Your Deal, My Lovely

by Peter Cheyney

Genres: Mystery; Hard-Boiled; Traditional Mysteries

Synopsis

In his seventh adventure 'G' man Lemmy Caution is sent to investigate the murder of a female agent and the disappearance of a prominent scientist. His search leads Lemmy to notorious gangster Enrico Pranzetti, and straight into a trap ...

Release date: September 6, 2012

Publisher: Orion

Print pages: 187

Sample

Sweet Momma

1

SOME MUG by the name of Confucius—who was a guy who was supposed to know his vegetables—once issued an edict that
any time he saw a sap sittin’ around bein’ impervious to the weather an’ anything else that was goin’, an’ lookin’ like he had been hit in the kisser with a
flat-iron, the said sap was sufferin’ from woman trouble.

I reckon Confucius musta been thinkin’ of me.

It is as dark as hell. It is also drizzlin’ with rain an’ somewhere around in the skies I can hear a Heinkel dronin’. But I am not worryin’ too much about any of these
things because I am wonderin’ about that sweet momma Carlette.

This baby has got everything you ever heard about an’ then a couple of trucks-full. So far as I am concerned she is the answer to the travellin’ salesman’s prayer. I could tell
you things about that dame’s geography which would make you wonder why you are so stuck on the dame you are gettin’ around with at the moment.

She is not so tall but she is certainly not short. She has got curves that you never saw in a geometry book. She has got deep an’ mysterious blue eyes an’ when she looks at you you
can feel snakes playin’ baseball in your spine. I’m tellin’ you mugs with my hand on my heart that when they served out allure that baby collected for the whole family, an’
I will also go so far as to say that if she had been let loose in the Garden of Eden, Adam would have closed down for the afternoon, turned out the serpent, and started pickin’ apples like he
was in the jam business.

This Carlette has also got some very nifty clothes an’ she knows how to wear ’em. Also I wish to point out that havin’ spent a lot of time walkin’ up the ship’s
companionway behind this dame I can tell you that she has such a swell pair of legs that even if she was as ugly as hell you would still know just where to look any time you was feelin’
depressed.

Me . . . I am goofy about this baby. Sittin’ there in the dark with the rain runnin’ off the edge of my fedora an’ drippin’ on my nose, I get around to rememberin’
her voice which is one of those voices that sound like pourin’ double cream on a satin bedspread. It is sorta soft an’ low an’ hoarse an’ it has got little cadences in it
that register on you like you have been smacked in the midriff by an express truck.

I throw my wet cigarette stub away an’ begin to ruminate about one or two dames I have known in my time. All around me are guys with darkened torches shepherdin’ the passengers off
the Florida, checkin’ passports, examinin’ luggage an’ generally rushin’ around to see that nobody is bringin’ in any more trouble than is already
breakin’ around this country.

Nobody seems to be worryin’ about the Heinkel. I reckon these English mugs can take anythin’, an’ havin’ decided that they are goin’ through with this war with
Mister Hitler, they are not inclined to get themselves too steamed up about a little matter of bomb droppin’.

Havin’ disposed of these great thoughts I get back to thinkin’ about Carlette, an’ I am very interested in the way that the old brain-box is concerned with this baby, because I
have always found that when I get around to concentratin’ on a dame I have always started to lay up plenty trouble for myself.

Maybe your mother told you that it was wrong to get to thinkin’ about women too much. O.K. Well, take it from me the old lady was right. The only time when a guy can legitimately think
about janes is when he is good an’ dead. Because directly he thinks about some sweet momma he starts wishin’ virtues on to her that she ain’t got anyway an’ when he has done
this he then proceeds to tell himself that this dame is too good for him which is probably goddam right but not in the way he is thinkin’.

