The Paw in The Bottle

by James Hadley Chase

  “What’s the matter, Julie? Aren’t you going to give me a kiss?”

  “No, I’m not!” she snapped. “I want to talk to you. I’m leaving here. I can’t stand it any more.”

  She told him about Blanche.

  “You’ve no idea what she’s like,” she concluded, her eyes flashing. “She’s cracked. I mean it. She’s dangerously cracked. She might have killed me. I don’t know from one minute to the next what’s going to happen. I’m afraid to open a drawer or a cupboard. I’m scared to answer her bell. Well, I’m not going to stand it, and I don’t see why I should.”

  “Now, look, Julie, you’re worked up,” he said, dismayed by her determined expression. “You’ll see it differently tomorrow. You’re not going to let a few practical jokes get you down, are you?”

  “She frightens me and gets on my nerves. There’ll be no peace for me as long as I stay here. It’s not worth it. It’s no good, Harry, I’m not staying.”

  He went over to the settee and sat down. This was serious. He decided he’d have to tell her why she was here, to show her it wasn’t just something she could chuck up at a moment’s notice.

  “Look, Julie, you may as well know now as later,” he said, as he took out a cigarette with a none too steady hand. “I’m after those furs. You’ve guessed it by now, haven’t you?”

  “Do you take me for a fool? Of course I’ve guessed it. And I don’t like it.”

  “There’s nothing for you to worry about. You’re safe enough,” he assured her hastily. “I want you to find out how that safe operates. It’s the toughest job in town. I’ve made up my mind to crack it and you’re the only one who can help me.”

  “Well, you can’t open it,” Julie said shortly. “She told me about it. It’s wired to the Kensington police station.”

  “There you are !” he explained, sitting forward. “That’s exactly what I wanted to know. What else did she tell you?”

  “She said eight burglars have been caught trying to get into it. How do you like that?”

  “Four,” Harry said. Not eight. I thought that was how they were caught, but I wasn’t sure. Don’t you see, kid? You can get me all kinds of useful information if you’ll only stick it. Tell me about the furs.”

  “There’s a mink coat. She said it cost five thousand.” Julie made a little grimace. She couldn’t get the furs out of her mind. Since she had seen them she had been thinking about them, longing to possess them. “And a white Arctic fox. That’s a beauty; much too good for that little horror. And there’s also a beaver, a chinchilla, a sable and an ermine.”

  “Seen any jewellery?”

  No, but I know it’s kept in a steel cabinet in the safe.”

  All the time Harry was questioning her he was thinking how he could persuade her to stay. Somehow he had to persuade her to work with him. He had to find a weakness in her and play on it.

  “You said the door of the safe shut when you went in. Did it shut fast or slow?”

  “Like a mousetrap going off,” Julie said with a shiver. “There’s no air in there once the doors are closed. You would die if you were trapped in there for long.”

  “The idea is not to be trapped. Did she close the door or was it automatic?”

  “She wasn’t near it. I don’t really know.”

  “Well, let’s look at it. Take me to her bedroom.”

  “All right, but you understand I’m not going on with this? You can see if you want to, and you’d better take a good look at it. You won’t see it with my help any more.”

  He followed her into Blanche’s bedroom feeling more dismayed and helpless than ever. Her hard determination defeated him.

  She showed him the quilted wall.

  “It’s behind that. Don’t touch it. We don’t want the police here.”

  “You’re damned right we don’t,” he said uneasily, and went over to examine the wall. No sign of anything. It’s a pretty neat job. Did the door open outwards or slide to one side?”

  “It slid to one side.”

  He stood looking at the wall thoughtfully for several minutes, then he shook his head.

  “No good. We’ll have to find out more about how it works before I tackle it. You’ll have to find out for me, Julie.”

  “I’m not going to,” Julie said, aware of his uneasiness. “I’ve told you. I’m not staying.”

  He pulled her to him.

  “Stick it a little longer and I’ll make it a hundred quid instead of fifty. Come on, Julie, be a gutsy kid. You’ve done fine up to now.”

