“They cut it fifty per cent,” she said, “but that’s one better than forty-nine. Don’t they wear shoes where you come from?”
“What are shoes?” Cellini accepted the drink. “Thanks. Who are you?”
“Ivy Collins. They put cigarettes out on me. Do you think I’m better off dead?”
“Maybe. I couldn’t say.”
Ivy Collins opened the wrapper she wore and modeled the black negligee underneath.
“You’re better off this way,” said Cellini sincerely. “Who claims otherwise?”
“That Banks dame.” Moodily, Ivy stirred her drink. “I bet she even rides her broom sidesaddle.”
“Do you know someone called Henry Fields around here?”
“What’s it to you?” snapped Ivy Collins.
“Very little,” said Cellini, taken aback. “I heard he’s here and I happen to know him.”
“Oh. I thought you might be a detective on something.” She grinned and Cellini suddenly realized that she was as drunk as one can possibly be and still remain vertical.
“Would my being a detective be good or bad?”
“Bad. It would mean that Henry was trying to pin things on me with my boy-friend. If you get what I mean,” she finished lamely.
“And you like your boy-friend?” Cellini prompted.
“I can’t stand him. He ought to get together with Banks. He says that women who drink are the bane of humanity. That’s why he sends me here every few months.”
“Then how come he’s your boy-friend?”
“He loves me for what I am, not for what I drink. And I love him for his money. Sometimes I think it would be better to get back to the runway.”
The pantry door swung open and Tom Sprigley entered.
“Ah, so you’ve met our star boarder, Smith. I don’t blame you for ducking the pinochle.”
“I’m looking for someone called Henry Fields. Know him?”
“Good friend of mine, though I don’t usually go for the worrying kind”
Ivy finished mixing three more drinks and distributed the glasses. She raised hers for a toast.
“Here’s to the next one to die.”
Cellini said: “If he’s such a good friend, you might tell me where his room is.”
“Sixth door down the hall to the right.”
The ceiling light suddenly blinked off and on three times in rapid succession.
“Oh, oh,” said Ivy. “I guess they want us out of here.”
Cellini stopped by the doorway. “What did you mean about Henry Fields being the worrying kind?”
“He’s got troubles,” Sprigley replied, “and he never lets you forget them. But,” he added slyly, “why don’t you ask Ivy? She knows him much better than I do.”
The door to Henry Fields’ room was open and Cellini Smith eased himself inside and shut it behind him.
A voice said: “Drop your gun and raise your hands.”
“I haven’t got a gun, my hands are raised and my name is Cellini Smith.”
“You’re lying!” snapped the testy voice from the blackness of the room. “Cellini Smith was here yesterday. I’ll give you three seconds to get out before I shoot.”
Cellini looked at the weak shaft of moonlight forcing itself through the window. The odds on the owner of the voice missing him in that darkness were worth taking. Hoping that this room was identical with his, Cellini suddenly grabbed for the wall switch and simultaneously dropped to the floor.
There was no explosion of any bullet in the light that flooded the room. Only silence, as Cellini slowly stood up. From a photograph he had seen, he recognized the man who was huddled under the bedclothes as Henry Fields.
Cellini sat down on a chair beside the bed and lit a cigarette. He said: “Never give anyone three seconds. Especially if you haven’t got a gun.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m here to find out what you want,” Cellini countered. He took an envelope from his pocket and tossed it on the bed.
Fields picked up the envelope and fumbled for the letter inside. “How did you get this?”
“From you through the mail with a hundred-dollar check which I’ve already cashed.”
Doubt appeared on Fields’ face. “If you’re Smith, who was the other person?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“But his business card—”
“I’m not carrying identification because I was afraid I might be searched but for two bucks I can get cards printed saying I’m the Andrews Sisters. How did this other guy get in here?”
“As a visitor. They don’t let me have any so he came ostensibly to visit a girl I know here and I managed to get a few minutes alone with him.”
“I suppose you told him your whole story.”
“Of course.”
“Well, you might as well repeat it to me now.”
Fields regarded him with baleful eyes. “I’m still not sure he wasn’t Cellini Smith and that you’re not the phony.”
There followed a strained silence and then Cellini said: “Think it over like a bright business executive, Fields, and tell me what earthly difference it makes whether or not I’m a phony.”
“Smith, even if you’re no fake I don’t like your attitude.”
“It’ll have to do till the war’s over. Apparently you’re no intellectual giant, Fields, so listen carefully while I try to explain. You’re in some sort of jam and you wrote one Cellini Smith to do something for you. Is that right?”
Henry Fields nodded.
“Obviously someone else doesn’t want you to get that thing done, otherwise you wouldn’t be locked up here and you wouldn’t have to call in a private operative. Now this other person also knows what you want done. Isn’t that so?”
“Naturally.”
“Fine. Now put away your yo-yo and listen. This other person sent someone here to masquerade as Cellini Smith and fool you. If your visitor was the real Smith then he’s doing what you asked him. In that case, it won’t hurt to tell me the story because if I’m with the other side I already know it. If, on the other hand, your visitor was a phony then he’s doing nothing in your interests. In that case, I’m the real thing so, again, you should tell me the story.”
Fields considered it and then said reluctantly: “Very well. I suppose you know who I am and about my job.”
“Yes, I checked all that.”
“What you probably couldn’t check was the financial standing of the firm for which I work. It’s so good that at a secret board meeting a few weeks ago we decided to cut our shares four ways. That means that we will take in the outstanding shares of stock and return four for each one.”
“And,” Cellini noted, “make a fortune for whoever owns stock in the outfit.”
“That’s right. Each share is paying two and a half dollars quarterly interest and that will continue after the split. Naturally, I did something about it.”
“You bought a large block?”
“No, I couldn’t take a chance on the firm changing its mind about the four-way split so I went to a call broker and reserved five thousand shares to be called for within thirty days. I don’t know if you understand how a put and call broker operates but it’s something like a real estate dealer. You can put down a small sum of money which gives you the option to buy a piece of land within a certain period. If you decide not to buy, you lose your deposit but if you decide to go through the broker has to deliver at the original price. It’s the same way with a call broker and shares of stock.”