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Authors: Jim Thompson

Nothing More than Murder (9 page)

BOOK: Nothing More than Murder
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A person would be nuts to hold back evidence in a murder case unless he stood to clean up by it. There’s such a thing as being an accessory. Besides, the insurance company would probably come through pretty heavy for information that would save twenty-five grand.

Hap finished dressing and we went downstairs together. I told him that I was running into the city.

“Oh?” he said. “You wouldn’t be taking a powder on me, would you?”

“Do I look stupid!” I said. “Why should I?”

“No,” he said, “I suppose you wouldn’t. You want to check on my news about Panzer. Is that it?”

“I want to see if I can do something about it.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’ve got to make an effort. I’ve got a hundred-thousand-dollar property here. I can’t just sit back and let it slide without lifting a hand.”

He stood studying me a moment, then nodded and opened the door of the car. He even took me by the elbow and made as if to help me in.

“Well, the best of luck to you, laddie, and Godspeed and all that rot.”

“So long,” I said.

“I have tremendous faith in you, old man. As well as a certain mercenary interest—you know?”

I drove off without answering. I knew, all right. He’d want a good heavy cut on anything I was able to pull. The more I had the more he and Andy would demand.

I eased up on the gas just outside of town, and started looking for a crossroads to turn around on. There wasn’t a damned bit of use driving into the city. There wasn’t any way I could stop Panzer, and even if there was what would it get me? It would all go for blackmail.

As I say, I almost stopped and turned around. And then I stepped on the gas and went on toward the city. But fast.

Carol? Well, sure, she wasn’t to be overlooked and I hadn’t. But as long as I could keep her from knowing I was skinned clean until afterward it would be all right. As long as she was sure I wasn’t going to run out on her, she really wouldn’t give a whoop about the money.

Believe it or not, it was Elizabeth who had slipped my mind. With Hap and Andy both tackling me in the space of an hour, Elizabeth had slipped into the background. And, anyway, it wouldn’t have made much difference if she hadn’t. Elizabeth was supposed to be dead. I couldn’t tell Hap or Andy that the twenty-five grand had to go to her.

It would have to, though. What was it she’d said?
“There will be exceedingly unpleasant consequences if your memory should fail you—”

She’d have to get it all, right up to the last penny. Keeping Hap and Andy quiet wouldn’t mean a thing, otherwise.

I had to go on. I had to keep the Barclay valuable so that I’d have something to trade for Hap’s and Andy’s silence.

With the best luck in the world I couldn’t wind up with anything. With a little bad luck—just a little—well—

It wasn’t right. It was crazy. All this trouble over a woman I didn’t know—hadn’t ever even seen; a woman who, when you got right down to cases, didn’t amount to a damn.

I
woke up the next morning about six o’clock and just lay in bed, not knowing what to do, until after nine. In the back of my mind, I guess, I was trying to kid myself that Hap had been stringing me about Panzer. Or that, maybe, he’d had the wrong dope. And I hated to get up and find out the truth.

Finally, a little after nine, I got up, caught some breakfast and a barbershop shave, and headed for the row. I hadn’t brought any toilet articles with me. I’d been afraid to bring any luggage on account of Carol. I was wondering now what kind of story I’d hand her when I got back.

Everyone on the row had heard about the fire, and I wasted about an hour shaking hands and receiving sympathy before I could get to the Utopian exchange. Of course there was more of the same stuff there. But the manager saw it was bothering me and he cut it short by taking me back into his office.

Maybe I told you he was an old friend of mine? I’d known him since the days when he was peddling film and I was hauling it.

We had a couple of drinks and talked a little. After a few minutes, he took out his watch and glanced at it.

“Well, Joe,” he said, “what brings you into town? What’s on your mind?”

“Not much of anything, Al,” I said. “I just wanted to get away from things for a day or two.”

“I see. I understand.” He shuffled some papers on his desk. “Well, I’m glad you dropped in.”

“I was just wondering,” I said, “if you had anything on next season’s product yet. Of course, I know you’ve always got a good line-up, but if you had anything unusual I’d kind of like to know. I’ve been figuring on enlarging the house a little.”

He sat there, smiling and nodding. “I believe I have got a few press sheets, Joe. Yeah, here’s something. Take at look at those. Something, huh? I’m not going to run down our competitors, but you can see for yourself that—that—”

His eyes met mine, and the sheets slid out of his hand. He cleared his throat, and looked away.

