Lady, Here's Your Wreath (11 page)

     
     ON THE SHORT TRIP from Hughson's apartment to my place we didn't say a word. It was incredible to me that she was sitting by my side, willing to share my rooms with me, and I'd only known her for such a short time.
     When a girl shows such willingness, I'm usually sure that I'm on to a good thing. With Mardi it was different. There was something about her that built up a surrounding wall that protected her from any mean thoughts that might come her way. I'm not going to say that every guy wouldn't try to make a pass, but as far as I was concerned she got me like that.
     She sat quietly in the corner of the taxi and looked out of the window. Every now and then, when we passed a street light, I could see her clearly. With that perky little hat on her head and the fur collar tight at her throat, she looked swell.
     We got to my apartment and I paid off the taxi.
     Quietly we crept up the stairs. I was nervous of the guy opposite me, but as it was getting on for two o'clock I guessed he'd be asleep.
     We got into my apartment without disturbing any one. I shut the door, turned on the light and tossed my hat on the settee.
     “Whew!” I said. “I was sure gettin' the jitters comin' up the stairs.”
     She stood looking round the room. “But it's nice,” she said. “What a lot of books you have... and isn't that cute?”
     She went over to examine my miniature bar in the corner. We both kept our voices low like two conspirators. I wandered over and got behind the counter. “What would you like?” I said. “Suppose we have some rye and ginger... it's grand stuff to sleep on.”
     She again looked at me. I could see she was just a little doubtful of me: not scared, but not quite sure.
     I grinned at her. “Baby,” I said, “you don't have to worry about me. I know what you're thinkin' but you can forget it. With another dame, yes, but with you, no. I guess you would never have come here if you didn't want some help bad... well, I want to help, an' there won't be a cheque comin' in.”
     When I said that, she relaxed. She said: “Make it a very small rye and a lot of ginger.”
     While I was fixing the drinks, she went over and sat in the big armchair. It was one of those chairs that give to the floor. From where I was standing I could see the top of her hat and a lot of her legs. She opened the fur coat and draped it over the side of the chair.
     It was chilly, so I switched on the little electric stove I used between the periods when the steam heat was off and the evenings got cold.
     I came over with the drinks and gave her one of the glasses. Then, leaning against the mantelshelf, I nodded to her over the rim. “Safe landin',” I said, and we drank.
     She lay back in the armchair, holding the glass in one hand, and for a minute shut her eyes. I didn't hurry her. I guessed she wanted to get her facts together, and I was happy enough to stand and watch her.
     “I do
want your help,” she said at last, looking up at me.
     “All right. You're goin' to have it. If you're in a jam, you don't have to get scared. We'll work it out together.”
     “Why, Mr. Mason, are you doing this for me?”
     With an opening like that I wasn't going to act the village hick. “Because I'm crazy about you,” I said. “You're the first girl I've met that I can look at and talk to without wondering if I could take you for a ride. You're the first girl I've met who's got everything and yet... and yet... oh, hell! I can't explain it... but, you've got me jumping through hoops....”
     This outburst startled her all right. She tried to struggle out of the chair.
     “Now wait a minute,” I said hastily. “You asked me an' I've told you. That doesn't mean that you an' I aren't still on the level with each other. I don't want you to think I'm just putting on an act. I'm not. I'm being straight with you, so for the love of Mike don't start thinkin' up wrong angles to this.”
     She sank back into the chair. “Really, Mr. Mason...” she began.
     “Listen, could you make it 'Nick'? I won't insist if you don't feel you can, but it would tickle me to death.”
     She laughed at me. “You're crazy,” she said. “But you're nice. Thank you for saying what you have said. I want someone who will tell me what to do. I think I'm very lucky to find you.”
     Can you tie that? She thought she was lucky to find me! Now I ask you!
     When I got over it, I said: “Okay, now suppose you tell me what it's all about?”
     She handed the glass back to me. “I don't want any more.” Then she got out of the chair and took off her hat and coat. She was wearing a dark-green evening thing that fitted her like a snake-skin and spread out into a full skirt. I reckoned that cost plenty of money.
     “May I have a cigarette?”
