Meet Jimmy Strange by Ernest Dudley

Author:Ernest Dudley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, crime, suspense, murder, short stories
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2015-02-17T00:00:00+00:00

THE QUEER FISH

“At the risk of sounding old-fashioned, I’ve come to the conclusion a girl shouldn’t let herself be made love to—except by the man she’s going to marry.”

Sandra gave Jimmy a sidelong glance from beneath her heavy eyelashes and carried on with the repair work on her make-up, Despite the jolting of the taxi which bore them through the narrow streets of London’s Dockland she manipulated her lipstick deftly.

Jimmy, who’d been responsible for the damage she was renovating, regarded her with a raised eyebrow. He hadn’t noticed that the resistance she’d put up against his advances had been altogether insurmountable.

He said: “Why this sudden change of mood?”

“Isn’t fair to my husband,” she said.

He stared at her. “But you haven’t got a husband—or would this be something you’ve been holding out on me?”

She said: “I shall have a husband sooner or later,” and gave him a look.

He decided the glint in her lovely eyes was of a dangerously speculative nature. He coughed and lit a cigarette.

She went on: “And he might be jealous.” She put a hand on his arm. “Don’t think I don’t like you, darling. I do. Or that I’ve forgotten what you did for Philip—”

He cut her short. “Forget it.”

Her smile was tender.

“Trouble is I’m growing fond of you, Jimmy. And a girl doesn’t want to get too fond of—”

“Of a guy like me?”

“Well…you wouldn’t describe yourself as the marrying type exactly. Or would you?”

He grinned at her amiably. His answer she knew lay in that disarming smile that caught at her heart. She gave a little sigh, then said brightly, “Cigarette?”

He lit one for her.

They’d been seeing her brother off from Tilbury. After the ship bearing him to South Africa had slid down-river into the gathering dusk, Jimmy had suggested a place to drink a bon voyage to Philip— this being as good excuse as any he could think up for the double Scotch he was in need of. And so the taxi was bound for the ‘Queer Fish’, that picturesque little dockside pub and caravanserai for all travellers of the seven seas. They were drawing up outside it now.

Jimmy led the way, pushing through the swing-doors.

A babel of voices and clink of glasses greeted them. Tobacco smoke and the fumes of liquor stung Sandra’s eyes. Jimmy indicated the walls crowded with curios and souvenirs bartered for refreshment by customers over many thirsty years.

“Comic-looking place, eh?”

Sandra was eyeing a swarthy-looking character lounging near the door. He had a scar that ran from ear to mouth.

“I—I don’t know that it’s at all funny!” she said, with some apprehension.

“Mustn’t judge by appearances. It’s a good spot really.”

“You’ve been here often?”

“Now and again. The owner’s a pal of mine. You’ll like him. Nice chap—even though some of his customers are rather odd.”

“Let’s sit in this corner and hope for the best, anyway.”

“He keeps a good brand of whisky.”

“So that’s the attraction?” She smiled up at him.

“He’s got a pretty daughter, too, ’matter of fact.”

“Nice for him!”

“And for the customers,” he said.

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