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Authors: James Hadley Chase

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BOOK: 1974 - So What Happens to Me
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“I’ll do that.”

As he moved to the door, he paused.

“Mr. Crane, you haven’t asked any questions as to why we need this aircraft and I like that. I am aware that O’Cassidy has talked to you and perhaps he has given you his views. Dismiss anything he has told you from your mind. There should be no talk: is that understood?”

Keeping my face wooden, I said. “That’s okay with me.”

“I hope it is Mr. Crane,” then he led me through the rain to the helicopter.

Because of what is known as a technical hitch, my flight back to Paradise City was delayed for two hours. I didn’t reach the City until 20.25. I collected the Alfa I had left in the airport garage, then drove down to the waterfront. I decided not to return to my cabin this night. I didn’t want to run into Pam while Bernie was away. I parked the Alfa and booked in at a modest hotel.

After a quick shower. I wandered out to find a meal. I picked on a small, but smart looking seafood restaurant, ordered curried prawns, then read a newspaper while I waited. I had just finished the prawns and was waiting for coffee when Mrs. Victoria Essex, accompanied by Wes Jackson, came in.

She saw me at once and smiled. Jackson also went through the grimace he called a smile. She started towards me so I stood up.

She looked marvellous in a simple white dress that must have cost the earth and there was that look in the big violet eyes that immediately turned me on.

“Why, Mr. Crane, I thought I had lost you.” she said. “Where have you been?”

“Around and about,” I said. “Glad to see you’re no worse for your fall.”

“I’m fine now.” She was staring at me, then she turned around and looked at Jackson as if seeing him for the first time.

She flicked her fingers at him. “All right, Jackson, don’t wait.”

“Yes, Mrs. Essex,” and he took his bulk out of the restaurant.

“May I join you?” she asked.

I pulled out a chair and she sat down. I went back to my chair.

The waiter came and she ordered coffee.

“I wanted you to ride with me this morning. They told me you had left.” Her big violet eyes moved over me. “Had you?”

“That’s right. I’ve been in Mexico for the past two days. An airline offered me a job. I thought I’d take a look at it.”

“Mexico? You wouldn’t want to live in that hole, would you?”

“I guess not.”

“Then why did you go?”

“A free trip: I was getting bored here.”

Her coffee arrived.

“God! Yes! I can understand that! I get bored too.” She stirred her coffee. “My husband’s jealous. When he goes on a trip. I either have to stay home or if I want to go out I have to have Jackson with me. He’s supposed to be my chaperon and spy.”

“Supposed to be?”

She smiled, sipped her coffee, then said, “He’s more scared of me than my husband.”

I finished my coffee.

“Have you anything to do tonight?” she asked.

“Not a thing.”

“Have you a car?”

“Just across the road.”

“I’ll take you to a place. We can have fun.”

“It’s only a two-seater. There would be no room for Jackson.”

She laughed.

“Don’t worry about him. Let’s go.”

“Don’t you want to eat?”

“I only eat when I’m bored.” She looked directly at me and there was that thing again in her eyes. “I’m not bored now.”

“Just a moment. I understand Mr. Essex is due back tonight.”

“Are you scared of him?”

“I’m not scared of anyone, but I thought I’d mention it.”

“I had a telex this afternoon. He’s staying over at L.A and won’t be back until tomorrow.”

I got to my feet, paid the check and smiled at her.

“So what are we waiting for?”

We went out into the moonlit night. There was a Mercedes parked under a street light with Wes Jackson at the wheel. She went over to him spoke to him and he nodded. He drove away.

Together, we walked to the Alfa and she slid under the wheel.

“I’ll take you,” she said.

I got in beside her and she drove away from the waterfront: expert, fast driving, perfect control and I sat back and enjoyed being driven.

We got onto the hill road and we drove fast for three or four miles, then she turned up a dirt road and finally pulled up outside a knotty pine cabin.

“This is my retreat,” she said, sliding out of the car, “where I exercise my hobbies.”

As she was unlocking the door. I remembered what Bernie had said about Harry Erskine: Mrs. Essex dangled herself and he fell for it and then she cut him down to size That’s her speciality: turning it on, making a guy think he’s going to get into her bed, then telling him he isn’t.

