The Paw in The Bottle

by James Hadley Chase

  Julie felt a wave of fury run through her.

  “I don’t want to talk to you, you coward !” she cried angrily. “You let that little swine knock me about, and you’ve done nothing about it. I hate you! I never want to see you again!” and she slammed down the receiver.

  A moment or so later the bell began to ring again, but she didn’t answer, and after a while it stopped ringing.

  She was through with Harry. All right, she had loved him a little when they had first met. But now she had Howard, she wouldn’t look at Harry.

  She was startled to hear the front door bell ring, and wondered if Harry had come up to see her; or perhaps it was Theo. The bell rang again before she screwed up enough courage to answer the door. But it wasn’t Theo; it was Detective Inspector Dawson.

  “Afternoon,” Dawson said gruffly and tipped his hat. “I want a word with you.”

  Julie turned red and then white. He was the last person she expected to see. She stood aside and he entered the hall.

  “Bit of a change after the Bridge Café, isn’t it?” he said, looking round. “Gone up in the world, haven’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said in a small voice.

  “Saw her Ladyship go out just now. She won’t be back for a bit, will she?”

  “No.”

  “That’s all right then. Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.”

  She took him into the lounge and again he looked round, nodding his bullet-shaped head.

  “Very nice. No utility stuff here. Well, well, we can’t all be so fortunate. You’d better sit down.”

  Julie sat down. She was glad to. Her legs felt weak.

  “Mr. Wesley doesn’t want his wife to know about this business. Thinks she’ll be nervous. Shouldn’t have thought she was the nervous type from the look of her. Is she?”

  “No,” Julie said. She was suddenly aware that she was twisting and untwisting her fingers, and hurriedly folded her hands in her lap.

  “Funny things—husbands,” Dawson said shaking his head.

  “Or does he think she’ll take it out of you?”

  Julie stared. What was he getting at?

  “I—I don’t know what you mean.”

  His cold blue eyes studied her face.

  “Never mind,” he said a little abruptly. “Now let’s have the story. Mr. Wesley told us more or less about you, but I thought I’d like to have it direct. Got friendly with Harry Gleb all of a sudden, haven’t you? The last time I asked you about him you didn’t know him.”

  Julie again changed colour.

  “I—I only got to know him—after you——” she stopped.

  “Did you? All right, we’ll let that go. It doesn’t matter. I warned you to be careful of him, didn’t I? You showed some good sense in telling Wesley. We’d’ve got them sooner or later and we’d’ve got you too.”

  Julie didn’t say anything. She was badly scared, realizing the escape she had had.

  “Well, let’s start from the time you became friendly with Gleb,” Dawson went on. “Go on from there. I want all the facts. Don’t keep anything back.”

  It was one thing to tell Wesley but quite something else to talk to the police. Julie hadn’t worked at the Bridge Café for over six months for nothing. She knew what happened to squealers.

  “It doesn’t pay to talk,” Hewart had warned her. “. . . they found her in a back alley . . .”

  But it was too late now. She would have to go through with it, and reluctantly she told Dawson what she had already told Wesley.

  It wasn’t easy. Dawson watched her the whole time. He didn’t interrupt, but his eyes were coldly unsympathetic, and she felt he was making mental notes and would check up every detail of her story.

  When she came to Theo, he thawed a little.

  “Now he is a nice lad,” he said, with a wintry smile. “We’ll have to keep our eye on him. He got six months for bashing a girl a couple of years ago, and we nearly nabbed him for a vitriol job last summer, only his alibi was too good and the fool girl hadn’t the pluck to pick him in the parade. Yes, we’ll have to watch out for Theo—you watch out, too.”

  Julie shivered.

  “We’ve had our eye on Ma French, too,” Dawson went on. “She’s no fool either. That’s a smart idea to run a domestic agency. It gives her an in to a lot of rich folks’ houses. But this is the first time she’s used a plant. You watch her and see you don’t slip up. One mistake and she’ll smell a rat. You’re seeing them to-night?”

  Julie nodded.

