1949 - You're Lonely When You Dead

by James Hadley Chase

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, flicking ash on the floor. ‘When was Anita Gay with you?’

  ‘She was with us for two years. I can give you the exact date if it interests you.’ He raked around in a drawer full of papers and odd junk, and finally produced a leather-bound memo book. He flicked through the pages until he came to the entry he was looking for and laid the book on the desk.

  ‘That’s another thing I’m always telling Julius. Always make a note of everything that happens in the office. Make it so you can find it again quickly. You never know when you may need it. Now here,’ his hand slapped the open page of the book. ‘It’s all here. She came to the office on 3rd June, two years ago. She said her name was Anita Broda. She wanted a job. She had been a stripper, working the nightclubs in Hollywood, but she’d got herself in bad with the Vice Squad, and her agent had turned sour on her. Roy Fletcher had advised her to come to see me. Fletcher handles legitimate stars. He hadn’t anything for her, and didn’t want her anyway. So he sent her to me.’ He looked at me and grinned. ‘You’ve seen her, Mr. Malloy’

  I said, yes, I had seen her.

  ‘Very nice,’ he said. ‘She stood over there,’ he pointed to the window, ‘and did her act. Even Julius was impressed, and he’s a very hard man to impress: the hardest man in this racket. After the first week she moved from the middle to the top of the bill. After the second week we had her name in lights across the front of the house.’

  ‘Why isn’t she here now?’

  His face darkened.

  ‘She got married. It’s always the same, Mr. Malloy. Get a good girl who draws in the money, and she gets married. Marriage is the biggest menace there is to this racket.’

  I was beginning to wonder if I hadn’t squandered my fifty bucks a little recklessly.

  ‘You haven’t seen her since her marriage?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘I heard she and Thayler didn’t get on, and she left him. Anyway, she got a job with Simeon, the swank dress designer on 19th Avenue. I sent Julius down to see her, to try to persuade her to come back, but she wouldn’t. I guess being a mannequin sort of raised her social status. She was a girl to get on. Anyway, nothing I could offer her interested her. She left Simeon’s about a couple of months ago. I don’t know where she is now.’

  I let him run on, but I was stiff with attention.

  ‘She and Thayler,’ I said. ‘Who’s Thayler?’

  ‘Her husband.’

  ‘You wouldn’t know when she married him?’

  “Sure,’ he said complacently, and patted the book again. ‘I’m not likely to forget. Marrying him lost me a lot of money. They were married on 8th November last year.’

  ‘What happened to him? Did he die?’

  ‘Die?’ Nedick blinked. ‘No, he didn’t die. He’s right here in town. He and a guy named Louis run a photographer’s shop on Army Street.’

  My head began to ache suddenly. Maybe I was thinking too hard. I pressed my fingertips to my temples and scowled at him.

  ‘Let’s talk about Thayler,’ I said. ‘Tell me about him. Tell me all about him.’

  Nedick opened a cupboard in his desk and hoisted up a black bottle without a label and two glasses.

  ‘Would a drink be any good to you?’ he asked. ‘You look sort of pinched.’

  “That’s the right word,’ I said. ‘Set them up and tell me about Thayler.’

  He poured two shots of whisky into the glasses. We nodded to each other and drank.

  While I was getting out the aspirin bottle, he said, ‘Lee Thayler was here when Anita came. He did a Buffalo Bill act. It wasn’t bad, and he kept changing his routine so we kept him on. The trouble with most of the hams we get here is they can’t vary their routine. After a week they’re through. But Thayler was different. He was smart, and kept working out new tricks.’

  I swallowed a couple of aspirins and chased them down with whisky.

  ‘What kind of tricks?’ I asked.

  ‘Anything with a rifle. You know the kind of thing: shooting at pennies tossed in the air; firing at targets by sighting in a mirror; trick stuff. He had a very good trick with a Colt .45. He would throw the gun in the air, catch it and fire at the same time. He had a girl to help him in this trick. He shot cigarettes out of her mouth. It was a dangerous act, but he had plenty of confidence.’

  ‘And he married Anita?’

