Helen came to the door. 'What are you doing?'
'Sealing up the deep-freeze cabinet,' I said.
'You're what?'
I turned to look at her.
'I'm demonstrating to you that I have a few brains. That cabinet has got to stay closed, but at the same time, it mustn't be locked. Okay. The safest way to keep the lid shut is to put something on top of it that will cause an effort to remove. I'm stacking all these bottles on top of it so it will stay shut.'
'It wouldn't be all that difficult to remove those bottles.'
'That's right. It wouldn't be difficult, but no one in their right mind would do it. You'll tell this girl the deep-freeze is empty. Make it sound casual. She's not going to shift all these bottles to prove you are a liar. No one would be that dumb.'
'It would be safer to lock it.'
'That's what you think. It would make her curious. Ever heard of Pandora's box? It's the same setup. Why lock an empty freezer? This is the way to do it, and this is the way it's going to be done.'
By the time I had carried the bottles into the kitchen and set them out on top of the deep-freeze cabinet, Helen had put on a sweater and slacks and had joined me. She stood looking at the rows of bottles and at the cabinet. I saw the tenseness go out of her face. She could see now I was right.
'Did you look inside?' she asked.
'Yes. I looked inside. He's fine. You don't have to worry about him,' I said. 'Now come on, we've got things to do. We've got to put this house in order. When this girl comes, she's got to find a normal house in working order.'
We slaved until midday. We cleaned, polished and aired the rooms. I went out into the garden and collected an armful of flowers. I left them with Helen while I went upstairs and got the room ready for the girl. I intended to put her in the room at the other end of the corridor because it was away from Helen's room, and the window looked out on to the east side of the garden away from the garage. While I was making up the bed I heard the telephone bell ring. I went to the head of the stairs, my heart thumping.
Helen came out of the dining-room and looked up at me, her face pale and set.
'Go on - answer it,' I said.
She went into the lounge.
I lit a cigarette and waited. I heard her talking, but I couldn't hear what she said. As I started down the stairs, I heard her hang up. She came out of the lounge.
'That was the Hollywood Recorder,' she said as I joined her in the hall. 'They wanted confirmation about the television job. I told them he was out of town and I knew nothing about his business.'
'That's right.' I thought for a moment. Hammerstock had certainly started to shoot his mouth off ahead of the gun, but that didn't matter so long as we knew. 'Don't kid yourself they'll be content with that. They'll come out here. The rest of the Press will come too. I don't want them to find me here. You'll have to handle them. I'm going to take the Buick and clear out for the rest of the day. I've things to do. Get on to the agency now and get a girl. Call Burnett and fix a date for tomorrow. Call the Belle View sanatorium and ask them if they can take your husband. If they say they can take him right away, stall. We don't want to start anything until the end of the week. Will you do that?'
She said she would.
'Then I'll get off. I'll be back some time tonight. You've got it all clear?'
'What are you going to do?'
'Never mind what I'm going to do. You look after this end. I'll look after my end. If you get a girl, tell her Dester is in his bedroom. Take her into your confidence. Tell her he is ill and no one must know because it may upset a deal he is putting through.'
'She'll probably tell all her friends,' Helen said sharply. 'We can't do that.'
'Her friends don't count. So long as she doesn't tell the Press or his creditors, it doesn't matter. Anyway, with any luck, she won't have the chance to tell anyone until we've taken the next step, and then it doesn't matter, but she's got to know he is upstairs in his room and ill. She's got to know that.'
'Why don't you tell me what you are planning?' she asked impatiently. 'Why be so damned mysterious?'
'I'm not being mysterious. I'm taking it one step at a time. I don't even know myself how it's going to be worked, but I'll have an idea by the time I get back.'
