Table of Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Believe This, You’ll Believe Anything
James Hadley Chase
1975
One
I saw him through the glass wall of my office as he came into the outer office. He was tall, lean, possibly in his early thirties, dark and immaculately dressed in a lightweight white suit that had been sculptured on him by the loving hands of an expert. Looking at his tanned profile, I decided he had to be a movie star. No movie producer would let a profile like this go without a struggle.
Sue Douglas, my woman Friday, was on her feet, giving him her big generous smile of welcome. Few men could resist Sue: she was one of those cuddly, warm attractive girls who make you think of Koala bears and who you want to stroke.
Her smile made no impact. He regarded her the way you would regard a fly that had dropped into your martini. Under his unfriendly stare, her smile wilted a little. He looked around the office until he saw me at my desk. We regarded each other through the glass wall, then side stepping Sue, he crossed to the door of my office and entered, closing the door gently behind him.
‘Are you in charge here?’ he demanded. That he was English, educated at Eton and Cambridge became immediately apparent. During my six months stay in England, I had learned something about the various class accents of the English and there was no mistaking this one.
‘That’s correct.’ I got to my feet and gave him my version of a smile of welcome. ‘Clay Burden. Something I can do for you?’ I waved to the client’s chair which he regarded suspiciously, then having satisfied himself it wouldn’t spoil his beautiful white suit, he sank into it.
‘You have just opened here?’ he asked and glanced around critically.
‘Yes . . . we have been open for exactly six days Mr. . . .?’
He frowned at me, then lifted his elegant shoulders in a gesture that conveyed as plainly as if he had spoken, ‘For God’s sake, don’t you even know who I am? My name is Vernon Dyer. I suppose you wouldn’t know that. I am extremely well known here.’
‘You have the advantage of me.’
‘I take it you are a newcomer to Paradise City?’
‘Yes. I am from Boston, Mr. Dyer.’
‘I should have thought your agency would have chosen a local man.’
I let that one ride.
‘Is there something I can do for you?’
If there was he appeared in no hurry to tell me.
‘Is this all you have here: yourself and a girl?’
‘That’s all there is room for,’ I said. ‘The hotel would only spare so much space, but it is adequate.’
‘I shouldn’t have thought so. The American Express have a staff of fifteen.’
‘Then they are not housed in the Spanish Bay hotel which is, as I am sure you know, the most exclusive hotel in the City.’
‘I’m not interested in the hotel,’ he said curtly. ‘I am interested in getting a top class, travel agency service.’
‘Then you have come to the right place, Mr. Dyer. We don’t handle the paper work here. We are here to give information, advice and so on while our head office in Miami issues tickets, traveller’s cheques and in fact all the necessary paper work which comes to us by fast courier. For example, you may want to fly to New York. We can tell you the flights, book your seat, arrange for your ticket either to be delivered here or at Miami airport. This office gives personal advice. If that’s what you are looking for, you will get it.’
He digested this as he crossed one leg over the other. ‘I take it you will have heard of Mr. Henry Vidal?’
I was now getting a little bored with his arrogance. ‘Mr. Henry Vidal? No, I’m afraid not. His fame so far hadn’t reached Boston at the time I left,’ I said. ‘No one has mentioned the name to me since I arrived here so I have to admit Mr. Vidal doesn’t strike a note with me.’
He stared at me, not sure if I were conning him. I kept a bright look of interest on my face so he said, ‘I would say Mr. Vidal is the most important and influential man in Florida.’
‘That puts him ahead of the Kennedys, Mr. Nixon and the late Mr. Truman.’ I said gently. ‘It is extraordinarily remiss of me not to have heard his name.’
Two tiny red spots showed on Dyer’s thin cheeks and his eyes snapped.
‘Are you being impertinent?’
‘Not intentionally, Mr. Dyer. Is there something I can do for you?’