  She looked up at him, her full lips near his.

  No, Harry, I’ve had enough. You see, you’ve told me what you’re up to and that makes me your accomplice. I’m not going to be mixed up with the police, and besides I can’t stand any more from that woman. You just don’t know how she frightens me.”

  He had a sudden idea. As soon as it entered his mind he realized to his astonishment how much this girl meant to him now. “All right,” he thought, “I may as well face it. She’s knocked me. She’s what I want. I’m not going to lose her. There’s never been anyone like her before. I’m going to have her if I have to marry her, and damn it, that’s what I want to do.”

  “Aren’t you getting a little het up, Julie?” he said, taking her hand. “Two or three more days and the job’s done. Listen, let’s get this job over and we’ll get married. How would you like that?” He looked at her eagerly. “I’ll have enough money to be on easy street for the rest of my days. We can go to America; live on the fat of the land.”

  Julie pushed him away and stared at him. This was un-expected, and a little tingle of excitement ran up her spine. “Marry me? Go to the States?”

  “Why not? You want fun, don’t you?” He was excited now. “I’ll give you fun. I’ll give you the world on a plate. I love you. Don’t you understand, darling? I’m crazy about you.”

  “If you’re lying . . .” she began, her eyes flashing.

  “Of course I’m not. I mean it, Julie. Look, suppose you don’t go through with this. What’ll happen to you? Suppose you break with me? What are you going to do? Go back to Hewart? He won’t want you. Earn four quid a week in a factory? You’ll love that, won’t you? I’m offering you everything you want : clothes, fun, money, and you can have me if you want me. Damn it, I can’t be fairer than that, can I? I have friends in the States. We’ll have a terrific time together. What do you say?”

  She studied him for a moment. It was a triumphant moment for her. He meant it! He was in love with her. She had only to play her cards carefully and she would get anything she wanted from him without risks.

  “I love you too, Harry,” she said, and slipped her arms round his neck. “But I’m not staying here. I’m not a crook. All right, I admit I’ve done things I shouldn’t have done, but I’ve kept inside the law. I’ve never done nor am I ever going to do anything that’d land me in prison. And, please, Harry, don’t go through with this. She’s too clever. You’ll be caught. I know you’ll be caught. Then what’ll happen to me?”

  He held her to him.

  “That’s torn it,” he was thinking. “Now what the hell am I going to do? I’ll lose her if I don’t look out. I’ll have to see Ma French. She’ll have to find a way round this. She’ll have to find another girl to do the job.”

  “All right, Julie,” he said, and kissed her. “I won’t hold you to it if that’s the way you feel. It won’t make any difference to us. I’m crazy about you, kid. I’ll find a way to getting into that tin box. But you quit. I’ll see you right.”

  “Honest, Harry? You really mean that?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “But why go through with it? Let’s go to the States now. Don’t take the risk, Harry.”

  “I’ve got to do the job,” he said, a little impatiently. “Where do you think the money’s coming from? Listen, Julie, this job’s worth eight thousand to me. I’ve got to do it.”

  Eight thousand!

  For a mom
ent she was tempted to stay and help him, then caution pushed the idea out of her head. Why should she? He could manage. He would find a way. And then he’d spend the money on her and there’d be no risk.

  “All right, Harry . . .” she began.

  “What’s that?” he broke in, stiffening. “Did you hear any-thing?”

  Julie pushed away from him.

  “No . . . what do you mean?”

  He went quickly to the door, opened it, closed it immediately.

  “Someone’s in the flat,” he whispered.

  Blanche!

  Julie nearly fainted. To be caught in Blanche’s bedroom in her clothes! She stood paralysed with terror.

  Quick steps sounded down the passage, coming towards the room.

  “It’s Mrs. Wesley!” Julie gasped. “What am Ito do?” She made a futile dart to the window. “I must hide . . .”

  The door opened. She turned, clenching her fists and stifling a scream. A man came in: a man who wore black-lensed glasses that hid his eyes. He stood in the doorway, the black lenses looked right at her.

