THE GLASS KEY by Dashiell Hammett

He went to the telephone. “Hello. . . . Oh, ‘lo, Paul, where are you? . . . How long will you be there? . . . Yes, fine, drop in on your way. . . . Right, I’ll be here.”

He returned to his mail.

5

Paul Madvig arrived at Ned Beaumont’s rooms as the bells in the grey church across the street were ringing the Angelus. He came in saying heartily: “Howdy, Ned. When’d you get back?” His big body was clothed in grey tweeds.

“Late this morning,” Ned Beaumont replied as they shook hands.

“Make out all right?”

Ned Beaumont showed the edges of his teeth in a contented smile. “I got what I went after–all of it.”

“That’s great.” Madvig threw his hat on a chair and sat on another beside the fireplace.

Ned Beaumont returned to his chair. “Anything happen while I was gone?” he asked as he picked up the half-filled cocktail-glass standing beside ti-me silver shaker on the table at his elbow.

“We got the muddle on the sewer-contract straightened out.”

Ned Beaumont sipped his cocktail and asked: “Have to n-make much of a cut?”

“Too much. There won’t be anything like the profit there ought to be, but that’s better than taking a chance on stirring things up this close to election. We’ll make it up on the street-work next year when the Salem and Chestnut extensions go through.”

Ned Beaumont nodded. He was looking at the blond man’s outstretched crossed ankles. He said: “You oughtn’t to wear silk socks with tweeds.”

Madvig raised a leg straight out to look at the ankle. “No? I like the feel of silk.”

“Then lay off tweeds. Taylor Henry buried?”

“Friday.”

“Go to the funeral?”

“Yes,” Madvig replied and added a little self-consciously: “The Senator suggested it.”

Ned Beaumont put his glass on the table and touched his lips with a white handkerchief taken from the outer breast-pocket of his coat. “How is the Senator?” He looked obliquely at the blond man and did not conceal the amusement in his eyes.

Madvig replied, still somewhat self-consciously: “He’s all right. I spent most of this afternoon up there with him.”

“At his house?”

“Uh-huh .”

“Was the blonde menace there?”

Madvig did not quite frown. He said: “Janet was there.”

Ned Beaumont, putting his handkerchief away, made a choked gurgling sound in his throat and said: “M-m-m. It’s Janet now. Getting anywhere with her?”

Composure came back to Madvig. He said evenly: “I still think I’m going to marry her.”

“Does she know yet that–that your intentions are honorable?”

“For Christ’s sake, Ned!” Madvig protested. “How long are you going to keep me on the witness-stand?”

Ned Beaumont laughed, picked up the silver shaker, shook it, and poured himself another drink. “How do you like the Francis West killing?” he asked when he was sitting back with the glass in his hand.

Madvig seemed puzzled for a moment. Then his face cleared and he said: “Oh, that’s the fellow that got shot on Achland Avenue last night.”

“That’s the fellow.”

A fainter shade of puzzlement returned to Madvig’s blue eyes. He said: “Well, I didn’t know him.”

Ned Beaumont said: “He was one of the witnesses against Walter Ivans’s brother. Now the other witness, Boyd West, is afraid to testify, so the rap falls through.”

“That’s swell,” Madvig said, but by the time the last word had issued from his mouth a doubtful look had come into his eyes. He drew his legs in and leaned forward. “Afraid?” he asked.

“Yes, unless you like scared better.”

Madvig’s face hardened into attentiveness and his eyes became stony blue disks. “What are you getting at, Ned?” he asked in a crisp voice.

Ned Beaumont emptied his glass and set it on the table. “After you told Walt Ivans you couldn’t spring Tim till election was out of the way he took his troubles to Shad O’Rory,” he said in a deliberate monotone, as if reciting a lesson. “Shad sent some of his gorillas around to scare the two Wests out of appearing against Tim. One of them wouldn’t scare and they bumped him off.”

Madvig, scowling, objected: “What the hell does Shad care about Tim Ivans’s troubles?”

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *