No Orchids for Miss Blandish (14 page)

"I'm planning to see the girl this morning," Fenner said. "She's my only link with Riley. I can't believe he left her flat. I have a hunch he must have told her something before he went underground."

"You're wasting your time," Doyle said. "We had her in and we questioned her for hours. Riley did walk out on her all right. The fact she's taken up with Eddie Schultz proves it. If she thought she had a chance of helping Riley spend the Blandish ransom money, she wouldn't have looked at Schultz."

"Well, I'm going to talk to her. I've got nothing else to work on."

"Watch your step," Doyle said. "Make sure Schultz isn't there when you call. That guy's dangerous."

"I'll watch it."

"I was in the Paradise Club last night," Doyle said. "I thought, before I quit watching the girl, I should see what her act was like. It's some act. I don't reckon she'll stay much longer with Schultz. She's got enough talent to hit Broadway."

"It beats me that a wild gang like the Grissons should have opened a club. Schulberg must have found a lot of dough all of a sudden."

"Yeah. I knew the club when Rocco ran it. You should see it now. You should see those hoods too: all got up in tuxedos, except Slim: he's the same as ever."

Fenner grimaced.

"There's a bad one if ever there was one."

"Yeah." Doyle grinned ruefully. "He nearly scared the life out of me last night. While the Borg girl was doing her act, I thought it might be an idea to get a closer look at the club. The opportunity came when they turned off the lights. I wanted to take a look upstairs. There was a hat check girl on guard, but I had a bit of luck. A couple of guys came in and checked their hats. One of them knocked over the bowl the girl keeps her tips in. The money fell behind the counter. She and the two guys were scrabbling for the money and I nipped up the stairs. There are seven rooms up there. Six of them bedrooms. The door at the end of the passage is fitted with a lock and a bolt outside which struck me as strange. Why a bolt outside? There was a TV set on. The door was locked from the inside. I didn't have long to look around when the Borg girl's act finished. I had just got to the head of the stairs when I heard a sound behind me. I looked around. The locked door was open. Slim Grisson was standing in the doorway. He had a knife in his hand. The sight of him certainly sent up my blood pressure. I didn't wait. I went down the stairs three at a time. The hat check girl looked at me as if I were a ghost. I kept going. When I got to the exit, I heard a shout. Schultz was coming after me. The bouncer at the door made a grab at me, but I socked him, got the door open and ran for my life. Schultz followed me as far as the main road, then he turned back."

"I'd like to have seen you on the run," Fenner said grinning. "Sounds like Ma Grisson's running a brothel up there. Did you tell Brennan?"

"Sure, but we can't do a thing. Nearly all the members are big shots with a load of influence. We'd never get a warrant to bust in there. Besides, the place is like a fort. The entrance door is made of steel and there are steel shutters covering the windows."

"Any idea what goes on in the locked room?"

"No. Your guess is as good as mine."

"Where will I find the Borg girl?"

"She and Schultz share an apartment at Malvern Court," Doyle said. "Top floor. But watch it. Don't walk in when Schultz's around."

When Doyle had gone, Fenner spent an hour reading through Doyle's reports. He didn't learn much except that Schultz always left the apartment at eleven o'clock to go to the club. Anna left at one o'clock to lunch at the club.

Fenner called Paula at the office.

"I'll be in after lunch," he said. "I'm going now to talk to the Borg girl. Any messages?"

"Mr. Blandish called. He's asking for news."

"I'll call him from here. Anything else?"

"A fat old party wants you to find her dog," Paula said, giggling. "I said you were allergic to dogs. That's right, isn't it?"

"Could be. Did she have any money?"

"Of course not." There was a pause, then Paula went on, "I wish you were allergic to strippers."

"Maybe I will be after I've talked to this one," Fenner said and hung up.

He called Blandish.

"I still think Anna Borg could tell us something," he said when Blandish came on the line. "Everything depends on how I approach her. The police have worked her over and got nothing out of her. I'm going to see if I can bribe her to talk. You said money is no object. Does that still go?"

"Of course," Blandish said. "What have you in mind?"

"I thought I'd tell her you would put her on Broadway if she can give us any information that will lead us to Riley. That might hook her."

"Try it," Blandish said.