He hesitated, then said, ‘I am Mr. Vidal’s personal aide. Mr. Vidal has decided to transfer his account from the American Express to your organisation. I can’t imagine your organisation can be less efficient than the American Express. Let us hope not.’
‘I’ll be happy to do my best for Mr. Vidal,’ I said.
He studied me.
‘You probably imagine that this account will be small and difficult, Mr. Burden.’
Well, at least he had remembered my name.
‘Small or large; difficult or easy makes no difference Mr. Dyer. We are here to give service.’
He put on his fly-in-his-martini expression.
‘I hope so. Very well, consider yourself on trial. Open a checking account in the name of Vidal Enterprises. All transactions will be done through me on Mr. Vidal’s behalf.’
‘Will you give me some idea of the amount of credit involved?’
‘I have just closed our account with the American Express and settled their six monthly statement.’ He paused, watching me, then said, ‘The amount was one hundred and thirty thousand dollars.’
I stared at him, not believing I had heard aright. My startled expression seemed to give him immense satisfaction.
‘Does that mean the account would be around two hundred thousand in a year?’ I asked.
He flicked an invisible speck off his trouser knee.
‘Yes . . . give and take. Could be more.’
I drew in a long, slow breath. This was an account I was not going to lose.
‘You want the statements half yearly? That is our method of payment.’
I wondered how head office would react to this, but if the American Express were content to carry Mr. Henry Vidal for one hundred thousand for six months, the American Travel Services would probably do the same.
‘I’ll make immediate arrangements,’ I said. ‘There are naturally a few formalities . . .’ I let it die and looked at him.
‘Of course.’ He took from his wallet a folded sheet of paper.
‘Here are the necessary details. Mr. Vidal’s address. The names and addresses of his attorney, his bankers and his brokers.’ He put the paper on my desk. ‘You will find everything in order. In the meantime, send me a schedule of flights for the next week to Tokyo, Johannesburg and Hong Kong. Two passengers to a flight, single. Everything V.I.P. They are to be met at the various airports by private car, to be at their disposal for six days. You will arrange luxe hotel accommodation also for six days, American plan. As soon as I get your estimate of the cost, I will give you further details. All correspondence should be addressed to me at Mr. Vidal’s residence. Have you got all that?’
I said I had.
He rose to his feet.
‘Then good day to you.’
Without offering to shake hands, he left the office, swept past Sue without seeing her and made his way along the broad hotel corridor lined with boutiques, a drug store, a branch of Luce & Fremlin, the fashionable jewellers, Saks, Elizabeth Arden and the rest of them.
I watch
ed him out of sight, then beckoned to Sue who came in.
‘Who was that arrogant honor?’ she asked.
‘That was Vernon Dyer. We could be seeing a lot of him!’
Briefly, I explained.
Her eyes popped wide open.
‘Two hundred thousand?’
‘That’s what he said. Now to check.’ I scribbled on a pad, tore off the sheet and handed it to her. ‘Get an estimate for this lot Sue, with time schedules for next week.’ She nodded and returned to her desk.
I looked at my watch. The time was 12.35. Reaching for the telephone I called the American Express and asked for Joe Harkness, the district manager. We had already met and we liked each other. Although we were business rivals there was enough business for both agencies in Paradise City for us to remain relaxed and friendly with each other ‘Hi, Joe. This is Clay,’ I said when he came on the line.
‘How about eating a sandwich with me at the Howard Johnson?’
‘If I think it is what it is, it’s going to cost you more than a sandwich, buddy,’ Harkness said cheerfully.
‘Okay, you thief. Come on over and I’ll buy you a steak in the grill room.’
‘That’s my boy. See you in half an hour.’ and he hung up.
I studied the paper Dyer had given me.
Henry Vidal lived on Paradise Largo where only the very wealthy had residences. He had three banks: in Paradise City, in Miami and in New York. His attorney was Jason Shackman and his brokers were Trice, Seigler & Joseph.
I joined Sue at her desk.