“You’ve got a nice house, Joe. It always struck me as being just about the right size.”

“Thanks,” I said.

I’d known it was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier to take. I knew it was kid stuff, foolish, to argue. But I couldn’t help myself.

“It always seemed to me, Al,” I said, “that I was a white man to deal with. I don’t give nothing away, but I don’t ask for noth—anything. If I’m not profitable to deal with, that’s a different matter. But it always seemed to me like I was.”

“Oh, hell, Joe,” he said. “I’m in the business so I’ve got to talk price, but I don’t think you’ve actually skinned us six times in ten years. I wouldn’t say that to everyone, but I’ll say it to you. You’re a hundred-percenter in my books.”

“Well, that’s the way I feel,” I said. “You’ve maybe skinned me a few times on superspecials, and you’ve got a damned bad habit of accidentally shipping me stuff I don’t want on the same invoice with stuff that I do, so that I have to take all or nothing. But when I look back upon our whole friendship it’s been pretty pleasant. It’s something I hate to see broken up. I mean if it was going to be broken up.”

“I’m glad you said that, Joe. I like to keep things on a friendly basis. After all, what are we arguing about? It’s just a hypothetical case.”

“Sure,” I said. “Oh, sure. But take even a hypothetical case, Al; it’s kind of hard for me to understand. I mean, I think I get it but I’m not sure. The town isn’t going to get a whole lot bigger, if any, and film rentals are based on population. A can of film is a can of film. If you push it too far back on the shelf it begins to stink. Twenty-five per cent more, and I could reach it. Fifty, and I’m still not crazy. They’ll let me go around if I wear a muzzle. But higher than that—well, they call in the health department.”

“They’ve called it in before, Joe.”

“You know what I mean,” I said.

“It’s hard to understand, all right,” he said. “Personally, I don’t try to. I just sit back and take orders. By the way, have you seen ‘Light o’ Dawn’ yet? We booked it into the Panzpalace here in town last week.”

“I played it,” I said. “Don’t you remember how you jacked me from twenty-five to thirty bucks for it?”

He didn’t seem to hear me.

“We booked it into Panzpalace at fifty per cent of the gross. It pulled seventeen grand the first five days.”

I got up and held out my hand. “Well, good-bye,” I said. “I’ve got to go buy a bottle of liniment.”

“Goddamnit, Joe,” he said, “I like you. If there’s ever anything I can do for you—personally, that is—you know where to come.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do, Al.”

“Well—” He let me get to the door. “Come back a minute, Joe.”

I went back and sat down.

“Joe, I feel like a heel about this.”

“What for?” I said. “It’s just a hypothetical case.”

“Oh, can that crap. The cat’s out of the bag. I feel terrible about it, Joe. It’s a hell of a note to hit a man with a thing like this right after he’s lost his wife.”

“I won’t argue with you there,” I said. “It looks like if Sol had to build another house he could have picked some spot besides Stoneville.”

“No, he couldn’t, Joe.” Al shook his head. “You’ve got the best show town in the state. You’ve got a draw there of a town three times its size. It’s the only place where he could possibly justify the building of another Panzpalace.”

“It’s going to be one then? One of his regular articles?”

“It has to be, Joe. You’ve got a pretty nice house there yourself. Sol couldn’t build enough house for three or four hundred grand, even a half million, to freeze you out.”

“I don’t know that I get you,” I said.

“Sure, you do. You mentioned it yourself a few minutes ago. If you had to, you could pay three or four times as much for product as you are now and keep running. But you couldn’t pay six or seven times as much. Neither could Sol with less than a million-buck house. I mean, he couldn’t justify rentals like that.”

“I see,” I said. “But actually he won’t pay you any more than I do, if he pays that much. He’ll shave you down somewhere else in the chain.”

Al shrugged. “I showed you the answer to that, Joe. Panzpalace controls every important house in the state—the big city houses that play product on percentage instead of at a flat rate. As long as he doesn’t ask us to do anything out-and-out illegal we’ve got to play with him.”

“I’ll make you a little bet,” I said. “I’ll bet inside of ten-fifteen years Panzer has shaved you enough, you and the other exchanges, to pay for that house.”

“Maybe. I just work here.”

“You’re cutting your own throats, Al!”

