The Bigger They Come

by Erle Stanley Gardner

  The driver asked no questions. Fares who send a cab prowling around at that hour of the morning are apt to make peculiar requests, and a cab driver gets his tips by saving his arguments until he gets home to his wife.

  ‘Take a look at it, Donald,’ she said, as the driver indicated the house on the corner.

  I studied the driveway leading into the garage, figured the general layout of the house, and said, ‘That could be it.’

  ‘You’re not certain.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘it’s a hell of a chance, but we’ll give it a try. Swing around to the curb, driver, and stop at that house across the street-the one on the corner.’

  The cab driver swung the car to a stop. ‘Want me to wait?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, wait,’ she said.

  I held the door open. She pulled the springs far over as she stepped to the ground, disdaining our assistance. The driver stood and watched us go up the cement walk toward the dark, silent house. I groped for the bell button, found it, and leaned against it. Inside the house, I could hear the jingling of the bell.

  ‘Do I do the talking, or do you?’ I asked.

  ‘If it’s the right party,’ she said, ‘tip me off. Let me go on from there.’

  ‘All right,’ I said, ‘but if someone I’ve never seen before comes to the door, we’ll have to get in the house before I can be certain.’

  ‘All right. Tell them I’m sick, and you want to come in and telephone for a doctor-you’ve seen the room where the telephone’s located, haven’t you?’

  ‘One of the phones, at any rate.’

  ‘All right. That’s all we need-don’t keep that thing going so steadily, Donald. Take it easy. Let up, and ring again after a minute or two.’

  I could hear someone moving around on the upper floor. A window raised, and a masculine voice said, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It sounds like the chief’s voice,’ I whispered.

  Bertha Cool raised her voice and said, ‘I have an important message to deliver here.’

  ‘Put it under the door.’

  ‘It isn’t that kind of a message.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’ll give you the name when you come down,’ she said.

  For a second or two the man seemed undecided, then he slammed the window down. A light clicked on, and the window blazed into an oblong of brilliance that was subdued as the shade was pulled A second or two later I heard steps on the stairs.

  ‘Move over to one side, Donald,’ she said. ‘Let me stand in front of the door.’

  The porch light clicked on, flooded us with brilliance. Bertha Cool stood squarely in front of the oval plate glass window in the front door. The steps had ceased now, and I had the impression that someone was looking through the window, sizing her up.

  After a moment, the door opened a crack, and the man said, ‘What is it?’

  I stepped back and around so I could see him. It was the chief. He was wearing light silk pajamas and slippers, with no robe.

  I said, ‘Hello, chief.’

  He stiffened for a minute into ominous, tense immobility. Then his fat, blubbery lips twisted into a smile. He said, ‘Well, well, well, it’s Lam! I hadn’t expected to see you so soon, Lam. I hadn’t expected you’d find your way back so quickly. And who’s your friend?’

  ‘Bertha Cool,’ I said, ‘head of the Cool Detective Agency.’

  ‘Well, well, well,’ the chief beamed. ‘This is indeed a pleasure, and I want to congratulate you-er-er-is it Miss or Mrs.?’

  ‘Mrs.,’ she said. ‘Mrs. Bertha Cool.’

  ‘It’s indeed a pleasure.’ He bowed. ‘And you’re to be congratulated on having a man so quick-witted and courageous as Lam working for you. He’s a bit of all right, that boy! A most observing disposition; and I can personally vouch for his courage. Do come in.’

  He stood to one side. I hesitated, but Mrs. Cool sailed past me through the door and into the reception hall. I followed her. The chief slammed the door shut, and shot a bolt into place. ‘So you found your way back. Lam?’

  I nodded.

  ‘I’ll have to speak to Fred about that. I will indeed. That was rather a faux pas on his part, letting you get the address. Would you mind telling me just how you did it, Mr. Lam?’

  Bertha Cool answered the question. ‘Yes, he would,’ she said.

  ‘Well, well, well, no hard feelings,’ the chief said. ‘Won’t you come in and sit down-sorry I can’t offer you a drink.’

  He switched on lights in the living room and we went in and sat down.

  A woman’s voice from the head of the stairs called down, ‘Who is it, dear?’

  ‘Come down, m’love. Slip on something and come down. We have a couple of visitors. You know one, and I’m quite anxious to have you meet the other.’

