something to him, then reached up and took his hat, took it from his head and put it on her own, tilting it up. She tilted her chin up and looked at him. Her manner was challenging.

Breckinridge grabbed her and kissed her, then they melted together into one dark blotch.

“Light wasn’t very good on that one, Melvin explained. I believe it was actually a few minutes after sunset.”

The screen flickered again, then a scene of a breakfast ride came on. Breckinridge swung awkwardly off his horse. Dolores, supple and graceful, came down from the saddle.

Breckinridge took her arm with a proprietary air, piloted her over to the chuck wagon. They had coffee, then ham and eggs. They were talking earnestly.

When they had finished, Breckinridge extended his hand. Dolores took it. They shook hands, then walked away down over to where the horses were standing. They walked around a horse, stood for a moment with the horse screening them from the rest of the party.

The camera flickered off.

“Getting a new camera angle,” Melvin said. This will be good.

The camera came on again. The photographer had apparently managed to move around so the picture showed the other side of the horse, showed Breckinridge and Dolores standing there. This time Breckinridge took her in his arms with tenderness. They clung to each other for some ten seconds, then separated hastily as one of the wranglers came walking into view past the horse’s rear.

Melvin shut off the camera and started reversing the film.

“More?” I asked.

“It gets boring after a while,” Melvin said. “This will give you the idea. This motion-picture business is something two people can play at.”

“And just what do you intend to do with those pictures?” I asked.

“That’s up to you,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“These pictures,” Melvin said, “are part of Bruno’s case.”

“How come?”

“Oh, it’s just the way I propose to handle it,” Melvin said. “I’m not certain that I can get all this introduced in evidence as being pertinent, but my idea is to try to show the fact that the insurance company, instead of trying to minimize the damages and lessen my client’s pain and suffering, was actually trying to exaggerate them by putting him in a position where he’d be inclined to overdo, to overexert himself and to violate the doctor’s instructions.

“In order to show that, I’m going to prove that this whole dude ranch business is a trap maintained by the insurance company for the purpose of getting people to overexert and overextend themselves.

“I’m going to put on quite a little story. First, I’m going to show Breckinridge getting acquainted with Dolores Ferrol, then I’m going to take Breckinridge’s deposition and ask him if he didn’t reach an agreement with Dolores by which she was to act as representative of the insurance company and use her sex appeal to get these people to try to show how masculine they were, and all that stuff.

“Of course, I’ll be frank with you, Lam, I’m not certain that I can get away with having all this stuff in evidence. It has to be on the theory that instead of offering treatment to the injured, the company actually engaged in a conspiracy to try and get him to do things that would damage his case in front of a jury, but which, at the same time, would enhance his injuries.

“For instance, yesterday while you were gone, Dolores was making quite a play for Bruno. She got him up out of his wheelchair a couple of times and got him to walk down to the corrals with her. That was contrary to the doctor’s orders and against my instructions. He’s not supposed to be walking over rough ground without a cane. The girl’s clever.

“Bruno told me that afterwards when he got back to his cabin he had quite a dizzy spell. Now, as far as I’m concerned that constitutes an aggravation of injury by the insurance company.

“Anyway, this reel of motion pictures is not intended to be used except as a part of my case. I wouldn’t use it personally to embarrass Breckinridge for anything on earth.”

“It would be blackmail if you did,” I pointed out.

“Provided I wanted anything for it, it would be blackmail,” he corrected me, “but I’m only using it in connection with Bruno’s case. As Bruno’s attorney, I’m entitled to use it.”

“What you’re trying to tell me,” I said, “is that once the case is settled you’ll give me a complete release from Bruno and turn the reel of motion pictures over to me.”

“Right.”

“How much?”

“A hundred grand,” he said.

“You’re way, way, way off,” I told him. “No questionable whiplash injury is going to be settled for a hundred grand.”

“Suit yourself,” he told me. “I’d just as soon go to court over it. I think I have a good case.”

“Well, you’re not going to get any hundred thousand settlement,” I told him.

“You’re a pretty cocky young fellow,” he said. “Before you make any final statements like that, you’d better talk with Homer Breckinridge.

“When I sue, I’m going to sue for two hundred and fifty thousand and I’m going to file suit within the next forty-eight hours, and as part of my complaint I’m going to allege that, as a result of the conspiracy on the part of the insurance company, my client had his injuries aggravated.

“And I’m just mentioning that it won’t do you any good to try and contact Bruno independently, because Bruno is leaving when I leave.”

“Going back to Dallas?” I asked.

“I don’t think so,” Melvin said, smiling. “I think he’ll be someplace where it would be difficult to reach him until after the suit has been filed and he has been interviewed by the press.”

I said, “All right, now I’m going to talk.”

“Go right ahead,” Melvin said.

I said, “You’re an attorney. You can represent your client but you can’t resort to blackmail. Now, you are trying to blackmail Breckinridge into paying an exorbitant amount by way of settlement in order to get those motion pictures back.”

Melvin apparently became enraged. “What the hell are you talking about,” he said, “accusing me of blackmail!”

“If it weren’t for those pictures you wouldn’t set any such figure by way of settlement.”