The set-up looked good, but she could just be dangling herself I decided to play it cool. She would have to make all the advances.

I followed her into a large, comfortably furnished room and I saw a big divan across by the picture window.

“Pretty nice,” I said. “What are your bobbies?”

“I paint: I’m not bad.” She walked over to a cocktail cabinet “A whisky?”

“Thanks.”

She made two drinks, handed me one and dropped down into a lounging chair. On the arm of the chair was a number of buttons. She pressed one and then sipped her drink. Soft music came from concealed speakers.

“That’s neat,” I said and sat on the arm of another lounging chair. “What it is to be rich.”

“Do you want to be rich?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“It has its disadvantages.”

“Such as?”

She shrugged.

“Oh, boredom. When you have everything, you also have boredom.”

“You would know . . . I wouldn’t, I said.

She set down her glass, smiled and stood up.

“Let’s dance.”

She looked very inviting as she stood there: too inviting.

I sat where I was, looking at her.

“Mrs. Essex” I said quietly, “I have some inside information about you and I don’t want to take advantage of you. You should have some inside information about me.”

Her smile slipped away and the violet eyes became hard.

“What do you mean?”

“I have been told you are a copper plated bitch. What you don’t know is I am a copper plated bastard. It’s only fair for you to know this. You see, Mrs. Essex, although I think you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen, the most desirable, the sexiest, no matter how good you look, I don’t tease. You either get out of the dress and get on the divan and give out or I get out. Is that plain enough for you?”

Her eyes opened wide.

“How dare you talk to me like that!”

“That’s what I thought. Well. I’ll be running along. See you,” and I started towards the door.

She sprang at me grabbed my arm, swung me around and slapped my face.

“You devil!”

I caught her up, gave her a stinging slap on her bottom, then tossed her onto the divan.

“Get out of that dress” I said, standing over her, “or do you want me to tear it of?”

“You hurt me!”

“Okay, so I tear it off”

“No! I have to have something to go home in!”

I laughed.

“So go ahead and get out of it.”

Her eyes glittering, her breasts heaving, she slid out of the dress.

 

***

 

I got to the cafe-bar twenty minutes before the others were due. I ordered a coke and sat in the shade on the veranda and waited.

While I waited, I thought about Mrs. Victoria Essex I knew she would be good, and that’s what she was. She acted like a woman who had been sexually starved most of her life. But why go into details? When it was finally over, she had got of the divan, had taken a shower while I lay there feeling as if I had been hit by a truck.

She had dressed while I still lay there.

“Lock up,” she said. “I have a car. Put the key under the mat,” and she was gone.

I waited until I heard her car drive away, then I dressed, locked up put the key under the mat and drove back to the hotel.

Well, I told myself you have laid one of the richest women in the world: what happens next? Would she tell Wes Jackson to get rid of me or did she want another session? It was a matter of waiting and seeing.

Olson’s Buick came down the sandy road and pulled up.

He, Pam and Erskine got out and joined me.

“Good trip?” I asked as the girl served cokes.

“The usual,” Bernie shrugged. “The boss got held up. We’ve only just got in.”

I didn’t tell him I knew this.

When the girl had gone, I said, “It looks all right. I’ve checked the runway. No problem. It’s raining like hell out there and the fly in could be tricky.”

I went on to give him a detailed description of my reception, how I had met O’Cassidy and what he had told me.

“I think he’s right: this is a political thing,” I concluded. “Not that it matters to us. The thing that does matter is to be sure Kendrick pays up. We don’t shift the kite until we get that bank receipt.”

“How do you react now about us getting knocked of once we deliver?” Erskine asked.

“I think if we do what we’re told and don’t make reasons for them to turn rough, we’ll be okay.” I had thought about this a lot. “You see, you two have to train their pilots. As we’ve delivered the kite the agreement is we get the full payment. So we’ll probably have to stay at the airfield for a couple of weeks while the pilots are being trained. It seems to me once we have done that, fulfilled all obligations, there is no reason for them to get rid of us. They can’t get their hands on the money once it has been paid into the bank so what’s the point in knocking us of?”

Erskine thought about this, then nodded.

“But. . .” I paused to look directly at Bernie, “Pam doesn’t fly with us.”

