Behind Winkle, Shirl’s hand slipped silently under a pile of loose papers.
“Why should I want to meet a man who’d cheated me?” Winkle whined.
“Because he needed your help. And if his plan came off, you’d never have any financial worries again.”
Winkle had rouged his cheeks as part of his stage make-up. But the colour turned a pasty pink as the blood drained from his face.
Shirl’s hand slipped out from under the papers.
It held a small blue notebook.
“Now that’s what I’d call a Blue Book,” she said.
Winkle spun round. He jumped up. Took three steps towards Shirley, but she put out her left arm and pushed him away. He staggered backwards and jostled against me.
I grabbed his shoulders to steady him. Then I forced him down on to his stool.
He sat hunched forward, grasping his hands together like he was praying for his last breath.
I said: “If this is what I think it is, you’re facing a murder charge.”
“It’s not the original Blue Book. I promise. I bought that notebook in W H Smith’s. It was my little bit of revenge to get one that looked just like Max’s. But open it. You’ll see it’s not Max’s. It’s all in my writing.”
Shirl handed it to me. I opened it. I read it for a few seconds.
I looked at Winkle: “You copied this from somewhere else.”
Winkle said: “I copied it from the Blue Book that Bernstein found in the cigar box. Danny kept the original for himself.”
I glanced at Shirley. “It’s a message from Brandenburg J Bekker. One of the last he must have sent. Certainly the last to Max Miller.”
I read:
Hi Max,
Guess you didn’t expect me to visit your dear old Blighty again.
But there was something I had to do. I was gonna tell you, but I guess you were out of town when I was here – and I gotta fly back to the States for a big deal.
So here’s what I wanted to say. I wanna give those great guys at St Dunstan’s one million dollars. Yeah! You read aright – a big one. But I don’t like a lotta fuss, so I want you to sneak the cash over the line for me.
You can do that, can’t you? Of course, you can.
I’ve just had a thought. You remember those riddles we used to play on each other when you visited me while I was recovering in St Dunstan’s. I seem to remember you were great at solving them – you took a buck or two off me in those days.
Well, it’s more than a buck now. I’ve left a bearer bond for one million dollars – your bank manager will tell you what it is – in a safe place in Brighton. You solve the riddle and find it before the end of May and I’ll double the money I’ll donate to those great St Dunstan’s guys. Yeah! I’ll make it two big ones. If not, well I guess I’ll have to spill the beans on where the bearer bond is, you old lame brain!! (Only joking!)
You’ll find the clues below. Yeah! I thought them up myself. I’m not such a dullard. Can’t be with $39 million smackaroos in the bank.
I know you’re a busy guy and don’t open letters in case they’re from the revenue service. Me, too! That’s why I got my confidential secretary to write all this in a Blue Book, just like the one you used on stage. Thought that would get your attention!! I know it’s not the original, but we both know the little secret about that!
Well, that’s all for now old friend. I guess we’ll meet up for a beer next time I’m over the pond.
See ya!
Your old pal, Brandie.
I said: “Why did Bernstein show this to you? I thought you’d both fallen out.”
Winkle shrugged. “And for a million dollars we’d fallen in again. Bernstein asked me to meet him at his office. It was supposed to be confidential but that assistant of his, Evelyn something or other, saw us. So we met here after that.”
“What did Bernstein want with you after all these years?”
“He needed my help to understand what it all meant. He’d tried for months to solve the puzzle, but had to admit to himself that he’d never do it alone. He needed help. He realised I knew Max better than anyone else after all those years touring with him. I’ve been trying to figure out the riddle for days. But I’m no nearer to a solution.”
Shirley said: “My old Pa used to tease me with riddles when I was a kid. ‘The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?’.”
“Footsteps,” I said.
“You already knew the answer.”
“I didn’t. But let’s not argue. This riddle is much more complex – and there’s a million dollars for solving it.”
“Read it,” Shirley said.