  “All right. I’ll have a man outside her place. If there’s any trouble throw something through the window : your bag or something,” Dawson said. “You’re playing with fire, young lady. I don’t want to frighten you, but if that mob thought you were selling them out they’d be very nasty.”

  “I know,” Julie said.

  “We don’t want any mistakes. If we can catch ‘em carrying the furs out it’ll make a nice clean job of it. Let’s have a look at the safe. You can have a dress rehearsal just to make sure you can open it. You can bet your last penny they’ll want you to be there when they crack the job.”

  Julie took him into Blanche’s bedroom.

  Wouldn’t Mrs. Dawson be tickled to have a room like this,” Dawson said, looking round. “How does Wesley get on with his wife?” The question was shot at Julie and she became aware that Dawson was watching her closely.

  “He’s getting at something,” she thought. “I’ll have to be careful.”

  “All right, I suppose,” she said. “Perhaps you’d better ask him.”

  Dawson stroked his long nose.

  “Shouldn’t think he’d tell me,” he said with a dry smile. “He didn’t strike me as a friendly individual. Where’s the safe?”

  Julie showed him.

  “Let’s see you open it. Don’t forget to turn off the alarms. I don’t want my people coming over here for nothing.”

  Julie found the switch behind the head of the bed and turned it off. She went into the bathroom and turned off both switches on the wall. It took her a minute or so to find the square in the quilted wall that hid the dial and pointer. She set the pointer to number three, pressed the catch and opened the first door.

  “That’s pretty good,” Dawson said. “What happens next?” Julie opened the steel door by pressing the switch, turned off the light that fell on the photo-electric cell and stood back. “That’s how it’s done,” she said, rather pleased with herself. Dawson eyed the furs and whistled.

  “A beautiful haul,” he said. “All right. That’s smooth enough. Close up.”

  Julie shut the safe, turned on the alarms and followed him back to the lounge.

  “We want to find out when they’ll make the raid,” Dawson told her. “If you’re careful there’ll be nothing to worry about. But keep your eye on Theo. Gleb’s a smooth, smart alec, but Theo’s dangerous.”

  “I know,” Julie said.

  Dawson eyed her thoughtfully.

  “And when this little party’s over, what are you going to do? Get into more trouble?”

  Julie stiffened.

  “I’m not,” she said coldly.

  “That’s good.” The blue eyes were searching. “Is Mr. Wesley going to do something for you? He seems interested in you.”

  “I have no idea. I don’t have to worry. I can always find myself a job.”

  “Well, that’s something, isn’t it? You haven’t done so well up to now, but perhaps you’ve learned sense. Let’s hope so. You might not have a rich gentleman to champion you next time, young lady, so watch your step.”

  He opened the front door and went off down the passage.

  IV

  “She should be here in a minute,” Mrs. French said, with an impatient glance at the clock. “Theo’s watching her. I don’t think there’ll be trouble.”

  Harry Gleb picked his teeth with a pin. There was a worried look in his eyes although he took pains to appear at ease.

  “I don’t lik
e Theo,” he said. “One of these days you’ll be sorry you took him on.”

  Mrs. French gave an impatient grunt.

  “What’s the matter with him? You’re always on about him. I’m sick and tired of hearing you grouse.”

  Harry eyed her, put the pin back in his coat lapel, sat forward.

  “He’s unreliable,” he said, tapping the desk with a manicured nail. “He’s dangerous. He’s like a rat : corner him and he’ll bite.”

  “He’s too smart to be cornered.”

  Harry laughed.

  “Theo—smart? Don’t make me laugh. His brain is fossilized. All he thinks about is bashing his way out of trouble. One of these days he’s going to do murder, and I don’t want to be with him when he does it.”

  “You talk like an old woman,” Mrs. French said coldly. “Theo’s all right.”

  “A bloke who throws vitriol is never all right,” Harry said. “He did six months for bashing a girl, didn’t he? The cops have his finger-prints. If he makes one slip he’s had it; and if the cops sweat him he’ll squeal. Then what will you and me do?”