"I'll call you back," and Fenner hung up.

Eddie Schultz came out of a heavy sleep with a start. The sun was shining through the blinds and he blinked, cursed, and then looked at the bedside clock. It was close on ten a.m.

Anna slept at his side. She was making a gentle snorting noise and Eddie scowled at her.

He got out of bed and searched for his cigarettes. He had a headache and he felt like hell. He lit a cigarette, then went into the sitting room. He poured himself a big whiskey and tossed it down.

The liquor exploded in his stomach. He groaned, then as the effects of the spirit reacted on his jaded system, he felt better. His sleep-sodden mind began to work.

He remembered the cop of last night. Ma had nearly flipped her lid when Slim had come down to say the cop had been upstairs. Eddie grimaced. Ma was right, of course. He had been careless, but it wasn't as if the cop had found out anything. Slim was the one who had made the real uproar. There had been a horrible moment when Eddie had been sure Slim was going to kill him. If it hadn't been for Ma, he was sure Slim would have stuck his goddamn knife into him. The memory of the scene brought Eddie out into a cold sweat.

Anyway, it was Ma's fault. If she had to be so stupid to let her nipple-headed son keep the Blandish girl, then she had to accept the responsibility if anything went wrong.

He returned to the bedroom.

Anna was awake. She had kicked off the bedclothes. She was lying flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She had on a sheer nylon nightgown.

"You're not doing your act now," Eddie growled on his way to the bathroom. "Cover up. You're indecent."

Ten minutes later, showered and shaved, he came into the bedroom. Anna still lay on the bed, still staring up at the ceiling.

"Instead of acting like a hypnotized fugitive from a honky-tonk," Eddie barked, "couldn't you get me some coffee?"

"Get it yourself; are you so helpless?" Anna sat up abruptly. "Eddie, I'm getting sick of this life. I've about had enough of it."

"Here we go again," Eddie said. "Two months ago you were hiding your talents behind a couple of moth-eaten fans for peanuts. I fix it for you to work in the best club in town. You get a hundred and fifty bucks a week and you're still not satisfied. What do you want? More money?"

"I want to get into big time," Anna said. She got off the bed and went into the bathroom.

Shrugging, Eddie went into the kitchen and made coffee. He took the coffee into the sitting room. Anna came in. She had put on a wrap and had fixed her hair. She saw the whiskey bottle that Eddie had forgotten to put back in the cabinet.

"Can't you lay off the booze for ten minutes?" she demanded. "What are you becoming--an alcoholic?"

"Oh, shut up!" Eddie snarled.

They drank their coffee in brooding silence.

"If I could find someone to finance me," Anna said suddenly, "I'd get out of this town."

"If I could find someone to finance me, I'd do the same," Eddie said sarcastically. "Will you stop yapping about your goddamn talent? Why don't you wake up? You're just a dime a dozen stripper. You're getting too big for your pants!"

Anna pushed aside her coffee cup.

"You men are all the same," she said wearily. "Frankie was the same. All you're interested in is my body and my looks. You aren't interested in me for myself."

Eddie groaned.

"If the candy tastes good, why worry what it's made of?"

"But suppose I was ugly, Eddie? Would you look at me? No, of course you wouldn't! But it would be me just the same."

"Oh, for the love of Mike! Can't we cut this out? I've got a hell of a headache. You're not ugly. So what?"

"I'm scared of getting old. I want to be in the bright lights before that happens. I want to be someone. I want to be a star: not a cheap stripper in a cheap club."

"Snap out of it, will you?" Eddie pleaded. "You're depressing me. You're doing all right. Can't you be content?"

"What's going on upstairs in the club?" Anna asked abruptly.

Eddie stiffened, looking sharply at her.

"Nothing. What do you mean?"

"Oh, yes there is. I'm not blind. I have an idea Slim's got a girl up there. Who is she, Eddie?"

"You're nuts!" Eddie said angrily. "Slim doesn't go for girls."

"I've seen Doc and Ma go up there. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Eddie snapped. "So shut up!"

"I must have a hole in my head to have picked you to live with," Anna said angrily. "That's all I ever get from you--shut up!"

"You talk the crap you talk and that's all you can expect to hear." He went into the bedroom. It was time he left for the club. He dressed.

