Read Online 1984 - Hit Them Where it Hurts by James Hadley Chase - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Hadley Chase
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‘A hundred thousand?’ he said. ‘That’s a lot of jack.’
‘It sure is. Where do I find him?’
‘I dunno where he is, but I might find out. I could ask around. For all I know he isn’t living here. He could be anywhere.’
I had a feeling he was lying, but this had to be a patient game.
‘OK, Hank,’ I said. ‘You have my card. If you do contact Terry, and he wants the money, give me a call. OK?’
‘Yeah.’
He looked beyond me and became aware of Bill who was lolling against the wall, chewing gum.
‘Who’s that midget?’ he demanded.
‘He’s my bodyguard,’ I said, deadpan. ‘He’s a good man to have around if smart boys think they’re tough.’
‘That little jerk?’ Hank gave a wide, sneering grin. ‘Man! He couldn’t blow froth off beer.’
Seeing Bill slide his hands into his pockets, I backed away. I wanted to get out of this dump in one piece.
‘Let’s go, Bill,’ I said sharply. ‘OK, Hank, if you locate Terry let me know,’ and taking a firm grip on Bill’s arm, I walked him across the dance floor and into the bustle and humid heat of the waterfront.
‘Why didn’t you let me hang one on that ape?’ Bill demanded as we reached my car.
‘Patience,’ I said, getting into the car. ‘You’ll have your chance, but not right now.’
As I drove from the waterfront Bill asked, ‘What’s the next move?’
‘We go home,’ I said. ‘I still think Terry could give us the key to this case. I’ve hung out two baits. Angela and Hank now know that Terry is worth a hundred thousand. I’m sure they know where he is. I’m hoping one of them will tell him and he’ll surface.’
‘Suppose they don’t know where he is?’
‘I think they do. We’ll see. We’ll meet at the office tomorrow at nine.’
Bill shrugged.
‘Suits me.’
I dropped him off at his walkup, then drove to the Bellevue Hotel.
Suzy gave me a loving smile as I crossed the lobby to the reception desk.
‘Honey, how about tonight? Any time?’ I asked.
She shook her head.
‘Impossible tonight, Dirk, dear. I won’t be free until three. By then I’ll be half-dead. Be patient, my love. Wednesday as usual.’
Two fat elderly men came to the desk, and with a bright smile Suzy joined them.
I tramped back to my car and drove home.
With junk on the TV, I took a shower and went to bed.
In the office, the following morning, around 09.30 with Bill at his desk and me at mine, the telephone bell rang.
I scooped up the receiver.
‘Wallace?’ I recognised Hank’s gravelly voice.
‘Hi, Hank,’ I said and motioned to Bill who snatched up the extension so he could listen in.
‘You got news for me?’
‘Yeah.’ A pause, then he went on, ‘I found him, and he wants the money fast.’
‘Where did you find him, Hank?’
A long pause, then he said, ‘Never mind. When does he get the money?’
‘No problem, Hank,’ I said and grinned at Bill. ‘I’ll get it organised. I’ll call you back?’
‘What do you mean—organised?’
‘I’ll have to contact the bank and fix an appointment. Mr. Ackland who runs the bank, will need identification and time to prepare forms for Terry to sign. No problem. I’ll call you back,’ and I hung up.
‘Stinks of a con,’ Bill said as he hung up.
‘Maybe. OK, here’s what you do. Go, see that Harry Rich of the Dead End club and ask him if he will be willing to identify Terry at the bank. I think he will be there pronto, to see Terry again. You take care of that. I’ll take care of Ackland.’
Twenty minutes later, I walked into Ackland’s office. He rose from his desk, shook hands and gave me his benign bishop’s smile.
‘How do we progress, Mr. Wallace?’ he asked as we both sat down.
‘I understand that you hold a hundred thousand dollars in the favour of Terrance Thorsen or Zeigler, left him by a Miss Angus of the Breakers building.’
He stared at me.