  He beamed across at Mrs. Cool, and said, ‘Always like to have the little woman in our conferences. You know how it is. I believe marriage is a partnership, and two heads are always better than one. Whenever the situation becomes just a little delicate, I always call in the little woman.’

  I heard a door slam up above, and then the stairs began to creak. We followed the creak down until the tall woman came silently into the room, walking on the felt soles of bedroom slippers.

  She didn’t pay any attention to me. Her eyes were fixed on Bertha Cool’s.

  I got up when she came in. The chief didn’t. I said, ‘Mrs. Cunweather—is that the name?’

  The fat man hastened to say, ‘It will do just as well as any, Lam, my boy. After all, what’s in a name? Yes, yes, let it be Cunweather by all means. Mrs. Cunweather, my wife, Mrs. Cool. I want you two to be friends.’

  The tall, big woman looked down at the chunky one. Mrs. Cunweather said, ‘How do you do, Mrs. Cool?’ And Mrs. Cool said, ‘Howdy do. I hope you don’t stand on formality-I don’t.’

  Mrs. Cunweather sat down. Her eyes were cautious-watchful.

  The chief said, ‘Precisely what do you want, Mrs. Cool?’

  ‘Money,’ Bertha Cool said.

  His face broke into blubbery smiles. ‘Well, well, well, Mrs. Cool. That’s being direct! That’s a woman after my own heart. I’ve always said that I like plain, straightforward business where there’s no beating about the bush, haven’t I, m’love?’

  He didn’t turn toward his wife as he spoke. Evidently, he expected no reply from her, and she made none.

  Mrs. Cool said, ‘I thought we’d talk terms.’

  ‘Now, don’t get me wrong,’ the fat man said. ‘I don’t know what Mr. Lam has told you, but if he insinuates that he received other than the most courteous treatment at my hands, he—’

  ‘Nuts,’ Mrs. Cool said. ‘We’re not wasting time over that. You beat him up-it’s good for him-toughen him up some. Beat him up again if you want to, only don’t leave him so he can’t go to work at eight-thirty in the morning. I don’t give a damn how he spends his evenings.’

  The chief broke into laughter. ‘Well, well, well,’ he said, ‘if you aren’t a quaint, original woman-that is, if you don’t mind my saying so. That’s being delightfully frank. Now tell me, just what was it you had in mind, Mrs. Cool?’

  ‘You want to know about Morgan Birks. I might be able to tell you something.’

  ‘Well, well, well, that’s nice of you, Mrs. Cool. We certainly appreciate that, my wife and I. And it was nice of you to drive out here early in the morning and tell us. After all, you know, sometimes seconds are important in this business, and we hate to lose them. Now precisely what was it you had to offer, Mrs. Cool?’

  Mrs. Cool said, ‘We served papers on Morgan Birks.’

  ‘Oh, you served them.’

  ‘Of course we served them.’

  ‘Do you know,’ the man said, ‘I insisted all along that Donald had served them. And so did the little woman. You served them somehow in the hotel, didn’t you, Donald?’

  ‘Don’t answer, Donald.’

  ‘I’m not going t
o,’ I said.

  The chief turned to his wife. ‘There you are, m’love,’ he said, ‘perfect teamwork. That’s what comes of doing business with people who appreciate the possibilities of a situation.

  ‘Well, well, well, Mrs. Cool. I don’t know just what to say. You say that we want Morgan Birks. That isn’t at all correct, and yet it’s the way it would doubtless appear to a person running a detective agency. But let’s concede, just for the sake of the argument, that we would like to have a few words with Morgan Birks—what of it?’

  ‘How much is it worth?’

  ‘Well now,’ the fat man said, stroking his chin, ‘this is a rather unusual proposition.’

  ‘And rather unusual circumstances,’ Bertha Cool reminded him.

  ‘Yes, yes, that’s right. It is for a fact-I can’t get over Donald finding this place so promptly. It’s rather uncanny, you know. I had thought that all the necessary precautions had been taken.’

  Bertha Cool said, ‘I know where Morgan Birks can be found. You can’t talk with him. Is that information worth anything to you?’

  The smile froze on the chief’s face. Above the curved lips, his eyes were hard and watchful.

