Hard Case Crime: Blackmailer by George Axelrod Page B

her forehead to be kissed. I kissed it. Miss Dennison’s eyes bulged.
    “Dick, darling,” Janis said in her movie voice. “I hope you’re not too terribly busy.”
    “Busy?” I said. “How could I possibly be too busy?”
    “Grand,” Janis said. “Then you can take me to lunch.”
    “All right,” I said.
    I turned to Miss Dennison. “If anybody calls I’m having lunch at—” I turned to Janis. “Where will we eat?”
    “Twenty One?”
    I shook my head. I wanted to talk to Janis. I wanted very much to have a long talk with her. And it would be so noisy in Twenty One—when they were throwing Lorraine Carstairs and Pat out.
    “Voisin?” I said.
    “All right.”
    “We’ll be at Voisin,” I told Miss Dennison. Then I took Janis’ arm and steered her toward the elevators. We did not talk going down in the elevator. In the cab I lit our cigarettes and Janis said, “I’m so sorry about last night, Dick.”
    “That’s all right. I take it this is pretty much a business lunch?”
    Janis raised her eyebrows.
    “I assume you want to sell me the book CharlesAnstruther finished before he died. Everybody else does.”
    “I’d like to have you publish it, Dick. It’s the least I can do. After all, we were pretty good friends once.”
    “You don’t have to do me any favors.”
    “Please, Dick.”
    We were quiet for a minute or two, then, suddenly, I reached over and took her hand. “Darling, what are you doing?” I said. “What are you getting mixed up in? Walter’s a crook. I don’t know anything about your friend Max, but he doesn’t sound like such good company for a little girl. What are you trying to prove? Why don’t you just make movies?”
    “I’m not mixed up in anything, Dick. I bought a piece of the Anstruther book on the advice of my manager. It’s a sound investment and it works out very well tax-wise. What makes you think I’m mixed up in anything?”
    We got out of the cab at the corner of Park.
    “We both know a girl was killed at Walter’s last night,” I said as we crossed the street. “Something’s going on. And it has something to do with the book.”
    “I don’t know, Dick,” Janis said. “Sometimes I don’t know.”
    At Voisin we were rushed to a table.
    We ordered drinks, and sat in silence until the waiter returned. Then I said, “Tell me about Max. It’s very important, darling.”
    “What about him?”
    “Don’t fence with me, Janis. Who is he? Where didhe come from? Was he really a gangster? How does he happen to be your manager or agent or whatever he is? And how come you’re going to marry him?”
    “I’m going to marry him because I love him,” Janis said. “He’s my manager and agent because he was the only person in Hollywood who believed in me. You can’t possibly know what he did for me. Got me parts. Loaned me money. Introduced me to important people. I get sixty thousand dollars a picture now, darling. And Max did it. He did it all.”
    “You’re out of your mind,” I said. “You did it. You’re beautiful and talented. You’d be making whatever it is you make a picture without him.”
    I was interrupted by the captain, who appeared with a telephone which he plugged in at the table.
    “Excuse me, darling,” Janis said.
    I could hear the voice at the other end. It was a harsh, guttural, nasty voice. It was the same voice that had called me on the phone the night before.
    They talked for a moment and then Janis laughed at something he said.
    I felt sick.
    I stood up, reached into my pocket for my wallet. All I had were two singles and two twenty-dollar bills. I dropped one of the twenties on the table.
    “The hell with it,” I said. “I’m not interested now.”
    “Excuse me,” Janis said into the phone. “I’ll talk to you later.” She replaced the receiver. “What’s the matter, Dick?”
    “The hell with it,” I said. “Tell Walter and Max they can take their big deal somewhere else. I’m not interested. And all of a