‘That is correct, but I don’t understand, Mr. Wallace. I am in touch with
‘A hundred thousand?’ he said. ‘That’s a lot of jack.’
‘It sure is. Where do I find him?’
‘I dunno where he is, but I might find out. I could ask around. For all I know he isn’t living here. He could be anywhere.’
I had a feeling he was lying, but this had to be a patient game.
‘OK, Hank,’ I said. ‘You have my card. If you do contact Terry, and he wants the money, give me a call. OK?’
‘Yeah.’
He looked beyond me and became aware of Bill who was lolling against the wall, chewing gum.
‘Who’s that midget?’ he demanded.
‘He’s my bodyguard,’ I said, deadpan. ‘He’s a good man to have around if smart boys think they’re tough.’
‘That little jerk?’ Hank gave a wide, sneering grin. ‘Man! He couldn’t blow froth off beer.’
Seeing Bill slide his hands into his pockets, I backed away. I wanted to get out of this dump in one piece.
‘Let’s go, Bill,’ I said sharply. ‘OK, Hank, if you locate Terry let me know,’ and taking a firm grip on Bill’s arm, I walked him across the dance floor and into the bustle and humid heat of the waterfront.
‘Why didn’t you let me hang one on that ape?’ Bill demanded as we reached my car.
‘Patience,’ I said, getting into the car. ‘You’ll have your chance, but not right now.’
As I drove from the waterfront Bill asked, ‘What’s the next move?’
‘We go home,’ I said. ‘I still think Terry could give us the key to this case. I’ve hung out two baits. Angela and Hank now know that Terry is worth a hundred thousand. I’m sure they know where he is. I’m hoping one of them will tell him and he’ll surface.’
‘Suppose they don’t know where he is?’
‘I think they do. We’ll see. We’ll meet at the office tomorrow at nine.’
Bill shrugged.
‘Suits me.’
I dropped him off at his walkup, then drove to the Bellevue Hotel.
Suzy gave me a loving smile as I crossed the lobby to the reception desk.
‘Honey, how about tonight? Any time?’ I asked.
She shook her head.
‘Impossible tonight, Dirk, dear. I won’t be free until three. By then I’ll be half-dead. Be patient, my love. Wednesday as usual.’
Two fat elderly men came to the desk, and with a bright smile Suzy joined them.
I tramped back to my car and drove home.
With junk on the TV, I took a shower and went to bed.
In the office, the following morning, around 09.30 with Bill at his desk and me at mine, the telephone bell rang.
I scooped up the receiver.
‘Wallace?’ I recognised Hank’s gravelly voice.
‘Hi, Hank,’ I said and motioned to Bill who snatched up the extension so he could listen in.
‘You got news for me?’
‘Yeah.’ A pause, then he went on, ‘I found him, and he wants the money fast.’
‘Where did you find him, Hank?’
A long pause, then he said, ‘Never mind. When does he get the money?’
‘No problem, Hank,’ I said and grinned at Bill. ‘I’ll get it organised. I’ll call you back?’
‘What do you mean—organised?’
‘I’ll have to contact the bank and fix an appointment. Mr. Ackland who runs the bank, will need identification and time to prepare forms for Terry to sign. No problem. I’ll call you back,’ and I hung up.
‘Stinks of a con,’ Bill said as he hung up.
‘Maybe. OK, here’s what you do. Go, see that Harry Rich of the Dead End club and ask him if he will be willing to identify Terry at the bank. I think he will be there pronto, to see Terry again. You take care of that. I’ll take care of Ackland.’
Twenty minutes later, I walked into Ackland’s office. He rose from his desk, shook hands and gave me his benign bishop’s smile.
‘How do we progress, Mr. Wallace?’ he asked as we both sat down.
‘I understand that you hold a hundred thousand dollars in the favour of Terrance Thorsen or Zeigler, left him by a Miss Angus of the Breakers building.’
He stared at me.
‘That is correct, but I don’t understand, Mr. Wallace. I am in touch with
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