Read Online I'll Get You For This by James Hadley Chase - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Hadley Chase
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thought I could trust him.
"Cudco Key," I said.
He nodded. "Yeah, that's a good place. Mac's there."
"I know, and he's a good guy."
"Hell! We're all good guys. I'll look after her,"
"I like that girl," I said slowly. "If anything should happen to her …" I gave him the cold eye.
He nodded. "I'll look after her," he said
I thanked him and drove away.
Lancing Avenue was in the better-class district of Paradise Palms. It was a broad avenue lined by Royal Palms that were as straight-cut as a row of skittles.
I found the chromium and black marble apartment block without difficulty. It had a halfcircular drive to the entrance and a lot of bright lights. It looked like a Christmas tree out of season.
I drove the Mercury up the drive. A big, gaudy convertible threatened to squeeze me off the road as it passed, making a noise like snowflakes on a window. It stopped before the entrance and three dizzy-looking dames, all cigarettes, arched eyebrows and mink coatees got out and went in.
The Mercury made me fell like a poor relation calling on his rich relatives.
I parked behind the limousine and went in too.
The lobby was no smaller than an ice-skating rink, but cosier. There was a reception desk, an enquiry desk, a flower-stall, a cigarette kiosk, and a hall porter's cubby hole. It was class; the
carpet tickled my ankles.
I looked around.
The three dizzy dames had gone over to the elevators. One of them pulled down her gridle with both hands and gave me the eye. She had too much on the ball for me to be more than mildly interested. She was the kind of dame who'd pick out your good inlays without an anaesthetic. I took myself over to the hall porter. He was a sad old man dressed up in a bottlegreen uniform. He didn't look as if he had much joy in his life.
I draped myself over the counter of his cubby-hole.
"Hi, dad," I said.
He looked up and nodded. "Yes, sir?" he said.
"Miss Spence. Miss Lois Spence. Right?"
He nodded again. "Apartment 466, sir. Take the right-hand elevator."
"She in."
"Yes, sir."
"That's fine," I said, and lit a cigarette.
He looked at me and wondered, but he was too well bred to ask why I didn't go up and see her. He just waited.
"How are you going off for holding money, dad?" I asked casually.
He blinked. "Always do with some, sir," he said.
"Kind of tough here?" I asked, glancing around. "All silk for the customers and crepe for the staff?"
He nodded. "We're supposed to make it in tips, sir," he said bitterly. "But they are so mean here they wouldn't give a blind beggar the air."
I took out a five spot and folded it carefully. He eyed it the way I eye Dorothy Lamour.
"Miss Spence interests me," I said. "Know anything about her?"
He glanced around uneasily. "Don't flash that money so anyone can see it, sir," he begged. "I wouldn't like to lose my job."
I hid the note in my hand, but I let the end show in case he forgot what it looked like.
"Do you talk or do you talk?" I asked pleasantly.
"Well, I know her, sir," he said. "She's been here three years, and you get to know them after a while." He said it as if he hated her guts.
"Nice to you?"
"Maybe she doesn't mean it, sir," he said, shrugging.
"You mean she doesn't kick you in the face because her leg doesn't stretch that far?"
He nodded.
"What's her line?" I asked.
His old face sneered. "Tom—he runs the elevator—says she'd flop at the drop of a hat. Perhaps you know what he means. I don't."
"It's a cynical way of saying she's a push-over," I said. "Is she?"
He shook his head. "Maybe the first time, but not after that. She kind of whets a guy's appetite and then holds him off. It comes kind of expensive the second time. I've seen guys climb walls and gnaw their way across the ceiling because they couldn't make the grade."
"She kind of gets in your blood, huh?"
He nodded. "One sap
"Cudco Key," I said.
He nodded. "Yeah, that's a good place. Mac's there."
"I know, and he's a good guy."
"Hell! We're all good guys. I'll look after her,"
"I like that girl," I said slowly. "If anything should happen to her …" I gave him the cold eye.
He nodded. "I'll look after her," he said
I thanked him and drove away.
Lancing Avenue was in the better-class district of Paradise Palms. It was a broad avenue lined by Royal Palms that were as straight-cut as a row of skittles.
I found the chromium and black marble apartment block without difficulty. It had a halfcircular drive to the entrance and a lot of bright lights. It looked like a Christmas tree out of season.
I drove the Mercury up the drive. A big, gaudy convertible threatened to squeeze me off the road as it passed, making a noise like snowflakes on a window. It stopped before the entrance and three dizzy-looking dames, all cigarettes, arched eyebrows and mink coatees got out and went in.
The Mercury made me fell like a poor relation calling on his rich relatives.
I parked behind the limousine and went in too.
The lobby was no smaller than an ice-skating rink, but cosier. There was a reception desk, an enquiry desk, a flower-stall, a cigarette kiosk, and a hall porter's cubby hole. It was class; the
carpet tickled my ankles.
I looked around.
The three dizzy dames had gone over to the elevators. One of them pulled down her gridle with both hands and gave me the eye. She had too much on the ball for me to be more than mildly interested. She was the kind of dame who'd pick out your good inlays without an anaesthetic. I took myself over to the hall porter. He was a sad old man dressed up in a bottlegreen uniform. He didn't look as if he had much joy in his life.
I draped myself over the counter of his cubby-hole.
"Hi, dad," I said.
He looked up and nodded. "Yes, sir?" he said.
"Miss Spence. Miss Lois Spence. Right?"
He nodded again. "Apartment 466, sir. Take the right-hand elevator."
"She in."
"Yes, sir."
"That's fine," I said, and lit a cigarette.
He looked at me and wondered, but he was too well bred to ask why I didn't go up and see her. He just waited.
"How are you going off for holding money, dad?" I asked casually.
He blinked. "Always do with some, sir," he said.
"Kind of tough here?" I asked, glancing around. "All silk for the customers and crepe for the staff?"
He nodded. "We're supposed to make it in tips, sir," he said bitterly. "But they are so mean here they wouldn't give a blind beggar the air."
I took out a five spot and folded it carefully. He eyed it the way I eye Dorothy Lamour.
"Miss Spence interests me," I said. "Know anything about her?"
He glanced around uneasily. "Don't flash that money so anyone can see it, sir," he begged. "I wouldn't like to lose my job."
I hid the note in my hand, but I let the end show in case he forgot what it looked like.
"Do you talk or do you talk?" I asked pleasantly.
"Well, I know her, sir," he said. "She's been here three years, and you get to know them after a while." He said it as if he hated her guts.
"Nice to you?"
"Maybe she doesn't mean it, sir," he said, shrugging.
"You mean she doesn't kick you in the face because her leg doesn't stretch that far?"
He nodded.
"What's her line?" I asked.
His old face sneered. "Tom—he runs the elevator—says she'd flop at the drop of a hat. Perhaps you know what he means. I don't."
"It's a cynical way of saying she's a push-over," I said. "Is she?"
He shook his head. "Maybe the first time, but not after that. She kind of whets a guy's appetite and then holds him off. It comes kind of expensive the second time. I've seen guys climb walls and gnaw their way across the ceiling because they couldn't make the grade."
"She kind of gets in your blood, huh?"
He nodded. "One sap
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