I did:
My first is in value but not there in dearth
My second is first in words and in worth
My third is in under but not in above
My fourth is in front when it comes down to love
My fifth is the drink that we all like to pour
My whole is my hiding place within the store
When there think of Caesar, the Rubicon’s hero
But remember in Rome there is never a zero
The first of four numbers you’ll find there in Mary
And the rest, of course, follow right from the Dairy
I turned to Winkle. “What stopped you solving this?”
“Well, Bernstein and I got it that the answer in each of the first five lines is a letter – and the letters spell out where the money is. But we couldn’t make it work. I mean, if you look at the first line…”
“My first is in value but not there in dearth,” I read.
Winkle nodded. “Well, there are three letters in the word ‘value’ but not in ‘dearth’, V, L and U. But when you get to the second line, the trouble starts.”
“My second is first in words and in worth,” I read.
“Yeah! We figured the first letter in words and in worth is W. No argument about that. But that means the full word has to start either VW, LW or UW.”
“And you couldn’t think of any words that did that?”
“Nope. It didn’t make any kind of sense. I guess we’d just hit the buffers, brain-wise. Now, you look a clever guy. Help me crack the riddle and we’ll split that bearer bond. Seventy per cent to me, thirty to you. What do you say?”
He grinned at Shirley. “There might even be a little loose change left over for you, sexy pants.”
Shirley said: “Watch your mouth, cheapskate. If we crack the riddle, we’re keeping all the cash – for St Dunstan’s.”
“You’ve got to crack all of it first,” Winkle said. “Besides a bearer bond belongs to anyone who has it. Bernstein checked it out. You got the bond, you get the cash. But you lose that bond – no matter how - and it’s gone for ever. It can’t be replaced.”
“He’s right,” I said. “Bearer bonds are like a shadow in the world of high finance. They’re there – and then they’re gone.”
“Yeah! But we ain’t got the bond,” Winkle said. “Bernstein and me couldn’t even figure out what those last four lines were all about.”
“They’re more difficult,” I said. “But with a bit of effort I think Shirley and I can solve the first part.”
“I sure hope so,” a familiar voice said behind me. “Because then I won’t need to shoot this dame.”
I spun round.
Mary-Lyn Monroe stepped into the room. She pushed Cilla in front of her. Cilla’s hands were bound behind her back with a stout cord. And Mary-Lyn was pointing a neat little Luger – the ladies’ gun of choice - at Cilla’s head.
Gino and Willis moseyed into the room after them. They were carrying heavier pieces. And they had them pointed at Shirley and me.
I said: “I wondered when my long-lost cousin would turn up again.”
Mary-Lyn smiled. Let her tongue flick lightly over her top lip while she thought about that.
She said: “Shut it. When I want you to say something, I’ll kick your ass.”
“A polite qu
ery is normally enough to get my attention.”
Mary-Lyn sighed and turned to Winkle. “A broken-down old funny man like you wouldn’t want an employee shot.” She pushed Cilla towards Winkle.
Cilla sobbed: “Please, Ernie.”
He looked at her with lizard eyes. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want an employee shot. Cilla, you’re fired.”
Cilla’s eyes opened wide, like she couldn’t understand what had just happened. Then tears welled up and ran down her cheeks. She struggled, but her hands were tied together too tight.
Shirley moved towards Winkle. “You dickhead – you’ve got the grace of a brown-eyed mullet. I ought to kick you in the…”
Winkle clapped his knees tightly together.
Gino clicked off the safety catch on his Beretta.
Willis laughed: “That dame’s got balls of fire.”
Mary-Lyn screamed: “Cool it, sister. You’re gonna get your tits in a wringer.”
I shouted: “Shall we all calm down?”
They all looked at me like I’d just delivered the Gettysburg Address.
I said: “Let’s all assess the balance of power in this room, shall we?”
Mary-Lyn said: “There ain’t no balance of power here, smart-ass. Me and my boys got the guns in our right hands.”
“Willis is holding his gun in his left hand.”
Mary-Lyn shot him an angry glance. “Is that true, dumbo?”
