Sheila Oldhill could be relied on to help.
Gerald said she could.
Bromhead then asked if he could meet her. As they drove in Gerald’s Volkswagen, which Sheila had bought him, to the two-room apartment, Bromhead thought of the possibilities. If this woman was a Tomcat, as the receptionist at the hospital had claimed, then she was the woman he wanted. Looking at Gerald as he drove, Bromhead decided this immature boy wouldn’t fall for a non-sexy woman. A woman so much older than he, had to be right.
Bromhead was immediately impressed by Sheila. Although now, at his age, he no longer bothered with women, he was immediately aware of her sensuality, her calmness and her efficiency. With this woman, he told himself, he couldn’t go wrong.
Having explained his plan, he warned them that until Mrs. Morely-Johnson’s companion either died or was proved unfit to resume her duties, the plan wasn’t on. He was a little worried about Gerald who sat away from them, listening and scowling. Whenever he began to speak, Sheila had raised her hand, stopping him and he had muttered a four-letter word under his breath, then kept silent.
Bromhead looked directly at Sheila.
‘What do you say?’
‘It is worth a try,’ she said quietly.
‘This is a gamble,’ Bromhead said. ‘It may not come off. I want you both to think of it as a long term operation, but the payoff will be big.’
Gerald, across the room, chewed his thumbnail.
‘What do you call long term for God’s sake?’
Bromhead regarded him.
‘We will have to wait until the old lady dies.’ He paused, then went on, ‘But no one lives forever.’
Three
G erald Hammett sat in his shabby room at the Franklin Hotel with the door ajar and waited anxiously for Sheila’s return. She had left the hotel at 10.45 and he reckoned she would be back with news by at least 12.30. At 13.00 he went down to the bar and bought a beef sandwich and a glass of beer. From his stool in the bar he could see the entrance of the hotel. He was growing impatient and worried. At 13.30, he returned to his room and again waited. The hands of his watch crept on. What had happened to her? She was the kingpin of this operation and without her, there would be no more money. Had she been knocked down by a car? He was angry and frustrated to realize that although his own pan in the plan was of vital importance, he had such a small active part to play.
Sheila and Bromhead were so goddamn efficient, he thought angrily. It seemed to him that they treated him the way movie stars would treat a bit player and this riled him.
Around 16.00 when almost exasperated with waiting, he saw her come down the corridor, carrying three boxes and several parcels that told him she had been on a shopping spree.
He waited until she had unlocked her door, then he came out into the corridor, looked right and left to assure himself there was no one to see him and then joined her as she entered her room.
‘What happened for God’s sake?’ he demanded as she closed the door.
‘You, shouldn’t be here, Gerry,’ she said as she dropped the boxes on the bed. ‘You’re taking too many risks.’
Gerald said a four-letter word.
‘What happened?’
‘It’s all right. I’m on a three months’ trial.’ She crossed to the flyblown mirror and began to rearrange her hair which she had dressed low, making her look older and severe.
‘What’s all this?’ Gerald demanded, waving to the boxes on the bed.
‘Oh, clothes.’ Her voice was indifferent. ‘Your aunt wants me to dress better.’
‘Did she give you the money?’
‘Of course.’
He stared at the boxes.
‘What’s she paying you?’
‘A hundred and forty a week.’
‘She is?’ Gerald whistled. ‘That’s not hay, man! The old cow must be rolling in the stuff.’
‘We know that.’
Her cold tone made him stare at her.
‘And Patterson?’
‘I was able to persuade him.’
‘Just what the hell does that mean?’
‘Never mind. I
Gerald said she could.
Bromhead then asked if he could meet her. As they drove in Gerald’s Volkswagen, which Sheila had bought him, to the two-room apartment, Bromhead thought of the possibilities. If this woman was a Tomcat, as the receptionist at the hospital had claimed, then she was the woman he wanted. Looking at Gerald as he drove, Bromhead decided this immature boy wouldn’t fall for a non-sexy woman. A woman so much older than he, had to be right.
Bromhead was immediately impressed by Sheila. Although now, at his age, he no longer bothered with women, he was immediately aware of her sensuality, her calmness and her efficiency. With this woman, he told himself, he couldn’t go wrong.
Having explained his plan, he warned them that until Mrs. Morely-Johnson’s companion either died or was proved unfit to resume her duties, the plan wasn’t on. He was a little worried about Gerald who sat away from them, listening and scowling. Whenever he began to speak, Sheila had raised her hand, stopping him and he had muttered a four-letter word under his breath, then kept silent.
Bromhead looked directly at Sheila.
‘What do you say?’
‘It is worth a try,’ she said quietly.
‘This is a gamble,’ Bromhead said. ‘It may not come off. I want you both to think of it as a long term operation, but the payoff will be big.’
Gerald, across the room, chewed his thumbnail.
‘What do you call long term for God’s sake?’
Bromhead regarded him.
‘We will have to wait until the old lady dies.’ He paused, then went on, ‘But no one lives forever.’
Three
G erald Hammett sat in his shabby room at the Franklin Hotel with the door ajar and waited anxiously for Sheila’s return. She had left the hotel at 10.45 and he reckoned she would be back with news by at least 12.30. At 13.00 he went down to the bar and bought a beef sandwich and a glass of beer. From his stool in the bar he could see the entrance of the hotel. He was growing impatient and worried. At 13.30, he returned to his room and again waited. The hands of his watch crept on. What had happened to her? She was the kingpin of this operation and without her, there would be no more money. Had she been knocked down by a car? He was angry and frustrated to realize that although his own pan in the plan was of vital importance, he had such a small active part to play.
Sheila and Bromhead were so goddamn efficient, he thought angrily. It seemed to him that they treated him the way movie stars would treat a bit player and this riled him.
Around 16.00 when almost exasperated with waiting, he saw her come down the corridor, carrying three boxes and several parcels that told him she had been on a shopping spree.
He waited until she had unlocked her door, then he came out into the corridor, looked right and left to assure himself there was no one to see him and then joined her as she entered her room.
‘What happened for God’s sake?’ he demanded as she closed the door.
‘You, shouldn’t be here, Gerry,’ she said as she dropped the boxes on the bed. ‘You’re taking too many risks.’
Gerald said a four-letter word.
‘What happened?’
‘It’s all right. I’m on a three months’ trial.’ She crossed to the flyblown mirror and began to rearrange her hair which she had dressed low, making her look older and severe.
‘What’s all this?’ Gerald demanded, waving to the boxes on the bed.
‘Oh, clothes.’ Her voice was indifferent. ‘Your aunt wants me to dress better.’
‘Did she give you the money?’
‘Of course.’
He stared at the boxes.
‘What’s she paying you?’
‘A hundred and forty a week.’
‘She is?’ Gerald whistled. ‘That’s not hay, man! The old cow must be rolling in the stuff.’
‘We know that.’
Her cold tone made him stare at her.
‘And Patterson?’
‘I was able to persuade him.’
‘Just what the hell does that mean?’
‘Never mind. I
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