She studied me thoughtfully. No welcome. No smile.
“I’ve heard about you, too,” she said.
That seemed to take care of that. There was a long blank pause, while we looked at each other. She didn’t move. It was uncanny how still she could sit: not a blink to show she was alive. You couldn’t even see she was breathing.
“You know why I’m here?” I asked. “You know what I’m going to do?”
“Yes, I know that, too,” she said.
Well, that also took care of that. There didn’t seem much else to say. I looked down into the lily pond. I could see her reflection in the water. She looked good that way, too.
I had the idea I was having the same effect on her as she was having on me. I wasn’t sure, but I had a hunch I had touched off a spark in her, and it wouldn’t need a lot of work to fan it into a flame.
I’ve been around and I’ve known a lot of women in my time. They’ve given me a lot of fun and a lot of grief. Now women are funny animals. You never know where you are with them—they don’t often know where they are with themselves. It’s no good trying to find out what makes them tick. It just can’t be done. They have more moods than an army of cats have lives, and all you can hope for is to spot the mood you’re after when it turns up and step in quick. Hesitate, and you’re a dead duck, unless you’re one of those guys who likes a slow approach that might get you somewhere in a week or a month or even a year. But that’s not the way I like it. I like it quick and sudden: like a shot in the back.
I had come around the pool and was close to her now. She sat like a statue, her hands folded in her lap, and I could smell her perfume; nothing you could put a name to, but nice—heady and elusive.
And all of a sudden my heart was slamming against my ribs and my mouth was dry. I stood close behind her and waited. It was as if I’d got hold of a live wire in my hands and it was pulling me to pieces and I couldn’t let go. Then she turned her head slowly and raised her face. I caught her in my arms and my mouth covered hers. She was in the mood all right. Her mouth was half-open and hard against mine. I felt her breath at the back of my throat. Five seconds—long enough to find out how good she was, with her firm young other hand gripping my arm; then she pushed me away. She had steel in her wrists all right.
We looked at each other. The lapis-lazuli eyes were as unruffled and as impersonal as the lily pond.
“Do you usually work as fast as that?” she asked and touched her mouth gently with slim fingers.
There was a weight on my chest that made me breathless. When I spoke I had a croak in my voice a frog would have envied.
“It seemed the thing to do,” I said. “We might do it again sometime.”
She swung her legs over the wall and stood up. The top of her sleek dark head was a little above my shoulder. She stood very still and straight.
“We might,” she said and walked away. I watched her go. Her slim body was upright and graceful and she didn’t look back. I watched her until she had disappeared into the house, then I sat on the wall and lit a cigarette. My hands were as steady as an aspen leaf.
For the rest of the afternoon I stayed right there by the lily pond. Nothing happened. No one came near me. No one peeped at me from the windows. I had all the time in the world to think out what I was going to do that night, how I was going to evade the guards and the dog, how I was going to climb that wall without being seen, and how I was going to open the safe. But I didn’t think about any of that stuff. I thought about Veda Rux. I was still thinking about her when the sun dropped behind the tall pine trees and the shadows lengthened on the lawn. I was still thinking about her when Parker came out of the house and down to the pond.
I looked at him blankly because he had gone right out of my mind. It was as if he had never existed. That was the effect she had on me.
“You’d better come in now,” he said abruptly. “We’ll run through the final arrangements before we have supper. We want to get off about nine o’clock when the moon’s right.”
We went back into the house. There was no sign of her in the hall or the lounge where Gorman was waiting. I kept listening for sounds of her, but the house was as still and as quiet as a morgue.
“Dominic will carry the dagger,” Gorman said. “When you’re up on the wall he’ll hand it to you. Be careful with it. I don’t want the case scratched.”
Parker gave me a key which he said unlocked the back door. We went over the architect’s plan once more.
“I have another two hundred bucks coming to me before I go in there,” I reminded Gorman. “You can give it to me now if that’s okay with you.”
