The Paw in The Bottle

by James Hadley Chase

  “No,” Julie said, not feeling miserable at all. To find out his reactions, she went on. “But I shouldn’t really be here. Mrs. Wesley would be furious.”

  She saw his face harden.

  “Mrs. Wesley has no right to complain,” he said sharply. “She forfeited that right by her behaviour. You saw what went on?”

  “Yes,” Julie said. “I thought it was dreadful.”

  “Then don’t let’s talk about her,” Wesley said. “I’ll get you another drink.”

  There was an awkward silence while he mixed more drinks, but when he came back to the table he seemed to have recovered his calm and he smiled at her.

  “I’m glad this has happened, Julie. I lead a lonely life : too lonely I’m discovering. I’m enjoying this. I haven’t had supper with a pretty girl for years.”

  Julie was a little startled; she hadn’t expected him to take the initiative so soon.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you were saying,” he went on, not appearing to notice her surprise, “about not having any fun. Tell me, Julie, what exactly is your idea of fun?”

  “Being able to do the things you want to,” she said promptly. “And what do you want to do?”

  Again without hesitation, she said : “Have money and nice clothes. I want to go dancing, go to the best restaurants, have a car, buy what I like. Things like that.”

  He laughed.

  “My dear Julie, what good are those things to you now? You’re living in the past. That kind of fun is over and done with. It’s the simple things of life that give fun now; things like good books, a garden, going for a walk, listening to music, things like that.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Julie thought. To him, she said, “If I had money I’d be able to have a good time. I know I should. I know how to get the things I want.”

  “Well, we’ll see,” he said, a little mysteriously, and began to ask her questions about her life at the café, drawing her out and listening with flattering attention to her description of the people who visited the café.

  By the time the meal had ended she was thoroughly at ease with him.

  “All right, Julie,” he said, pushing back his chair. “Let’s get rid of these trays and then we’ll get down to business.” He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “I haven’t long to give you. I have a great deal of work to get through before I go to bed.”

  When she had taken the trays into the kitchen and returned, he motioned her to the arm-chair and stood with his back to the fireplace, looking down at her.

  “There’s only one thing to do. We’ll have to go to the police,” he told her quietly.

  “Oh, no,” she said, alarmed at once. “We mustn’t do that.”

  “Because you’re frightened of this gang? I can understand that, Julie, but there’s no other way. We must set a trap for them. We must round them all up and then you’ll be safe. We can’t do that without police aid.”

  “But suppose they find out?” Julie said with a shiver. “Suppose Theo gets away?”

  “We’ll take care they don’t get away, and they won’t find out. See them on Wednesday and tell them how the safe opens. I’ll jot down the exact operation so you’ll know how it works, and you can copy it. We must catch them red-handed. I’ll see the police to-morrow. If Gleb wants you to help him in the actual robbery, you must do it. He must have no suspicion at all that we’re waiting for him. You’ll be all right, I’ll see to that.” He sounded so confident that Julie’s courage stiffened.

  “But if nothing happens to me they’ll know I—I gave them away,” she said uneasily.

  “It’ll be too late then for them to do anything. Now look, Julie, this is the only way to save yourself. You do see that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said reluctantly.

  “All right. You carry on as if nothing has happened. See Gleb on Wednesday and try to find out when he intends to rob the safe. That is vitally important. We’ll be ready for him. Do you think you’ll be able to go through with it?”

  “I think so,” she said, thinking of Theo. Her voice lacked conviction.

  He looked at her for a long moment.

  “Are you wondering what’s to become of you when all this is over?”

  Well, I don’t know. I haven’t thought. I don’t know what I shall do.”

