Well Now My Pretty

She abruptly decided if this little man was really planning to rob the Casino, she didn't want to know about it. But she did want another one thousand dollars. She hesitated for perhaps seventy seconds, then she nodded.

But it wasn't easy. Finally, she did manage to get the blueprint he needed. This was only because she had access to the general office files when she happened to work there during the day for the extra money. This smiling little man had shown his brilliance when he had chosen her to help him. But this man, whose real name was Serge Maisky, was as cunning and as dangerous as a snake. He had come to Paradise City ten months ago. He had watched and inquired discreetly about the four girls who worked in the Casino's vault. He had finally decided to concentrate on this attractive little blonde whose name was Lana Evans. His selection proved that his instinct and judgement were faultless. Lana Evans was to give him the key to the biggest and most spectacular Casino robbery in the history of all Casino robberies.

So now, here they were, face to face, surrounded by a milling crowd of tourists in the dim-lighted Aquarium that housed, among many fish, performing dolphins. He smiled at her, taking her hand in his dry claw and leading her away from the mob to the comparative quietness of a tank that contained a bored, sad- looking octopus.

"Were you successful?"

His smile was as immaculate as his clothes, but Lana Evans could sense his desperate anxiety, and this anxiety made her frightened.

She nodded.

"Splendid." His anxiety turned off like the change from red to green of a traffic light. "I have the money . . . all of it. One thousand beautiful dollars." The grey eyes swept past her, examining the faces of the tourists near them. "Give it to me."

"The money first," Lana Evans said breathlessly. She was very frightened and the dank atmosphere of the cave made her feel faint.

"Of course." He took a fat envelope from his hip pocket. "It is all here. Don't count it now, my pretty. People will see you. Where are the blueprints?"

Her fingers closed over the envelope, feeling the crinkling of the bills, out of sight, but now in her grasp. For a brief moment she wondered if he were cheating her, but decided to take the risk. There seemed a lot of money in the envelope. She wanted to get this dangerous transaction finished quickly. She gave him the blueprint, several pages of complicated electrical wiring that covered all the fuse boxes of the Casino's lighting circuit, the air-conditioning system and the many burglar alarms. He took a very quick look at the pages, half turning, sharing his inspection with the octopus that moved away, taking shelter behind a rock.

"There . . ." He put her betrayal into his hip pocket. "Now we have completed a very happy transaction." He smiled, his slate-grey eyes suddenly remote as buttons of dirty snow. "Oh . . . one more thing . . ."

"No!" Her voice sharpened. "Nothing more! I don't care . . ."

"Please." He raised his hand, placating, soothing. "I'm not asking for anything more. I am very satisfied. You have been so co-operative, so pleasant to work with, so reliable . . . may I make my own personal contribution . . . a modest, trifling gift?" From his pocket, he took a small square packet, neatly tied with red and gold ribbon with a gold label bearing the magic name Diana. "Please accept this . . . a pretty girl like you should take care of her hands."

She took the packet, startled by this unexpected kindness. Diana hand cream was created and manufactured only for the very rich. Holding the packet in her hand, she felt even richer than he had made her feel when he had given her the envelope.

"Why . . . oh, thanks . . ."

"Thank you, my pretty . . . goodbye."

He melted into the crowd like a small, kindly ghost: one moment he was smiling at her, the next he was gone. He disappeared so quickly, it was hard to believe he had ever been standing before her.A large, red-faced man wearing a yellow and blue flowered shirt appeared before her, grinning.

"I'm Thompson from Minneapolis," he said in a loud, booming voice. "Have you seen those goddam dolphins? Never seen anything like them in my life!"

She stared blankly at him and edged away, then, when she was sure she was out of reach of his hands, she turned and made her way quietly towards the exit, clutching on to the small box of hand cream in which lay her death.

* * *

They came to Paradise City, separately, stealthily, like cautious rats coming out into the sunlight.