The Inheritors

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by Harold Robbins


  He stared, a disbelieving look on his face. “You’re not interested?”

  I shook my head. “Thank you. But it’s not for me.”

  “If it’s the money. I’m sure that can be—”

  “That’s not it.”

  “What is it then?” All the power and frustration were deep in his eyes.

  “You spoke about everything but the most important ingredient—”

  It was his turn to interrupt me. “Talent? I was just coming to that.”

  “No, Mr. Johnston, that’s not it either. Talent you can buy.” Blonde Girl was right. He was square. “The most important ingredient in our business is Fun. If you haven’t got that, you’ve got nothing. All you’re offering is just a job.”

  I started for the door. “Don’t worry about me, Mr. Johnston,” I said, “I can get a cab to the airport.”

  Blonde Girl caught me as I was going through the casino on my way to the front lobby. “Hey there, wait up for me!”

  I grinned at her. “Your boss send you?”

  “He just fired me,” she said.

  “You shouldn’t have blown your job because of me,” I said.

  “If you think I was going to let a lousy little thing like a job come between us, you’re crazy,” she said. “They just don’t make rigs like yours no more.”

  II

  The telephone call came as we started up the steps from the casino. A bellboy in the uniform of a major general looked at Blonde Girl and stopped me. “Mr. Gaunt?”

  “Yes.”

  “There’s a telephone call for you.” He led the way to the telephones around behind a bank of slot machines. He picked one up. “I have Mr. Gaunt on the line,” he said, giving me the telephone.

  I hit him with a dollar and took the phone.

  “Mr. Gaunt, you’re a hard man to find.” Diana’s very proper English answering-service voice held a sneaky edge of triumph.

  “Okay,” I said. “How’d you do it this time?”

  “Easy,” she said smugly. “The police found your car for me at the Burbank parking lot. Air-traffic control gave me your flight and destination.”

  “That’s another hundred I owe you.” We had a thing. Each time she tracked me down without my leaving word where I would be, she got a hundred dollars. Each time she missed I would get a month’s free service. I had yet to collect.

  “It seemed serious or I wouldn’t bother you,” she said. “A Samuel Benjamin, Junior, called collect from San Francisco. He asked for Uncle Steve and said it was important.”

  “Give me his number. I’ll call him back.”

  “He was in a pay booth and said he couldn’t stay there but that he would call again in half an hour. That is exactly twenty minutes from now.”

  “All right, when he calls, relay it through your switchboard.”

  “Any special room number?”

  “No,” I said. “Just have them page me at the crap table.”

  I put down the telephone and left the booth. Blonde Girl had fallen in love with a slot. “It’s about ready to come,” she said, her fingers caressing the level. “I can tell.”

  It came up a grapefruit, orange, and lemon. “Try sucking it,” I said. I walked around the slots and there they were. Green table magic, with people stacked like sardines. With a money machine like this going for him, Johnston had to have rocks in his head to want the picture business.

  I pushed my way up to the table just as a shooter sevened out. The stickman pulled in the dice and pushed them back with two more sets added for choice.

  I looked around the table but nobody seemed to be reaching. They all had the look of players who didn’t trust their luck. I picked up a set and rolled them between the palms of my hands to get the feel. They felt good. I nodded and laid a hundred on the pass line and covered with a hundred on any craps.

  “New lucky shooter,” the stickman called in a hoarse voice, pulling back the other dice. “Get your bets down. New shooter coming out.”

  I crapped out twice in a row, letting my cover bet ride. Third time I picked up the dice, I switched the bets. At six to one on any craps, I had forty-two hundred. I left two hundred on the any craps and went for two grand on the pass line. The other two thousand was in the box in front of me.

  I naturaled twice, doubling, then came up with the ten point. I bought all the numbers and went on a wild ride. I needed ten pairs of hands to pick them up and lay them down and lost all track of time. I looked up in surprise when the major general came back with the page.

  “Your call’s come through,” he said.

  I nodded and picked up the dice. I rubbed them once and threw them. They snapped against the backboard and rolled over to a stop. I didn’t have to look to know I sevened out. That’s the way it is with dice. They were worse than girls. Take your attention away from them for even a moment and they went cold on you.

  I picked up the chips from the box in front of me. When I turned around Blonde Girl was standing there. I gave her the chips. “Cash them in for me.”

  I followed the major general to the telephone. “Sorry, Mr. Gaunt,” he apologized as he gave me the phone.

  This time I laid a hundred on him. “No harm done,” I said. “You probably saved me a fortune.”

  He went away smiling and I turned into the phone. “Okay, Diana,” I said.

  “I have Mr. Benjamin on the line for you.”

  “Good. Put him on. But stay on the line with me,” I said. “I might need you for follow-through.”

  “Righto, Mr. Gaunt.”

  There was a click, then a faint hum. Over the hum came Junior’s voice. “Uncle Steve?”

  “Yes, Junior,” I said.

  “I’m in San Francisco.”

  “I know.”

  “I got big trouble,” he said.

  “What happened?”

