1972 - You're Dead Without Money

by James Hadley Chase

  Although tense, he managed a wide grin as Judy got into the car.

  ‘How about the Low-Life Club, baby?’ he asked, shifting into gear, ‘then we can go to the Blue Heaven. Okay with you?’

  ‘Fine.’ She regarded him. ‘How are your plans working out, Superman? Any nearer to the stamps?’

  ‘Yeah. Let’s talk about that at the motel,’ Vin said. ‘Pleasure before business, huh?’

  ‘You mean you’ve found out where he keeps them?’

  ‘I didn’t say that, but I’m getting nearer.’

  ‘You sound cagey.’

  He grinned at her. ‘That makes two of us, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Is that girl who came to see my old man this morning hooked up with you?’

  Vin stiffened and gaped, then realizing she was watching him and he had given himself away, he said, ‘That’s right. You saw her then?’

  ‘I saw her. What’s she to you?’

  ‘Me? She’s just a kid . . . nothing.’

  ‘She didn’t look such a kid to me. Why did the old bastard see her?’

  ‘Okay,’ Vin said. ‘We’ll go to the motel first. I’ll tell you and you tell me.’

  ‘What’s that mean?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  He turned off the highway on to a side road that led to the motel.

  ‘Have you become a dog lover, Superman?’ she asked suddenly.

  Vin twisted his head to stare at her.

  ‘Dog lover?’ Then he stiffened as he saw she was holding the dog lead he had bought and which had been in his pocket.

  ‘Oh that . . .’ He felt sweat break out on his face.

  ‘Where’s the dog?’ she asked, staring at him.

  ‘I don’t take it around. I’ve left him in my flat.’

  ‘And little miss prissy looks after him?’

  ‘Nothing like that, baby. He’s an old dog. He likes being alone.’

  ‘What kind of dog?’

  Vin had no idea what kind of dogs there were since he never bothered about dogs. He shrugged.

  ‘Oh, a dog . . . big, floppy . . . a dog.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  Vin drew in a slow breath of exasperation.

  ‘How the hell . . . its name? Joe.’

  ‘That’s a funny name for a dog.’

  ‘That’s what I call him . . . you interested in dogs?’

  ‘No.’ Again she looked steadily at him as she handled the lead. ‘I’m just curious why you should have a dog lead in your pocket.’

  ‘I was late . . . didn’t want to keep you waiting. I guess I forgot it was in my pocket.’ Vin slowed to drive through the archway leading into the motel.

  ‘When I saw this hanging out of your pocket, I got the idea you might be kinky and wanted to beat me with it.’

  Vin pulled into a parking bay.

  ‘Would you like that?’

  ‘I’ve never tried it. Maybe.’

  He took the lead from her and stuffed it into his pocket.

  ‘I don’t dig for that stuff.’ His voice was husky. ‘Still, if you want to try . . .’

  She laughed.

  ‘I’ll survive without it. Check in, Superman. Let’s talk business. I’m hungry.’

  By now the fat Negro in charge of the office had come to know Vin. He had never seen Judy as she always remained in the car while Vin checked in. Seeing Vin come into the office, the Negro glanced through the window, saw the Jaguar and then grinned at Vin.

  ‘Evening, sir.’ He pushed the register towards Vin. ‘Nice seeing you again. I’ve got your usual cabin free.’

  ‘Fine.’ Vin signed the register as Steve Hamish. ‘We won’t be long, Jerry. Just a couple of hours.’

  ‘You stay as long or as short as you like, Mr. Hamish.’

  Vin gave him a five-dollar bill, then taking the key the Negro offered him, he returned to the Jaguar.

  ‘All set . . . the usual,’ he said, opening the car door.

  They walked together to the cabin and as soon as they were inside, Vin shot the bolt.

  Judy wandered over to the bed and sat on it.

  ‘So you sent the girl to find the stamps,’ she said. ‘Did she find them?’

  Vin went to the refrigerator. He felt in need of a drink.

  ‘Scotch?’

  ‘Yes . . . did she find them?’

  He poured the Scotch into two glasses, then turned.