     She could have had the moon. I lit it for her and she sat on the arm of the chair. “This is the craziest thing that's ever happened to me,” she said at last. “Perhaps I'd better start at the beginning. You remember the day when you took me out to lunch?”
     I nodded. Remember the day? Why, I'd got it tattooed on my brain.
     “When I got back, Mr. Spencer sent for me and was furious that I had gone out with you. I couldn't just understand what he was talking about. I guess I got mad too and told him I'd go out with whom I liked in my lunch-hours. So he fired me.”
     She paused and looked to see what I thought of that. I didn't think it was the right time to tell her that I knew this already. Maybe she might've got a little sore if she knew I'd been around making inquiries. So I made a few tutting noises and waggled my eyebrows up and down.
     “I was so mad I just walked straight out of the office and went home. The next morning I got a letter asking me to come in and see Mr. Spencer. I threw the letter away and took no notice. I spent the morning looking for another job. It surprised me the number of offers I got.”
     “Just a moment,” I put in. “You say you got a lot of offers. Why did that surprise you?”
     She shrugged a little. “You know how it is to-day. Jobs don't grow on the trees. But I really got some fantastic offers. It made me think there was something wrong about them, so I didn't close with any of them. I went home to think about them.”
     “Did you tell them that you'd been working with Mackenzie Fabrics?”
     “Of course.”
     “And were you trying for a job in the same trade?”
     She looked at me hard. “Yes,” she said at last.
     I grinned at her. “Then that ain't a mystery to me. Your Mackenzie Fabrics pay the biggest dividend in the trade. They have more dough than all the rest put together. Why, naturally those guys wanted you to work for them. They were hoping they'd learn how the business was run.”
     She looked a little blank, then she laughed. “I didn't think of it like that,” she confessed ruefully.
     “I bet you thought the boss was goin' to come the heavy?”
     “I'm afraid I did.” She coloured a little. I had to make a strong effort not to pat her.
     “All right,” I said, “forget it. You know now that you can get a swell job if you want to, so let's have the rest of it.”
     She shook her head. “I can't, that's the trouble. When I got back to my apartment I found Lee Curtis waiting for me. He's Spencer's right-hand man. We don't like him a lot in the office, and I was none too pleased to find him there. He told me that Spencer wanted me to come back. He was sorry that he'd shouted me out and would I forget it. Well, I was still sore, and I knew I could get something just as good, so I said no. Curtis started pressing me and finally persuaded me to come back and see Spencer.
     “The way Spencer went on made me suspicious. I didn't know what it was all about, but I didn't like the way he almost begged me to come back. I turned him down.” She shivered suddenly. “I can see him now. He sat behind his big desk, his face went white and he looked as if he could strangle me. 'You'll be sorry about this,' he said in a horrible, quiet voice. 'If I were you, I'd get out of town.'
     “He really terrified me and I didn't get to sleep that night. Then from that moment to this morning I've been watched. A tall, thin man, dressed in black with a black slouched hat pulled over his face, always turns up wherever I go. Two days of that decided me. I packed my things, gave notice to my landlady and prepared to leave town.”
     “Where were you going?” I put in.
     “I thought I'd go down to the coast. I wanted a vacation and had got some money put by, so I thought I'd go down there until they had forgotten about me.”
     I didn't want to scare her, but I thought they were not likely to forget her. I just said: “So what happened?”
     She twisted her hands in her lap, and a little frown settled in her eyes. “I thought I was being awfully smart,” she said. “I arranged with my landlady to get my stuff to the station, and I went off on a long ramble round town, taking the thin man along behind me. I thought I could give him the slip, get to the station and leave town without anyone knowing.” She smiled at me ruefully. It certainly did me a lot of good when that honey smiled at me.
     “I was all set when I ran into Curtis. He wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. He stuck to me like glue for the rest of the afternoon and then insisted on bringing me to Barry Hughson's party. That's all.”
     I shut my eyes and let my brain sort it out.
     “Why do you think he brought me to Hughson's and then walked out on me?”
     “Curtis think a lot of you?” I asked.
     She looked uncomfortable. “He has been rather pressing,” she admitted. “But then, he's like that with most girls.”