  “I’m up here with a couple of friends.” His voice began to tremble. “I went out for a few minutes this morning, when I came back there was fuzz all over the place. They were pushing everybody into the wagon. Afterward two of the fuzz in plainclothes hung around. I got a hunch they were waiting for me, so I ducked around the corner.”

  “What was the bust for?” I asked.

  “The usual thing,” he said. “Every now and then, the fuzz gets a bug up their ass. But there was no reason for them to grab us. We were nice and quiet and never made no trouble.”

  “Was there anything in the apartment?”

  “Not much,” he said. “We were all pretty low on dough. Some pot, a little speed, but no acid.”

  “No hard stuff?”

  “No shit, no coke, Uncle Steve,” he said. “We’re all straight kids.”

  “In whose name was the apartment?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “It was empty, so we just moved in. Every day a guy came around and we slipped him a few bucks and he went away.”

  “You don’t sound in any trouble to me, Junior,” I said. “All you gotta do is shake that town for a while. They can’t be after you. There’s no records.”

  “I can’t go like this,” he said.

  “If you need money, I’ll shoot some up to you.”

  “It’s not that.” He hesitated. “There’s a girl. I’m worried about her.”

  I knew about the girl. His father had told me that morning. But I wanted him to tell me. “Yes?”

  “You see, she’s pregnant. And she’s a kid herself,” he said.

  “Your baby?”

  “No,” he said. “But she was such a sweet kid that we all kind of adopted her. We wouldn’t even let her smoke or go on a trip.”

  “Then what are you worried about?” I asked. “They’ll take good care of her. Better than you have.”

  “Maybe,” he said. “But will they love her?”

  I was silent.

  “She’s a very sensitive kid,” he said. “She needs to be loved, to know that someone cares. That’s how she wound up like she did.

  I was s
till silent.

  “I can’t leave until I know she’s all right,” he said. “You know, kind of let her know that I didn’t run out on her like everyone else.” He took a deep breath. “If I went up to Juvenile to see her alone, the way I am, they’d put the arm on me right away. I thought, maybe—if you had the time—”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll come up. Where are you now?”

  “In a telephone booth on North Beach,” he said.

  “Got any money on you?”

  “About six bits.

  “Go over to the KSFS-TV offices on Van Ness across the street from the Jack Tar Hotel and ask for Jane Kardin in the legal department. By the time you get there she will be expecting you. Tell her what you told me and have her check out where they took your friend and arrange a visit. Wait there in her office for me; I’ll be up on the next plane from Vegas.

  His voice was suddenly very young. “Thanks, Uncle Steve. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” He hesitated a moment. “You think your friend would spring for a sandwich? I haven’t had anything to eat all day.”

  He was still a kid. “Sure. Go across the street to Tommy’s Place. I’ll look in there for you before I go up to the offices. Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye, Uncle Steve.” He clicked off and I heard Diana come on.

  “There’s a Western Airlines flight leaving for San Francisco from McCarran in twenty minutes,” she said. “I made a reservation for you while you were talking.”

  “Good girl. Now call Jane Kardin at Sinclair Broadcasting KSFS and tell her I’m coming up and to look after the kid until I get there.”

  “Will do, Mr. Gaunt,” she said. “‘Bye, now.”

  Blonde Girl was waiting when I came out of the booth, the money in her hand. “What’s up?” she asked.

  “What was Johnston paying you?”

  “Five hundred a week and expenses,” she said.

  “How much you got there?” I asked, indicating the money in her hand.

  “Twenty thousand three hundred,” she said, handing it to me.

  I took the money and counted off ten thousand and gave it back to her. I stuck the rest in my pocket. “That’s for you.”

  She looked at me with big eyes. “What’s it for?”

  “Severance pay,” I said, leaving her there in the casino. I went out and got into a cab. She came to the door just as the cab pulled away. She waved and blew me a kiss.

  I blew a kiss back to her and by the time the cab pulled out onto the Strip, she had already gone back inside.

  The way the good-bye rate for girls was climbing for me since this morning, if I wound up with one tonight I would have to keep her.

  ***

  Los Angeles had been hot and muggy, Las Vegas, sun-bright and dry. San Francisco was wet and clammy. I shivered going into the airport from the plane. Blue jeans and a pullover weren’t enough.

  Jane Kardin was waiting at the ramp with a raincoat. I slipped into it gratefully. “Makes me wish I were still your boss, Lawyer Girl. So I could give you a raise for this.”

  “Since you’re not my boss anymore, you can kiss me hello.”

  Her lips were warm and sweet. I looked at her. “I had almost forgotten how good it was.”

  She smiled. “I’ve got my car outside.”

  I looked around as we began to walk. “What did you do with the kid?”

  “I left him at Tommy’s Place eating his way out from under a mountain of knockwurst.”

  It turned into real rain by the time we got into the car. The windshield wipers began to click as we moved out.

  “What did you find out about the girl?” I asked.

  “She’s gone.”

  “Gone?” I echoed.

  She nodded without taking her eyes off the road. “By the time I tracked her down at Juvenile, her parents had already come and picked her up.”

  “What about Junior?” I asked. “He must have been upset.”

