don't want to lose twenty thousand," she said. "I can't agree to that."
"I have just made you twenty thousand for nothing," I said impatiently.
"In actual fact I am supplying the margin on which I'll gamble. So what are you worrying about? But if you don't want some tax-free money, say so and I won't bother."
She hesitated.
"I want a weekly statement then."
"All right. I don't care. Have a weekly statement."
"You really think you can make me five thousand a month tax free?"
"I'm damned sure I can."
"Very well, you can have the money." She studied me doubtfully. "I suppose you will be making something out of it yourself?"
I laughed.
"Of course I shall. I have an arrangement with my broker. It won't cost you a dime, but it'll cost him plenty." I pushed back my chair and stood up. "Well, I have a lot of things to do, Miss Shelley. I'll run along now."
She sat looking up at me. The fascinated, admiring expression was still in her eyes.
"Perhaps you would like to dine with me here tonight?"
I shook my head.
"I'm sorry, but I have a date tonight."
She looked suddenly sulky.
"Oh. Some woman, of course."
"I'm going to the fights. No woman tonight."
"Fights? What fights?"
"Out at Parkside Stadium."
"I've always wanted to see a fight. You wouldn't take me with you, would you?"
I was just about to turn her down, when I suddenly realized that the exclusive, important Miss Shelley, worth seventy million dollars, was actually angling for an invitation.
I didn't want to take her. I had a nice blonde lined up for tonight, but I saw an important opportunity here; too important to pass up. It would do my credit a power of good and it would make a big impression on the sporting boys to see me with Vestal Shelley hanging on my arm.
"You really want to come?" I said, as if I didn't care one way or the other.
"Oh yes, please." She jumped to her feet, her thin, pinched little face suddenly animated and bright. "Will you take me?"
"Well, all right if you want to come. Suppose I pick you up at seven? We can have dinner at the Stadium."
"I'll be ready at seven."
"Fine. Well, so long, Miss Shelley." I moved towards the steps leading to the garden, then paused, "I still have that car of yours. Can I keep it a little longer?"
"Why, yes." She was looking at me in a way that surprised me. Her eyes were bright, her face flushed and she seemed suddenly as excited as a child going to its first party. "Keep it as long as you like, Mr. Winters."
"Thanks."
As I drove slowly down the cliff road, back to Little Eden, I took stock.
In two days I had cleaned up twenty-four thousand dollars! It seemed unbelievable, but it was a fact. My partnership with Ryan Blakestone would bring me in at least a thousand a month. What had I to worry about? At last I was getting the breaks. If I handled this setup right, and I intended to handle it right, there was no end to the money I could make.
I drove over to the Florian restaurant feeling I had a pretty good morning's work behind me.
chapter five
T he last of the preliminary bouts was on when we left the Stadium restaurant and walked down the dimly lit aisle to our ringside seats.
I had quickly discovered that taking Vestal Shelley out for the evening was a regal occasion.
She was wearing a flowing white evening gown with white tulle to hide her skinny shoulders. She was ablaze with diamonds. She had a diamond collar around her throat, diamonds in her hair, diamonds covering the bodice of her dress, and diamonds around her wrists. The effect was pretty overpowering and her every movement sent brilliant flashes to dazzle me.
We went to the Stadium in a Rolls Royce as big as a battleship. Joe, the chauffeur, was decked out in a cream whipcord uniform, patent leather knee boots, gauntlets and a cream peaked cap with a black cockade in it.
I felt as if I had been caught up in some Hollywood epic, and when the Stadium manager came down the red carpeted steps to welcome her to her
"I have just made you twenty thousand for nothing," I said impatiently.
"In actual fact I am supplying the margin on which I'll gamble. So what are you worrying about? But if you don't want some tax-free money, say so and I won't bother."
She hesitated.
"I want a weekly statement then."
"All right. I don't care. Have a weekly statement."
"You really think you can make me five thousand a month tax free?"
"I'm damned sure I can."
"Very well, you can have the money." She studied me doubtfully. "I suppose you will be making something out of it yourself?"
I laughed.
"Of course I shall. I have an arrangement with my broker. It won't cost you a dime, but it'll cost him plenty." I pushed back my chair and stood up. "Well, I have a lot of things to do, Miss Shelley. I'll run along now."
She sat looking up at me. The fascinated, admiring expression was still in her eyes.
"Perhaps you would like to dine with me here tonight?"
I shook my head.
"I'm sorry, but I have a date tonight."
She looked suddenly sulky.
"Oh. Some woman, of course."
"I'm going to the fights. No woman tonight."
"Fights? What fights?"
"Out at Parkside Stadium."
"I've always wanted to see a fight. You wouldn't take me with you, would you?"
I was just about to turn her down, when I suddenly realized that the exclusive, important Miss Shelley, worth seventy million dollars, was actually angling for an invitation.
I didn't want to take her. I had a nice blonde lined up for tonight, but I saw an important opportunity here; too important to pass up. It would do my credit a power of good and it would make a big impression on the sporting boys to see me with Vestal Shelley hanging on my arm.
"You really want to come?" I said, as if I didn't care one way or the other.
"Oh yes, please." She jumped to her feet, her thin, pinched little face suddenly animated and bright. "Will you take me?"
"Well, all right if you want to come. Suppose I pick you up at seven? We can have dinner at the Stadium."
"I'll be ready at seven."
"Fine. Well, so long, Miss Shelley." I moved towards the steps leading to the garden, then paused, "I still have that car of yours. Can I keep it a little longer?"
"Why, yes." She was looking at me in a way that surprised me. Her eyes were bright, her face flushed and she seemed suddenly as excited as a child going to its first party. "Keep it as long as you like, Mr. Winters."
"Thanks."
As I drove slowly down the cliff road, back to Little Eden, I took stock.
In two days I had cleaned up twenty-four thousand dollars! It seemed unbelievable, but it was a fact. My partnership with Ryan Blakestone would bring me in at least a thousand a month. What had I to worry about? At last I was getting the breaks. If I handled this setup right, and I intended to handle it right, there was no end to the money I could make.
I drove over to the Florian restaurant feeling I had a pretty good morning's work behind me.
chapter five
T he last of the preliminary bouts was on when we left the Stadium restaurant and walked down the dimly lit aisle to our ringside seats.
I had quickly discovered that taking Vestal Shelley out for the evening was a regal occasion.
She was wearing a flowing white evening gown with white tulle to hide her skinny shoulders. She was ablaze with diamonds. She had a diamond collar around her throat, diamonds in her hair, diamonds covering the bodice of her dress, and diamonds around her wrists. The effect was pretty overpowering and her every movement sent brilliant flashes to dazzle me.
We went to the Stadium in a Rolls Royce as big as a battleship. Joe, the chauffeur, was decked out in a cream whipcord uniform, patent leather knee boots, gauntlets and a cream peaked cap with a black cockade in it.
I felt as if I had been caught up in some Hollywood epic, and when the Stadium manager came down the red carpeted steps to welcome her to her
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