“Dominic will give it to you at the same time as he gives you the dagger,” Gorman said. “You’ve had too much of my money without working for it, Mr. Jackson. I want some action from you before I part with anymore.”
I grinned.
“Right; only I don’t go over the wall without it.”
I expected to see her at supper, but she wasn’t there. Halfway through the meal found I just had to know where she was. I said casually I’d seen a girl in the garden and was that Miss Rux and wasn’t she coming in for a bite of food?
Parker turned a greenish white. His fists clenched until the knuckles seemed to be bursting out of his skin. He started to say something in a voice that was drowned in rage, but Gorman put in quickly, “Don’t excite yourself, Dominic.”
I didn’t like the look of Parker, and I pushed back my chair. He looked mad enough to take a sock at me. I don’t like a guy to sock me when I’m sitting down: Even a pixey like Parker.
“You’re hired to do a job, Jackson,” Parker said, leaning across the table and glaring at me. “Keep your damned nose out of what doesn’t concern you! Miss Rux doesn’t want anything to do with a cheap crook like you, and I’ll see her wishes are carried out. Don’t bring her name into this conversation!”
Because of what had happened out there by the pond I didn’t play it the way I should.
“Don’t tell me that number I saw in the fancy pants could fall for a pixey like you,” I said and laughed at him. I had my heel against the rung of the chair and I was about to kick it away and land him a poke in his snout when I found myself looking down the barrel of a .38 police special that had jumped into his hand. Max had said he carried a gun as if he could use it. That draw was the quickest thing outside the movies I’d ever seen.
“Dominic!” Gorman said quietly.
I didn’t move. There was a blank, sightless look in Parker’s washed-out blue eyes that told me he was going to shoot. It was a nasty moment. The gun barrel looked as big as the Brooklyn Battery tunnel and twice as steady. I could see the thin finger taking in the slack on the trigger.
“Dominic!” Gorman shouted and brought his great fist crashing down on the table.
The gun barrel dropped and Parker blinked at me as if he couldn’t understand what had happened. His vacant, bewildered look sent a chill up my spine. This guy was slaphappy. I’d seen that dazed, vacant expression duplicated on a row of faces in the psychopathic ward in the County jail. You couldn’t mistake it once you’d seen it: the face of a paranoiac killer.
“Don’t get excited, Dominic,” Gorman said in his thin, scratchy voice. He hadn’t turned a hair, and I began to understand why he kept telling Parker to take it easy. It was his way of controlling this pixey when he was getting out of hand.
Parker got slowly to his feet, stared at the gun as if he couldn’t understand what it was doing in his hand and walked quietly out of the room.
I took out my handkerchief and touched my forehead with it. I was sweating: not much, but I was sweating.
“You want to watch that guy,” I said evenly. “One of these days they’ll take him away, strapped to a stretcher.”
“You have only yourself to blame, Mr. Jackson,” Gorman said, his eyes cold. “He’s all right if you handle him right. You happen to be the quarrelsome type. Have some more coffee?”
I gri
nned.
“I’m going to have a drink. He was going to shoot. Don’t kid me. You want to take that gun away from him before there’s an accident.”
Gorman watched me pour the drink. There was an empty expression on his fat face.
“You mustn’t take him too seriously, Mr. Jackson. He’s become attached to Miss Rux. I shouldn’t mention her again in your conversation.”
“That guy? And what does she think of him?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with you.”
I took a drink and came back to the table.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said.
At nine o’clock Parker brought the car around to the front door. He was distant and calm and seemed to have got over his little spell.
Gorman came down the steps to see us off.
“Good luck, Mr. Jackson. Parker will give you last-minute instructions. I’ll have your money for you when you return.”
I was looking up at the dark windows hoping to see her and I didn’t pay much attention to what he was saying. She wasn’t there.
“We should be back in a couple of hours,” Parker said to Gorman. I could tell his nerves were jangling by the shake in his voice. “If we’re not, you know what to do.”
