Read Online 1974 - So What Happens to Me by James Hadley Chase - Free Book Online
Authors: James Hadley Chase
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the most glamorous woman I’ve ever seen.”
We stared at each other and she lifted an eyebrow.
“Thank you.” Another pause. “And thank you for finding Borgia. Not one of these stupid people at the airport thought of looking for him. I don’t believe you haven’t ridden a horse. The way you handled Borgia: only a horseman could have done that.”
“That was another gag.” I smiled at her. “I’m like that. Mrs. Essex. . . a gag man. Out in Saigon, I spent most of my time on a horse when I wasn’t working on kites.”
“And, of course, when you weren’t reading Shakespeare or looking at blue photos.”
“That’s it.”
“Would you be interested to work for us?” She shot the question at me the way Ali shoots a jab.
I was expecting it and had my answer ready.
“Would you qualify the word ‘us’?”
She frowned.
“The Essex Enterprises of course!”
“That would mean working for Mr. Jackson?” I regarded her, then went on, “Just for a moment I thought you were suggesting I should work for you.”
This threw her as I hoped it would. She tried to hold my stare, but her eyes shifted away.
“I asked Jackson if there was some interesting opening we could offer you.” She still looked away from me. “He seems to think that might be difficult, but then he always makes difficulties.”
“I can imagine.” I saw she was back on an even keel again and I smiled at her. “I appreciate this very much, Mrs. Essex: especially you asking me here. After all I only found your horse, but if you could find me a job here. . .” I let it drift. “I would like to talk to Colonel Olson. Frankly, working for Mr. Jackson isn’t my idea of fun and I like fun.”
I got to my feet. “Thank you for your hospitality.” I was now standing over her. “Now, if you’ll do your finger flicking act, I’ll disappear as they all disappear.”
She stared up at me and there was that sudden thing in her eyes that all women get when they want a man. I’ve known a lot of women in my life and that look is unmistakable. I could scarcely believe it but it was there and then it went away: like a green traffic light changing to red.
“Goodbye, Mr. Crane.”
“So long.” I paused and looked right into those big violet eyes. “I know this doesn’t buy me anything, but I want you to know that, right now, I’m looking at the most beautiful woman in the world.”
I made that my exit line.
There was no sign of Bernie Olson when the Bentley decanted me outside my cabin. I went in, wondering if .there was a note for me but didn’t find one.
The time was after 13.00 and I was now hungry. I rang room service and asked for something to eat.
“The special is excellent, Mr. Crane: baby lamb with all the trimmings. Should I send that over?”
I said it would do fine and hung up.
During the drive back to the airport I had thought about Mrs. Essex. Could I have been mistaken about that look that had come into her eyes? I don’t think so, but it seemed fantastic that a woman in her position could have got turned on by a guy like me. So okay, accepting that fact she had been turned on it didn’t mean a thing. A woman like that wouldn’t take risks when married to Lane Essex. She could have her private thoughts but putting those thoughts into action was something else beside.
All the same, she had me turned on. I would have given a couple of years of my life to spend a night with her: that, I knew would be an experience that I would never forget.
After a while, the meal arrived and I ate it. By this time it was 14.23. While I was lighting a cigarette, the telephone rang.
“Hi! Jack!” It was Olson.
“Hi!”
“Have you a car?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think you can find your way to that cafe-bar?”
“No problem.”
“Suppose we meet there in half an hour?”
“Okay.”
He hung up.
Well, I thought as I crushed out my cigarette and got to my feet, I would now know what this was all about. As I left the
We stared at each other and she lifted an eyebrow.
“Thank you.” Another pause. “And thank you for finding Borgia. Not one of these stupid people at the airport thought of looking for him. I don’t believe you haven’t ridden a horse. The way you handled Borgia: only a horseman could have done that.”
“That was another gag.” I smiled at her. “I’m like that. Mrs. Essex. . . a gag man. Out in Saigon, I spent most of my time on a horse when I wasn’t working on kites.”
“And, of course, when you weren’t reading Shakespeare or looking at blue photos.”
“That’s it.”
“Would you be interested to work for us?” She shot the question at me the way Ali shoots a jab.
I was expecting it and had my answer ready.
“Would you qualify the word ‘us’?”
She frowned.
“The Essex Enterprises of course!”
“That would mean working for Mr. Jackson?” I regarded her, then went on, “Just for a moment I thought you were suggesting I should work for you.”
This threw her as I hoped it would. She tried to hold my stare, but her eyes shifted away.
“I asked Jackson if there was some interesting opening we could offer you.” She still looked away from me. “He seems to think that might be difficult, but then he always makes difficulties.”
“I can imagine.” I saw she was back on an even keel again and I smiled at her. “I appreciate this very much, Mrs. Essex: especially you asking me here. After all I only found your horse, but if you could find me a job here. . .” I let it drift. “I would like to talk to Colonel Olson. Frankly, working for Mr. Jackson isn’t my idea of fun and I like fun.”
I got to my feet. “Thank you for your hospitality.” I was now standing over her. “Now, if you’ll do your finger flicking act, I’ll disappear as they all disappear.”
She stared up at me and there was that sudden thing in her eyes that all women get when they want a man. I’ve known a lot of women in my life and that look is unmistakable. I could scarcely believe it but it was there and then it went away: like a green traffic light changing to red.
“Goodbye, Mr. Crane.”
“So long.” I paused and looked right into those big violet eyes. “I know this doesn’t buy me anything, but I want you to know that, right now, I’m looking at the most beautiful woman in the world.”
I made that my exit line.
There was no sign of Bernie Olson when the Bentley decanted me outside my cabin. I went in, wondering if .there was a note for me but didn’t find one.
The time was after 13.00 and I was now hungry. I rang room service and asked for something to eat.
“The special is excellent, Mr. Crane: baby lamb with all the trimmings. Should I send that over?”
I said it would do fine and hung up.
During the drive back to the airport I had thought about Mrs. Essex. Could I have been mistaken about that look that had come into her eyes? I don’t think so, but it seemed fantastic that a woman in her position could have got turned on by a guy like me. So okay, accepting that fact she had been turned on it didn’t mean a thing. A woman like that wouldn’t take risks when married to Lane Essex. She could have her private thoughts but putting those thoughts into action was something else beside.
All the same, she had me turned on. I would have given a couple of years of my life to spend a night with her: that, I knew would be an experience that I would never forget.
After a while, the meal arrived and I ate it. By this time it was 14.23. While I was lighting a cigarette, the telephone rang.
“Hi! Jack!” It was Olson.
“Hi!”
“Have you a car?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think you can find your way to that cafe-bar?”
“No problem.”
“Suppose we meet there in half an hour?”
“Okay.”
He hung up.
Well, I thought as I crushed out my cigarette and got to my feet, I would now know what this was all about. As I left the
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