Miss Callaghan Comes To Grief

The door opened and Benny Perminger wandered in. Caston gave him a quick look and groaned. This was certainly not going to be his day. Benny was looking like something the cat had dug up.

“And what's your trouble?” he asked shortly.

Benny sank into the arm−chair and sighed. “Nice bit that, ain't she?” he said, pursing up his mouth.

Caston frowned. “Who's a nice bit?” he demanded.

“Miss Mackelsfield,” Benny explained. “Lucky guy havin' a secretary like that.”

“Well, I don't know,” Caston said. “What of it?”

Benny closed one eye and leered. “You bachelors,” he said; “I bet you an' she have a grand time.”

Caston sat up stiffly. “Now see here, Perminger, I don't like that kind of talk. This is a business place, and business only is conducted here.”

“Nuts! What kind of business? All you guys do in these offices is to horse around with your secretaries. I know. It's guys like me out in the general office that don't get the chances.”

Caston thought it wise to shift the ground. “Well, you didn't come in here to tell me that, did you?”

Benny's face fell, and he became depressed again. “No,” he admitted, “I didn't. As a matter of fact, Caston, old boy, I came for a little advice.”

Caston smiled. Things were looking up. He liked giving advice. He settled back in his chair and lit a cigarette. “Sure,” he said. “What's the trouble?” For a moment he had a sudden qualm that Benny was going to touch him for some dough, but on second thoughts he knew that wasn't Benny's usual opening when he made a touch.

Benny hung his feet over the side of the chair. “Well, Sadie and I have had a quarrel,” he said bitterly. “She properly shot her mouth off last night.”

Caston made sympathetic noises. “Nice girl, Sadie,” he said. He often wondered why a swell looker like Sadie had fallen for Perminger. He could have gone a long way to have made her himself.

“Sure, she's a nice girl, but she's got a damn odd way of looking at things. Would you believe it, she's accusing me of always lookin' at girls? She even had the neck to say that I'd be makin' a pass at one of them one day.”

Caston shrugged. “Well, won't you?”

Benny looked vacant. “Well, yes, I suppose I will,” he admitted. “But she won't know about it.”

“Listen, Perminger, wasn't that a dame I saw you out with the other night?”

Benny scowled at him. “What else do you think it was?” he snapped. “A horse?”

“Steady, buddy,” Caston said. “No need to go off the deep end. What I meant was, she wasn't Sadie?”

Benny shook his head. “No, she was a business client. She wanted to buy one of our models.”

Caston blew his nose. “I suppose you were taking a fly out of her eye?” he said sarcastically.

“Will you leave it? I want your advice, not a goddamn sermon,” Benny returned. “I've walked out and left Sadie high and dry. What the hell am I going to do?”

“You've left her?” Caston asked, his eyebrows raising. “You crazy or something?”

“I tell you we had a stand−up fight. I couldn't just go to bed after it.”

“You left her all night?” Caston wished he'd known that. He might have called and done himself some good.

“What I want you to bend your brains on is how am I going back?”

Caston shrugged. “Easiest thing in the world. All you do is to walk in, kiss her, tell her you were tight and all will be well.”

Benny stared at him. “Do you really think so?” he asked. “Gee! I wish it would work like that.”

Caston was getting a little bored, anyway. “Sure,” he said, getting up, “you try it. Don't forget, she might be pretty sick about it herself today. You go down there right away. You might find her in.”

Benny got to his feet. “I'll do it. That's mighty white of you, Jack. If there's any little thing”

Caston led him to the door. “On your way, pal,” he said, “and if it works, give her one for me.”

He watched Benny hurry down the corridor before turning back to his office.

15

June 6th, 9.45 a.m.

RAVEN SAT on the edge of his bed and looked round at the three men who stood or leant against the wall opposite him.

There was Lefty, Little Joe and Maltz. For eighteen months these three men had elected to follow Raven, and they had for this period experienced a very thin time. Raven didn't excuse himself. He had just told them to be patient and they had believed him. He had never let them go hungry. Somehow, by dangerous raids, hold−ups and the like, they had managed to make a little money, but all the same they had all had a bad time.

Such was their faith in Raven, however, that they had not grumbled. It was now that he could tell them that their faith in him was justified.

He knew these three men for what they were. There was no spark of human feeling in any of them. They wanted money: not just money, but big money. They didn't care how they got it, but they knew that none of them had the brains to make that money. They knew Raven could make it, so they had been contented to wait.