“You’ll be back,” Gorman returned. His nerves were in better shape. “Mr. Jackson won’t make a mistake.”
I hoped I wouldn’t. As we drove away into the darkness I leaned out of the window and looked back at the house. I still couldn’t see her.
chapter four
We sat in the car close to the twelve-foot wall that skirted the back of Brett’s house. It was cold and quiet up there on the mountain, and dark. We couldn’t see the wall or the car or each other. It was as if we were suspended in black space.
“All right,” Parker said softly. “You know what to do. Take your time. Give me a whistle when you’re coming back. I’ll flash a light so you’ll find the rope again.”
I breathed gently into the darkness. Even now I hadn’t decided what to do. I didn’t want to go in there. I knew, once I was over the wall, I would have put myself out on a limb, and if I slipped up, the least I could hope for was a stretch in jail. Redfern would fall over himself to put me away. He was only waiting for me to step out of line.
Parker turned on the shaded dashboard lamp. I could see his hands and the shadowy outline of his head and shoulders.
“Here’s the combination of the safe,” he said. “It’s easy to remember. I’ve put it on a card. One full turn to the right, half a turn back, another full turn to the right, and a half turn to the right again. Stop between each turn to give the tumblers a chance to drop into place. Don’t rush it. The only way to open the safe is to wait between each turn.”
He gave me the card.
“How about my dough?” I asked.
“That’s all you think about,” he said with a snarl in his voice. He was wrong there, but it wasn’t the time or the place to tell him about Veda Rux. “Here, take it, and keep your mind on what you’re to do.”
He handed over two one-hundred dollar bills. I folded them small and put them in my cigarette-case. I should have clipped him on the jaw then, shoved him out of the car and driven away, but I wanted to see Veda again. I could still feel her mouth against mine.
“When you’ve opened the safe you’ll find the compact on the second shelf. You can’t miss it. It’s a small gold case, about half an inch thick. You know the kind: hundreds of women have them. Put the dagger in its place.”
“It would have saved a lot of trouble if that babe had slept with a chain on her ankle,” I said. “You might pass the idea on.”
He opened the car door and slid out into the darkness. I followed. Out in the open I could just make out the top of the wall. We stood listening for a moment or so. There wasn’t a sound. I wondered if the dog was loose in the grounds: just thinking about that dog gave me the shakes.
“Ready?” Parker said impatiently. “We want to get this over before the moon is up.”
“Yeah,” I said and swung the leaded cane. I wished now I carried a gun.
He uncoiled the length of rope, and I took the hook in my hand. At the third throw the hook caught on the wire and held.
“Well, so long,” I said. “Keep your ears open. I may be coming out a damn sight faster than I go in.”
“Don’t make any mistakes, Jackson,” he said. I couldn’t see his face but by the way his voice sounded he was talking through locked teeth. “You won’t get any more money out of us if you don’t bring out that compact.”
“As if I didn’t know,” I said and took hold of the rope. “Got the dagger?”
“I’ll hand it up to you. Be careful with it. Don’t knock it against anything. There mustn’t be a mark on it.”
I climbed up the rope until I reached the wire. My feet gripped one of the knots in the rope and I went to work on the wire with the cutters. The wire was strung tight and I had to watch out it didn’t snap back and slash me. I got it cut after a while.
“Okay,” I said into the darkness and drew myself up until I was sitting astride the wall. I looked towards the house, but it was like looking into a pit a mile deep.
“Here’s the case,” Parker whispered. “Handle it carefully.”
I leaned down, fumbled about until my fingers closed around it.
“I have it,” I said and took it from him. While I was shoving it into my coat pocket, I went on: “It’s as black as a hat down there. It’ll take me some time to locate the way in.”
“No, it won’t,” Parker said impatiently. “There’s a path a few yards from the wall. It’ll take you to the back door. Keep to your right. You can’t go wrong.”