I left her, went over to the garage, got out the Buick and drove out on to the avenue. I headed through Glendale and on to Highway 101. I took it easy. It was a hot, clear day without a hint of smog, and by that time, there was a lot of traffic on the highway. I stopped at Ventura for lunch, then, around three o'clock, I pushed on through Benham to Santa Barbara. I took a look at the Belle View sanatorium that was tucked away with its own bathing beach and its own ten-foot-high walls. I had a feeling, looking at those walls, that once a drunk was inside, he would have a lot of trouble getting out again.
I turned the car and pottered around the district like any lonely business man taking the Sunday afternoon air, but I kept my eyes open, got used to the locality, spotted two State police points about four miles apart before which sat troopers on their motor cycles, watching the traffic with cold, alert eyes.
About fifteen miles out of Santa Barbara, just beyond Carpinteria, a narrow, dirt road, leading off the highway, attracted my attention. I swung the car on to it, and after driving a mile I came out on to a forestry station. There were three large wooden huts and twenty acres or so of young pines and firs under cultivation. I parked the Buick, pushed open the barbed-wire gate and had a walk around. The place was deserted. I peered through the windows of the huts: one of them was a lab, the other two were offices. I imagined they would be full of industrious workers during the week, but on a Sunday, it looked like the place I had been hunting for.
I had nearly got it right now: the forestry station was the clincher.
It was after nine-thirty when I drove through the gateway and parked before the garage. Looking across at the house I could see lights on in the lounge. I wondered how Helen had made out while I had been away. I wondered if she had got the girl and how she had handled the Press. I got out of the car and walked over to the house, opened the front door and entered the hall.
I stood for a moment, listening: I thought I heard someone turn the page of a book. I moved across to the lounge and stood in the doorway.
A girl sat in one of the lounging chairs, a book in her hand, the light from one of the standard lamps falling fully on her. She was dark; her black, glossy hair had brown tints in it, and it fell to her shoulders in long, natural waves. She was perhaps twenty-three or four, and pretty. She looked up and I saw her eyes were Wedgwood blue.
All the women I know and have known came under the category of floozies, smarties, diggers and come-on girls. They all knew their way around. If the word 'virgin' was mentioned, they thought it was in connection with the condition of the soil. I had seen plenty of nice girls coming out of college, at the movies and walking the streets, but I had never bothered with them. I was sure I wouldn't get what I wanted from them, and they were so much waste of time. So I let them alone.
This girl, sitting in the lounging chair, looking at me, came under the category of a nice girl. I could tell that not only by her open, natural expression, but by her frock, the shoes she wore and the way she did her hair.
'Hello there,' I said. 'I guess you must be the new help.' I came down the three steps into the lounge and went over to the bar. 'I'm Glyn Nash: did Mrs. Dester mention me?'
'Oh, yes, Mr. Nash,' the girl said, putting down her book. She got to her feet. 'I'm Marian Temple.'
'Glad to know you.' I sloshed whisky into a glass. 'Would you like a drink, Miss Temple?'
She smiled and said she didn't drink. She had a nice, bright, friendly smile: nothing subtle about it; no come-on, no sex.
I squirted charge water on top of the whisky, fished out an ice cube, stirred the mixture and took a long drink.
'Is Mrs. Dester around?' I asked.
'She's sitting with Mr. Dester.'
I lit a cigarette, carried my drink to a chair near hers.
'Sit down, Miss Temple. I didn't mean to interrupt your reading. Got something good there?'
She sat down.
'I'm on the third volume of Gibbons' Decline and Fall,' she said. 'Have you read it?'
'Not the third volume,' I said gravely. 'You mean the Roman Empire stuff?'
She said that was what she meant.
'Isn't it a little solid? I go for pulp magazines myself. Raymond Chandler is about the highest I aim at.'
She laughed. 'I'm planning to go to Rome next fall. I wanted to get the background.'
'You are? Why Rome?'
'Oh, I've always wanted to go there - and Florence too.'
'What's the matter with Paris? There's more excitement in Paris so I'm told.'
'I'll settle for Rome.'
I finished my drink and sat nursing the glass, looking at her. It occurred to me she wasn't what I imagined a help to look like. This kid was like someone just out of college.
