private dick.”
“So what?” I said.
“Somebody’s goin’ to get somebody’s face pushed into somebody’s floor,” Beef said coldly.
“Aw, keep that crap for the boiler room,” I told him. “I’m sick of hard guys for this evening. I said ‘so what,’ and ‘so what’ is what I said.”
Marty Estel looked mildly amused. “Hell, keep your shirt in. I’ve got to look after my friends, don’t I? You know who I am. O.K., I know what you talked to Miss Huntress about. And I know something about you that you don’t know I know.”
“All right,” I said. “This fat slob Hawkins collected ten from me for letting me up here this afternoon—knowing perfectly well who I was—and he has just collected ten from your iron man for slipping me the nasty. Give me back my gun and tell me what makes my business your business.”
“Plenty. First off, Harriet’s not home. We’re waiting for her on account of a thing that happened. I can’t wait any longer. Got to go to work at the club. So what did you come after this time?”
“Looking for the Jeeter boy. Somebody shot at his car tonight. From now on he needs somebody to walk behind him.”
“You think I play games like that?” Estel asked me coldly.
I walked over to a cabinet and opened it and found a bottle of Scotch. I twisted the cap off, lifted a glass from the tabouret and poured some out. I tasted it. It tasted all right.
I looked around for ice, but there wasn’t any. It had all melted long since in the bucket.
“I asked you a question,” Estel said gravely.
“I heard it. I’m making my mind up. The answer is, I wouldn’t have thought it—no. But it happened. I was there. I was in the car—instead of young Jeeter. His father had sent for me to come to the house to talk things over.”
“What things?”
I didn’t bother to look surprised. “You hold fifty grand of the boy’s paper. That looks bad for you, if anything happens to him.”
“I don’t figure it that way. Because that way I would lose my dough. The old man won’t pay—granted. But I wait a couple of years and I collect from the kid. He gets his estate out of trust when he’s twenty-eight. Right now he gets a grand a month and he can’t even will anything, because it’s still in trust. Savvy?”
“So you wouldn’t knock him off,” I said, using my Scotch. “But you might throw a scare into him.”
Estel frowned. He discarded his cigarette into a tray and watched it smoke a moment before he picked it up again and snubbed it out. He shook his head.
“If you’re going to bodyguard him, it would almost pay me to stand part of your salary, wouldn’t it? Almost. A man in my racket can’t take care of everything. He’s of age and it’s his business who he runs around with. For instance, women. Any reason why a nice girl shouldn’t cut herself a piece of five million bucks?”
I said: “I think it’s a swell idea. What was it you knew about me that I didn’t know you knew?”
He smiled, faintly. “What was it you were waiting to tell Miss Huntress—the thing that happened?”
He smiled faintly again.
“Listen, Marlowe, there are lots of ways to play any game.
I walked over to a cabinet and opened it and found a bottle of Scotch. I twisted the cap off, lifted a glass from the tabouret and poured some out. I tasted it. It tasted all right.
I looked around for ice, but there wasn’t any. It had all melted long since in the bucket.
“I asked you a question,” Estel said gravely.
“I heard it. I’m making my mind up. The answer is, I wouldn’t have thought it—no. But it happened. I was there. I was in the car—instead of young Jeeter. His father had sent for me to come to the house to talk things over.”
“What things?”
I didn’t bother to look surprised. “You hold fifty grand of the boy’s paper. That looks bad for you, if anything happens to him.”
“I don’t figure it that way. Because that way I would lose my dough. The old
“So what?” I said.
“Somebody’s goin’ to get somebody’s face pushed into somebody’s floor,” Beef said coldly.
“Aw, keep that crap for the boiler room,” I told him. “I’m sick of hard guys for this evening. I said ‘so what,’ and ‘so what’ is what I said.”
Marty Estel looked mildly amused. “Hell, keep your shirt in. I’ve got to look after my friends, don’t I? You know who I am. O.K., I know what you talked to Miss Huntress about. And I know something about you that you don’t know I know.”
“All right,” I said. “This fat slob Hawkins collected ten from me for letting me up here this afternoon—knowing perfectly well who I was—and he has just collected ten from your iron man for slipping me the nasty. Give me back my gun and tell me what makes my business your business.”
“Plenty. First off, Harriet’s not home. We’re waiting for her on account of a thing that happened. I can’t wait any longer. Got to go to work at the club. So what did you come after this time?”
“Looking for the Jeeter boy. Somebody shot at his car tonight. From now on he needs somebody to walk behind him.”
“You think I play games like that?” Estel asked me coldly.
I walked over to a cabinet and opened it and found a bottle of Scotch. I twisted the cap off, lifted a glass from the tabouret and poured some out. I tasted it. It tasted all right.
I looked around for ice, but there wasn’t any. It had all melted long since in the bucket.
“I asked you a question,” Estel said gravely.
“I heard it. I’m making my mind up. The answer is, I wouldn’t have thought it—no. But it happened. I was there. I was in the car—instead of young Jeeter. His father had sent for me to come to the house to talk things over.”
“What things?”
I didn’t bother to look surprised. “You hold fifty grand of the boy’s paper. That looks bad for you, if anything happens to him.”
“I don’t figure it that way. Because that way I would lose my dough. The old man won’t pay—granted. But I wait a couple of years and I collect from the kid. He gets his estate out of trust when he’s twenty-eight. Right now he gets a grand a month and he can’t even will anything, because it’s still in trust. Savvy?”
“So you wouldn’t knock him off,” I said, using my Scotch. “But you might throw a scare into him.”
Estel frowned. He discarded his cigarette into a tray and watched it smoke a moment before he picked it up again and snubbed it out. He shook his head.
“If you’re going to bodyguard him, it would almost pay me to stand part of your salary, wouldn’t it? Almost. A man in my racket can’t take care of everything. He’s of age and it’s his business who he runs around with. For instance, women. Any reason why a nice girl shouldn’t cut herself a piece of five million bucks?”
I said: “I think it’s a swell idea. What was it you knew about me that I didn’t know you knew?”
He smiled, faintly. “What was it you were waiting to tell Miss Huntress—the thing that happened?”
He smiled faintly again.
“Listen, Marlowe, there are lots of ways to play any game.
I walked over to a cabinet and opened it and found a bottle of Scotch. I twisted the cap off, lifted a glass from the tabouret and poured some out. I tasted it. It tasted all right.
I looked around for ice, but there wasn’t any. It had all melted long since in the bucket.
“I asked you a question,” Estel said gravely.
“I heard it. I’m making my mind up. The answer is, I wouldn’t have thought it—no. But it happened. I was there. I was in the car—instead of young Jeeter. His father had sent for me to come to the house to talk things over.”
“What things?”
I didn’t bother to look surprised. “You hold fifty grand of the boy’s paper. That looks bad for you, if anything happens to him.”
“I don’t figure it that way. Because that way I would lose my dough. The old
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