“You’ve really made a study of this thing, haven’t you?” I said, pulling up the rope, and slid down the other side of the wall into the garden.
I stood in the darkness, my hand against the wall, my feet on the grass verge and listened. All I could hear was my own breathing and the thump of my heart against my ribs. I had left it late to make a decision now. I could either stay right where I was for a while and then climb back over the wall and tell Parker I couldn’t open the safe or it was too well guarded or something, or I could go ahead and do the job and take a chance of running into the dog and the guards.
Once I had the compact, and if the guards caught me, nothing could save me from Redfern. But I was curious. I was sure the whole set-up was phoney. A guy as smart as Gorman wouldn’t be gambling away fifteen hundred bucks to help a woman out of a mess. He wasn’t the type. The compact or whatever it was he wanted out of Brett’s safe was worth a pile of jack. There could be no other explanation. If it was worth money to him, it might be worth money to me. I was sick of San Luis Beach; sick of being pushed around; sick of having no money. If I used my head I might make a killing with this job. I might collect enough dough to take it easy for years. It was worth the gamble. I decided to go ahead.
All this took about five seconds to go through my mind; a second later I was on the path and heading towards the house. I had on rubber-soled shoes and I made less noise than a ghost, and I was listening all the time. I didn’t hurry and I crouched as I moved; the flashlight in one hand and the leaded cane ready for business in the other. After a while I came out of the trees. Away to my left I could make out the shape of the house: a vast black bulk of stone against the sky. No lights showed.
I kept moving, following the path that circled the lawn, and I kept thinking about the wolfhound. It was nervy work walking into that thick darkness: a police dog doesn’t bark. It moves along almost on its belly, very fast and quiet, and the first and last time you know it’s there is when its fangs are tearing your throat out. My shirt stuck to my back, and my nerves were poking out of my skin by the time I reached the end of the path. I was close to the house now. The path led to the terrace steps. I knew from the plan that to reach the back entrance you had to walk along the terrace, up some more steps, along another terrace, pass a row
of french windows, round the corner and there you were. Once on the terrace you had as much cover to duck behind as a bubble dancer has when her bubble bursts.
I stood near the last tree of the path and probed the terrace and the steps until my eyes hurt. At first I couldn’t see a thing, then I began to make out the broad white steps and the balustrade of the terrace. I kept on looking and listening and straining into the darkness because I knew once I moved out into the open there was no turning back. I had to be sure no one was there. I had to be doubly sure the dog wasn’t up there waiting for me.
Now I was close to the house I could see chinks of light from one of the downstairs curtained windows. I could hear the whisper of dance music. The sound of that music made me feel lonely.
I still couldn’t make up my mind to leave the shelter of the tree. I had a hunch it wasn’t as safe up there as it looked. I kept staring and waiting, and then I saw the guard. By now my eyes had become used to the dark — and besides, the moon was coming up behind the house. He had been standing close to what looked like a big stone bird on a pedestal at the top of the steps. He had been merged into the design of the bird and I hadn’t seen him, although he had been there all the time. Now he had moved away from the bird I could see the outline of his cap against the white background of the terrace. I sucked in a lungful of air. He stood looking into the garden for a while, and then walked leisurely along the terrace, away from the back entrance.
I had to take a chance. He might turn and come back, but I didn’t think he would. I sprinted for the steps. I ran on tip-toe and I gained the terrace without him having the slightest idea he wasn’t up there alone anymore. I could still see him as I crouched by the balustrade. He had reached the far end of the terrace and was standing with his back turned to me, looking into the garden like a ship’s captain on his bridge. I didn’t wait; keeping low, I ran up more steps and reached the terrace above him.
I could hear the radio distinctly now. Ernie Caceres was tearing a hole in Persian Rug on an alto sax. But I had other things to do than to listen to Ernie, and I went past the french windows, round the corner of the house the way I had seen it on the blue print.
1955 - You Never Know With Women Page 4