'Is that why you've taken this job? Saving up for Rome?'
She nodded. 'I'm going to be an architect. I have my finals at the end of next year. I thought this job would give me that little extra while I complete my reading.'
'Yeah.' I didn't quite know what to make of this. I wasn't sure if Helen had made a mistake or not. I would rather have had a dumb cluck with no brains than a girl like this who was obviously nobody's fool.
'Well, I don't think Mrs. Dester will work you to death.'
She shook her head and laughed.
'She's just wonderful. She told me I could use this room when she wasn't using it herself. I feel quite at home already.'
I stretched out my legs. 'She told you about Mr. Dester?'
'Yes. Isn't it a shame? I've seen all his pictures. I think he is the best director of them all.'
'That's right. Have you ever seen him?'
She shook her head.
'Only pictures of him. Why do you ask?'
I pulled a face.
'Well, you know: he's been working too hard. He's changed a lot. His nerves are all shot. She told you he's going to the sanatorium as soon as they can take him?'
'Yes.'
I gave her an out-of-the-corner-of-my-eyes stare. She fascinated me. We had been talking now for six or seven minutes and she hadn't once tried to show me her knees nor flutter her eyelashes at me.
'Well,' I went on, getting to my feet, 'I guess I'll go up and see how he is before I go back to my apartment. I live over the garage.'
'Yes, Mrs. Dester said you did.'
She was looking up at me, her big blue eyes interested.
'Sorry if I took you away from Gibbons.'
'Oh, that's all right. I have to work at it: it's not easy reading.'
'I can imagine.'
She smiled, then as I started across the lounge, she opened her book again and bent her glossy head over it. I paused in the doorway to look at her. It crossed my mind that the difference between her and Helen was the difference between a pearl and a diamond. Helen had all the hard, glossy glamour of a diamond; this kid had the soft, smooth beauty of the pearl.
She looked up and caught me staring at her and she blushed. That knocked me. No girl I had ever been around with knew how to blush. I grinned at her, turned and went up the stairs, three at a time.
* * *
Helen was in her bedroom, smoking, and going through a stack of documents, bills and letters that she had spread out on the bed. She looked up as I came in.
'Going over old love letters?' I asked, closing the door and leaning against it.
'I thought you said we weren't to be alone together when she was in the house?'
'That's right, but right now she and Gibbons are keeping each other company, and I told her I was going to sit with Dester. What's all the junk?'
'What do you think? I'm trying to find out how much he owes.'
'You've got a sweet job. Did you start the list with Hammerstock's four thousand?'
'I've got up to twenty-two thousand and there are still more.'
'You don't have to worry. If we get the insurance money, we'll still have something left. What's been happening?'
'Burnett is coming to see me at three o'clock tomorrow. Four newspaper men have been here. Luckily Marian arrived before they did and I let her handle them.'
'You let her handle them?'
'Yes. She told them Dester was out of town and I was out. They didn't get anything out of her. I was listening in the lounge. She was good.'
'I'm not sure if you've picked the right one. That girl's got brains.'
'I had no choice. She was the only one the agency sent. I had to take her. Anyway, she may have brains, but she's only a kid.'
I went over and sat in a lounging chair. 'How about the sanatorium?'
'They can take him any time. I said I would call back.'
'Tell them he'll arrive around eleven next Sunday night.'
She stared at me. 'Sunday night? Why not before?'
'I won't be ready before.'
'What are you planning to do?'
'Maybe we'd better not talk here.' I looked at my strap watch. 'Come over to my place when she's gone to bed. It's after ten-thirty now. She won't stay down there much longer. Have you got a good road map of the district that takes in Santa Barbara?'
'I think so.'
'Bring it with you. Don't forget to take a meal up to Dester's room before you go to bed. He's got to eat or she'll begin to wonder what it's all about.'
'I've already done that.'
That was one of the important things about her. She wasn't dumb.
