1972 - You're Dead Without Money Read Online Free Page B

made his way through the shop, ignoring the Indian girls who were ogling him hopefully and into the hot sunlight of the waterfront.
    For the first time in his life, he felt a lack of confidence and a nagging fear that soon his money would run out. He didn’t want to leave Paradise City. He wanted to be with Cindy. But what was he to do? He knew a warning when he was given a warning and Abe Levi had shown him the red light.
    With lagging steps, he walked to where he had parked the Jaguar.
     

Two
     
    A middle aged, fat, blonde woman, followed by a man who could have been her husband came into the bar. They climbed up on stools and ordered whisky on the rocks. The man, weedy, balding, wearing a bush jacket and crumpled khaki slacks divested himself of two expensive looking cameras which were festooned around his neck. He stared around and his eyes finally came to rest on Barney who was putting away the third tier of his second hamburger.
    The weedy man nudged the fat blonde who swivelled her head and eyed Barney, her pale blue eyes popping. This woman had managed to wedge her enormous hips into a pair of flame coloured shorts. I felt that any extra movement from her would make the shorts give at the seams. Over her vast frontage, she had on a lightweight sweater with a pattern of orange rings against a white background.
    ‘One of the local characters, Tim,’ she said in a loud whisper. ‘I love this City. You can’t move a yard without finding something exciting to look at.’
    Barney looked a little smug.
    ‘You know, Mr. Campbell, people notice me,’ he said. ‘Mr. Dulac is right. I am a tourist attraction.’ He pointed his big finger at my chest. ‘I’ll bet you a nickel before those two leave, the punk will want to take my photograph.’
    I said it was a bet, but how about getting on with this story of his?
    Barney nodded.
    ‘Yeah . . . well, you know about Joey, Cindy and Vin. We’ll leave them for the moment with the outlook for Vin bleak. He could, of course, have moved on to Jacksonville and tried his luck there, but he now had this rooted idea that he had to pull off the big one so he could settle with Cindy and Joey for at least a couple of years before looking for another job, and he knew Paradise City was about the only city apart from Miami where you could find loot worth fifty thousand bucks in one quick, safe steal.’
    Seeing the fat woman was still gaping at him, Barney wigwagged with his bushy eyebrows and gave her a leering grin. The woman looked hastily away and leaning close to her husband, she began to whisper.
    ‘She’s a little shy,’ Barney said. ‘You wait. They’ll be over here wanting my photo.’ As I said nothing, he went on, ‘Now I’ll tell you about Don Elliot. You’ve seen plenty of pictures of him: a tall, well-built guy, handsome, dark and with that sexy look most women can’t resist.
    ‘When Errol Flynn kicked off, there was an opening for a movie actor to take his place. Pacific Pictures had Elliot under contract and they realized, with careful grooming, they could move him into Flynn’s market. They groomed him and he delivered. His first three movies went well and did big box office. He was a mixture of Flynn and Fairbanks senior. As you said, no actor, but a good cut and thrust merchant. His agent, Sol Lewishon, was smart enough to get Elliot on a percentage deal after the third movie and Elliot really moved into the dough. Like most movie stars, he was a heavy spender.’
    Barney paused to eat the last of the hamburger. ‘It’s an odd thing with these movie people. They have this inferiority complex. You know what I mean?’ He stared at me with his small, calculating eyes. ‘They think if they don’t live it up the rest of the world will think they’re cheapies. They have to have big cars, flash women, big houses, swimming pools. They have to throw their money around. Elliot was like that. He came to Paradise City and built a villa up on the hill and this