  ‘He did.’ Nedick scowled. ‘Both of them quit when they married. Thayler bought himself a piece in this photographer’s shop. He reckoned he was ready to settle down to a steady job when he married. It was hard to believe because Thayler wasn’t the type to settle down. But as far as I know he did settle down. Anyway, he seems to be doing all right. He knew a lot of people in the show business, and they all went to him to be photographed. Louis does the actual work. Thayler’s job is to drum up new business.’

  ‘And Anita left him?’

  ‘So I heard. I don’t know the details. Perhaps she got sick of sitting around doing nothing. Thayler was a mean sort of guy. I guess when the first bloom wore off they started fighting. He’d fight with anyone.’

  ‘Were they divorced?’

  ‘I never heard they were.’

  He poured two more whiskies. We touched glasses before we drank. The whisky was good. It was only when it was down you realized what a kick it had.

  ‘Would you have a photograph of this guy?’

  ‘Sure.’ He pointed to one of the filing cabinets. ‘You’re younger than me. Open the top drawer of that file. Yeah, that one. There should be a folder of photographs . . . you got it? Bring it over here.’

  I laid the folder on the desk and be began to paw over a collection of glossy prints. Finally he found one he was looking for and handed it to me.

  ‘That’s him.’

  I looked at the tall lean cowboy who stood against a painted backcloth of cactus and open prairie land. He had on sheepskin chaps, a ten-gallon hat and a check shirt. His face was long and narrow, his lips were thin, and his eyes steady and dangerous. He looked as if he seldom smiled, and when he did the smile wouldn’t reach his eyes. It was the face of a man who would take risks; a gambler’s face; a man who would hold life cheap.

  I said, ‘Can I keep this?’

  Nedick nodded.

  ‘If you want it. I have a photograph of Anita somewhere. That fur glove routine of hers was a natural. It had the boys sitting on the edge of their chairs.’ His big hands pawed over more photographs and he found one similar to the one I had taken from George Barclay’s drawer. ‘That’s her. If you ever run into her tell her I’d like to do business with her again. I can’t let you have it; it’s the only one I have left.’ He fished out another photograph, tossed it over. ‘That’s Thayler doing his cigarette trick act. I didn’t like it. I was scared there’d be an accident. It was too dangerous. But the girl didn’t mind. She had nerves like steel.’

  But I wasn’t listening. I was staring at the photograph. It showed Thayler in his cowboy dress shooting at a girl who faced the camera, her profile turned to Thayler. It was a good photograph. You could see the cigarette flying out of the girl’s mouth, and the smoke and flash of the gun. The girl was wearing a kind of bodice made out of pony skin, a G-string and a ten-gallon hat.

  ‘It wasn’t that he aimed at the cigarette,’ Nedick said. ‘He didn’t. He threw up the gun caught it and fired in one continuous movement. It made me sweat to watch him.’

  It made me sweat to look at the photograph, for the girl in the G-string was Miss Bolus.

  The door jerked open, and the man with the crinkly hair came in. He put some papers on the desk.

  ‘That’s Gardener’s contract,’ he said to Nedick. ‘You’d better sign it before the lug changes his mind.’

  As Nedick reached for a pen, he asked. ‘What’s that girl like out there? We’re not missing anything, are we?’

  ‘She stinks,’ the man with’ the crinkly hair said co
ntemptuously.

  ‘Then send her away. I can hear her bones creaking in here. It worries me.’

  ‘Everything worries you,’ the man with the crinkly hair said. ‘Do her good to get some exercise,’ and he gathered up the papers and went out.

  Through the open door I could see the girl. She was sitting on a chair, her dress across her knees and she was crying.

  The man with the crinkly hair said to her, ‘I’m going to give you some advice. The best thing you can do is to take the elevator to the top floor, pick a nice high window and jump out of it. Your act stinks and you stink. Now, beat it.’

  He closed the door as the girl got slowly to her feet.

  Nedick said, ‘Sometimes I think Julius is a little rude to people.’

  I thought it would be nice to go into the outer office, pick up the typewriter and to try and smash it to bits on the top of Julius’s black, crinkly head. But it wasn’t my business how he treated people, so I said, ‘Tell me something about this girl: the one in this photograph. What’s her name?’

  Nedick took the photograph, studied it, laid it down.

