Black Mask (Vol. 7, No. 5 — April 1950), British Edition

“I saw Owens Saturday night. He offered me a job. Twenty-five percent more than you pay me. Plus a cut on rewards and big fees.”

That statement was no more than two-thirds true. Owens had offered me a job. He had offered me a slight percentage of the fees. But the salary was the same as I drew now. However, I saw no point in being too literal.

Sackler said, “Judas!” He buried his face in his hands and gave the general impression that my betrayal was more than he could bear.

I knew better. I did not doubt that he was suffering. But I know quite well that his agony was engendered by the fact that I was conducting an assault, upon his bank account.

In spite of the fact that his income ran well into five figures, he dwelt in a shabby, furnished room on the upper West side. He possessed three frayed suits. His only hat was a shapeless blob of felt.

His meals were consumed in a coffee pot which prepared all its food in a lard encrusted frying pan. His annual expense for amusement and miscellaneous was nil.

Each Wednesday he paid me what we laughingly called a salary; then devised various sure-thing gambling games in order to win it back. He succeeded more often than not.

His head was still bowed in sorrow at my perfidy when the door opened and Campbell Parry walked in. Of course, I didn’t know his name then.

He was a short man of middle age. His hair was graying and he wore a pair of gold rimmed glasses. His eyes were diluted blue, his chin weak and his manner deferential. He coughed quietly and Sackler took his head out of his hands.

Parry said, “Mr. Sackler, I have a small commission for you, if you will accept it.”

Sackler stared at him. His nostrils twitched as if he were smelling money, which as a matter of fact he was. It was then that Parry told us his name and sat down gingerly on the edge of the chair by Sackler’s desk.

“It is a small matter,” he said. “But I am willing to pay you five hundred dollars for some advice which you can give me in less than fifteen minutes.”

The melancholy fled Sackler’s face. I frowned and mentally kicked myself for not having insisted on a percentage of fees before Parry had come in.

“Of course,” said Sackler, beaming. “Of course. Any advice at all which my humble talent may produce is yours.”

“Well,” said Parry, “I want to go away. The question is where.”

“Virginia Beach,” I said. “And the suggestion is free.”

Parry said, “You do not understand. I don’t want to go away for a vacation. I want to go away forever.”

Even Sackler seemed puzzled now. Parry sighed.

“Look,” he said. “I have a wife and a son. I also have a monotonous job as an executive with a trucking company. I live in the suburbs, which bores me. My wife nags constantly. In short, I’m sick of life — at least the kind of a life I lead. I want to start all over again. From scratch.”

Sackler nodded. “In other words you want to run away from your wife and family.”

Parry nodded emphatically. “And my job and my home and the dull bridge and cocktail parties.”

I stared at him incredulously. If he wanted to scram why didn’t he just do it? Why offer Sackler five hundred bucks to tell him where to go? I lit a cigarette and said as much.

Parry shook his head at me. “It’s not that easy,” he said. “I’ve read several articles lately. Not only is the Missing Persons Bureau always keeping an eye out for escaping husbands but there are several private agencies who specialize in the same thing. I’ve heard they’re most efficient.”

Understanding was now in Sackler’s game. “Ah,” he said, “you want me to tell you how to avoid being caught, how to keep away from the police and the private agencies your wife will employ?”

“Exactly,” said Parry. “You, as a detective, should know all the methods used by such agencies. You can tell me how to keep out of their way.”

Sackler looked like a child who has fallen into an ice cream freezer. There may be simpler ways of making five hundred dollars but I had never heard of them. I tried to throw a monkey wrench into the proceedings.

“Just scram,” I said. “As far as possible. Keep out of trouble with the coppers and it’s ten to one no one will ever find you.”

Sackler glared at me, then, remembering he had an audience, adopted a superior and pitying smile.

“That sort of advice will lose us all our clients, Joey,” he said. He turned to Parry. “This is the proper procedure. First, select a town with a population of about a hundred thousand. In a small place the inhabitants are too inquisitive. Second communicate with no one. No one at all. Third, do you have any hobbies or particular forms of amusement?”

Parry considered this for a moment. “Well,” he said at last, “I’m fond of bowling and I’m nuts about chop suey.”