  “There’s no need to worry,” he said quietly. “I intend to do something about that if you will let me. I want to give you an opportunity to find out if your idea of fun is really what you want.” He thrust his hands into his pockets and continued to look at her searchingly. “I’ve been married for six years, Julie. I’ve had no love nor tenderness during those years. I’ve been blind for three years. Life has been pretty drab for me, and now I have recovered my sight I’m going to change all that. You’re very lovely. I’m tired of leading a life without a woman. I need someone like you. Forgive me if I’m blunt. Do you follow what I’m getting at?”

  She could scarcely believe her ears, and stared at him, blood rising in her neck and face.

  “I’ll never marry again,” he went on. “But I could give you security, your own home, and I would settle a thousand a year on you. I wouldn’t bother you a great deal and I believe we could make each other happy.”

  She realized he was serious. A home of her own ! A thousand a year! She was quick to realize what this meant. It was his price for her silence. He was offering her this to be sure she wouldn’t tell anyone he could see. She was sure of that, but that made no difference to her rising excitement. For this was what she wanted; what she had longed for and hadn’t thought possible. She had to control herself not to betray her astonished delight.

  “Think it over, Julie,” he was saying. “There’s plenty of time. We have other things to do first. But I thought I would let you know what’s been going on in my mind. Ever since I first saw you I have been thinking of this.”

  “No, he’s lying,” she thought. “I don’t care. If he wants my silence he can pay for it.”

  “I—I don’t know what to say . . .” she began, but he waved her to silence.

  “Then don’t say it. Think about it. I’ll talk to you again when this is over, but I wanted you to know that if you wished I would look after you. Now run along, Julie, I have work to do.”

  It was a pity he was so matter-of-fact about it all. If he had only made love to her it would have been so much easier. But he was so calm, distant and cold-blooded that she felt embarrassed. It was as if he knew she knew he was buying her silence, and didn’t care.

  II

  When Julie had recovered from the surprise of Wesley’s proposal everything else became of secondary importance. Even Theo drifted into the background of her mind as an unpleasant nightmare not to be thought of—anyway, not for the time being.

  Wesley wanted her to be his mistress. He wanted to buy her silence. She was quite prepared to accept the terms. She would have in return for her silence security, money, clothes, a flat of her own, even, perhaps, a car. Wasn’t he enormously wealthy? Hadn’t he promised to give her a thousand a year?

  It wasn’t as if he was some horrible, fat old man who would paw her about and be jealous of her. He was marvellous. Even before he had made his suggestion she had been attracted to him.

  She had to admit he was a little disappointing and un-demonstrative. He scarcely spoke to her at breakfast the following morning. When Gerridge had left the room to collect some papers, he did say abruptly, “You’re not worrying, are you?”

  “Oh no . . . not now,” she said and smiled at him, but there was no answering smile. The face, partly hidden by the black-lensed glasses was inscrutable.

  “It’ll be all right,” he said. “I wanted to know you hadn’t changed your mind,” and he went from the room.

  But if his attitude was disappointing there were plenty of nice things to think about. “I wonder where I shall live. He might find me a flat in Mayfair. It’s marvellous how everything has turned out. Only seven mo
nths ago I was working in a tuppenny library, and now I’m to have a place of my own and a thousand a year!”

  Blanche’s bell shattered this day-dreaming.

  “Well, it won’t be much longer now,” Julie thought as she went along the passage to Blanche’s room. “Then I’ll have a maid to wait on me.”

  Blanche was in a poisonous mood. Julie could see that the moment she entered the room.

  “Get my bath,” Blanche said curtly, “and don’t crash about the room like an elephant. I’ve a splitting headache.”

  Julie didn’t say anything. She went into the bathroom and ran the water. Returning to the bedroom, she found Blanche out of bed and pacing the floor.

  “You’re to leave at the end of the week,” Blanche snapped. “I don’t want any arguments. You’re to go.”

  Julie could have laughed. As if she wanted to stay when a new life was waiting for her.

  “Yes, madam,” she said, so cheerfully that Blanche stared at her in furious astonishment.

  “And if you try to make mischief you’ll be sorry for it,” Blanche said. “Get out of my sight!”