  ‘That’s Gail Bolus.’ He shot an inquisitive look at me. ‘Does she interest you?’

  ‘Any girl who dresses like that interests me,’ I said. ‘Is she still around?’

  ‘No. We never did know much about her. Thayler brought her with him: she was part of his act. He paid her out of his own pocket. Apart from her name, there’s not much I know about her. Except she had very strong nerves.’

  ‘She quit when Thayler quit?’

  ‘Oh, no. She quit before that: when Thayler started to make passes at Anita Gay. That put the skids on his act. He couldn’t find another girl with, the right kind of nerve. He wanted Anita to take Gail’s place, but she wouldn’t touch it; I didn’t blame her either.’

  ‘Were Gail Bolus and Thayler anything to each other?’

  ‘I guess so. A mixed act usually gets around to sleeping together sooner or later. They were no exception. But she wouldn’t stand for him and Anita getting together, and she told him so. They quarrelled and she walked out on him.’

  ‘She quit about six months ago?’

  Nedick said, yes, it would be about six months ago.

  ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘We lost sight of her. She didn’t register with any agent. She hadn’t any particular talent except to stand still and let Thayler shoot at her. I guess she quit show business.’

  ‘You never ran into a guy named Caesar Mills?’

  He explored his memory, finally shook his head.

  ‘It’s not a name I recall.’

  ‘Would you know anything about Louis?’

  He stroked his moustache and let out a half-hearted chuckle.

  ‘You certifiably believe in getting value for your money, don’t you, young man? I can’t sit around all day talking to you. I have a business to look after.’

  ‘You leave it to Julius,’ I said, and reached for my wallet again. ‘Suppose we say another twenty-five?’

  He filled up the glasses as a sign of assent. The money exchanged hands, and he settled back in his chair again.

  ‘You’re a man after my own heart, Mr. Malloy,’ he said, beaming. ‘Now what do you want to know about Louis?’

  ‘What kind of man is he?’

  Nedick spread out his big fat hands and hunched his shoulders.

  ‘An arty guy. He can take pictures, and he’s cheap. He gets all our trade.’

  ‘Concentrate on what he looks like.’

  ‘Tall, weedy, effeminate, chin bead and has two convictions for criminal assault,’ Nedick said rapidly.

  That gave me a picture. I liked this guy, Nedick. He was saving me an awful lot of leg work.

  ‘How does he stand with the cops?’

  ‘Not good. The assault raps hang over him, although they happened five and ten years ago. I guess he’s got used to taking girls in the flesh by now. But there are rumours…’

  I waited, but as he said nothing, I said, ‘Don’t dry up on me. I’ll have the rumours as well as the facts.’

  ‘If you can handle a camera well, Mr. Malloy,’ Nedick said, pulling at his lower lip, ‘and you haven’t any moral scruples, you can always earn a living: even if it’s a smelly one.’

  ‘Don’t go vague on me,’ I pleaded. ‘I’ll treat it in confidence.’

  ‘The cops think he’s running a blackmail racket. I wouldn’t know if they’re right or not. He takes his camera out nights in Buena Vista Park. It’s a nice spot for couples to get to know each other. Some of the couples don’t always want their photographs taken. You know how it is. Some of the negatives might be worth quite a bit of money. It’s just a rumour. Nothing you can pin on him.’

  I said I knew how it was.

  I said, ‘From what you know of Thayler, could you see him mixed up in blackmail?’

  Nedick laughed.

  ‘Thayler was the kind of guy who would be mixed up in anything. He was ambitious. He had no nerves. He wanted money. Believe me, Mr. Malloy, no one or nothing would stop him once he had made up his mind. I told Julius over and over again Thayler was dangerous. I said sooner or later he would get us into trouble, but Julius wouldn’t listen. Well, he didn’t get us into trouble because he quit before he had time to get into trouble. It wouldn’t surprise me if he turned out to be a killer. Blackmail? Sure. Thayler wouldn’t worry about blackmail. He’s ruthless. I was glad to see him go. If he hadn’t taken Anita with him I would have hung out a flag when he did go. I didn’t like him, and I didn’t like his act; but Julius kept him on because he brought in business. Only a man without a conscience would have put on an act as dangerous as that cigarette routine. It worried me. I was glad when he went.’