There is only one way to be safe with women an’ that is to play a lot of ’em at once. If you get kickin’ around with one honeylamb it is Mussolini’s favourite ear-wig to
the Royal Mint that she will take a long sideways look at you out of them cornflower-blue eyes an’ in two minutes you are so gaga that you would make the village idiot look like Edison. Then,
before you know what is happenin’ to you, you are kiddin’ yourself that you have talked her into marryin’ you, instead of which the sweet little she-cuss has given one more mug
the bum’s rush an’ got him where she wants him.

Right at this minute a big guy in a black oilskin slicker comes up to me. He says:

“Would you be Mr. Thaxby?”

“Right first guess,” I tell him. “Elmer T. Thaxby of Cold Springs, Colorado—America’s foremost Nuts and Bolts salesman.”

He grins.

“I’ll bet, Mr. Caution,” he says. “Anyhow, the nuts part is right. Have you got your identity?”

I fish down in my inside overcoat pocket an’ I bring out my Federal Bureau identity card, my Thaxby passport an’ a few other documents that prove I am me. He looks over these
an’ says:

“My name’s Rapps—Detective Sergeant, Southampton Police. I’ve come down here to get your stuff through the Customs, Mr. Caution. I suppose you’ll be wanting to get
the first train up.”

I ask him how the trains are goin’. He says there is one in twenty minutes—the nine-thirty, an’ another one at ten-thirty. I tell him that I will take the first one. He is just
goin’ off when I get an idea.

“Listen, pal,” I say. “There’s a dame on this boat by the name of Lariat—Miss Carlette Lariat. Well, I’m sorta interested in that baby. Maybe she’s
goin’ up on the nine-thirty too. I wonder if you could push her stuff through the Customs so’s we can make that train together.”

He says that would be easy. He looks at me an’ says:

“You’re interested in this lady?”

“She’s not workin’ with me if that’s what you mean,” I tell him. I grin. “This is just a little personal thing.”

He says he’s got me. He goes off.

I sit down on a wet seat an’ light another cigarette. It’s sorta funny gettin’ used to the darkness over here. Me—I have been in England before in the days when they had
the bright lights on. Now, when you can’t see a goddam thing, I reckon I like it just as much. I get up an’ start walkin’ along towards the Customs barrier, when somebody says:

“Hey, Mr. Thaxby!”

I turn around an’ I see it is the wireless officer off the Florida. This boy is a good guy an’ him an’ me have had plenty drinks together on the trip. He says:

“I’ve been rushing all around the place tryin’ to get at you. I got a wireless for you half an hour before we pulled in, but I’ve been tied up with the old man. Here it
is. Sorry about the delay.”

I bust open the envelope an’ read it. It is from Herrick, the Chief Detective Inspector that I worked with on the Van Zelden case way back in 1936. The radio says:

Take it you will arrive on train leaving Southampton nine thirty am sending Grant meet you at Waterloo. Will contact you in few days time good luck Mr. Thaxby.

Herrick.

I put the radio in my pocket an’ say ‘Thanks a lot’ to the wireless guy. This bozo is from Cincinnati an’ his name is Manders. He says:

“Well, I hope you’re goin’ to have a good trip, Mr. Thaxby. Mind you duck if they throw a bomb at you.”

“I’ll duck all right,” I tell him. “How long’s the Florida goin’ to be here?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he says. “I think maybe we’ll stick around two-three days, but we’ve gotta pick up a cargo and clear. I don’t think we’ll be
here long. Well, I’ll be seein’ you.”

He’s just turnin’ away when he remembers somethin’. He says:

“Hey, Mr. Thaxby, Miss Lariat was lookin’ for you.”

“Was she now?” I tell him. “Where did you see her last?”

“She was over at the Customs,” he says. “She was worried she wouldn’t make that nine-thirty train.” He looks at me sort of old-fashioned. “It’s a
funny thing,” he says, “the way a nice dame like that will fall for a guy. The more reserved they are the harder they fall.”

“Oh yes!” I tell him. “An’ who was the guy that she fell for?”