  ‘You give and then I’ll give,’ he said and carried the drink over to her. ‘What’s the name of the buyer?’ He offered the glass and stood over her. ‘You tell me that and I’ll tell you if she found the stamps.’

  She took the glass and smiled up at him.

  ‘When you have the stamps and when you have shown them to me I’ll tell you the name of the buyer. We’ve gone over this routine before . . . remember? But in case you are suffering from amnesia, I take the stamps to the buyer, collect the money and pay you off . . . remember? We have also gone over that routine before.’

  Vin took a long pull at his glass. So he would have to take action, he thought. Well, okay, she couldn’t say she hadn’t asked for it. He would have to get her off her guard, then slam a punch at her jaw. He mustn’t make a mistake. He would have to knock her cold with the first punch or else the bitch would start yelling her head off.

  ‘She knows where he keeps them,’ he said, moving away from the bed. He sat down in a nearby chair. ‘I can get them. I’ll try tomorrow night.’

  ‘How did she do it?’

  He shrugged.

  ‘Don’t worry about that . . . she did it and I’ll get them tomorrow night.’

  She sipped her drink, regarding him over the rim of the glass.

  ‘Do you read gangster stories, Superman?’

  He gaped at her. She was always asking unexpected questions that threw him.

  ‘No . . . I watch TV. I don’t read books.’

  ‘I read a gangster book the other night,’ she said. ‘It was about a brainless moron who was hired to kill people. Guess how he killed them?’

  Vin put his glass down on the occasional table. Her steady, probing stare brought him out into a sweat.

  ‘Who the hell cares? Let’s talk business.’

  ‘I thought you might have read the book. It’s called, Dollars are for Dames’

  ‘I don’t read books.’

  ‘That’s right . . . you told me. Well, this moron carried a dog lead around with him. He strangled people with it.’

  Suddenly Vin could smell his own sweat A quick jump across to her, his fingers on her throat to throttle back her scream, then a slam on the jaw. Once he had got her gagged and bound, he would teach her to act tricky with him. He braced himself. One quick jump. He could hear yells and gunfire from the TV in the next cabin. Even if she did yell before he could shut her mouth, no one would pay any attention.

  ‘Are you married, Superman?’ Judy asked, nursing her drink.

  This question so surprised Vin’s slow working mind that he paused as he prepared himself for his spring forward.

  ‘Married?’ He gaped at her. ‘No . . . why the hell do you keep asking stupid questions?’

  ‘Are you sure you haven’t a jealous wife?’ Her eyes were mocking now.

  ‘What’s with it?’ He got to his feet and began to move casually towards her. ‘I haven’t a goddamn wife.’ Three more steps and he would be within range.

  ‘Then why are these two men following us?’ Judy asked. ‘I thought they were private dicks after divorce evidence.’

  Vin felt as if he had walked into a wall. A wave of cold blood rushed up his spine. It was only at this moment that he remembered Elliot’s warning to watch out that he wasn’t followed. He remembered that Joey and Cindy had said they had been tailed.

  ‘Following us?’ His voice was strangled. ‘What do you mean?’

  His expression of fear, vicious frustration and alarm seemed to amuse her. She giggled. ‘They followed us last night and they followed us tonight.�
�� She put her head on one side and looked cute. ‘Didn’t you spot them, Superman?’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he snarled.

  ‘I like having them around.’ She smiled at him. ‘They give me a feeling of security.’

  Vin drew in a slow breath. She was wise to him! The shock hit him and he found his legs were unsteady. He sat down abruptly. What an escape! Suppose he had knocked her off!

  Imagine carting her body from the cabin to the Jag and as he was putting her body in the boot, these two punks had descended on him. The thought made sweat run down his face.

  What an escape!

  ‘Have they upset your plans?’ she asked. ‘How sad! Did you really think I’m so dopey as to come here without protection? You and your dog lead!’ She put her glass down and throwing back her head, she began to laugh.

  Vin sat like a stricken bull. Finally he could stand the sound of her laughter no longer.

  ‘Shut up, you goddamn bitch!’ he bellowed She stopped laughing and taking a handkerchief from her bag, she mopped her eyes.

