The Hunter and Other Stories Part 21

Pomeroy starts to speak, but is interrupted by the Dis-and-Dat Kid snarling: "Who is dis mugg?"

Richmond slowly turns to face the Kid, smiles mockingly at him, and says: "Dis mugg is the only one that's going to be paid off on this job. The name's Gene Richmond, employed by Mr. Kavanaugh and Mr. Pomeroy"-with the semblance of a bow vaguely directed toward them-"to shake you boys loose."

From the bedroom doorway Buck addresses Neely earnestly: "That's the truth he's telling, Cheaters. I knew him up north. There ain't no chance of anybody else turning a honest dollar with him around. Let's knock him off right now."

Richmond chuckles and turns to face Buck while Neely is replying good-naturedly: "We can always knock him off. Let's watch him do his stuff a while first."

Richmond turns to Neely: "Why don't you boys go out and pick some flowers and give us a chance to talk this over?"

"Sure," Neely says agreeably. "Talk your heads off, and maybe when you're through, Pommy'll write another check and maybe he'll make it bigger than that one." He turns toward the door. "Coming, boys?"

The boys follow him out, glowering at Richmond.

Neely puts his head into the room again. "We won't be far off if you want us," he says, "or if you don't." He shuts the door again.

Richmond lights a cigarette and addresses Kavanaugh gravely, deliberately: "Mr. Kavanaugh, you called me a blackmailer last night. Perhaps there was some justification for it. "My,"-he smiles faintly-"sales methods are somewhat high-pressure at times, but believe me when I tell you that I know I can straighten this thing out, and that I will if you and Mr. Pomeroy will simply let me handle it in my own way. It may not be a nice way, but this isn't a nice situation. But it isn't the first time a thing of this sort has ever happened. I've handled them before. It's chiefly a matter of deciding which of several possible methods happens to fit this particular case."

A large portion of their distrust has gone out of the two older men's faces while Richmond has been talking, and Pomeroy's face has become almost hopeful. But now he frowns hopelessly again and complains: "But I've got to get rid of them at once. There are people-guests-coming tomorrow. I can't have these men here."

Richmond laughs. "You'd rather go to San Quentin than spoil a weekend party?"

Pomeroy winces.

Richmond puts his hands in his trouser pockets and walks to the window and back to a chair and sits down. His manner is curt, business-like. "First," he says, "I'd like you to go over the whole thing from beginning to end, with every. . . ."

FADE OUT.

Richmond, leaving Pomeroy's room, shuts the door, grins cynically at it, and starts down the hall. Buck steps out of another door and says: "Howdy, tin-star. Make out all right with the plutocrats?"

Richmond, with mock disgust: "They're a couple of sissies! I had a terrible time persuading them to let me have you boys killed resisting arrest. Where's Cheaters?"

Buck points a forefinger at the ceiling. They walk side-by-side to the stairs and go up to the bedroom where Happy is lying as before on the bed and Neely and the Kid are arguing hotly. All three turn toward the door-Happy rolling over on an elbow-when Buck, saying, "We got distinguished company," ushers Richmond in and shuts the door.

Richmond comes to the point at once, in an unruffled, matter-of-fact voice, addressing Neely: "What do you boys want to do? Do you want to crowd Pomeroy to the point where he lets me have you knocked off? Or where he goes into court with a lot of perjury and matches his reputation against yours-calling that thousand-dollar check a forgery?"

Neely chuckles. "You're full of cute tricks, ain't you? No, Richy, all we want is a get-away stake. That's little enough, ain't it?" he goes on persuasively. "Pomeroy'll never miss the dough, we'll get out of the country, and everything'll be all hotsy-totsy."

Richmond moves his shoulders a little and asks: "But what's in that for me?"

Neely stares at Richmond in surprise. The Kid says: "Well, I'll be-"

Buck growls fiercely: "See! What'd I tell you? Let this mugg hang around and we'll be lucky to get away from here without owing money!"

Neely recovers his voice. "What do you want?" he asks sarcastically. "A commission?"

Richmond dismisses that suggestion with a wave of his hand. "We can talk about that later," he says airily. "What I want just now is for you boys to stick around here, keeping out of people's way, not making any trouble for anybody, not riding Pomeroy, and I'll promise to take care of you."

They stare at each other in surprise.

Richmond steps back to the door. "And no matter what happens," he says, "don't let it frighten you into bolting."

He steps through the doorway and shuts the door. They all begin talking at once.