  ‘You mean he’s in jail?’

  ‘I mean you can’t talk with him.’

  ‘He’s been drinking again?’

  ‘I can tell you where he is.’

  ‘How much do you want?’ the chief asked.

  ‘Whatever it’s worth.’

  ‘Why can’t I talk with him?’

  Bertha Cool said, ‘I don’t want to take an unfair advantage.’

  ‘You mean he’s dead?’

  ‘I can tell you where he is.’

  The fat man looked at his wife. She shook her head. The gesture was all but imperceptible.

  The chief turned back to Bertha Cool. He seemed more relaxed now. ‘No,’ he said, ‘the information wouldn’t be worth anything to me. I’m sorry, Mrs. Cool, because I think you have a great deal of ability. And I’m positively fond of Lam. I really am. Perhaps some day I can hire your agency. There might be some information you could get for us.’

  Cunweather turned back to his wife, and said, ‘What do you think, m’love? Don’t you think Mr. Lam is a bright young Mrs. Cunweather said, tonelessly, ‘Fred was driving the sedan when he took Lam back to his room. Lam got a look at the license number.’

  Cunweather’s headshake was emphatic. ‘I don’t think he did, m’love. When I told Fred to take the sedan, I cautioned him about that. I told him to switch out the lights when he parked the car, deliver Mr. Lam to his room, and not switch on the car lights until he was certain Lam was where he couldn’t see.’

  ‘That’s how Lam found this place,’ Mrs. Cunweather said in a tone of flat finality.

  The chief pinched his pendulous lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. ‘I hope Fred isn’t getting careless,’ he said. ‘I do, indeed. I’d hate to lose Fred. That’s the worst of a man who has a great deal of physical prowess. He underestimates men who are not as strong as he is. I think Fred always underestimates the other man’s mentality, don’t you, m’love?’

  ‘We’ll talk about Fred later,’ she said. ‘Right now we’re talking about hiring Mrs. Cool and Mr. Lam.’

  ‘Leave me out of it,’ I said.

  Mrs. Cool said, ‘Don’t pay any attention to Donald. He’s working for me. I’m giving the orders. What’s your proposition?’

  ‘I don’t know that we have any,’ Cunweather said.

  His tone lacked finality, and Bertha Cool didn’t take the answer as final. She continued to sit there, waiting. Cunweather glanced once more at his wife, twisted his underlip into a weird shape. ‘I’ll be frank with you, Mrs. Cool,’ he said. ‘We’re in a position where time is precious. Seconds may count. We need’ help to get certain information. I think you have some of the’ information we want. We might talk a while.’

  ‘You talk,’ she said. ‘I’ll listen.’

  ‘No, that won’t do at all. We’d have to exchange information.’

  Bertha Cool said, ‘I don’t want any of your information. If, you want some of mine, it’s going to cost you money.’

  ‘Yes, yes. I understand,’ Cunweather said. ‘But in order to determine how extensive your information is and how much it .. might be worth to us, we’d have to talk things over.’

  ‘Go ahead and talk,’ Bertha Cool said, shifting her weight in , the chair in search of a more comfortable position.

  Cunweather said, ‘We don’t want Morgan Birks now. We do want information about Morgan’s sweetheart. My men slipped up on that, and slipped up badly. I knew that there was to be a play at the Perkins Hotel. I knew Morgan was scheduled to meet someone there. I didn’t know when. I didn’t know whom. Apparently the woman we wanted was registered as Mrs. B. F.. Morgan. Now my men were so busy looking for Morgan Birks they didn’t pay much attention to that woman. She gave us the slip.’

  Cunweather paused to give Mrs. Cool a chance to talk. She didn’t say anything.

  ‘We’d like very much to know more about Mrs. B. F. Morgan,’ Cunweather said.

  ‘How much do you want to know, and what’s it worth?’

  ‘We’d like to know where we could find her.’

  ‘I could help on that,’ Bertha Cool said.

  ‘Could you put your finger on her?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Cunweather glanced again at his wife. She maintained a stony stare of silent attention. When Cunweather failed to receive a signal, he turned to Mrs. Cool. ‘Well now,’ he said, ‘that would help. Of course, Mrs. Cool, I’ll be frank with you; one of our objections to hiring outside help is that they sometimes try to do a little chiseling on the side. We don’t like that. I think Mr. Lam has told you it isn’t healthy to try to chisel on us.’

