Eve

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Eve Page 19

by James Hadley Chase


  I walked down the long corridor to Sam Bernstien’s office, feeling depressed. If only Eve had been free. I would have persuaded her to take the day off and we would have had fun together. I could have spent the night with her. But now, I was faced with a hopelessly blank twenty-four hours unless Bernstein had something for me.

  “Go right ahead,” his secretary told me as soon as I gave her my name. “Mr. Bernstien has been trying to get you.”

  I brightened. This sounded promising.

  “Hello there,” I said as I entered the office.

  Bernstien jumped to his feet. “I’ve been calling you. It’s all right. R.G. agrees. What do you know? A contract for one hundred thousand dollars. I congratulate you.”

  I stared at him speechless.

  “I thought that would surprise you,” he said grinning. “Didn’t I tell you I would get round Gold? I know him. I know all his little ways.” He opened a drawer and took out a contract form. “Everything has been agreed to. I have had my way in everything. See for yourself.”

  With unsteady hands I picked up the contract and began to read. Then quite suddenly my heart gave a lurch and I went cold.

  “But it says here I’m to do the shooting script,” I stammered.

  “Of course,” Bernstien beamed. “Carol suggested the idea herself and when I mentioned it to R.G. he made that the condition of the contract. He said that the picture would be no use unless it had your brilliant dialogue. Those were his very words.”

  I sat down limply. Gold knew then. No wonder he was offering a hundred thousand dollars. He knew that I would not dare attempt to produce any dialogue.

  “But aren’t you pleased?” Bernstien demanded, staring at me with puzzled eyes. “Is anything wrong? Don’t you feel well?”

  “I’m all right,” I said dully. “This — this has been a bit of a shock to me.”

  Bernstien brightened at once. “Of course. You did not expect so much. But it’s a grand play and it will make a fine picture. Have a drink?”

  I was glad to gulp down the stiff whisky he gave me. All the time he was fussing around mixing the drink, I was trying to think of a way out. There was no way out. Gold had got me where he wanted me.

  The next couple of hours meant nothing to me. I drove around aimlessly, my mind stunned by the trick Gold had devised, wondering how I was going to explain to Carol that I could not go through with it.

  I had to make money some way. I just could not go on without money. Then I remembered Lucky Strike.

  When I first came to Hollywood I had been a keen gambler and I used to go out to the gambling ships which were anchored off the California beaches. There were more than a dozen of these ships which avoided the regulations by staying outside the three mile limit and I had been out to the Lucky Strike a number of times. It was about the best equipped gambling ship of the lot and I had at one time or another won considerable sums of money. I would try my luck again.

  Whether it was because I had faith in my luck or because I had something to do I brightened up and I drove to the Writers’ Club and cashed a cheque for a thousand dollars.

  I had a few drinks and some sandwiches and spent the rest of the afternoon looking through the illustrated papers and brooding about Gold.

  I had a light supper at the club and it was just after nine o’clock when I drove down to Santa Monica bay. I turned into the parking lot on the pier and for several minutes I sat in the Chrysler looking across the bay.

  I could see the Lucky Strike anchored outside the three mile limit. It was a mass of lights and already taxi-boats were going out to the ship.

  It was a good ten minutes’ ride out to the Lucky Strike. The taxi-boat rolled and pitched a little, but it did not bother me. There were only five other passengers with me. Four of them were well dressed, rich looking, middle-aged businessmen and the other was a girl. She was tall and a red head. Her skin was creamy and soft looking. Her body in her tight yellow dress was soft looking too. She was voluptuous and sensual and she had a high-pitched, slightly hysterical laugh.

  I sat opposite her. She had good legs although they thickened abruptly above her knees. She was with a grey haired man with a hooked nose. He seemed kind of embarrassed when she laughed. I looked at her and she looked at me. I could see she knew what I was thinking because she suddenly stopped laughing and began pulling her skirt over her knees. It was too short and tight, so she kept her hands on her knees and did not look at me any more.

  The Lucky Strike was about two hundred and fifty feet long.

  It looked big from the little taxi-boat and there was trouble with the red head before she got aboard. I guess she was kind of self conscious climbing up the wind swept ladder. Anyway she made a lot of fuss and the man with the hooked nose got mad at her.

  There was a big crowd on board and I lost sight of her. I was sorry. She was like a candle burning in a dark room.

  I mixed with the crowd, but I did not see anyone I knew. I wanted a drink badly so I headed for the bar. It was packed with people, but I managed to catch the bartender’s eye. I got part of a double whisky which was handed to me over the heads of the crowd. It was no good trying to get another, so I went into the main cabin where the dice tables were.

  I edged through the crowd until I reached the centre table. I had to use my elbows, but the crowd seemed good tempered and let me through. Green dice rolled across the green cloth, struck the rim together and bounced back. One stopped short showing five white spots. The other tumbled out to die centre of the table and came to rest with six spots on top.

  A sigh went up as the winner cleared the table of money.

  I watched the play for about five minutes and then the dice came to me.

  I put down two twenties and threw snake-eyes. I put down another twenty and threw a five. After four throws I made it and let it ride. Then I threw an eleven and began to coast.

