‘So you really think I’ve got no hope of getting that money?’ she said.
‘Is that all you can think about?’ I said, suddenly irritated that the first words she could speak to me had to be about the money. Up to this moment, she had not spoken a word since I had taken her in my arms.
‘Why not? It’s important, isn’t it? Three-quarters of a million! Think what we could do with all that money.’
Well, at least, she was now including me in the financial scene. I sat on the bed, close to her.
‘He said he was going to make sure you didn’t get it,’ I said. ‘Yesterday he flew up to San Francisco. It’s my bet he’s talked with the insurance people. No, I think you can kiss it good-bye.’
‘His contract runs out today,’ she said, reaching for a cigarette. She put it between her red lips and waited for me to light it. She went on, ‘He’ll stay here night and day, drinking. He’ll have no more credit. They’ll take everything. I might as well pack and get out now.’
‘And where do you think you’ll go?’
She shrugged. ‘I’ve a little money put by. I’ll find someone else. There’s always some fool with money to be found. I think I’ll go to Miami.’
‘Don’t be in too much of a rush,’ I said, lighting a cigarette. ‘Stick with him until the smash. You never know. He might borrow on the policy and square his debts. Three-quarters of a million is quite a piece of money.’
‘He won’t give me any of it. No, I’m going to clear out. I’ve wasted too much time already. I can look after myself.’
‘I’m not so sure that you can,’ I said, looking at her. ‘You may be smart at hooking a guy, but you’re not all that hot when it comes to landing him. You lost thirteen thousand on the Van Tomlin deal. You’ve made a complete mess of the Dester deal. Tell me, did you push Van Tomlin out of the window?’
She stared up at me, her green eyes suddenly empty.
‘No. He fell out. I could have saved him perhaps if I had caught hold of him, but I didn’t. But I didn’t push him out.’
I had an idea she was lying, but I knew it was a waste of time to press her. She had no intention of telling me what really happened.
‘Well, don’t be in too much of a rush. Don’t go today. Wait and see what he’s planning to do when he gets back,’ I said. ‘You never know. Why don’t you have a change of heart? When he comes back, be kind to him. He might part with something. It’s worth trying.’
She grimaced. ‘It’s too late now,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t bear him to touch me. No, I’m going to clear out.’
‘Wait until he comes back,’ I said.
She shrugged. ‘All right, but I shall go tomorrow.’
‘Alone?’
She looked at me. ‘Of course. You don’t imagine I’d want you with me, do you?’
‘You might do worse,’ I said. ‘You and I might work a deluxe badger game. I’m not saying we could pick up three-quarters of a million: that’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but we could pick up quite a lot of spare change. You need a guy like me to handle the financial side of the business. With your looks and my brains we could make a packet of money.’
She smiled. ‘Have you any brains?’
‘You’d be surprised. Look, suppose we both go to Miami. Your job would be to look beautiful and handle the suckers. My job would be to step in at the right moment and milk them. You can’t do that. You may think you can, but it doesn’t work. You need a guy to do it.’
Her expression was thoughtful while she stared out of the window. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.
I stood up. ‘Well, don’t leave today. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow. I’m going to get some lunch. Want to come with me?’
She shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’
I stared down at her. She was once more remote and cold; the ice had come back. I didn’t care. Just so long as I could thaw her out when I felt like it, why should I worry how she was in the intervals?
‘I’m picking him up around four. We’ll be back before six.’
‘Yes.’ She was looking beyond me. I wondered what her mind was working at. I bent over her and made to kiss her, but she turned her head with a little grimace. ‘Leave me alone,’ she said sharply. ‘Go away.’
‘The thing I like about you is your endearing nature,’ I said, straightening. ‘Well, okay, please yourself. It’s no skin off my nose.’
‘Do go away,’ she said impatiently. ‘You don’t have to be a bore, do you?’
I wanted then to slap her face. It suddenly dawned on me I had made as much impression on her as a rubber hammer makes on a rock.
I went out of the room and slammed the door behind me.
At four o’clock sharp, I rapped on Dester’s office door, turned the handle and walked in.
He was writing at his desk. He looked up and nodded to me. For the first time I had been in this room, he was sober.
‘Get the bottles packed, kid,’ he said, waving to the cupboard. ‘I won’t be a minute.’
I had brought with me two suitcases. By the time I had packed the bottles, he had finished his letter. He took out an envelope, slid the letter into it and sealed it. He put the letter in his wallet.
‘I guess that’s about everything,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘Okay, let’s get out of here.’
As he was moving to the door, there was a knock and the door opened.
A girl stood in the doorway: she was tall and thin and as flat as a board. Her hair was scraped back and she wore horn-rimmed spectacles. She was the kind of girl who would never marry and who would finish up in a back bed-sitting room with a couple of cats for company.
She had a bunch of long-stemmed red roses, done up in a tissue-paper sheaf that she held awkwardly and which she offered to Dester.
‘I... I just wanted to say I’m sorry you are going, Mr. Dester,’ she said. ‘There are a lot of us who will miss you. I and they wish you luck.’
Dester stared at her: under his raw, red skin, I could see he had turned white, giving him a horrible, mottled look. He took the roses and held them against his chest. He started to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. For a long moment the girl and he stood looking at each other, then she put her hands to her eyes and began to cry.
He walked around her, still holding the roses and made for the door. There was a look on his face I’ll never forget. I went after him. We walked down the passage, through the reception hall, where everyone stared, and down the steps to the car.
He got into the car and laid the roses on the seat beside him.
‘Get me home,’ he said hoarsely, ‘but first put up this damned hood.’
I pulled up the hood.
By the time I reached the house, he seemed to have recovered, although his face was still blotchy. He got out of the car, carrying the roses and he gave me a stiff, tight smile.
‘It’s a funny thing, but the most unlikely people remember one. That girl — she had some small job at the Studio. I can’t even remember her name.’ He looked at the roses. ‘Nice of her.’ He stood staring at the flowers for a long moment, then with an effort, he snapped out of his depression. ‘Get the liquor up to my bedroom. I want you to come over to the house at eight o’clock tonight. I have a job for you — probably your last job, kid.’
Wondering what it was all about, I said I’d be there.
He turned away, then stopped, his hand going to his breast pocket.
‘Oh, damn it! I meant you to stop so I could mail this letter.’ He took the letter from his wallet. ‘Be a good kid and mail it now for me, will you? Take the car. It’s important.’