  Bertha Cool said, ‘Don’t try to frighten me. My health is very good. I have a damn strong constitution.’

  ‘Ha! ha! ha!’ Cunweather laughed. ‘That’s good! A strong constitution. Yes, Mrs. Cool, I’m satisfied you have. I like the way you handle yourself. I think we could offer you employment.’

  Mrs. Cool said, ‘When I leave here, I’m going to see Sandra Birks. If you want me to work for you and there’s enough money in it, I’ll work for you. If Sandra Birks wants me to work for her and there’s enough money in it, I’ll work for her. I want to pick the job that offers the most money.’

  ‘You mean you want me to make an offer?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And then you want to see Mrs. Birks and see what she has in mind?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And accept the best offer?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I don’t think I’d like that,’ Cunweather said. ‘I’m quite certain I wouldn’t like it. I don’t think it would be ethical.’

  ‘Don’t lose any sleep worrying about my ethics,’ Bertha Cool said. ‘I’m putting my cards on the table.’

  ‘Yes, I can see you are, Mrs. Cool-are you going to tell Sandra Birks that you had this chat with me?’

  ‘That depends,’ she said.

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On what Sandra Birks wants me to do, and how much money there is in it.’

  ‘We wouldn’t like you to mention that you were here. We’d consider it a violation of a confidence,’ Cunweather said.

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ Bertha Cool retorted. ‘You didn’t invite me here. I found the place.’

  ‘You’re making things rather difficult,’ Cunweather said.

  Bertha Cool sighed. ‘We’re doing a hell of a lot of talking without getting any place.’

  Cunweather said soothingly, ‘Look here, Mrs. Cool, I’m interested in your proposition, but I have to know a little more before I fix my price. I can’t go blind.’

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘I want to know that you can really put your finger on Morgan’s sweetie. I want to know that you really served Morgan Birks, and weren’t being victimized by a clever hoax.’
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  ‘Who do you mean by that?’

  ‘Sandra Birks wanted a divorce. She had to serve papers on Morgan. She couldn’t find Morgan, so she thought it might be’ clever to plant someone as Morgan Birks. You think Morgan . Birks came to the Perkins Hotel today. We feel positive he didn’t.’

  Mrs. Cool opened her purse, took out a cigarette, put it between her lips, groped around for matches, lit the cigarette, and, said, ‘Tell him, Donald.’

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘All about serving Morgan Birks. Keep talking until I tell you to stop.’

  I said, ‘Sandra Birks hired us. I went up to her apartment r and got pictures of Morgan Birks. They were good snapshots. I checked up on them to make certain she hadn’t planted some .:l phonies in the album.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Cunweather said. ‘You’re right on that. Those snapshots were in your pocket together with the original summons.’

  I said, ‘Sandra’s brother, B. L. Thorns, whom she calls Bleatie, came out from Kansas City to—’

  ‘From where?’ Mrs. Cunweather interrupted.

  ‘From Kansas City.’

  The chief glanced sharply at his wife. ‘Go on, Lam,’ he said.

  ‘Bleatie came out to help Sandra. He knows Morgan Birks very well. I gather he’s more friendly with Morgan than he is with his own sister. He said he’d give us a lead that would let its put the finger on Morgan Birks any time he was satisfied Sandra wasn’t trying to double-cross Morgan. He didn’t seem to have a particularly high opinion of his sister’s morals or integrity.’

  I could see gleaming interest in the eyes of the fat man. Mrs. Cool said casually, ‘That’s far enough, Donald. If we go on from there, it costs money.’

  ‘What do you mean money?’ the fat man asked.

  ‘Something,’ she said, ‘to pay for getting up at this hour of the morning. I’m running a detective agency. I have rent to pay, salaries to pay, a tax on my payroll, a federal income tax, an occupation tax to the city, and a state income tax on the money that’s left after the federal people get done with my income. Then I have to pay a sales tax on all the clothes I buy and—’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ he interrupted, smiling and bobbing his head with mechanical regularity, but keeping his turquoise green eyes fastened on Mrs. Cool. ‘I understand. I have problems of my own, Mrs. Cool.’