  ‘Superman! You’re the funniest thing alive. I knew you were stupid, but I didn’t believe you could be such a brainless moron as you are.’

  Vin half started from his chair, but, with an effort, he controlled the urge to grab her by her throat and strangle her.

  ‘Cut it out!’ he snarled. ‘You and me are partners. I know where the stamps are and you know where the buyer is. We both want the money. Do we go ahead with this or don’t we?’

  She regarded and her face became as hard as stone.

  ‘Yes . . . we go ahead.’ Her voice now had a cutting edge that startled Vin. ‘Now listen to me, you stinking creep. You planned to force me to give you the name of the buyer and then you planned to murder me and take all the money for yourself. You’re so obvious an idiot child could read the mess you call your mind! Make no mistake about this: you’re going to get the stamps and you’re going to give them to me! Don’t imagine, you stupid clown, you can get them and take off. I’ll know if they go and I’ll give the police a description of you and they’ll pick you up so fast you won’t know what’s hit you. From now on, Superduper, you’re going to do what I tell you to do. There’ll be no more cosy motels. When we meet, we meet with people around us so get the idea out of your moronic head that you’ll ever get a chance of murdering me. Understand?’

  Vin eyed her. The expression in her hard, cold eyes warned him to play it cool. This bitch was dangerous. If she put the cops on him . . . but dare she? She would get involved herself.

  ‘My father wouldn’t bring a charge against me, Superduper,’ Judy said. I know what you’re thinking. Just step out of turn and you’ll have the fuzz crawling over you like fleas on a dog.’

  Vin wiped the sweat off his face. He realized with sick frustration she was too goddamn smart for him to cope with.

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’ll get the stamps and then we’ll do a deal.’

  ‘It’s going to be a different kind of deal, little man,’ Judy said. ‘You will now get a hundred thousand and I’m having the rest Now get out! I’ll take a taxi home. When you have the stamps, telephone me and we’ll meet at the Plaza Beach. If the stamps go and I don’t hear from you, the fuzz will be after you. That’s a promise . . . now, get out!’

  Vin hesitated. This could be his last chance to be alone with her. Suppose she was bluffing? Suppose they hadn’t been tailed? Dare he take the risk? His fingers itched to fasten on her throat.

  Judy faced him, her eyes contemptuous.

  ‘Just try it, you stinker, and see where it gets you!’ she said in a fierce whisper. ‘Get out!’

  With a feeling of frustrated defeat and fury, Vin turned and stamped out of the cabin.

  * * *

  Soon after Vin had gone to meet Judy, for no reason at all Elliot’s non-existent foot began to ache. This pain always put Elliot in a bad mood and saying curtly he wanted to read, he went to his room, leaving Cindy and Joey to settle to television.

  Lying on his bed, Elliot again considered his future. He realized that Cindy had made an unexpected difference to his outlook. He now had the stamps. He was sure Vin planned to double-cross them all . . . so why not double-cross Vin? Why not take the stamps to Kendrick, try to get the price upped or if Kendrick wouldn’t play to accept the two hundred thousand dollars and with Cindy and Joey, take off, leaving Vin to whistle for his share?

  But Elliot realized after some thought that it wasn’t in him to double-cross anyone. He knew Cindy wouldn’t approve and if he did it he knew for the rest of his days he would have put himself on the same level as Vin and that was unthinkable.

  Vin had said he would get the name of the buyer from the Larrimore girl. After all, five hundred thousand was a lot better than two hundred thousand. Elliot found he had no qualms about double-crossing Kendrick. After all, Kendrick had swindled him in the past No, he had no qualms about Kendrick.

  He was still thinking, turning over in his mind whether - once he got the money - to join up with Cindy and Joey or whether to take off and have a hell of a splurge and then take sleeping pills, when he heard Vin come into the bungalow.

  He heard him say: ‘Where’s Elliot? Okay . . . you keep out of this! I’ve got to talk to him and that doesn’t include you two!’

  From the sound of Vin’s voice, Elliot guessed he was in a vicious rage. He swung his legs off the bed and sat up.

  Vin came into the small room, kicked the door shut and stood glaring at Elliot ‘She didn’t play?’ Elliot asked quietly.