  I made five straight passes, then I lost the dice. I began to bet on the board.

  I found the red head was standing at my side. She was wedging her hip against mine. I leaned against her, but I did not look at her. The dice came around to me again. I put down two fifties and made it. I made two more passes. Then I crapped out.

  “You’re losing a lot of weight,” the red head said.

  I wiped my forehead with a handkerchief and looked around for the man with the hooked nose. He was wedged against the table opposite us. He could not hear what she was saying.

  “Do you like that guy?” I asked. I was betting ten dollars at a time and I had just won again.

  She crowded me. “Would it make any difference?”

  I got the dice again and upped the ante. “It might,” I said and made three straight passes.

  “I’m bringing you luck,” she said. “It’s my red head.”

  My next throw was seven. I waited until they paid me and then passed the dice.

  “Let’s go somewhere,” I said, my pockets tight with money. “Have you been here before?”

  The man with the hooked nose had the dice now. He threw two sixes. They took his money.

  “I know all the places,” she said and squeezed herself out of the crowd. I noticed a lot of men enjoyed that. I did not blame them.

  I took a quick look at the man with the hooked nose, but he was busy. So I forced myself through the crowd and joined her.

  She led me along the deck, through the crowds, up an iron ladder. I could not see her, but I could smell her perfume. I followed her with my nose.

  The crowds suddenly disappeared and we were alone. I felt the rail against my back and she was pressing against me.

  “The moment I saw you . . .” she said.

  “That’s the way it is,” I said and took hold of her. She was big and soft. My fingers sank into her back.

  “Just kiss me,” she said and she put her hands under my coat.

  We stayed like that for a minute.

  Then she jerked away. “Whew! Come up for air,” she said.

/>   I hated her suddenly more than anyone ever hated anyone.

  I took hold of her again, but she shoved me off. She was terribly strong. I did not think she could be so strong.

  “Don’t rush me,” she said, giggling. “Just take it easy.”

  I wanted to slam my fist in her face, but I stood away and said nothing.

  I could see her fiddling with her hair. She turned round and looked at the moon that was coming up fast.

  “I’d better get back,” she said.

  “That’s all right with me.”

  She made no move. “He’ll be wondering where I am.”

  “I guess he will.”

  It was a pushover.

  She put her hands on her lips. “I believe you bruised me.”

  I did not care a great deal. “Not you,” I said.

  She laughed. “The moon looks all right now,” she said, turning back to me.

  “Were you waiting for the moon?”

  “Hm-hm.” Her hands reached out and I pulled her against me.

  “I don’t neck with every guy I meet,” she said as if excusing herself.

  “I should worry what you do so long as you do it now,” I said, still hating her, but overwhelmed by her.

  She bit my mouth.

  Someone laughed on the deck below. I knew that laugh. No one but Eve could laugh like that. I shoved the red head away.

  “What’s the matter?” Her voice was a mumble.

  I stood listening.

  Eve laughed again. I looked over the rail but the crowd was too dense. I could not see her.

  “Hey!” The red head sounded angry.

  “To hell with you,” I said.

  She swung at me, but I caught her wrist. It felt soft and flabby in my grip. She gave a kind of squeal.

  I called her a name and left her.

  Down on the deck I looked around for Eve. I saw her at last standing by the lighted doorway that led to the roulette room. By her side was a tall hard-faced man in a well fitting tuxedo.

  I knew who he was.

  As I moved towards them, they went into the roulette room. He had his hand on her elbow and she was looking happy.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I DID not want Eve to see me. Anyway, not just yet. I was not able to stand in the doorway because people kept crowding in. The room, although large, was pretty tightly packed. From the door, I could not see the tables, although I could see the shaded arc lights that illuminated them.

  I moved cautiously forward until I reached the first table. I was wedged then, and looking around, I saw Eve was not there. I guessed she would be at the far table and I tried to make my way there. The crowd was too thick and I had to wait.

  The croupier was singing out, “Faites vos jeux Messieurs.”

  There was a concerted movement towards the table and I was carried along with it.

  A moment later the croupier said, “Les jeux sent faits.” The pressure eased and I was able to back away from the table and drift down the room. Even then it was not easy. I picked up some black looks as I squeezed through the crowd, using my elbows and trying to be pleasant about it.

  It was a full ten minutes before I reached the other table. Eve was standing behind Jack Hurst who had managed to get a seat.

  The croupier was saying, “Onze, noir, impair.”

  After he had raked in the losing stakes, he pushed a small pile of chips across to Hurst.

  “Messieurs, faites vos jeux.”“

  Eve leaned forward and whispered in Hurst’s ear. Her eyes were bright and she looked almost beautiful. He shook his head impatiently, but did not look around. He staked on black and Impair.

  While other players were staking, I eyed him with interest. He was big, broad shouldered and powerful looking. His eyes were deep set and his nose straight. He had no top lip. His mouth looked like a hard line drawn with a ruler and pencil.

  His tuxedo fitted him well and his linen was flawless. I guessed he would be about forty.

  So this was the guy Eve had fallen for. I did not blame her. Whatever else he was, he was a man. I found it hard to admit, but Jack Hurst looked all right.