  Some time later, Julie heard Blanche go out and she heaved a sigh of relief. She now had the place to herself, and deciding she wouldn’t do any more housework she went into the lounge, settled herself in a comfortable arm-chair, and read the newspaper.

  “In a little while,” she told herself, “this is going to be my usual routine. I shan’t have anything to do except enjoy myself. I may as well get used to it now.”

  She lit a cigarette, put her feet up on another chair and made herself comfortable.

  But after a while she became restless, and finally decidedly bored. She tried to interest herself in a novel she found on the occasional table near-by, but it didn’t hold her for long. She put on the wireless, but the boisterous strains of a military band soon irritated her and she turned it off.

  She felt lonely. The flat depressed her, and she began to wonder if the new life Wesley was offering her would be such fun after all.

  “It’ll be different when I have a place of my own,” she thought, trying to reassure herself. “I can spend hours trying on clothes and making myself look nice. Then there’ll be the shops to look at, and, of course, I needn’t get up until late.”

  But she knew at the back of her mind that there was nothing worth looking at in the shops, and she never really cared for lying in bed once she was properly awake.

  By lunch-time she was thoroughly depressed, and for the sake of something to do she settled down to clean the silver.

  It was extraordinary then how quickly the time passed, and she was irritated.

  “I shouldn’t be doing this,” she told herself. “I’ve got to get out of this slavish habit of working to pass the time. It’s ridiculous.”

  Blanche returned a few minutes after five o’clock and sat in the lounge with the novel that Julie had tried to read. Hearing restless movements, Julie guessed Blanche was as bored with herself as Julie had been with herself. The novel apparently didn’t hold her either.

  “Perhaps I’d be happier in a job,” Julie told herself. Then, realizing that this was against all her principles, she went on :

  “That’s ridiculous, of course. I don’t want a job. That’s what I’m trying to escape from. It’s money really. If I had money I could pass the time all right. I could go to the cinema every afternoon. There’d be dances and a musical show now and then. It’s being stuck in this flat without money that bores me. I wonder where she’s been to-day?”

  The sound of an orchestra came floating out of the lounge and then Blanche’s impatient, “Oh, damn the thing and the wireless was turned off.

  Blanche’s obvious boredom thoroughly depressed Julie.

  “If she doesn’t know what to do with herself with all her money,” she thought, “will it be the same for me? The trouble is there isn’t any fun these days. Howard was right. We do have to find a new standard of life.”

  She wished Wesley would return. If she could get him alone for a few minutes he might give her some proof that he was fond of her. She felt that at least would be some consolation for a depressing day. She did hope he wasn’t going to continue to be so impersonal. He had been so cold-blooded about the whole business. Then there was this extraordinary secrecy about his sight. Why was he pretending that he was blind? She didn’t believe that it had to do with his work. She had an uneasy feeling that there was something a little sinister about his pretended blindness and it worried her.

  She became aware that Blanche was speaking on the telephone, and because she felt uneasy she went to the door and listened.

  Blanche was speaking to Benton.

  “I can’t to-morrow night, darling,” she was saying in her clear, querulous voice. “No, I have to go with Howard to that ghastly dinner at the Everitt’s. And I’m so bored I could scream.” She paused, then went on : “Absolutely nothing. I went to the cinema this afternoon. No, rotten, but I just didn’t know what to do with myself. It’s all very well for you. You have your dreary old factory. Now look, Hugh, can’t you raise some money? I’m getting sick of this life. I’d get a divorce if you’d only put your beastly money affairs in order. Well, do something. You don’t expect me to go on like this much longer. You don’t want to live on my money, do you? I think I’m being very reasonable. It’s not as if I’m asking you to keep me; only yourself, darling. If you could do that I’d marry you like a shot.” There was another long pause, then she said, “Oh, God! I’ve been talking with the door wide open. I suppose that little slut’s been listening.”

  Julie quickly closed the kitchen door.