“Yeah, boss. It just happens that way. I’m left-handed.”
Mary-Lyn raised her eyebrows. “Jeez! I hire a tough guy and he comes with a defect.”
I said: “You have the guns, but no matter how many bullets you fire, they won’t solve the riddle. You need help for that.”
Mary-Lyn had a mocking look in her eyes. “And where am I gonna find that, wisenheimer? As if I didn’t know.”
“Shirley and I will solve the riddle for you.”
I glanced at Shirl. Her eyes popped and she shook her head.
“You’re not getting any of the dough,” Mary-Lyn said.
“That’s my money,” Winkle whined.
“Shut up,” Gino said.
I said: “We’ll do it in return for you telling us how you found out about the Blue Book.”
Mary-Lyn grinned and turned to her tough guys. “Now he’s negotiating. Like he’s at the United Nations. Like he’s a regular Dean Rusk.”
She turned back to me: “Well, let me tell you, big shot, I call the plays around here.”
“Have it your own way.” I handed Mary-Lyn the Blue Book open at the page with the riddle.
Her brow folded into a cute little crinkle as she read the words. Her left eyelid drooped as her brain tried to make sense of it.
Then she handed the book to Gino. “What’s that all about?”
Gino said: “It ain’t Italian, boss. I can tell you that.”
“I know that,” Mary Lyn said testily.
She thrust the book at Willis. He looked at it with blank eyes.
“There ain’t no pictures,” he said.
“Of course, there ain’t pictures, you moron. Who do you think wrote it – Walt Disney?”
I said: “How’s the solution coming along, Mary-Lyn?”
She said: “Okay, big brain. What do you want to solve this crap?” She waved the Blue Book at me.
“I want to know how you found out about that book. It was private between Brandenburg J Bekker and Max Miller before Danny Bernstein accidentally came by the original. The one you’re holding, by the way, is a copy.”
Mary-Lyn turned to Gino and grinned. “Do you think the boy is old enough to know?”
“I reckon he might colour up when you tell him,” Gino snickered.
“Don’t tell me,” I said. “Let me solve it, like the riddle. Bernstein met you when he visited Atlantic City.”
Mary-Lyn nodded. “You’re smart.”
“Bernstein would have been frustrated after he’d spent a long day and failed to interest anyone in his string of tired music hall acts. We already know what he was like from the way he ran his agency. He’d look for some female company. But from what I’ve heard, there’s not that much respectable female company to be had around the casinos of Atlantic City.”
“So he turned to a tart,” Shirley said.
Mary-Lyn scowled at Shirley. “Working girl.”
“Prostitute.”
“Lady of the night.”
“Whore,” Shirley said.
Mary-Lyn clicked the safety-catch off her Luger. She stared at Shirley like she wanted to plug all six shots into her.
She said: “For that, you’re gonna work with your clever-dick boyfriend and solve the riddle. And then, to celebrate, I’m gonna shoot you.”
Chapter 20
Shirley grabbed for me and I put my arms around her.
I hugged her tight. She buried her head on my shoulder.
“Shooting the messenger is a sure-fire way not to get any messages,” I said. “What do you want – revenge or the money?”
Mary-Lyn held up her hands. “Okay, I get it. I guess if I get the money, I might can the payback.”
I said: “It’s getting hot in here.”
Shirley released my hug and glanced at Winkle. “And it stinks like a dingo’s do-do,” she said.
Winkle fanned himself with a paper tissue. We all wrinkled our noses.
“Why don’t we all move into the auditorium?” I said. “More room for everyone and we can have a drink while we solve the riddle.”
“Yeah, and we can get up-wind of the funny guy,” Gino said.
Mary-Lyn stepped forward. “Okay, we move but remember my boys will have their guns trained on your every step.”
We shuffled towards the door.
I hung back so that Mary-Lyn went through first.
Shirley whispered: “Are you really going to help these dingbats loot that cash?”
I whispered to Shirley: “I’m playing for time.”