  “I’m not worrying about him; I’m worrying about that Holland girl. She’ll squeal if we don’t watch her.”

  Harry rubbed his face, frowned.

  “I’m getting out of this game after this job, Ma,” he said. “It’s getting too hot. I think I’ll slip over to the States and have a look round. Let things cool off here.”

  “What’s the matter with you?” Mrs. French asked sharply. “Getting cold feet or something?”

  “Shouldn’t be surprised,” Harry said frankly. “I’ve had a good run. I’ve got a bit salted away and this job isn’t going to be for peanuts. Might as well enjoy myself while I can.”

  “You haven’t done the job yet,” Mrs. French reminded him. The office door pushed open and Dana came in.

  “Hasn’t she come?” she asked, running her slim fingers through Harry’s hair. “Hello, Harry, remember me?” He jerked his head away irritably.

  “Cut it out,” he said, took out a comb and tidied his hair. She looked at him, glanced over at her mother who pursed her lips.

  “Harry’s quitting after this job,” Mrs. French said. “Wants to go to America.”

  “So do I,” Dana said. “We’ll go together, won’t we Harry?” He gave her a shifty look, smiled.

  “It might be an idea,” he said, without conviction. “But I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

  A timid tap sounded on the outer door.

  “That’s her,” Dana said, her lips tightening. “I’ll go.” She found Julie waiting in the dark passage.

  “Come in,” Dana said. “You’re late, aren’t you?”

  “Am I?” Julie said curtly, “I don’t know.” Her heart was hammering and her throat was dry, but she had control of herself and apart from a steadily beating vein in her temple she looked calm and at ease.

  “Hello, Jane,” said a sneering voice behind her, and she flinched, looked quickly over her shoulder.

  Theo materialized out of the darkness.

  “Been trailing you all the evening, just in case you changed your mind,” he said. His bad, stale breath fanned her face, and she shuddered.

  “Come in,” Dana said sharply. She disliked Theo, and wished her mother didn’t employ him.

  She led the way into the inner office. Theo trod on Julie’s heels as he followed her.

  “I bet you’ve been dreaming of me, Jane,” he said, grinning. “Nice little nightmares that made you sweat.”

  Harry kicked back his chair and stood up.

  “Shut your trap, you half-grown monkey,” he said. “Who told you to talk?”

  Theo eyed him evilly, slouched to a chair and sat down. “You’d better tell this bloke to lay off me,” he said to Mrs. French. “I’m getting tired of him.”

  “Hello, Julie,” Harry said with a nervous smile. “Come and sit down near me.”

  Julie gave him a look of contempt and turned her back on him.

  Theo sniggered.

  “That’s pretty good. Give her a kick in the tail,” he said.

  “Shut up, both of you,” Mrs. French snapped. “Here, you,” this to Julie. “Sit down. Have you found out how the safe opens?”

  Julie faced her.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Pity,” Theo said. “I was looking forward to do you, Jane.” Harry made a move to get up again, but Mrs. French waved impatiently at him.

  “All right, sit down and tell us,” Mrs. French said.

  Julie pulled up a chair away from Harry and sat down. “I took notes. You’d better read them,” she said.

  Theo leaned forward.

  “They’d better be all right,” he said. “You try any tricks, Jane, and you’ll be sorry.”

  Julie recoiled before his vicious scowl.

  Harry hit Theo across his mouth with the back of his hand. Theo and his chair went over backwards. For a second or so he lay sprawled on the floor, stunned. Then he began to swear, his face vicious with rage. His hand went to his hip pocket and he dragged out a small automatic pistol. But Harry was ready for that. He kicked the gun out of Theo’s hand, picked it up and put it on the table.

  “I warned you,” he said, glaring down at Theo. “When I say shut up, I mean shut up. And don’t try to pull a gun on me again, you cheap little gangster.”

  Theo got slowly to his feet. There was a look in his eyes that frightened Julie. He touched his nose and mouth with the back of his hand, then slouched over to the settee under the window and stretched out on it. His silence was more chilling than a display of temper.