  I couldn’t think of any more questions to ask him so I slid off the desk.

  ‘Well, I guess that’s all then,’ I said, and shook hands with him. ‘If I think of anything else I’ll call in and see you. And thanks for your help.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ Nedick said. ‘Just so long as you have what you want. Take my tip and don’t monkey with Thayler. One of these days he’ll shoot someone. I wouldn’t like it to be you.’

  I said I wouldn’t like it to be me either.

  III

  After leaving the Brass Rail, I went straight back to the hotel The bellhop was hanging around the lobby, and I told him to have some sandwiches and four bottles of beer sent up to our room.

  I hadn’t been in the room more than five minutes before Kerman came in with the bellhop close on his heels.

  ‘What’s the idea of sandwiches?’ Kerman asked in disgust.

  ‘Can’t we afford to go to a restaurant?’

  The bellhop put the beer and sandwiches on the bamboo table and stood around, waiting to see if there was anything in it for him. I gave him half a buck and told him to scram.

  ‘If you guys are looking for a little recreation,’ he said hopefully, ‘I have that blonde lined up, waiting.’

  Kerman opened the door.

  ‘Beat it!’ he said.

  When the bellhop had gone I opened a couple of bottles of beer and started pouring.

  ‘I thought we’d better talk up here where we wouldn’t be overheard,’ I explained.

  ‘Well, all right,’ Kerman said, and sat in the armchair.

  ‘You were long enough in that dump. I was getting ready to organize a rescue.’

  I gave him a beer and went over to sit on the bed.

  ‘I’ve picked up a lot of stuff,’ I said, and told him what I had learned. I told him everything except about the girl contortionist. I thought if I told him about her he wouldn’t be able to keep his mind on business.

  He listened without saying anything, but he didn’t touch his beer, and that’s a sure sign I had his attention. When I was through, he let out a long, low whistle.

  ‘For crying out loud!’ he exclaimed. ‘What does it all
mean?’

  ‘All these facts are pieces in the jigsaw puzzle,’ I said.

  ‘They need fitting together. I had no idea Gail Bolus was hooked up in this business. All right, you don’t have to grin.’

  ‘Think she’s working hand-in-glove with Thayler?’

  ‘She might be. I don’t know. It may be a coincidence she turned up in Orchid City. She may have cut Thayler right out of her life. I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. The big discovery is that Anita was married when she married Cerf. If she married Cerf secretly - that is if Thayler had no idea what she was up to, and then found out - we shan’t have to look far for the blackmailer. And another thing that’s interesting. Thayler is an expert with a .45. He may be the boy who has done the killings.’

  Kerman grunted and drank some beer.

  ‘Do you think Thayler knocked off Benny?’

  ‘Thayler or Louis or both.’

  ‘And how about Mills? Is he out of it?’

  ‘I don’t know. I think there’s something going on between Natalie Cerf and him, but whether it has anything to do with this setup or not I don’t know.’

  ‘You don’t know much, do you?’ Kerman said. ‘You’ll have to do a lot better than this if you’re going to make a name for yourself.’

  ‘I know enough to tackle Louis now,’ I said. ‘And that’s what we’re going to do.’

  I opened my suitcase and took out a writing-pad. I wrote in big block letters the words: THIS BUSINESS IS CLOSED FOR THE DAY.

  Kerman said blankly, ‘You mean we don’t do any more work?’

  ‘Not us, you dope. We’re going across the way and we’re seeing Louis. We’ll stick this on the shop door as we go in.’

  Kerman hurriedly finished his beer.

  ‘This is the moment I’ve been waiting for,’ he said, and reached for his hat.

  IV

  As I pushed open the shop door a concealed bell went ping! Harsh electric lights lit up the outer room of the shop: a room smothered in glossy prints more or less on the same pattern as those decorating the outside of the Brass Rail. A short counter divided the outer from the inner room. The inner room, from what I could see of it between the gap in the two shabby curtains that had only been half-drawn, consisted of a number of chairs, a couple of partitions with curtains hanging before them and two big mirrors. Beyond the inner room was a narrow passage that led, I assumed, to the studio.