Anna came in.

"How much longer are you going to tag along with the Grisson gang?" she demanded. "How much longer are you going to lick that old bitch's boots?"

"And don't start that again," Eddie yelled, struggling into his coat. "I'm getting out of here. I've had all I want from you for one day."

Anna sneered.

"Small-time. What I ever saw in you! Run along, gigolo. Start your boot licking."

"Don't say you didn't ask for this," Eddie bellowed. "I've had enough of your big mouth. I'm going to teach you who's boss around here!

He pounced on her. Scooping her up, he slammed her face down across the bed. Holding her securely under the angle of his arm, he whisked up her clothes and began to spank her long and hard.

Kicking and struggling, Anna screamed like a train whistle. Eddie continued to slap her until his hand was burning and sore and the neighbors on either side of the apartment began hammering on the walls.

Then leaving her wriggling and screaming on the bed, Eddie left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Fenner, sitting in his car opposite the apartment block saw Eddie come out, his face dark with rage. He watched him get into the Buick and drive away.

Leaving his car, Fenner entered the apartment block and took the elevator to the top floor.

Before ringing the front door bell, Fenner checked to make sure his gun was ready for fast action, then he pushed the bell.

After a minute's wait, he rang again. The door remained unanswered. Fenner frowned. He was sure the girl was in. Why didn't she answer? He placed his thumb on the bell and kept it there.

After another two minutes, the door flew open. Her face contorted with pain and fury, her hair disheveled, Anna glared at him.

"What do you think this is--a fire station?" she screamed at him. "Get the hell out of here!" She attempted to slam the door, but Fenner had already wedged his foot against it.

"Miss Borg?"

"I'm not seeing anyone! Beat it!"

"But I am from Spewack, Anderson and Hart," Fenner lied. "Surely you want to see me?"

The name of the famous Broadway theatrical agents gave Anna pause. She stared at him.

"Are you kidding?" she demanded suspiciously.

"What should I want to kid you for?" Fenner asked blandly. "Spewack saw your act last night. He talked to Anderson, and if Hart had been on speaking terms with Anderson, you can bet your last nickel that Anderson would have talked to Hart. I have a proposition to discuss with you, Miss Borg."

"If this is a gag..." Anna began, then stopped. If it was true! she was thinking. Spewack, Anderson and Hart interested in
her!

"If you don't want to discuss it that's okay with me," Fenner said, stepping back. "But let me tell you, baby, eight hundred strippers in this city would give their G-strings for the chance."

Anna hesitated no longer. She threw open the door.

"Well, come in..."

She led the way into the sitting room. She could kill Eddie, she was thinking. She had already inspected the damage he had inflicted on her. Suppose Spewack, Anderson and Hart wanted her for an audition? Suppose this guy wanted her to hop a taxi and go right downtown and do her act? How could she with the bruises she was carrying?

"Would you be interested to work in New York, Miss Borg?" Fenner asked, selecting the most comfortable chair and sitting down. "Or are you all tied up here?"

Anna's eyes opened wide.

"New York? Gee! I'd love it. No, I'm not tied up."

"You're not under contract with the Paradise Club?"

"It's only a week-to-week arrangement."

"That's fine. Sit down, Miss Borg: relax. I have a modern fairy story to tell you."

Absentmindedly, Anna sat down, but was up immediately with a gasp of pain.

"You sit on a tack or something?" Fenner asked, interested.

"Standing is good for my figure," Anna said, forcing a smile. "In my line, I have to watch, my figure."

"Relax, baby. I'll watch your figure. It'll be a pleasure."

"Now, see here, mister," Anna said, "If this turns out to be a gag..."

"This is no gag, Miss Borg," Fenner said smoothly. "We have a client with more money than sense. He wants to finance a musical on Broadway: that'll tell you how crazy he is, but who are we to discourage him? He's got the book, he's got the music and now he wants a star. He insists we use local talent. He made his money in Kansas City and he's sentimental. He wants some local girl to have the chance to be a star. We haven't found anyone yet as good as you. Do you want the chance?"

Anna's eyes opened wide.

"Do I
want
it? You really
mean
I'll be a
star
on Broadway?"