  Mrs. French glanced at him, picked up the gun and put it in her bag.

  “How many times have I to tell you not to carry guns?” she demanded. Her bright eyes revealed her rage. “Are you carrying a gun, Harry?”

  Not likely,” Harry said, still glaring at Theo. “I’m not a kid like wet-ears over there. I’ve never carried a gun and I never will. I’m not soft in the head.”

  Mrs. French grunted.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” she said to Theo.

  Theo pursed his lips but said nothing. He stared up at the ceiling, hate in his eyes.

  Julie watched all this with fascinated horror. The sight of the gun had turned her cold.

  “All right,” Mrs. French said. “Let’s get down to business. Where’s this paper of yours?”

  Julie produced a sheet of paper covered with her neat writing and put it on the desk.

  Mrs. French read it through and Harry stood behind her, reading over her shoulder.

  “Two alarms,” Harry said, and whistled. “They’re not taking any chances. I said I thought it was a photo-electric cell. This is fine; just what we want.”

  Mrs. French looked searchingly at Julie.

  “And you’re sure you can open it?”

  Julie nodded.

  “How did you find out all this?”

  “Mrs. Wesley gave a demonstration to a friend of hers. I was hiding in the room,” Julie said.

  “Good for you,” Harry said and smiled at her, but she looked away. She knew he was trying to be friendly, but she hated him and there was nothing he could do now that would change her feelings towards him.

  “All right,” Mrs. French said, and laid down the paper. Now we can make a start. To-day’s Wednesday. I’ll be ready by the week-end. What are they doing on Saturday? Do you know?”

  “I’m leaving on Saturday,” Julie said. “Mrs. Wesley has given me notice.”

  They all looked at her; even Theo raised his head and stared with intent concentration at her.

  “Why?” Mrs. French demanded.

  “She doesn’t like me,” Julie said. “It wasn’t any particular thing I did.”

  “You’ve got to be there when we do the job,” Mrs. French said. “You’re in this up to the neck. Friday, then.”

  “Why can’t you leave me alone?” Julie said, thinking it would be wiser to put on a show of reluctance.
“I’ve told you how the safe opens. I won’t do any more.”

  “You’ll do what I tell you. You can’t get out of it now, so you may as well make the best of it. We’ll take care of you. Harry will tie you up before he leaves. So long as you keep your head they can’t pin anything on you. You’ll get your share. It’ll be worth five hundred to you. When the police question you, tell them three men came to the front door, grabbed you and tied you up. You didn’t get a chance to see what they looked like, except they wore dark overcoats and slouch hats. Make up your own description. You’re no fool, and stick to your story. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Julie said sullenly.

  “All right.” Mrs. French turned her attention to Harry. “Your job is to work with Julie, take the furs and put them in the service lift. Theo will be in the basement to receive them. There’s room for a car in the back alley. It’s only a step from the basement to the alley. As soon as you’ve sent the furs down, take the jewellery, tie Julie up and take the staff lift to the ground floor. We can go into the details about the exact time later.” She shot Julie a hard look. “Think the Wesleys will be out on Friday?”

  “I know they will,” Julie said. “I heard them talking. They’re going to dinner and a theatre.”

  “All right,” Mrs. French said, looked across at Harry. “It’s fixed for Friday at eight o’clock.”

  Harry nodded.

  “Suits me,” he said, but there was a lurking uneasiness in his eyes.

  Any questions?” Mrs. French asked.

  “I don’t like leaving Julie in the flat when the job’s done,” Harry said. “You know what the police are. They’ll smell it’s an inside job. Think she’ll stand up to them?”

  “If she keeps her head it’ll be all right,” Mrs. French said shortly. “There’s no other way.”

  “But if she doesn’t?” Harry persisted. “Suppose she loses her nerve and talks. That’ll let us out.”

  Theo suddenly sat up.

  “She won’t lose her nerve,” he said. “That’s the last thing she’ll lose,” and he began to laugh. The high-pitched, cracked laugh was vicious and degenerate.