Mary-Lyn swung round. “No whispering. What did you say?”
“I said, ‘I’m committing a crime’.”
Mary-Lyn laughed. “Consider it a career move.”
We pushed through the door into the auditorium. Shirley and I chose two seats on a table at the side.
Mary-Lyn ordered her goons to untie Cilla so she could serve drinks. We all put in our orders.
Mary-Lyn sidled up to the table as I opened the Blue Book.
She said: “Right, Einstein, let’s see if you really do know how many beans make five.”
I said: “The opening line – My first is in value but not there in dearth – looks simple. Winkle and Bernstein worked it out for themselves. It could be one of three letters – V, L or U. But they didn’t know which and they couldn’t work out how to whittle the three letters down to the right one. They got even more confused when they thought the answer to the next line – My second is first in words and in worth – was W, the first letter in words and worth. But it’s not. They missed a subtle clue.”
Mary-Lyn pulled up a chair. “Amaze me.”
“The clue mentions words, plural, not word, singular. If it were singular, the answer would be W, the first letter. But if it is words, plural, it can’t be W because not all words begin with W. In fact, the letter that makes the first words in the dictionary is A.”
“Same for worth,” said Shirley.
Mary-Lyn looked doubtful.
“Anything that’s really bonzer – that’s worth something - gets an A grade. Get it, sister?” Shirley explained.
Gino and Willis had been at the bar with Cilla collecting the drinks. Now they crossed the room towards us. Cilla carried a tray while Gino and Willis covered her with their guns.
Mary-Lyn turned to her goons. “Hey, guys, we’ve got a real double act here – George Burns and Gracie Allen – ‘cept the dame ain’t as dumb as Gracie.”
Cilla put the drinks on the table. I hoisted my glass and took a good pull at my gin and tonic. Shirley sipp
ed her lager. Mary-Lyn wrinkled her nose at a vodka martini.
Winkle piped up: “Make sure you take the money for those drinks, Cilla.”
She said: “Do it yourself, tightwad. You fired me.”
Mary-Lyn licked her lips and sneered: “The drinks are on the house.”
Willis gulped half a pint of beer and wiped his hand over his mouth. “Gee, thanks boss.”
Mary-Lyn said: “Okay, refreshment time over. What’s next?”
I said: “We now know the second letter is A. When we’ve discovered the third, fourth and fifth letters we can go back to the first and decide whether V, L or U start the word. But the next line – My third is in under but not in above – presents a similar problem to line one. Only one letter in under is also in above – E. Which leaves us with U, N, D and R. We’ll come back to that when we have more letters.”
“Not as smart as you think,” Mary-Lyn said.
I grinned. “I get by. And the next line – My fourth is in front when it comes down to love - is easy to decipher. It’s L, the letter that’s at the front of the word love.”
Shirley said: “My fifth is a drink that we all like to pour – and it isn’t a vodka martini. It’s tea. Get it – T!”
Mary-Lyn looked baffled.
I said: “So we’re now certain about the second, fourth and fifth letters in the word. They’re A, L and T. We just need to fill in the first and third from the choices we’ve got. And the answer is obvious – isn’t it?”
I looked at them. Mary-Lyn’s brow had buckled into a puzzled frown. Gino scratched his head. Willis stared at the ceiling. Winkle was trying to work out how much the drinks had cost him.
I said: “The word is Vault.”
“Like that crazy game they play at the Olympic Games with a pole?” Gino said.
“No. As in a creepy place underground where you’re likely to run into Count Dracula,” Shirley said.
“Gee, that’s the guy who needs to see a dentist real bad,” Willis said.
Mary-Lyn held up a hand. “As in a bank vault. Where they keep the money.”
“We can’t break into no bank vault, boss.” Willis said.
“We’ll need Jelly Jonah to blow the door off,” Gino said.
“He’s in Brooklyn. I think,” Mary-Lyn said. “Or he might still be in Sing Sing after he screwed up that Bank of America job.”
The Comedy Club Mystery Page 18