  “I thought he looked relieved,” she said flatly. “After all, he is a man.”

  She was entitled to that one. I hadn’t exactly been the gentlest of people with her. We were swinging pretty good. But that was almost four years ago. Before I left Sinclair and she wasn’t a lawyer then. She was a model.

  She came out of the Ford Agency in New York. I remember the way she had walked into El Morocco the first time I saw her. She had calm eyes and stood there looking around.

  It was a premiere party and I went right up to her. “Can I help you, Miss—?”

  The expression in her eyes didn’t change. “I’m looking for John Stafford, the director,” she said.

  I hadn’t seen him and I wouldn’t know him if I did. “He just left,” I said promptly, taking her arm. “Let me get you a drink.”

  She looked around without moving, then back at me. “No, thank you,” she said coolly. “I don’t see anyone I recognize. And I don’t like staying at parties where I don’t know anyone.”

  “I’m Stephen Gaunt,” I said. “And now you have no excuse.”

  She laughed. “They told me about New York men.”

  By this time we were moving. I made a signal and the maître d’ fielded it. “Your table is just over here, Mr. Gaunt.”

  “You’re from out of town?” I asked as we sat down.

  “San Francisco,” she said. She looked up at the maître d’. “Bourbon and ginger.”

  She liked sweet drinks, sweet talk, and sweet men. After about a week she decided I wanted too much, I wasn’t sweet enough.

  “You’re looking to get married,” I said.

  “That’s right. Anything wrong in it?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “But it’s not for you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re honest at least.”

  “Anything else I can do for you?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  I looked at her, thinking here it came. They were all alike. She surprised me.

  “I want a job.”

  “I’ll send you over to the head of casting,” I replied.

  “Not that kind of a job.”

  “What kind of a job?”

  “I just received word from home that I was admitted to the bar,” she said.

  I looked at her. “You’re a lawyer?”

  She nodded. “Modeling just helped pay the way. Now I want to work at it.”

  “You make more money as a model.”

  “So?”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll send you in to see the head of legal.”

  “I don’t want to work in New York,” she said. “I don’t like it here. I want to work in San Francisco.”

  “There’s more opportunity here.”

  “But I have family there. And friends. And I’d be much happier. Here everything is a turn-on.”

  Our station in San Francisco needed an attorney. She turned out to be good at it too. The proof was that she kept her job, even got a promotion after I had left.

  She found a parking place next to the restaurant. Samuel was sitting behind a schooner of beer. “Hey, Uncle Steve, you know they got ninety-one kinds of beer here?”

  “Wipe the foam off your whiskers and kiss me,” I said. “It’s been a long wet trip.”

  “I’m sorry, man,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t know she was goin’ to hang us up like that. I wouldn’t have bugged you.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, sliding into the seat opposite him. “I had nothing better to do. Anyway I’ve been lookin’ for an excuse to come up here and see Lawyer Girl for the longest time.”

  “Too much,” said Lawyer Girl. “I’d better be going now.”

  “No you don’t,” I said, pulling her down onto the seat beside me. “We don’t know whether we’re out of trouble yet.”

  Samuel looked at her, then at me. He shook his head. “I should have known it.”

  “Know what?” I asked.

  “You had to come up with the best lookin’ legal brai
n in the world.”

  We all laughed as the waitress came to the table. “Beer all around,” I said.

  “No,” Lawyer Girl interrupted. “Bourbon and ginger for me.”

  “I gotta go,” he said, sliding out of his seat. “Be right back.”

  The waitress came with the drinks. I hoisted my glass. “Ciao.”

  “You finally made it.”

  I looked at her.

  “You know I used to have little-girl dreams about you. That you would come up here someday and you’d be different somehow…” Her voice trailed off.

  “I am different,” I said. “I’m not your boss anymore.”

  She shook her head. “You’re still the same. You belong. Wherever you are is where it’s at.” She hesitated. “What made you think of me? I thought that by now you had forgotten.”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Or is it that you have a file cabinet somewhere in the back of your head and in every drawer there is a listing of girls in different towns that you can call on for various services? Is that it, Steve; am I filed under legal?”

  “Okay, Jane,” I said. “Did you get your money’s worth?”

  She flushed. “I apologize.”

  Samuel came back with a peculiar look in his eyes. He sat down easily and picked up his glass of beer.

  “If you’re goin’ to turn on in public toilets,” I said, “shave. The smell of pot sticks to your beard.”

  “I just used half a joint,” he said defensively. “I was getting a little uptight.”

  “What for?” I asked. “You’re out clean.”

  “You,” he said. “Suddenly I got scared. I brought you up here on a jerkoff. You must think I’m pretty stupid.”

  “I know better than that. You didn’t get me up here just because of the girl.”

  He looked at Lawyer Girl. She started to get up.

  “Maybe I’d better go. You might have something personal to talk about.”

  I put my arm out to stop here. “You’re in this. You didn’t ask for it. You stay.” I looked at him. “That right, Samuel?”

  He nodded. She sank back into her chair.

  “Okay, Samuel,” I said. “Get it off.”

  He took a deep breath. “My father was up here the other day.”

  “So?”

 

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