He gives me a big grin. He says:

“You don’t have to start puttin’ on an act! I reckon everybody knew that she was nuts about you.”

I think to myself not so bad, but I put on a sorta modest look an’ I say:

“Not on your life. Why, I hardly talked to the dame.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Maybe you’re one of those guys that don’t have to talk to a dame. It did me good to see the way her eyes followed you when you was walkin’ around the deck. I reckon
you’re her idea of a real fella.”

I give him a short punch in the ribs. I say:

“What do you wanta do—borrow some jack?”

He laughs an’ goes off in the dark. I think to myself this is nice goin’, because even if I am over in this country on a job there is no reason at all why I should not have a
pleasant journey up to Waterloo with this Lariat baby an’ maybe fix up a little date to have dinner one time in London. After all a guy has gotta relax sometimes.

I look at my watch an’ I see it is ten past nine. I ease over towards the Customs barrier. Way over in the corner I can see the Southampton copper, Rapps. I go over to him.

“It’s O.K., Mr. Thaxby,” he says. “Your stuff’s through, so’s Miss Lariat’s. I got an idea she’s waiting for you. Goodnight and good
luck.”

I tell him goodnight an’ I walk through the barrier. I’m goin’ pretty carefully because it is as dark as hell, an’ any time you walk in the wrong direction you’re
liable to fall in the drink. I’m peerin’ around when Manders, the wireless guy, comes up.

“O.K.,” he says. “She’s waitin’ for you down there on the jetty. I believe your stuff’s gone down to the train. Another thing,” he says, “if
you don’t wanta waste any time, keep straight on on the right-hand side of the jetty. If you get on the other side of the barrier it’ll take you twice as long because there’s an
unexploded bomb round there.”

I say thanks a lot an’ I walk down the jetty. Pretty soon I can see Carlette standin’ up against the wall. I can see the tip of her nose in the light of the cigarette she is
smokin’. She has got the fur collar of her coat turned up around her face and, believe me or believe me not, she looks like the answer to anybody’s prayer.

“Well, well,” I tell her. “So it looks as if you an’ me are goin’ up on the same train, which is a very nice thing because there are one or two things I wanta say
to you.”

She looks up at me an’ smiles. She is one of those dames who, when they smile, give you everything they’ve got. She says sorta fresh:

“And what would Mr. Thaxby have to say to me?”

“Well,” I tell her, “I’ve been thinkin’ one or two things up. First of all I think you’re what the doctor ordered. I like everything about you. I like the
way you walk an’ the way you put your feet on the ground. Also you are one of those dames whose stockin’ seams are always straight up the back and both level.”

“Just fancy,” she says. “So you’ve noticed that too.”

“Why not?” I tell her. “I was sorta interested. But come on, we haven’t any time to waste.”

We start walkin’ down the jetty. When we get about fifteen yards, the moon comes up an’ just for a minute you can see one or two things, which is a nice change. Five or six paces
away is the edge of the stone jetty. She puts her hand on my arm an’ she says, pointin’ to the water:

“Isn’t that wonderful? I love to see the reflection of moonlight on the water.”

She walks over to the edge an’ stands lookin’ down. I tell her:

“Well, now that you’ve looked at the reflection of the moon on the water, supposin’ we make this train.”

“All right,” she says.

She turns around an’ as she does so she slips. I hear her give a little squeal an’ the next thing I hear is the splash. I stand lookin’ down into the water twenty feet below.
When she comes up she is a good six yards from the jetty. I reckon there is a current down there. I don’t waste any time. I throw off my overcoat, get rid of my shoes an’ jacket
an’ take a dive in the drink. An’ was it cold or was it!

I come up about six yards from her. I can see her tryin’ to swim but she ain’t got much chance with that coat on. I take a coupla nice easy strokes an’ get close to her. I say:

“Take it easy. This is goin’ to be all right. Just put your hand on my shoulder, willya?”