He stiffened, but before he could say anything, Pam snapped, “I’d like to see you stop me!”

I ignored her, looking directly at Bernie.

“The airfield is staffed with thugs, Bernie. There are no women there. With you two busy training their pilots, Pam could run into trouble. I’m not taking the responsibility of looking after her. That’s strictly out. If one of those greasers makes a pass at her, we could have the trouble I want to avoid. So she doesn’t come with us. She takes a flight to Merida and stays at a hotel and waits for us, but she doesn’t come with us on the flight. Can you see that?”

“Bernie!” Pam’s voice was shrill. “You’re not listening to this jerk, are you? I’m coming with you!”

“I guess I’d better think about this Jack,” Bernie said uneasily.

“There’s nothing to think about. She doesn’t fly with us. I’ve seen these thugs . . . you haven’t. The moment they set eyes on her, they’ll come after her and then we’ll have real trouble.”

“Makes sense.” Erskine said “Why look for trouble?”

Bernie hesitated, then reluctantly nodded.

“Yes. Okay, she doesn’t come with us.”

“And what am I supposed to do? Sit in some stinking hotel and wait? Suppose you three decide to ditch me! I’d look a mug. wouldn’t I?” Pam said viciously. “I’m coming with you!”

I shoved back my chair and stood up.

“Want a lift back?” I asked Erskine.

“Sure.”

“Bernie, this is your problem: she’s your woman. You fix it.”

I walked down the steps with Erskine at my side to the Alfa.

 

 

SIX

 

I
was trying to make up my mind what I was going to do with myself on this Monday morning when the telephone bell rang. I was hoping the call would be from Mrs. Essex suggesting a ride, but it was Bernie.

“Hi! Jack! Look, I’ve had a call from Mr. Essex Something’s cooking. Will you stick around? From what Jackson tells me the Condor is ahead of time. As soon as I get back, I’ll drop in.”

“I’ll be here,” I said and he hung up.

The time was 9.47. I was feeling a little limp. Tim and I had done a movie, then some heavy drinking the previous night.

I had got from him that the runway would be finished by the end of the week. He was in a merry mood as he was five weeks ahead of schedule. He told me he would get a big bonus for getting the job done so quickly.

I ordered breakfast and when I had eaten it, I turned on the T.V. and watched an old western. It passed a couple of hours, then I shaved, showered and dressed.

Bernie showed up around 13.00. He looked like a man with a load on his back. Shutting the door, he dropped into a chair.

While I was fixing him a drink I said, “Did you talk sense into Pam?”

“Yes.” He took the drink. “You’re right Jack. I hadn’t thought of that angle. A woman out in the jungle could really foul up this operation.” He drank, blew out his cheeks. “I had a time. God! Women!”

“What’s cooking with Essex?” I wasn’t interested in his domestic problems.

“I’ve got instructions to fly him to Paris tomorrow. The new kite is ready for delivery. So I drop him in Paris, fly back, sell the old kite, take delivery of the new one, go on the course and be ready to collect him from Kennedy when he returns. He flies back from Paris by Pan-Am.”

“Is Mrs. Essex going with him?”

“Yes.” He looked sharply at me. “Why the interest?”

“I want to know where everyone is. And Pam?”

“The airfield closes down for four weeks. Everyone except Harry, Jean and me go of on vacation. Pam is going to stay with her married sister until the green light goes up, then she flies to Merida and waits for us.”

“So we have four weeks?”

“That’s it. I’ve talked to Jackson about you. I’ve told him I need you to handle the servicing of the Condor. So he talked to Mr. Essex and it’s fixed. You’re now on the payroll from today at thirty thousand. You’ll have to see Macklin, the staff manager, who will sign you on and fix everything. Officially, we start work in four weeks’ time, but while you and the rest of them are on vacation, you get paid.”

“I like that.” I paused, then went on, “Can you give me a date when you fly in the new kite?”

“October 3rd unless the tests don’t jell.”

This was September 4th.

“When we hijack this kite, Bernie, we need to be armed. I’m not taking any chances with these greasers. Each of us should have a machine pistol and at least one automatic rifle.”

BOOK: 1974 - So What Happens to Me
9.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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