‘Just having a word with Rhoda,’ I said, ‘then I’m lunching with Harkness in the grill room.’
She nodded.
‘I’ll have this schedule and the estimate ready after lunch.’
I walked down the hotel corridor to The Trendie Miss boutique where Rhoda worked as one of the sales assistants.
I found her alone, sitting on a stool, reading a woman’s magazine her favourite pastime.
Rhoda and I had been married now for just over two years. I had met her at the Statler Hilton. Boston at the time I was running the A.T.S. office there and she was assistant with The Trendie Miss boutique whose branches were in every major hotel in every major city. We had more or less drifted into marriage. She had a one room apartment in the high—rise where I lived. I got into the habit of driving her back from the hotel after work. There was a coffee shop in the complex and most nights we had dinner together there.
After a while, when we began sleeping together off and on, I picked up her check. She was young, attractive, gay and sexy. It was her idea we should get married. ‘We’ll economise,’ she pointed out. ‘I’ll save rent.’ She didn’t tell me what I would save. I was getting tired of living on my own. I thought maybe if I married her, I would forget about Valerie; a stupid hope but I wanted very badly to forget the girl who had jilted me some four years ago. So I married Rhoda. I then made a depressing discovery. Although pretty, immaculately dressed when at work, her make-up a work of art, Rhoda was at heart a slut. Any kind of housework was her idea of hell. She wouldn’t even make our bed. So I had to hire a woman to come in each day and we still ate our meals at the coffee shop.
When I got offered the Paradise City’s A.T.S. office in the Spanish Bay hotel, Rhoda managed a transfer to The Trendie Miss boutique in the same lush hotel. Our combined earnings enabled us to live well, join the Country Club and even save money, but for me our marriage was no more than a sexual convenience combined with a tolerant association: not what I was hoping for.
‘Rhoda,’ I said, pausing in the shop’s doorway, ‘I can’t lunch with you. I have a business date.’
She dragged her eyes from the magazine.
‘Huh?’
‘I have a business lunch,’ I said patiently. I was used to repeating most things to Rhoda when she was reading.
‘Oh? Well okay. See you at six, huh?’ She went back to her reading.
I took the elevator down to the grill room bar and ordered a Scotch on the rocks, something I seldom did at lunch time.
As Sam, the barman, fixed the drink, I said, ‘Ever heard of Mr. Henry Vidal?’
‘Vidal?’ He set the drink before me. ‘Can’t say I have, Mr. Burden.’
‘I’m told he is the most influential man in Florida.’
He grinned.
‘That depends who told you.’
Joe Harkness arrived five minutes later: a short thickest man, around my own age, whose merry eyes and cheerful grin belied a shrewd business brain.
‘That’s for me,’ he said pointing to my glass. ‘Celebrating, Clay?’
‘Maybe or recuperating.’ I signalled to Sam. ‘I’ve just had a visitor.’
‘I know. I had him too. Well, Clay, ol’ son, I’m sorry for you. When the s.o.b. told me he was closing the account with us, I jumped for joy.’
I stared at him.
‘Don’t try to con me, Joe.’
‘It’s a fact. I know it sounds cockeyed to be happy about losing an account worth two hundred thousand, but that’s what I am. I’ve had a gutful of Vidal and Dyer. I’ve had them in my hair for eighteen months . . . enough’s enough.’
‘Are you telling me the account is really worth two hundred thousand?’
‘Sure and it is creeping up. That was last year’s figure; could be more this year, but don’t imagine you have a bonanza: let me disillusion you.’ He drank half the whisky, then went on, ‘Vidal insists on six month’s credit. In other words he has the use of our money around one hundred thousand for six months. This he invests at seven percent: that gives him three thousand five hundred per six months which we lose, not having the money, before he has to pay us. He also insists on a five percent discount on all business over fifteen thousand per six months we handle for him and that gives him three thousand seven hundred and fifty which we also lose. So at the end of six months the one hundred thousand dollars in business we have handled for him only costs him ninety-two thousand seven hundred and fifty and we’re out seven thousand two hundred and fifty which in a full year comes to around fifteen thousand.’