  Later she heard Wesley come in, and she hurried down the passage to greet him.

  “Julie?” Wesley asked as she came into the lounge. He was sitting in an arm-chair, a half-smoked cigar in his fingers. He didn’t look at her and was behaving as if he were blind. This annoyed her. She felt she was entitled to more consider-ate treatment.

  “Yes,” she said shortly and came to stand before him.

  “It’s all right,” he said, speaking softly. “The police agree you should go ahead as if nothing has happened. See these people to-morrow as arranged and tell them how the safe opens.” He took a sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “Make a copy of that. It explains the whole thing. We don’t want them to become suspicious. The police are anxious to catch them taking the furs away. Try to find out when they’re going to break in. There’s nothing for you to worry about. The police won’t take action against you.”

  “I see,” she said, and waited hopefully. She wasn’t interested in the robbery. She was only interested in their future relations together. Why couldn’t he talk about that?

  “You’re not frightened?” he asked sharply, mistaking her silence for hesitation. “You can go through with it?”

  “Oh yes, of course I can,” she said, then blurted out, “I—I’ve been thinking about what you said last night—about you and me.”

  He got quickly to his feet.

  “Not now, Julie. Let’s get this business over first. And don’t say anything to Mrs. Wesley about the burglary. She is not to know. Do you understand?”

  “Oh, damn the burglary,” Julie thought angrily, said: “I won’t tell her.”

  “That’s right. It would be better too if we weren’t found talking together. It won’t be for long, Julie.”

  “Mrs. Wesley has told me to leave at the end of the week,” she said. “Will something be done before then?”

  “If you could suggest Friday to Gleb for the night it would fit in well,” Wesley said. “I’ll arrange for us to be out that night.”

  “Can’t he think of anything else but this damned burglary?” Julie thought. “He’s not thinking of me at all.”

  “I’ll tell them,” she said. “But what will happen to me? I’ll need somewhere to go when I leave here.”

  He made an impatient little movement with his hand. “That’ll be all
right, Julie. I’ll see to that. I think you’d better run along now,” and he smiled.

  “But there’s not much time,” Julie persisted. If he wasn’t going to be more practical, she would have to force him to make plans. “You said I was to have a flat.”

  “Of course,” he said, and she sensed that he was controlling his patience with an effort. “Of course you’re to have a flat. We’ll have to see about that, won’t we?” He thought for a moment, his hands clenching and unclenching. “You have an afternoon off on Thursday? We’ll meet somewhere and see what we can arrange. Now run along, Julie. I have things to do before I go out again.”

  It was unsatisfactory, but there was nothing else she could do. At least she had forced him—unwillingly, she could see that—to consider her for a moment. Well, she’d keep him up to it.

  “All right, Howard . . .” she caught her breath, flushed. “II may call you Howard, I suppose?”

  He had stiffened, and his black-lensed glasses were directed at her.

  “Call me what you like,” he said, and there was a harsh note in his voice. “Run along, Julie.”

  She turned at the door and looked at him.

  He was motionless, his hands thrust into his trousers pockets, the light from the reading-lamp reflected in the black lenses of his glasses. There was a curious tenseness in his attitude, like a man who hears the whistle of a falling bomb and waits for the explosion.

  III

  Wednesday.

  The morning had seemed interminable and Blanche had been particularly trying. She didn’t wish to go with Wesley to the dinner that night and vented her temper on Julie.

  Blanche’s spite and tantrums and the thought that before long she would have to face Mrs. French made Julie jumpy, and she had a cold, sick feeling that remained with her all day.

  It was a relief when Blanche left the flat for lunch. And as Julie was trying to settle down with the newspaper the telephone bell rang.

  It was Harry.

  “Julie? I’ve been trying to get you since Sunday. What’s happened, kid? Every time I’ve rung that Wesley woman answered. I’ve been worried out of my mind, thinking about you. What did Theo do to you?”