She gives a little gulp.

“Right,” she says, an’ I can see she is still smilin’.

I let go a holloa that you coulda heard in Japan an’ paddle around for a few seconds, after which some guy appears on the edge of the jetty an’ throws me a rope. Two minutes later
we’re standin’ up there shakin’ the water off ourselves. I’m tellin’ you guys that if it was cold before it is now like Iceland in the winter season.

“Look, Carlette,” I tell her, “we’ve gotta get outa here pretty good an’ quick, otherwise somebody is goin’ to get lumbago. The second thing is that by the
time we have got dried off we shall be lucky if we get the second train at ten-thirty. Now lets get a ripple on.”

“It’s O.K. by me,” she says.

She slips her hand through my arm an’ we make a run for it.

2

I reckon we’re about fifteen minutes off Waterloo when I say to her:

“What about you an’ me havin’ a little dinner one night? I’m goin’ to be pretty busy over here, but maybe I could steal just one night off.”

She says: “So you’re going to be busy. I’ve been wondering what a man like you does.”

“I can answer that one easy,” I tell her. “I’m in the Nuts an’ Bolts business. My uncle’s factory at Cold Springs makes ’em an’ I sell
’em, an’ believe me the amount of nuts an’ bolts they are needin’ in this country at this time is nobody’s business.”

She says: “That’s very interesting.” She takes a long look at me an’ she goes on: “That’s funny, because I didn’t think you looked like a man who
sold anything.”

“Except myself maybe,” I crack at her. “Anyway, what about this dinner date?”

She shakes her head.

“Nothing doing,” she says. She puts her hand up an’ stops me sayin’ anything. “Look,” she goes on, “I’m going to tell you something, and you
can believe it or not, I don’t want to see you again because—well, I’m rather attracted by you and I don’t want to be attracted by any one at the moment. It might interfere
. . .”

“With what?” I ask her.

“I can’t tell you that,” she says.

“You’re a funny sort of dame, Carlette,” I tell her. “You tell me you don’t wanta see me any more because you think you’re attracted. Well, comin’
over on the Florida you seemed to spend all the time you could keepin’ away from me.”

“Well,” she says, “there’s a reason. Nobody who’s got any sense likes playing with fire, you know. The point is,” she goes on, “I shall always
remember this evening. I shall always remember you getting me out of that very cold water. I just want to leave it like that, see?”

“I see,” I say. I look at her for a minute. Then I go on: “It’s a funny thing, you know, but I gotta sort of idea in my head that I’ve met you before some place,
I don’t know why. I’ve got a good memory but I can’t remember you. Yet how could I forget you? It intrigues me. I can’t make it out.”

She smiles. She says:

“I expect it was some other woman. I expect there’ve been lots of them in your life.”

I put on a sort of modest look.

“No,” I tell her. “I’m not a guy who goes for dames.”

“You’re telling me!” she says.

We both laugh. I light myself a cigarette an’ ask her if she will excuse me for a minute. Then I get up an’ wander down the corridor until I find the guard’s van. This guard is
a reasonable sorta guy. I give him a pound note an’ I say:

“Look, there’s a lady in the restaurant car called Miss Carlette Lariat. When we get to Waterloo she’ll go along to get her luggage from the van. You get along too. When you
get the chance give that pound note to the porter who’s takin’ her luggage an’ ask him to stick around an’ get the address that she gives the taxi-driver. You got that?”

He says he understands it all right, but ain’t it a bit irregular.

“No,” I tell him, “it ain’t.” I give him another three pounds. “That’s for your own trouble,” I say. “Are you goin’ to do it?”

He says maybe he can see his way to doin’ it.

“All right,” I tell him. “When the porter gets the address you tell him to come over an’ look for me under the clock so’s he can give it to me. My name’s
Thaxby.”

He says all right, he’ll do it.

