Free 1984 - Hit Them Where it Hurts by James Hadley Chase Page B

to identify Mr. Thorsen before you parted with the money.’
    ‘But Miss Thorsen has already identified him!’ Ackland spluttered.
    I turned to Rich.
    ‘Is this man Terry Zeigler?’
    Rich stared hard at the longhaired man, then he shook his head.
    ‘He dresses the way Terry dressed, but he is not Terry. I don’t know who the hell he is, but he is not Terry Zeigler.’
    ‘Sure of that, Mr. Rich?’
    ‘Of course, I am sure. Terry worked for me for months. I paid his wages into his hand every week. I don’t know what you’re trying but you have been wasting my time, Wallace,’ and Rich walked out.
    Without giving Ackland time to recover from this shock, I went to the door and signalled to Bill.
    ‘This is Miss Manchini,’ I said. ‘She lived with Terry Thorsen, known to her as Terry Zeigler, for quite a time.’ I turned to Liza who had swept forward, her face alight with anticipation of seeing Terry again. Then she stopped short, staring at the man with the long hair who was glaring at her.
    ‘Miss Manchini,’ I said, ‘is this man Terry Zeigler?’
    Her frustration and disappointment were too genuine to doubt.
    ‘That slob! Terry! Do you imagine I wouldn’t know Terry when I see him again?’
    ‘You are saying this man is not Terry Zeigler?’ I said.
    ‘Yes! Do you think I would go to bed with a slob like this?’ Her voice became shrill. ‘God! I thought I was going to see Terry again,’ and she began to cry.
    Bill, who was standing by her, took a firm grip on her arm and led her out.
    There was a long pause. I looked at the man who was claiming to be Terry. Sweat was running down his face, and his eyes burned with fury. I looked at Angela Thorsen. She was motionless, hidden behind her sun goggles. I looked at Ackland who sat in a heap as if his spine was broken.
    As I expected, Angela was the first to recover and take the initiative. She walked up to Ackland’s desk and stood over him.
    ‘Mr. Ackland,’ she said, her voice harsh, ‘I know this man is my brother. Are you going to tell me you are going to take the word of a cheap nightclub owner and a whore against mine?’
    Nice work, I thought, seeing Ackland’s reaction.
    ‘Of course not, Miss Thorsen, but there must be some mistake,’ he mumbled.
    ‘There is no mistake!’ Angela snapped.
    ‘These two people don’t want Terry to have the money left to him! They are deliberately lying! Please arrange for my brother to be paid!’
    I came to Ackland’s rescue. He looked as if he was going to have a stroke.
    ‘Miss Thorsen!’ I barked in my cop voice. ‘Mr. Ackland has no authority to pay out this money! I am representing Mr. Lewis who is the executor of Miss Angus’s will. I am not satisfied. You say this man is your brother. Two people, who have known your brother for some time, say this man is an impostor. Mr. Ackland will not be given the authority to payout one hundred thousand dollars until I am satisfied this man is really your brother.’
    She turned. I longed to hook off her big sun goggles that completely masked her face, but I could see by her thin, trembling body how furious she was.
    ‘I demand my brother gets the money!’ she said, her voice low and full of hate.
    ‘There is really no problem,’ I said ‘Across the road is the Eden Club. Suppose we all go over there, and I will arrange with the owner, who is a friend of mine, for this guy to sit at the piano and play. If he plays as well as Fats Waller, then he gets the money. Fair enough?’
    The man trying to pass himself off as Terry Zeigler suddenly went berserk.
    ‘I told that fucking slob it wouldn’t work!’ he yelled. ‘I told you, you stupid bitch, it wouldn’t work!’ and shoving by me, he rushed out of the office.
    ‘Well, Mr. Ackland, that seems to be that,’ I said, feeling sorry for him as he sat deflated, his fat face as white as a sheet.
    ‘When Terry Thorsen does turn up, I’ll alert you.’ I looked at Angela who was standing like a statue.