  “Is there anyone here?” he asked, mildly. “Blanche, are you here?”

  And Julie realized with sick relief that this was Howard Wesley who, of course, couldn’t see her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  HOWARD WESLEY was not tall, although he gave Julie the impression that he was a big man. He was broad-shouldered and powerfully built, and he carried himself erect. In spite of his disfiguring black-lensed glasses she could see he had excellent features and his determined mouth and chin gave him an air of authority. His broad forehead was capped by dark, unruly hair, turning white at the temples. She was surprised later to hear he was only thirty-eight.

  Both Julie and Harry stood staring at him, and as he moved into the room they silently gave ground.

  “Is anyone here?” he repeated.

  Harry waved at Julie and grimaced. She realized he was trying to tell her that she had to handle this, and she saw he was right.

  She said in a husky little voice, “Oh, yes . . . me.”

  Wesley frowned, continued to look in her direction as if he had known all along she was there.

  “And who are you?” he asked. He took from his hip pocket a gold cigarette-case and selected a cigarette.

  “I’m Julie Holland, the new maid,” she told him, trying to keep her voice steady.

  “I see.” He patted his pockets and his frown deepened. “I wonder if you could give me a light? I seem to have left my matches in my overcoat pocket.”

  She looked wildly round the room. Harry took out his lighter and put it on the table. He pointed at it, and jerked his thumb at Wesley. She was surprised to see how calm Harry was. He scarcely moved and was watching Wesley closely, his eyes hard and alert.

  In a way his calmness annoyed Julie, who was shaking all over and had difficulty in breathing. She snatched up the lighter and moved towards Wesley. It was a relief to see that he continued to look at the place where she had been standing and did not turn his head as she approached. To her it was proof that he was blind and couldn’t see them.

  She tried to operate the lighter, but her fingers were so shaky that she nearly dropped it.

  “Give it to me,” he said, and held out his hand.

  She gave him the lighter.

  “Where is Mrs. Wesley?” he asked.

  “She’s away for the week-end, sir,” Julie said, looked at Harry who had moved to the door. He shook his head at her, and winked.

  “I see.” Wesley lit the cigarette, held the lighter out in midair. “Thank you.”

  Julie took it from him, put it on the table. Harry picked it up.

  “Did she say when she was returning?” Wesley went on, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets.

  “She didn’t expect you until Monday night. She’ll be back by then.”

  “And you didn’t expect me either?” He smiled. “I hope I haven’t spoilt your evening.”

  “Oh, no, sir,” Julie said hastily, wondering if he suspected anything. “I haven’t anything to do. I—I was tidying madam’s room.”

  “Were you? You smell as if you were going to a party.” He laughed apologetically. “I didn’t mean to be rude, but I have to rely on my nose and ears these days. That’s a very nice perfume you are wearing.”

  Julie flushed scarlet and stepped back. It should be nice. It was Blanche’s perfume.

  “I—I wasn’t going out,” she stammered.

  “Mr. Gerridge is seeing to the luggage,” Wesley went on. “He’s my secretary. He should be up in a moment. Can you give us coffee?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, thinking. “I must get out of this dress at once.”

  “Let us have it in the study. I have some work to do.” Wesley turned and appeared to look right at Harry who took a quick step back. “I have an odd feeling there’s someone else in the room.” Wesley went on as he groped for the door handle. “Is there?”

  He could have reached out and touched Harry. Julie caught her breath sharply, motioned Harry back.

  “Oh, no, sir, of course there isn’t.”

  “I get these feelings,” Wesley said, frowning. “All right, let’s have the coffee as soon as you can,” and he went out.

  “Phew !” Harry whispered as soon as the door closed. “That was too damned close. Get out of that dress. This other bloke mustn’t see you.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” Julie said, near tears. “I didn’t know he was coming.”

  “Never mind that. Get out of those clothes!” Harry urged. “Go on, hurry !”

  She ran to Blanche’s cupboard where she had left her uniform and then went into the bathroom. It didn’t take her a moment to change.

