dreamed of making.
“You’re lying,” I said.
“Sit down. We haven’t much time, but enough for me to explain the set-up to you. Go on,
Johnny, sit down and listen.”
I sat down. She sat a few yards from me, the gun in her lap, the moonlight on her face, and
in spite of her dishevelled hair and the streak of blood down the side of her nose, she still
looked lovely.
Speaking rapidly, she told me the dead man was Paul Wertham, a big-time gambler, the
owner of three casinos.
“He’s the head of an organization worth millions,” she said. “The moment it’s known he’s
dead, the vultures will move in and grab. He has a manager for each casino. They’d grab
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everything and leave me to whistle for my share. But so long as they think he’s alive,” it can
be handled. That’s the set-up. I can’t handle it on my own. I can handle it with your help. The
take is half a million, and you’ll get half of it: two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. It’s
easy. All you want is nerve, and if you do what I tell you, we can’t go wrong.”
That was my cue to say no: when I should have walked away and taken the chance of
getting a slug in the back; when I should have remembered what Tom Roche had said about
big and sudden money leading to trouble.
But I didn’t say no. I suddenly realized she was deadly serious. She actually meant half a
million, and I started to think what that much money could buy.
“How can you keep his death quiet?” I asked. “How long do you think it’ll be before they
find out?”
Then she smiled and relaxed because she knew I was on the hook and all she had to do was
to hit the line to sink the barb in too deep for me to jump off.
“We have only to keep it quiet for three or four days: not longer; and the money’s ours. It’s
as easy as that.” “Go on; keep talking.”
“Each casino has a large cash reserve in case there’s a run on the bank. The casino at
Lincoln Beach caters for millionaires. The reserve there is half a million in cash. Each casino
is in charge of a manager. Jack Ricca runs the Los Angeles place. Nick Reisner takes care of
Lincoln Beach, and Pete Levinsky, the Paris end.” She was leaning forward, speaking fast
and softly, and I didn’t miss a word of what she was saying. “Paul was going to Paris when
he was tipped that Reisner was dipping into the reserve to cover his own gambling losses. He
had to act fast. The Paris trip was important so he arranged for Ricca to go to Lincoln Beach.
He phoned Reisner and told him Ricca was on his way and was to have access to the books.
But at the last moment Ricca went on a drinking jag. Every so often he gets the urge and
hides himself away with a crate of whisky, and that’s all anyone knows about him until he
reappears again. Paul had to cancel his Paris trip. There was no time to tell Reisner he was
coming in Ricca’s place. He and I were on our way when we stopped at Pelotta to watch the
fights.” She reached out and put her hand on my knee. “Reisner doesn’t know Paul was
coming in place of Ricca, and Reisner has never seen Ricca. You’re going to be Ricca for just
as long as it takes us to collect that reserve. That’s the set-up. How do you like it?”
I sat looking at her.
“And my cut will be a quarter of a million?”
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“Yes, Johnny, word of honour. There can be no blowback to this. I’ve as much right to it as
Reisner has. I have more right to it. Every nickel of it belongs to Paul. If he had made a will
he would have left it to me.”
“Can we get away with it?”
“Yes. It just needs nerve.”
This was the chance I had been waiting for. I knew it meant trouble, but money that big had
to mean trouble. Well, the opportunity was there: right in my lap. I wasn’t going to pass it up.
“Count me in,” I said.
III
We had been walking maybe for ten minutes when we saw a light shining in the darkness.
Another twenty yards brought us to a small wooden cabin, facing the sea.
“Are you all set, Johnny?” she asked, stopping. “You know what to do. You’re suffering
from concussion. Leave all the talking to me.”
“I know what to do.”
I flopped down on the sand and stretched out while she went on towards the cabin. While I
waited I tried to keep my mind blank, but it couldn’t be done. I kept thinking of the trouble
that was piling up for me, but I wasn’t going to side-step it. Come hail, come sunshine, I was
going to have that money.
I heard voices. I heard her say, “He just passed out. I think its concussion.” The anxious,
frightened note in her voice even fooled me.
A man said, “I’ll get him in, miss. Just you take it easy.”
Hands turned me over on my back. I let out a groan to tell him how bad I was, and looked
through my eyelashes as he bent over me. I couldn’t see much of him in the half darkness. He
seemed short and powerfully built, and that was about all I could see.
He was powerful all right, for he got me to my feet as if I weighed a few pounds. I made an
effort to keep upright, then slumped heavily on him.
“Take it easy,” he said. “It ain’t far. Lean on me as hard as you like.”
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I felt Della take my arm, and supported between the two of them I made a slow, staggering
journey across the sand to the cabin.
They got me on to a bed. I lay still, my eyes closed. I heard him say, “He sure is knocked
about. What do you want me to do, miss? Get a doctor?”
“How far is it to the nearest telephone?” she asked.
“About half a mile down the road.”
He had moved away from me now, and I took a peep at him. He was elderly, with a tanned,
lined face and stubbly white hair. I looked from him to her. She had dropped into a chair. Her
face was tight and hard, and as white as a bone. She must have been tough to have withstood
the shock of the crash and her husband’s death and still be able to plan and act as she had
done. But now she looked ready to flop, and the old guy seemed to think so too. He went
hastily to a cupboard and brought out a bottle of whisky. He poured her a stiff drink, and she
put it down as if it were water.
“Our car was stolen,” she said huskily. “We were held up. My friend was hit on the head.
It’s important we should get to Lincoln Beach at once. I wonder if you would telephone to
our friends and ask them to come and pick us up?”
“Why, sure. I’ll do it right away. The name’s Jud Harkness. I’ll be glad to do anything I can
for you.”
“I can’t say how grateful I am, Mr. Harkness,” she said, and smiled at him. “We were on
our way to Lincoln Beach when this hold-up happened. If you could phone …”
“Give me the number, miss, and I’ll do it. Want me to call the cops?”
“I want to get him home first. I’ll report the hold-up from Lincoln Beach. The number is
Lincoln Beach 4444. Can you remember that?”
“Sure, that’s an easy one,”
“Ask for Nick Reisner. Tell him Ricca has met with an accident and for him to come out
here as soon as he can. Will you do that?”
Harkness repeated the message.
“I can’t thank you enough.”
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When he had left the cabin I sat up.
“What’s the idea of the hold-up? That’ll bring in the police.”
She looked at me, a far-away expression in her eyes, as if she were thinking of other things
besides what I was saying.
“The car might be traced to Paul. I don’t think there’s much chance of it because the plates
are phoneys, but they might trace it. If they do, the car has to be stolen. You can see that,