Read 1955 - You've Got It Coming for Free Online Page B

seemed to Ben to be the ultimate peak of a successful career. He had been considerably taken aback when he had received estimates from the leading yacht builders: the amount the thieves wanted to build him a yacht to his specifications astounded him. Looking at the sum he had to spare after he had taken care of his living expenses, he reckoned that he would need at least an additional million dollars if he were to order the yacht this year, and where the hell was a lump of money like that coming from?
    He was pondering the problem when the squawk box on his desk crackled into life.
    “There's a Miss Dane asking for you, Mr. Delaney,” his secretary said. “Miss Glorie Dane.”
    Ben didn't even look up from his calculations.
    “I don't know her and I don't want to. Tell her I'm tied up.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The squawk box went dead.
    But as Ben flicked through his bank pass sheets, he repeated the name in his mind. Glorie . . . He reached out on an impulse and pressed down the switch on the squawk box.
    “Did you say Glorie Dane?”
    “Yes, Mr. Delaney. She says it's personal and urgent.”
    Ben grimaced.
    That sounded like a touch. He hesitated, then remembering the times he had had with Glorie, he decided to see her. They had been good times. Then he hadn't a care in the world. He hadn't had ulcers nor a kingdom that wanted watching every minute of the day and night.
    “Okay, shoot her in. I'll give her ten minutes. Come in and break it up when I ring.”
    “Yes, Mr. Delaney.”
    He shoved aside the papers that littered his desk, lit a cigar, got up and walked over to the window. He stared down at the immaculately kept beds and the last roses in bloom, then he shifted his eyes to the swimming pool that, during the winter months, was completely glassed in with the water raised to a temperature of seventy-five degrees. He could see Fay standing on the diving board, adjusting her red bathing cap. He took in her beautifully proportioned body, her long sun-tanned legs and he nodded his approval. Maybe she was a dim-brain, he thought, but she had what it takes. She cost him plenty, but in bed she was not only enthusiastic, but extremely efficient, and besides, men envied him his possession, and Ben liked nothing better than to be envied.
    He turned around as he heard the door open. His dark, good-looking secretary said, “Miss Dane,” in her most snooty manner and stood aside as Glorie came into the room.
    Ben stared at her, immediately regretting his impulse to see her. Surely this tired-looking, pale-faced woman couldn't be Glorie?
    Why, for the love of mike, she looked old enough to be Fay's mother! And her clothes! She had certainly come down in the world. This was certain to be a touch.
    The many photographs she had seen of Ben in the Press had prepared Glorie for the change in him, but even so she had a shock.
    It wasn't so much that he was now pot-bellied, that his hair was thin and had white streaks in it. That was to be expected. He must be fifty-three or four now, but what shocked her was the expressionless face that when she knew him was always alert and lively and sun tanned, and which was now as white as cold mutton and a mask. His eyes scared her: they were granite hard and restless like the eyes of a vulture.
    “What is it?” Ben said curtly, determined to cut this interview short. “I have a whale of a lot to do. I wouldn't have seen you only I didn't want to turn you away without having a word. What is it?”
    Glorie felt herself go red, then white. He might at least have shown a little friendliness, asked her to sit down, asked her how she was.
    She decided on shock tactics. She had to get his interest before he hustled her out of the room as she felt he was likely to “Would you be interested in a consignment of diamonds worth three million dollars?” she asked.
    His face remained a set, white mask, but by the way he cocked his head on one side she knew she had caught his interest.
    She hadn't