  I glanced at Eve. She had her hand possessively on his shoulder and she never took her eyes off him for one second. Every move he made she watched excitedly. I hardly recognized her. She was animated and I had never seen her look so happy.

  All the same, I was sick with jealousy. If Hurst had been a little rat of a man, it would not have been so bad. But he wasn’t. I could not help comparing him with myself. The comparison wasn’t so good. He was better looking, more interesting and more powerful. He looked like a man who would get his own way in everything he did.

  The wheel spun and Eve leaned forward. Hurst just sat with his eyes on the wheel, cold and disinterested.

  The croupier said, “Rien ne va plus.”

  The ball gradually slipped down the ledge and finally lodged in one of the compartments of the bowl.

  The croupier paid out. He shoved more chips at Hurst and smiled at him. Hurst didn’t catch his eye.

  I began a slow move around the table. It was difficult and Hurst won more chips before I got behind Eve. I had to elbow a fat old woman out of the way before I got right behind her. I could smell the perfume in her hair. I wanted to touch her, but I didn’t.

  She said in a whisper to Hurst, “Double your stakes.”

  “Shut up,” he said.

  He put down six chips on the line between 16 and 13. I reached over and put three one hundred dollar chips down on the red.

  Eve turned. We looked at each other.

  “Hello,” I said.

  Her face became wooden and she turned away.

  All right, you slut, I thought. If that’s the way you want to play it.

  The croupier said, “Les jeux sont faits,” and tossed the ivory ball into the wheel.

  It came up red.

  The croupier took Hurst’s chips before he shoved mine over to me.

  “I’ll leave it there,” I said, “O.K?”

  The croupier nodded.

  Hurst had lost about fifty dollars. He put more chips on the table. It came up red again.

  “Leave it there,” I said.

  Hurst lost his chips.

  He glanced over his shoulder at me and a slight smile came into his eyes. I grinned right back at him. I could afford to.

  He did elaborate things with his chips this time laying them out on the first and third dozen.

  The red came up and they took Hurst’s chips again. I guessed he had lost about two hundred dollars. I had about eight hundred dollars on the red now. The croupier looked at me inquiringly. I nodded.

  As Hurst was about to stake again, Eve said, “It’s no good tonight. Let’s go.” She looked worried.

  “Shut up,” Hurst said.

  That seemed to be the only thing he could say to her.

  Again the red came up and again Hurst lost his chips.

  I put two hundred dollar chips on Passe and left the pile of chips on red.

  People crowded close behind me. I had quite a piece of money on the table now.

  Hurst didn’t stake.

  The wheel spun. The ivory ball hovered over red 36, then dropped lazily into black 13.

  The croupier raked in all my chips and shook his head at me. I tried to grin, but it didn’t quite come off.

  I’d seen fifteen hundred dollars slide through my fingers and that hurt. I let it ride.

  Hurst began to stake again. This time he won. It looked like he couldn’t win when I was playing. I waited a couple of rounds then I staked two hundred on the black.

  The red came up.

  All right, I thought, then I’ll play red. I was crazy not to play the red.

  I was four hundred dollars down.

  As I reached forward to place my stake, I touched Eve’s hip. It was like touching a live wire. She moved quickly away and that told me she knew who was touching her. I didn’t care. It was enough just t
o stand by her and watch the man she loved losing his money.

  I put down five hundred dollars on the red.

  Hurst staked too.

  The red came up and Hurst lost.

  It went on like that for fifteen minutes. I did not stake every time. Twice I was going to take the pile of chips off the table, but something stopped me.

  The red came up eleven times. I could hear all the people letting their breath out.

  “Leave it on the red,” I said. There were fifty two hundred dollar chips there.

  The croupier said, “No bet.” He didn’t start the wheel.

  Then, right off, an argument started. A little man with a scar across his face started shouting that they had to take the bet and spin the wheel.

  The croupier just sat there and shook his head.

  Hurst said suddenly, “Spin that goddam wheel.” There was a crack like a whip in his voice.

  The croupier whispered something to a tall, thin bird who had pushed his way up to the table.

  Hurst said, “Tell him to spin the wheel, Tony.”

  The tall thin bird looked at my pile of chips and his lips pursed. He looked at Hurst and then at me. Then he said to the croupier, “Well, what the hell are you waiting for?”

  The croupier lifted his shoulders. “Messieurs, faites vos jeux.”

  Everyone crowded forward. It was an exciting moment. I put my hand down and found Eve’s. She did not look at me, but she let me hold it. I got more of a bang out of that than I did watching the wheel spin.

  The ball seemed to be taking a long time to make up its mind. It dropped into the red and seemed about to settle, then at the last moment, almost as if an unseen hand had given it a flip, it rolled into the black.

  There was a long drawn-out sigh from the crowd.

  “Why didn’t you stop, you weak fool?” Eve said, snatching her hand away.

  Hurst looked over his shoulder, stared at her and then at me. Everyone was looking at me. I just stood there, feeling weak at the knees. By just one throw too many I had gypped myself out of ten thousand dollars.

  “Okay?” The thin bird asked, sneering at me.

 

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