“Better worry about yourself, Joe. What are your plans?”

“I—I haven’t thought too far ahead,” I said.

“Why don’t you go and see Sol? Maybe you could work out something. I happen to know he likes you.”

“Yeah,” I said, “he must.”

“He does, Joe.” Al leaned forward. “Look. Those big boys don’t look on things like you and I do. The way Sol sees it, it don’t make no difference if there’s a Barclay in Stoneville or not. Relatively, you know. It’s unimportant. But if he don’t put in this Panzpalace—and like I say he’s got to put it in Stoneville—he sees himself as losing several million dollars.”

I let that sink in, and, if there’d been a laugh left in me, it would have come out.

“I see,” I said. “It’s easy for a man to figure that way. You lose track of the fact that something that doesn’t mean a thing to you may mean a hell of a lot to the guy that has it.”

“That’s it exactly.”

“But how does he figure several million dollars?”

“Well, Sol has a reputation as a money-maker, doesn’t he? When he puts up a new house the public looks on it as another mint.”

“They’re not far wrong at that,” I said. “I see. Panzpalace stock will take a jump.”

“It will, but don’t get any ideas, Joe. This is Sol’s surprise and only he knows exactly when he’s going to pull it. He’ll drive the stock down first. If you got in anywhere besides the basement you’d lose your shirt.”

“Not bad,” I said.

“But that’s only part of the picture, Joe.” Al held up a finger. “A Panzpalace house will use around ten thousand dollars’ worth of paper and display matter a year. If you and I bought it, it’d mean a flat outlay of ten grand, but Sol uses the same paper over and over. And he owns his own paper company. It’s not a big outfit; has a capitalization of about a quarter of a million. But—”

But that was all to the good. Dumping ten thousand bucks’ profit into a company that size meant a four per cent increase in dividends.

“Then there’s his film-express company. It’ll take a jump in profits with practically no increase in overhead. And his equipment companies, Joe. You know what show-house equipment is; high-profit, slow-moving stuff. A big order suddenly dumped in on those companies—”

My head began to swim. I’d thought I was halfway smart but beside Panzer I wasn’t anything. He’d mop up in a dozen different ways, and the mopping up would be legitimate. His companies
would
be worth more. He’d have an actual operating loss in Stoneville, but it wouldn’t ever show, and the house wouldn’t cost him anything in the long run. He could show that he was increasing Panzpalace assets by a million bucks. That would stop any squawks.

Of course, someone was going to lose. The money had to come from somewhere. Suckers would be shaken out. The film companies would have to pinch a little, and there’d be wage cuts and layoffs. The— But what the hell of it? Sol would mop up and he’d be in the clear.

That’s business.

Al leaned back in his chair. “By the way, Joe, who tipped you off?”

“No one,” I said. “I just had a premonition.”

“I read the papers, Joe. Hap Chance seems to be your bosom friend all of a sudden. Well, all I got to say is I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes. This is one time he’s got out beyond his depth. I suppose he thought this was just a little petty chiseling that he should be taken in on.”

I didn’t answer him. I didn’t want to talk about Hap. If he was washed up on the row—and Sol could wash him up if he wanted to take the trouble—he’d bear down that much harder on me.

“When’s Sol moving in, Al?”

“Only Sol knows that.”

“Where’s he going to build?”

“Well—” He hesitated. “Maybe I’ve been talking too much. But you can figure it out for yourself. Where would you build if you were in his place?”

“That’s simple,” I said. “You couldn’t pick a better show lot than the one I’ve got, and people are accustomed to going in that direction. But—but—”

I choked up. I could feel my face turning purple. Al looked down at his desk nervously.

“Now, Joe. You couldn’t expect him to talk it over with you.”

“Goddamnit,” I said. “I’ll make him wish he had! Maybe I won’t sell! Maybe I got some ideas on making money, myself! Maybe—”

“You won’t have any income, Joe. How long do you think you can play holdout?”

“A hell of a lot longer than Sol thinks! I don’t give a goddamn if I starve, I’ll—I’ll—”

I choked up again. I wouldn’t get a chance to starve. I wouldn’t even have time to get real hungry before Hap or Andy or Elizabeth or—

“You see, Joe? It wouldn’t be smart, would it?”

“No,” I said, “it wouldn’t be smart.”

I got up and walked out.

BOOK: Nothing More than Murder
7.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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