'What did you do? Eat it yourself?'
'I flushed it down the toilet.'
'Well, okay, just so long as she doesn't think you are starving him.' I moved to the door. 'Did you tell her about the deep-freeze?'
'Not yet. I'll tell her when I show her the kitchen tomorrow.'
'I'll be waiting for you.'
I half opened the door, listened, then hearing no sound I stepped out into the corridor and walked to the head of the stairs. As I began to descend them, Marian came out of the lounge. She looked up at me.
'Mrs. Dester has gone to bed.' I said. 'You going too?'
'Yes.'
I came down and stood beside her.
'You and Gibbons?'
She blushed a little and then smiled.
'Well, I don't think I'll read in bed.'
'I'll turn off the lights. Good night.'
She said good night and ran up the stairs. I turned slowly and watched her. She had lovely, slim legs, boyish hips and square shoulders. She didn't look back as she went along the corridor to her room. I was still standing there, seeing her in my mind, when I heard her door close.
I went into the lounge, took a bottle of Scotch from the rack behind the bar, turned off the lights and walked over to the apartment above the garage. Some kid, I was thinking. She and Gibbons. Some kid.
Around twelve-thirty, Helen came into my bedroom. I had changed into pyjamas and I was lying on the bed, smoking. She came to the foot of the bed.
'Now, tell me,' she said.
I looked at her. There are moments when a diamond can look a lot more exciting than a pearl. This was one of them.
'Come here,' I said and stretched out my hand.
She came around the side of the bed and sat down near me.
'Okay,' I said, 'now let me explain the setup to you. Between now and Sunday the rumour that Dester is once more in the money is going to strengthen. The columnists won't want to be left out in the cold. Even if they don't get any confirmation, they'll hint that Dester is after a big job. That's just the situation we want. No one knows where he is, but they have an idea he is back in the money again. If it doesn't work out that way, I'll have to fan the flames. There are two reasons why we must create the idea he is back in the money: one is to hold off his creditors and the other is that he is going to be kidnapped
.'
She stiffened. 'Kidnapped?'
'That's right. No one would kidnap him unless he was back in the money, would they?'
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
'Relax: I'll explain it to you. We want to create the impression that Dester is still alive. We want it known when the showdown comes that Dester left this house on next Sunday night around ten o'clock in the evening with you to take a cure at the Belle View sanatorium. That's where Marian comes in: she's going to be our witness. She'll think she'll see Dester leave this house, but it won't be Dester, it'll be me, impersonating him. I'll wear that camel-hair coat and the big hat he has in his closet. We'll go into details later, but this is the plan. Marian must see me as I go out to the Rolls. We've got to fix it so she only sees my back. We drive down to the gates. You stop and I take off the hat and coat. You wait there while I rush back to the house, making out to Marian that I've arrived just too late to say good-bye to Dester. I'll talk to her for a few minutes, then I'll tell her I'm going back to my apartment. You'll have told her you'll be back soon after midnight, but she is not to wait up for you. I'll go over to my apartment, turn on the fights and the radio loud enough for her to hear from her bedroom. Then I'll leave the apartment and join you. We'll go to a place I've found. The idea we want the police and Maddux to get hold of is that while you are driving Dester to the sanatorium, two hoods hold up the car, take you both to this place, tie you up and then kidnap Dester.'
Helen stared at me.
'Tie me up - what do you mean?'
'What I say,' I said impatiently. 'How much plainer have I got to make this before the nickel drops? You can't expect to get your hands on three-quarters of a million and not work for it.'
'I still don't follow what you mean. Where is this place you're talking about?'
'Did you bring the map?'
She gave me the map and I found the forestry station and showed it to her.
'It's the ideal place,' I said. 'There's not a soul around on a Sunday. You can stay in one of the huts and you'll be found first thing on Monday morning. You'll spend an uncomfortable night, but so what?'
1956 - There's Always a Price Tag Page 11