“Oh, is that so!” he said. “Well, you’re so damned smart perhaps you don’t know that your client is being sought for murder right now by the Los Angeles police.”

“What?” I asked.

“That’s a fact,” he said. “Check on it. I wasn’t supposed to let the cat out of the bag, but since you’re talking blackmail to me, I’ll talk murder to you.

“Your man, Chester, that the insurance company is representing, had been having trouble with his wife for a while.

“In the days when they had a happier marriage and they wanted to take care of property rights, they took out a joint insurance policy in the amount of a hundred grand. But after the romance went on the rocks and Chester got the idea his wife was cheating on him, he wound up having one big fight with her and she walked out on him. He followed her from their apartment to San Bernardino; from San Bernardino she was driving to San Francisco, and he followed her and pushed her off the road. He was after that insurance.

“Unfortunately the ear didn’t roll as far as Chester had expected, so he cracked his wife over the noggin with a jack handle, pushed the car down to the bottom of the barranca, and set it on fire.”

“Where did you get all that?” I asked.

He said, “I have connections with the police in Dallas. The Los Angeles police found that Chester was mixed up in an accident in Dallas and wanted to know all about it, and wanted particularly to know if the man who was injured had any address for Chester that would help locate him.

“So the police came to me to find out whether Bruno had any address different from what the Los Angeles police had, and I made them tell me what they were working on before I consented even to get in touch with Bruno, which I did by telephone yesterday.

“Now then, you tell Breckinridge that when this case comes up for trial we’re going to be suing for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, that we’re going to claim the insurance company aggravated my client’s injuries, that we’re going to try a few motion pictures of our own, and that the jurors are going to know that the man we’re suing is either a fugitive from justice or is awaiting trial on a charge of murdering his wife.

“Now then you laugh that off and don’t go telling me a hundred grand is too much to ask by way of settlement in a case of that sort.”

“Where will you be?” I asked.

“I can be reached at my office in Dallas,” he said. “And anytime anyone wants to reach Helmann Bruno, he can be reached through me. In the meantime, he won’t be available to sign any papers or make any statements.

“I imagine you’ll want to telephone Breckinridge, confidentially from a telephone booth, probably at the airport, so I’m giving you forty-eight hours within which to arrange a settlement.”

Melvin shot out his hand. “Awfully nice meeting you, Lam,” he said “The fact that we’re on opposite sides of the case doesn’t need to affect our pleasant relationship... You’ll be leaving, I take it, before Dolores gets back?”

“I’ll be leaving,” I told him.

“And I don’t think you’ll be back,” he said, smiling. “I’ll say good-by to her for you.”

“Do that,” I told him.

I went back and hunted up Buck Kramer, “How about a rush trip to the airport?” I asked.

“Again?” he asked.

“Again,” I told him.

“Why don’t you get them to furnish one of the sleeping bags that we have for outdoor camping and spread it out there in the foyer of the airport?”

“I think I will,” I told him. “As a matter of fact, I may not be back here.”

His face lost its grin. “Any trouble, Lam?” he asked.

“A little,” I said.

“That lawyer from Dallas?”

“He’s connected with it.”

“Say the word,” he said, “and I’ll have that lawyer immobilized.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Oh no,” Kramer said, “nothing crude, you understand. I wouldn’t stand for anything like that, and I wouldn’t expose Mrs. Gage to any suit or even any criticism. In fact, it would be done so smoothly that this damned lawyer wouldn’t even know what had happened to him.”

“Just by way of curiosity,” I asked, “what would happen to him?”

“Well,” Kramer said, “you say the word and I’ll take him out on a most interesting ride. I’ll see that he has the right sort of a horse.”

“You wouldn’t have him bucked off?” I asked.

“Heaven forbid!” Kramer said. “But we have a few horses that are pretty stiff in the shoulders and when they trot — well, I’ll tell you it takes a damned good rider to sit a trot on one of those horses; and because they’re slow walkers, they’d rather trot than walk.

“So when we have someone who’s particularly obstreperous— Hell, Lam, I shouldn’t be telling you this. I’m letting you in on a lot of secrets.”

“They’re secrets, as far as I’m concerned,” I told him. “I’m just interested, that’s all.”

“Well, we put them on one of those rough horses and put some fast-walking horses in the string, and those stiff horses trot every damned step of the way, and by the time the dude gets back he isn’t feeling like doing any dancing for a little while.”

I said, “Buck, I’m representing an insurance company. I’ve been told to pay out anything that is necessary or advisable for expenses. I think you’re entitled to a hundred bucks, and as far as I’m concerned, I would like very much to have Alexis Bott Melvin immobilized to some extent.”

“It’ll be done,” Kramer said. “I have some interesting things to show him. Under the circumstances, you won’t mind if one of the other fellows drives you in to the airport, because this is a deal I’ll have to handle myself.”

“I won’t mind in the least,” I said, “if someone else drives me in to the airport.”

We shook hands.

“Come back any time,” Kramer said. “It’s nice to have you here, Lam. I like to work with people who get along with horses.”

He turned and called one of the wranglers. “Get the station wagon,” he said, “and take Mr. Lam in to the airport right away, will you?”

“Right away,” the wrangler said.