“Years. He’s my friend.”
“You’re lucky. Strange hired him over the cable and sent Jeff sliding like an elephant on ice to deed him up. Strange keeps you busy—pays good, and has his money’s worth. Jeff’s sweated off about two hundred, but there’s lots left. Grim and King got past the sweating stage before Strange hired ’em, so they don’t show it much, but they kind o’ know they’ve made the team.”
“What is Meldrum Strange doing?” asked Ommony.
“Bits of everything. Reorganizing the universe mostly. They say his roll grows faster than he can peel it off; and he’s sore with his brother man—thinks we’re crashing down to the kyoodles——”
“Which?”
“Dogs. Wants to stop it, and has it all figured out, I guess. He started a kind of detective bureau in New York with branches everywhere, and they tell me it went good until he started sleuthing in the U. S. We have legislators over there, the same as everywhere; but there’s more of ’em, and more pork. Strange has his; so he looks back at the barrel and gets disgusted—goes bald-headed after corruption in politics, and sics the gang on.
“Inside three weeks he’s foul of the Senate, House o’ Representatives, Treasury, and every state legislature in the Union. Foul of all the labor unions, most o’ the newspapers, half the courts, and all the banks. They crucified him good between ’em, some just for the fun of it, a few because they were scared, and the rest because they didn’t see why Meldrum Strange’s millions gave him any right to call names.”
“I take it you joined him after this?”
“You bet. I wanted to see the world, but all I’d got was the ambition and an imported camera. I’ve been studying that for seven years, and I’ve learned a little—not much, you understand, but more than some of ’em. A picture concern I was working for went fluey, so I thought I’d pick a fat one next time. Strange looked good to me.”
“But what would he do with a cameraman?” asked Ommony.
“That’s it! He hates ’em. When a man gets money he’s always crazy on some point or other. Strange ’ud rather get shaved than have his picture taken, and he’s worn foliage since he was old enough to smoke cigars. A man in his office told me Strange was all fed up and going to travel. I began to figure on it.”
“It sounds like a difficult sum,” said Ommony.
“No. Just like any other sum. You’ve got to know the formula; then it all works out. None of the papers had Strange’s picture. They were crazy to get it, but he was careful. There’s an alley behind the office, and he can step out of the back door into a limousine, and straight home. He doesn’t golf. He likes yachting, but the crew’s hand-picked, and he stays below as long as there’s a chance to snap him. Simply nothing doing; but I’m set on making the long trip, and down to borrowing by that time—mighty near taking a job, and praying like a priest to Lady Luck. She shows up at the very last minute.”
“Always!” said Ommony, nodding.
“Female, naturally. The papers never did have Strange in a mix-up with a woman. There was a rumor one time,[1] but Strange has teeth and they were afraid he’d soak them for libel. Couldn’t prove a thing; had to be satisfied antagonizing the woman vote by calling him a misogynist—which they did, till further orders.
“I was down to house-to-house canvassing. But I’d a pull with two or three hotel detectives, so I specialized on new arrivals, calling on ’em—camera with me. Funny lights are my long suit. Named a big figure, and agreed to shade it for the privilege of—all that hokum. That’s how I met Zelmira.”
“Sounds Italian,” said Ommony. “Come in to breakfast.”
“Greek,” said Charley, sitting down in the room where all four walls are draped with tiger-skins and the only other ornament is a case of rifles in a corner. “Believe me, Zelmira Poulakis is the goods,” he went on between mouthfulls. “She’s a peach—over thirty, for you can’t fool me, but good to look at—and class if I know it. Must have money, too, if her jewelry and clothes are paid for. I got mine in advance, top-figure, and she didn’t try to beat me down a nickel. I exposed a dozen plates, and we got talking.”
CHARLEY poured a whole cup-full of scalding coffee down his throat and signed to the hamal for more. Then he looked at Ommony, with that peculiar camera-man’s eye that sees effects between the shadow and the edge of sunlight.
“She’s like you,” he said suddenly. “You don’t mind what you tell her. I’ve heard since she had a past in Egypt or somewhere. Her husband was a crook, but that cuts no ice now she’s a widow. I fell for her hard, and got telling how I aimed to see the world with Meldrum Strange. She laughed and said she’d rather do that, too, than anything!
“If she’d been real crooked she’d have started in to play me right then, but she didn’t. I was the Weisenheimer. I told her how set I was on getting Meldrum’s picture, and she laughed. She said that ought to be easy enough. I was wondering just how to play the hand when she suddenly got cold feet and said right out that if I tried to blackmail Meldrum she’d never forgive herself for having as much as encouraged me.”
“I was wondering about that, too,” said Ommony. “Is Strange that kind of man?”
“You needn’t let it worry you!” said Charley, putting down his cup.
“All right,” said Ommony. “I apologize. It was your own fault, though. You might have made it clearer that——”
“Well, I made it clear to her; but I had the dickens of a time. She’s sweet on Meldrum or his money—both maybe; and he might do worse, or buy worse, anyway you look at it. She swore she had no hold on him, but knew him well enough to phone and invite him to call. So after she’d put me through a questionnaire that ’ud make Edison look like Easy Street she agreed to tip me off. I went and lay low near the telephone for two days.”
“I should have thought you’d have made the round of newspaper offices,” ventured Ommony.
“No need. I knew what they'd pay, supposing I was fool enough to spill a good thing. I waited until she phoned me, and you bet I was at the private entrance of that hotel an hour ahead of time. He got there half an hour ahead of time, and made for the door with a flunkey on each side, but I shot him twice and none of ’em saw me. Then I waited another hour and Lady Luck came across. Out comes Strange with Madame Zelmira Poulakis on his arm, both of ’em smiling, and I took one good shot before the flunkeys got wise. They didn’t say a word, but came for me to smash the camera; so I stepped into the hotel, where the detective was a friend of mine, and there wasn’t a thing they could do about it inside there. I guess they said nothing to Meldrum, for fear of their jobs—or if they did, maybe they said they’d smashed the camera.
“Anyway, I didn’t waste any time then. I developed and printed the pictures that night, and believe me, they were good. Next morning I put copies in an envelope with my calling card, and sent ’em up to Meldrum Strange’s private office, saying I’d wait for an answer. It wasn’t five minutes before he sent for me.
“ ‘How much d’you want?’ he demanded.
“He was scornful, and he had his check-book on the table. Got to hand it to him; he can eat crow good. I could have taxed him. He was three ways when I pulled out the negatives and broke them—pleased, surprized, and curious to see what card I’d play next.
“So I made no bones about it. I said right out I aimed to travel with him, and all I’d planned for was an interview. So he said:
“ ‘Well, you’ve had your interview, and you’ve smashed your negatives. What if I turn you down now?’ And I said:
“ ‘Go to it. Then I’ll know