     I could think of a number of reasons why Curtis had taken her to Hughson's, but I wasn't going to tell her. Suppose Spencer had planned to get rid of her and Curtis knew about it? If this guy was a little soft on her, and I'm not blaming him if he was, he'd probably hang around with her to see that nothing happened. Once she was round at Hughson's place, he might think she was safe for a while. Then this other dame rings him up and he has to get out and leave her.
     It struck me Mardi wasn't any too safe running around at large. The point was to find out how much she knew.
     I said quietly, “Suppose I tell you all about this business, then maybe you can see where you fit in.”
     “Do I fit in anywhere?”
     I grinned. “Yeah, I'm afraid you do.” I lit another cigarette and got down to it. “I wantta put this to you just like you knew nothing about it. Maybe if I put it to you like that, you might get a slant on it. To start at the beginning. Larry Richmond was shot to death almost a year ago. This guy Was a rich playboy who called himself the President of the Mackenzie Fabrics. He was no more President than I am, but that don't matter for the moment. His chief job seemed to be peddling the stock of the company to his rich friends. Well, he succeeded, not because he was a good salesman, but because the shares were worth having. They kept climbing and everyone was happy. The Mackenzie Fabrics was a blind for some illegal racket, with a list of shareholders including the Police Commissioner and the Customs officials. Richmond was playin' a cagy hand. As everyone was gettin' a share under a strictly legal guise, no one was going to kick. Okay, that's the first set-up. The fact that Richmond never showed up at the office and just fooled around spending the dough points to Spencer being the guy who runs the racket.” I got up to give myself a drink.
     Mardi sat quite still. Her face was a little pale and she looked tired. It was getting on towards three o'clock, but I'd got to get this thing sorted out.
     “Then Richmond gets bumped. Very unfortunate this, because Spencer did the bumping. I guess he was getting tired of doing all the work and seeing Richmond doin' all the spending. If Spencer took the rap the lid would come off Mackenzie Fabrics all right. That wouldn't please the shareholders. I don't know, but I can guess what happened. They all got around and wagged their heads about this and came to the only conclusion. Someone had to be the fall-guy.
     “Now Richmond played around with the dames. As long as the dame was a looker, she was okay by him. He was fooling around with a floozie of the streets just before he was knocked off, and this bird usually ran around with a guy named Vessi, a real twelve-minute egg. What could be simpler? Vessi is the Fall-guy. They frame that bohunk so fast he's dizzy in the head. The cops frame him, Spencer frames him, the lawyers frame him, and the judge frames him. So he's framed. Just like that. To make matters safe an' sound, they get his moll to frame him.
     “This is where I come in. The case to me was just a sordid bit of shooting with no news angle for my particular stuff. One night a dame rings up and tells me she's sending round a ticket that'll let me in to see Vessi's execution. She tells me that Vessi will give me an angle on this business, and she will pay me ten grand to explode the frame. This dame is plenty steamed up. Before I can turn it down she rings off.
     “Okay, I'm the mug. I go along and see Vessi have a nose-full. Before he hands in his pail, he tells me that Spencer pulled the shootin'. I pass the news on to the mystery woman, who sends me five grand as an act of good faith. Before I can lay my hands on the dough, Blondie, that's Vessi's late moll, nips into my room and grabs it. I do a bit of Philo Vance stuff and track this moll to her lair. We have a few words and then in blows Katz. Now Katz is Spencer's bodyguard. A guy that walks around loaded up with shooting-irons and itching to use 'em. All he seems keen about is to find out who's been staking me to start trouble. This guy gets plenty tough so I tell him a story that's not quite true but which he falls for.
     “I then do some thinking and decide that I'm not interested. I'm a peace-lovin' guy an' this seems too exciting. Anyway, why the hell should I worry about Vessi? He was just a small-time crook. So when the dame comes on the 'phone again I tell her I'm through.
     “This dame interests me. I want to know who she is. I had a bad break the other day. I nearly ran into her but just missed it. I won't go into that now, but maybe I'll tell you about it later. The next excitement is you. I wanted to see a little more of you, and when I heard you were missing I got worried. I got still more worried when this dame rings up and hints that I'll find you in trouble at an old east-side wharf.
     “I go along there and have an argument with three guys, and instead of finding you I run into Blondie again. She also is on her way out of town. Then I run into you, and I guess that's where I stop.” I sat back with a sigh of relief.