Night. Richmond is leaning on the back of a drawing-room chair, holding a partly filled c.o.c.ktail gla.s.s in his hand. Pomeroy is seated beside a table on which there are gla.s.ses and a c.o.c.ktail shaker. Kavanaugh is helping himself to an hors d'oeuvre from a tray a man servant is holding. There is no conversation; Pomeroy and Kavanaugh seem ill at ease.

Ann Pomeroy comes in, smiles at Kavanaugh, leans over to kiss her father's head, asking: "Am I terribly late again?"

Pomeroy rises to say: "Ann, this is Mr. Richmond. Mr. Richmond, my spoiled daughter."

Ann, smiling, goes to meet Richmond with her hand outstretched. He bows over it. She says, "I suppose they've been pretending they're starved waiting for me," takes Richmond's arm, and guides him toward the dining-room.

He smiles politely, but says nothing. His eyes gravely study her profile when she is not looking at him. Kavanaugh and Pomeroy follow them.

After dinner. Richmond and Ann come out of the house. He is bare-headed, smoking a cigarette. She has a shawl over her dinner dress. As they step down into a path leading to the formal garden, she takes his arm again and says gaily: "I know you. You're Gene Richmond. You're a detective. You found out who murdered Laura Gordon's Aunt Minnie in Portland. She told me about you."

He chuckles. "I remember," he says. "It was a janitor."

Ann: "That was years and years ago. I was in school."

Richmond: "That's right, I'm a doddering old man."

She laughs up at him.

Neely and his cohorts in the bedroom. They are playing stud poker on a card table. Neely, who is dealing, has most of the chips in front of him. Two cards have been dealt. Neely, looking at the cards he has dealt, says, "The king bets." Happy, who has the king showing, pushes out a chip. The Kid and Neely each push out a chip. Buck, the last man, says, "Folding a trey," turns his three of diamonds face down on his hole card.

He rises, yawns, stretches, and goes to the window. A tiny point of light shows through shrubbery down on the grounds, and then Richmond and Ann, walking slowly arm in arm become visible as they pa.s.s through an open s.p.a.ce. Richmond's cigarette glows again.

Buck turns his head over his shoulder to tell his companions: "Sherlock's got the dame out in the bushes."

Neely pushes four chips into the center of the table: "Up a couple."

Happy pushes out four: "And a couple more."

The Kid turns his cards face down. "Ain't worth it," he says. He stands up, takes his coat from the back of his chair, puts it on. "Deal me out awhile," he says. He gets his hat and leaves the room, moving silently, unhurriedly. When the door shuts behind him, Buck grins at it. The others do not look up from their cards.

The garden. Richmond and Ann are seated on a bench some distance away. The Dis-and-Dat Kid moves silently toward them, going swiftly from shadow of tree to bush to hedge until he is close behind their bench. As he crouches there, ready to hear what they are saying, they rise and move on slowly. He follows, stalking them from shadow to shadow.

Ann is saying: "But what are you doing here if Father is not in danger?" She raises her voice a little, tensely. "He is. I know it. I can feel it. It's those four horrible men. I've felt it ever since they've been here."

Richmond smiles at her earnestness. "I can understand your not liking them," he says.

"Liking them?" she repeats, and shudders. Then, both hands on his arm, peering up at his face, she asks: "You are here on their account, aren't you?"

"Part of my business here is with them," he admits, "but your father is not in danger, there is nothing for you to be afraid of. Believe me."

The Kid, moving into the shadow of a tree, startles a cat, which goes hastily up the tree, its claws rasping against the bark.

Ann clings to Richmond, her terrified face twisted around toward the noise, gasping: "What is that?"

Richmond, his arms around her, looking down at her, paying no attention to the noise: "Nothing to be afraid of. You're trembling." He strokes her upper arm with a soothing hand.

The Kid is flat against the tree, out of their sight. His eyes shift from side to side. He is breathing silently through his mouth.

The girl slowly extricates herself from Richmond's arms, though she continues to hold one of them. She looks around uneasily, "Let's go back to the house," she says.

Richmond nods. They go back, arm in arm, the girl now and then glancing apprehensively around. The Kid follows them back-from shadow to shadow.

In the library they find Pomeroy, alone; Ann kisses him, says, "Good night, Father," then holds out her hand to Richmond. "Good night, Mr. Richmond."

He bows and says, "Good night," as she leaves the room. Pomeroy, impressed by his daughter's ready acceptance of Richmond, smiles at him more cordially than heretofore and says: "Smoke a cigar with me." He opens a box on the table beside him.