  Harry was listening at the door when she returned.

  “Get their coffee,” he whispered. “Hurry. I want to get out of here.”

  “When am I going to see you again?” she asked breathlessly. “I’m not staying here. This settles it.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “Don’t go until then. I’ll be right opposite in the Park at three o’clock. Slip out and we’ll talk. Now, get off. I want to get out of here.”

  She hesitated for a moment.

  “All right, but it’s no use trying to persuade me. I’m not going to stay.” She left him, and went quickly to the kitchen.

  When she took the coffee into the study, Wesley was sitting in an arm-chair, smoking a cigar. A young man, not much older than herself, whose lean, pleasantly ugly face lit up with a smile when he saw her, was sitting at the desk sorting through a pile of papers. She guessed he was Gerridge, Wesley’s secretary. He waved to a table near Wesley and went on with his work.

  As she stooped to put the tray on the table, Wesley said : “I suppose you have only just arrived?”

  “I came yesterday, sir.”

  “Well, I hope you will be happy here,” Wesley returned, as if he doubted it. “We didn’t expect to be back so soon. But don’t let us interfere with your week-end plans. You can go out if you want to. We shan’t need anything. I think we’ll spend the week-end at the factory. We’ll only bother you to give us breakfast to-morrow morning. You understand about that? You can order it from the restaurant. We shall be off about nine o’clock. Shall we say breakfast at eight-thirty?”

  “Very well, sir,”

  “How awful for him to be blind,” she thought, as she went to Blanche’s bedroom. “He’s nice and kind. How could he have married that beastly little creature?”

  When she had tidied up Blanche’s room she went into the kitchen. She didn’t know what to do with herself. It was still early, and she would have liked to have gone out but she didn’t want to go alone. Instead, she paced up and down and worried about the future.

  She thought about Harry. Before Wesley arrived she had been excited at the prospect of going to America with Harry, now she wasn’t so sure. She found herself thinking of Wesley and comparing him to Harry. It was like comparing
a paste diamond to a real one. She suddenly realized that Harry was characterless and shallow, that his clothes were flashy and vulgar. Wesley was rich. Harry would never be as rich as Wesley. If he did steal the furs, how long would eight thousand pounds last? Not long, if they went to America and spent freely, and then what would happen?

  “I might as well face it,” she told herself. “Harry’s a thief. Dawson warned me against him. Hewart hates him. He’s mixed up with that awful Mrs. French. Then there’s Dana. What kind of trouble shall I be letting myself in for if I do marry him?”

  If she was going to marry, she ought to marry a man like Wesley. She would get what she wanted then : a big house, clothes, servants, a car, everything! But, of course, Wesley wouldn’t look at her. Besides, he was already married. But suppose she told him about the robbery? He might be nice to her; do something for her. She pulled herself up, suddenly frightened. She musn’t think like this. It was dangerous. She remembered what Hewart had told her about the girl who had talked. She must get that idea out of her head.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft rap on the door and Gerridge came in, carrying the coffee tray.

  “Hello,” he said with a friendly grin. “I thought I’d bring the tray along. That was cracking good coffee.”

  “I expect you needed it,” she said, pleased, and took the tray.

  “I’m Tom Gerridge,” he told her, wandering round the kitchen, hands in pockets. “I’m Mr. Wesley’s valet and Man Friday. We may as well get to know each other. You’ll be seeing a lot of me.”

  “Shall I?”

  “Rather. I told Mr. Wesley I thought you were a stunner.” Julie turned away and began to put the coffee things in the sink.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “It’s true, you know.” She giggled.

  “No. I don’t mind. But I don’t suppose Mr. Wesley was very interested.”

  “Oh, but he was,” Gerridge assured her. “At least he didn’t say so, but he pricked up his ears all right.”

  Julie laughed and began to wash up.

  “Mr. Wesley’s using the dictaphone at the moment,” Gerridge explained. “That’s why I came along to keep you company. You don’t mind, do you?”