Free 1968 - An Ear to the Ground by James Hadley Chase Page A

big hooked nose, small, dark, tough looking eyes and the magic only the real top executives have that come from them like a laser ray.
    As Harry walked across the forty-foot carpet before he finally arrived at Cohen’s desk which was big enough to play billiards on, Cohen leaned back on his high executive chair and studied him. By the time Harry reached the desk, his knees were knocking together and he was sweating cold sweat.
    Cohen’s fat face was a hard mask: an unnerving face. Harry thought wildly that this could be a dead face, then the face broke into a wide beaming smile and Cohen became transformed from a ruthless tycoon to a jovial, fat Jew who wouldn’t hurt a fly.
    ‘You Harry Lewis?’ he said, getting to his feet.
    Harry gaped at him. The transformation threw him hopelessly out of his stride.
    ‘Y-yes, sir.’
    ‘Sit down, boy. First, let me shake your hand.’
    Dazed, Harry felt the small hard hand grip his, then as Cohen waved to a chair opposite his desk, he almost collapsed into it.
    ‘So you’re Harry Lewis.’ Cohen regarded him, smiling, then he nodded. ‘Quite a boy! Well! Well! I always knew Lisa could pick ‘em. Now listen, Harry, I’ve got a busy day. People keep worrying me. When you ran a business the way I ran this business, you’re like a goddam slave, so we’ll have to make this a quickie. Maybe when I take a vacation, we’ll get together and have fun . . . huh?’
    Harry just stared at him.
    ‘You want a cigar?’ Cohen asked.
    ‘No-no, thank you, sir.’
    ‘Okay, Harry, let’s get at it. Tell me, how do you like the idea of me being your father-in-law?’
    Harry thought: One of us must be mad! I guess it must be me!
    ‘Surprised? Didn’t Lisa tell you?’ Cohen laughed. ‘My little girl loves you . . . you love her . . . so . . . okay. She wants to marry you and when Lisa wants anything, she gets it.’ Cohen wagged his head, his expression rueful. ‘I’ll tell you something, Harry, she’s got me wrapped around her finger. But I like the idea of Lisa getting married. I want grandchildren. You know something, Harry? I like little kids. It’s the Jew in me. Besides, I’m not going to last forever and I want to leave my dough to Lisa and after her to three or four or even five boys. See?’
    Harry was speechless. He just sat there, sweat beading his face, his heart thumping, his mouth half-open.
    ‘I’ve been checking on your record, Harry,’ Cohen went on. ‘No great shakes, huh? Six thousand . . . nothing, but according to Lisa you’ve got something pretty special.’ He gave a leering laugh, ‘And Lisa likes it. Between you and me . . . how was she?’
    Harry reared back, feeling blood rash to his face.
    ‘I’d rather. . . I. . . I. . .’
    Cohen waved his hand.
    ‘Okay, boy. . . I like that. . . shows class,’ he said. ‘Forget it. . . sure, that’s something a classy guy doesn’t talk about. Well now, Harry, I’ve got to rush this. I’ve a full day. Just listen: Lisa wants to get married at the end of the month. I’ve already got a replacement for you at the store. That’ll give you a chance to help Lisa find a house. She’s struck with Paradise City and wants to settle there. I’ll miss her here, but when Lisa wants anything, she damn well gets it. So she’ll look around and she’ll find a house. You must be around to help her. The house and everything that goes with it. . . the furniture . . . the cars . . . you know, is all on me. I’m opening a bank account down there with the Florida Deposit in your joint names . . . just to start you two off right. Two hundred and fifty thousand. When the account begins to ran low — and knowing Lisa — it’ll ran low — I’ll keep it topped up. You have nothing to worry about. When you get back, go along to the bank and draw some money. Buy some clothes. When you go around with Lisa you’ve got to look good.’ The telephone bell buzzed and Cohen scowled. When he scowled, Harry shivered. It was a