Richmond says: "Thanks. Where's Kavanaugh?"

Pomeroy: "Gone to bed. He wants to catch the early train back to the city."

Richmond: "Swell." He goes over and shuts the door, then takes a seat facing Pomeroy. "It's just as well to keep him out of it as much as we can."

Pomeroy draws his brows together a little. "I don't understand you," he says a bit coldly. "Mr. Kavanaugh was my father's best friend, has been almost a second father to me. He is, in my opinion, the best lawyer in-"

"I know," Richmond agrees evenly, "but like a lot of top-notch lawyers he's probably never been in a criminal court in his life. All he knows about civil and corporation and this and that kind of law's not going to help you here, Pomeroy-not even criminal law. We don't need law, we need tricks. And maybe we'll be doing Kavanaugh a favor by sparing his conscience knowledge of some of the tricks we'll have to use. If we need legal advice, I've got the man for you-he hasn't looked into a law book for twenty years, but juries don't hang his clients."

Pomeroy winces at the word "hang," then nods doubtfully, partly convinced.

Richmond rises. "I think I'll get some sleep." He looks down at Pomeroy. "Kavanaugh told you I wanted twenty-five thousand dollars down, of course. Will you phone your office in the morning and have them send the check over to my office?"

Pomeroy nods again.

Richmond says, "Thanks. Good night," and goes out.

A corridor. The Dis-and-Dat Kid steps swiftly through a doorway and shuts the door. Richmond comes into sight, pa.s.ses the door behind which the Kid is standing, opens another door farther down, and goes into his bedroom.

The Kid comes out, looks up and down the corridor, and goes quietly to another door, putting the side of his face to it, listening while his eyes and fingers fidget.

Inside the room, Ann Pomeroy, in night clothes, is brushing her hair, humming, smiling as if pleased with her thoughts.

The Kid listens for a while, then takes a deep breath, exhales it, grins crookedly, licks his lips, and goes away.

Richmond, beginning to undress in his bedroom, takes a typewritten piece of paper from his pocket and looks thoughtfully at it, pursing his lips.

It reads: Herbert Pomeroy.

Age 45.

Widower.

One daughter: Ann, 21.

Residence: Pasadena & Green Lake.

Major Partner Pomeroy & Co. Stocks and Bonds.

Large timber holdings Northern California.

Director: K.C. & W.R.R.; Shepherds' National Bank; Pan-American Inv. Co.

Bank Accounts: Shepherds'; Sou. Trust Co.; Fourth Nat'l Bank.

Large real estate holdings vicinity Los Angeles.

Reputed worth $10,000,000 to $12,000,000.

Richmond's finger, traveling down this list, hesitates longest at the fourth item and the last.

He returns the list to his pocket and continues undressing.

The next morning. Richmond's roadster is standing in front of the house. He comes out of the house just as Ann rounds the corner.

She looks at the car and at him and asks, somewhat dismayed: You're not going away?"

"Just to the city for a few hours," he a.s.sures her. "I'll be back this evening."

Her face brightens. She gives him her hand, saying: "Be sure you are."

"It's a promise," he says as he gets into the car.

She waves at him from the steps as he rides swiftly away.

An unclean, shabbily furnished housekeeping room. The bed is not made. There are dirty dishes, an empty gin bottle, gla.s.ses, cigarette b.u.t.ts on an unclothed deal table. In one end of the room a bedraggled youngish woman in a shabby soiled kimono is frying eggs on a small gas stove on the drain-board beside a sink. Barney, in pants, undershirt, and stocking feet, is sitting on the side of the bed.

"Aw, stop bellyaching," he says irritably. "I told you I got a trick up my sleeve that'll have us sweating against silk when I pull it off, but I need two-three days more to get set. I-"

The woman turns around, snarls at him: "I heard that before. You ain't got anything up your sleeve but a dirty arm. I'm sick and tired of having to bring in all the dough while you lay around and-"

There is a knock at the door.

They look at one another. Barney rises from the side of the bed, glances swiftly around the room as if to see that nothing is visible that should not be, and goes to the door. "Who is it?" he asks.

"Richmond."

"All right." Barney opens the door.

Richmond comes in saying: "h.e.l.lo, Barney. h.e.l.lo, May."

The woman nods without saying anything and turns around to her eggs.

Barney shuts and locks the door, saying: "Set down."

Richmond remains standing. He has not taken off his hat. "What's new?" he asks.