I grinned at turn.
‘So what? You made the terms. The account is still big. What are you beefing about?’
‘Yeah . . . what am I beefing about? I’ll tell you. We wanted the account and we expected to pay for it. We reckoned even with a five percent discount and giving him six months’ credit we could still make a fair profit, but how wrong we were!’ He laid his hand on my arm. ‘We don’t want that steak to spoil, do we?’
I paid for the drinks and we went into the grill room.
‘Since this is on your expense account Clay, don’t let’s cut comers,’ Harkness said as he settled at the table. ‘I’ll take smoked salmon and french fries with the steak, and how about a nice bottle of something?’
I told the Maître d to make it two smoked salmons, two steaks and a bottle of California red.
‘Not Bordeaux?’ Harkness said, looking pained.
‘I haven’t got the account yet. Were you telling me you don’t make a profit out of Vidal?’
‘I won’t say that, but we’ll be lucky to make two percent which isn’t good enough if you add the headaches and by God! there are plenty.’
‘Such as?’
‘I lost the best secretary I ever had she quit after five months of Vernon. There is also the expense of keeping Vernon sweet. Then there was an assault case we had to settle out of court. Apart from these little things, Vernon is always belly aching. He’s never satisfied.’
The waiter placed plates of smoked salmon before us.
‘What assault case?’
Harkness grinned.
‘One of my reps, goaded beyond endurance, punched Vernon’s nose. Vernon sued. We settled for five thousand and lost a damn good rep.’
‘What’s this about keeping Vernon sweet?’
‘He never comes to the office. Always meets me at one of the most expensive restaurants when he wants to discuss busi
ness and he always leaves me to pick up the tab. I guess I must have spent well over four thousand dollars in eighteen months of feeding that s.o.b.’
We ate for a few minutes while I thought over what he had told me.
‘And Vidal? How do you react to him?’
‘Never seen him. All I know about him is he has a hell of a place on Paradise Largo, owns a yacht, a Rolls convertible, a pretty wife and lots and lots of the green stuff. I’ve never set eyes on him. He only circulates in the very best circles. Our Vernon does the slumming for him.’
‘How does Vidal make his money?’
Harkness finished his smoked salmon and sat back with a sigh of content.
‘He supplies demands.’
‘Come again. What does that mean?’
‘He has two hundred or so picked men working for him. They’re on the move all the time which explains the size of his travel account. From what I’m told, half these men are hunting for people who have a surplus of any damn thing: sugar, coffee, nickel, oil, ships . . . any damn thing. The other half are hunting for people who want these things. Vidal then gets the interested parties together, engineers the deal and picks up a fat commission. It’s a nice way to earn a living, only you have to know who wants what and who has what to sell. Vidal seems to have built up an expert organisation that really delivers. The other day I read in the paper that Libya has bought a number of obsolete destroyers from England. I’ll bet Vidal was behind that deal that has to be worth millions.’
I was impressed.
‘Dyer asked me for a schedule. . .’
Harkness held up his hand.
‘Don’t tell me. Let me guess. Tokyo, Jo’burg and Hong Kong. Right?’
I stared at him. ‘Go on . . . tell me more.’
‘That’s Vernon’s first ploy to see what kind of job you’ll do and how much you’re going to charge him. He pulled that one on me. I got out the schedule which was never used. When he means business, he’ll meet you for lunch. You’ll get nothing out of Vernon for free.’
‘Is the money safe?’
‘That’s the least of your worries. Vidal always pays up on the nail.’
‘Did you take up references?’
‘Oh, sure: all three banks and the brokers . . . immaculate. I’ll let you have photocopies if you want them.’
1975 - Believe This You'll Believe Anything Page 1