I go back to Carlette, an’ five or six minutes later we pull in. I said goodbye to her an’ scram because I’ve only got a hand-bag with me, the rest of my luggage havin’
been sent ahead by the Southampton copper on the nine-thirty. When I get to the barrier at the end of the platform there is a middle-sized guy with a raincoat an’ a Derby hat on lookin’
around him. When he sees me he comes my way. I reckon this will be Herrick’s man, Grant.

“Mr. Thaxby?” he says. He drops his voice. “Otherwise Mr. Lemmy Caution of the F.B.I.?”

I tell him yes. He puts out his hand.

“My name’s Grant,” he says. “Detective Sergeant—Special Branch. Mr. Herrick sent me along to meet you. He’s very sorry he has had to go up to Scotland for
three or four days on a big job. He’ll contact you when he comes back. In the meantime I’m at your disposal.”

“That’s fine,” I tell him.

I ask him how he knew I was me. He puts his hand in his raincoat pocket an’ brings out a picture of me, which shows you that these Scotland Yard guys are not such mugs as you would
think.

I start walkin’ over towards the buffet.

“Let’s get a cup of coffee,” I tell him, “after which we’ll get around to Jermyn Street where I have fixed myself an apartment, an’ I’ll have a little
talk to you about this case.”

He says O.K. We go over to the buffet and order the coffee. When it comes I tell him I will be back in a minute, an’ I scram outside, walk across an’ stick around under the clock.
After a minute a porter comes up to me.

“Are you Mr. Thaxby?” he says.

I tell him yes. He gives me a slip of paper an’ a big grin.

“That’s the lady’s address you wanted,” he says.

I say thanks a lot an’ go back to the buffet, an’ when we have finished our coffee we grab a cab an’ get along to Jermyn Street. On the way this Grant guy tells me all about
the war over here. He is a nice sorta guy, pleasant an’ easy to get along with like English coppers always are.

When we get to Jermyn Street I see the night porter, who takes me up to my apartment which I got Herrick to fix for me. I have got a bedroom, sittin’-room an’ bathroom on the third
floor. I tell the porter to send down to Waterloo next mornin’ for my luggage an’ when he has scrammed I open my suitcase an’ take out a bottle of rye.

I reckon I will not waste any time on this job. I give Grant a cigarette an’ a drink.

“How much has Herrick told you about this business?” I ask him.

“Not very much,” he says. “He told me you’d give me the layout; tell me anything you want me to do.”

We take a drink an’ sit down. I say:

“Well, this is the story: Six months ago some guy called Whitaker, who lives in Kansas City, invents a new dive-bomber. This bomber is the berries. It’s got everythin’ that
opens an’ shuts. But Whitaker is a funny sorta guy an’ he’s not gettin’ on with the job of gettin’ the blue-prints out like he oughta.”

Grant grins.

“These inventors are temperamental fellows,” he says.

“You’re tellin’ me,” I say. “O.K. Well, the Navy Department, who is very interested in this airplane, is gettin’ a bit het up with Whitaker for takin’
such a helluva time over the job. They wonder what’s the matter with him. Then some wise guy gets an idea in his head that maybe somebody is gettin’ at Whitaker—you know, fifth
column stuff. So they put some Federal guy on to keep an eye on him, an’ this mug finds out what the trouble was. It wasn’t fifth column, it was woman—just the usual old sorta
woman trouble.”

Grant says: “Maybe, but the Germans could have put the woman in, couldn’t they?”

“You’ve got somethin’ there, pal,” I tell him. “Anyhow, it looks like this guy Whitaker, who has been plannin’ for some time to get hitched up an’
married to some girl in Kansas, has given this baby the air an’ is runnin’ around after some other dame. Three or four days outa every week he is chasin’ around in a high-powered
auto, but the funny thing is that the U.S. operative can’t put his hooks on this dame. He don’t know who she is, see? So he reports back to Washington. Washington don’t worry
very much because on the same da. . .