  During the drive back to the bungalow, Vin had thought until his brain had creaked. He realized that Judy had outsmarted him. He had a feeling that once she got the stamps she would gyp him out of this hundred thousand she was offering and there would be nothing he could do about it She had said her father wouldn’t bring a charge against her but that didn’t mean the old punk wouldn’t bring a charge against him! With frustrated fury he finally accepted the bitter fact that he hadn’t the brains to cope with a situation like this. If anyone could cope with it it was this punk movie star and Vin decided he would have to put his cards - not all of them - on the table and be willing to accept part of the take and not all of it.

  ‘No . . . the bitch!’ Vin clenched and unclenched his hands. ‘She won’t tell me who the buyer is until I give her the stamps and she insists on dealing with the buyer herself!’

  Elliot began to rub his tin foot while he regarded Vin.

  ‘Then you owe me a thousand dollars,’ he said.

  Vin took the roll from his pocket and threw it on the bed.

  He watched Elliot count the money and transfer it to his pocket.

  ‘Don’t worry about her,’ Elliot said. ‘We’ll go for the lower figure. I’ve got the stamps.’

  Vin stood motionless, a glazed look coming into his eyes.

  ‘You’ve got them?’ he said hoarsely. ‘What the hell are you saying?’

  ‘Cindy got them.’

  Vin sat abruptly on a chair.

  ‘You mean when she saw Larrimore, she got at the stamps?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  Vin began to sweat.

  ‘When Larrimore misses them we’ll have a load of fuzz here!’

  Elliot shook his head.

  ‘For some reason I don’t understand, Larrimore was warned two months ago that he would be prosecuted if he had the stamps and kept them. He can’t complain to the police now unless he wants to risk a prosecution by the C.I.A.’

  ‘The . . . who?’

  ‘The C.I.A.’

  Vin gaped at him.

  ‘You mean the Government jerks who spy and play general hell?’

  Elliot nodded.

  ‘But what have they to do with the stamps?’

  ‘I’m trying to figure that one out itself.’

  Vin’s mind was in a whirl.

  ‘Where are the stamps?’

  ‘In a safe deposit box. I’ll see Kendrick tomorrow. Maybe I can
squeeze more money out of him. Forget Judy. If we are lucky we could get another fifty thousand out of Kendrick. As you didn’t get the stamps, your share goes down to fifty thousand and as Cindy got them, her share goes up to a hundred.’

  Vin drew in a snorting breath. He saw now that he would have to put his final card on the table. He hesitated for a long moment, but if Elliot sold the stamps for a mere two hundred and fifty, Vin knew he would have nightmares for the rest of his days.

  ‘Do you know how much these goddamn stamps are worth?’ he demanded, sitting forward and glaring at Elliot.

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes. That bitch told me. Larrimore was offered a million for them and you are talking of selling them for two hundred and fifty!’

  For a moment Elliot stared at Vin, then he shook his head.

  ‘She was conning you. No stamps are worth that kind of money.’

  ‘That letter I told you she had seen. She didn’t know I was interested in the stamps when she told me,’ Vin said feverishly. ‘That’s what they’re worth! A million! That’s why she won’t play. She wants all that money for herself!’

  Elliot felt a prickle run up his spine. Could it be possible? he asked himself. If he could lay his hands on that amount of money he could clear his debts and make a new start. A million!

  ‘I can’t believe it!’

  ‘I’m telling you,’ Vin said violently, ‘and I’ll tell you something else . . . this bitch told me she’d give the cops a description of me if she found the stamps missing. You hear? As soon as her goddamn father tells her Cindy has taken the stamps, we’ll have the fuzz in our laps!’

  Elliot waved this away.

  ‘She’ll never know they are missing,’ he said. ‘If Larrimore can’t tell the police they have gone, is it likely he would tell her who he dislikes?’

  Vin hadn’t thought of this. He relaxed a little.

  ‘You can forget her,’ Elliot went on. ‘There must be some other way to find out who this buyer is without getting involved with her. Kendrick knows. Larrimore knows. Neither of them would tell us. Who else would know?’