Books › Blue Book v073 n06 [1941-10], 1941 › scan 5
Scan 5
Blue Book v073 n06 [1941-10], 1941
70 lines. Read by computer on 18 September 2026. No printed page number was found. See the scan on archive.org.
1"Here are the documents in the case of our claim against Foster Beldridge for three hundred thousand dollars, the first subject of settlement," pursued Cavendeen. "You'll find them self-explanatory. And here is a copy of the agreement between us for your signature; I'll call in a notary." Cavendeen pressed a button as he spoke. "That is all, Mr. Hardesty. If you can settle this claim, do so; there is no time limit, there are no conditions. Upon your settlement of this first claim, the next will be presented to you. Do you wish to accept the task?"
3Cavendeen's attitude was anything but sympathetic; Hardesty, nettled, leaped to the alert. Faced by the direct question, he plunged.
5"Yes. What's the joker, if I may ask, in this particular case?"
7"The joker," said Cavendeen flintily, "is that from the moment you present the claim, your life won't be worth a plugged dime; you're undertaking the impossible. Here's the agreement, should you still wish to go through with it."
9A secretary had entered and stood ready with notarial seal. Hardesty, his bewilderment accentuated by the dry, sardonic words, ran his eye over the agreement. It was brief, presenting the contract almost in Cavendeen's words. He took the pen handed him and signed the two copies. The secretary legalized them. Hardesty accepted one and pocketed it with the other papers. The money was in his pocket; the dream was reality.
11OUTSIDE, he took a taxicab to his unpretentious lodgings. The whole transaction with Cavendeen had occupied scarcely twenty minutes—and he had a thousand dollars in his pocket, a hundred thousand more to his account if he could get it.
13Such were the cold facts, indisputable. All because a young woman had noticed him in a hotel lobby and had put him in touch with the right man. All? In his heart he knew better. There was far more to it; just what, he could not tell. "Eight are the gates"… What on earth did those words mean or imply?
15He turned to the documents; there were only three. One was a notation of shipments of tung oil and other products handled by Foster Beldridge, a confidential agent of the Chosan Corporation here in New York, totaling $303,000 over a two-year period.
17Attached was a recent letter to Cavendeen from Beldridge whose office was in a building on [address hidden]; it was curt and clear.
19"Your alleged claim is ridiculous. I shall resist to the limit any such attempt at a holdup, for it is nothing more. Any attempt at legal action will be met as it deserves."
21The third document was his own power of attorney.
23Hardesty regarded these papers with acute dismay. Legally helpless, Cavendeen had said. Why? Business was not conducted in such a manner. Was it possible, reflected Hardesty, that this was really some attempt at a holdup and he had become a tool of crooks? The lack of further information was suspicious; also, it was irritating.
25"What am I supposed to do, send the guy a bill?" he muttered. "Fight him; with what, and how? A desperate venture—my life not worth a plugged dime! What fantastic rot!"
27He went to the telephone and called Larry Gentry, a personal friend, who was a source of varied information in the financial district. Gentry listened to his request and spoke.
29"I've no data on Chosan, Jim; I don't know where you'd get it, though I've heard they're represented here by Cavendeen & Carver, a conservative, highly reputable firm of lawyers. Chosan was a cartel, a huge organization, very active in the Orient. Apparently dropped out of sight a year or so ago. It was supposedly connected with the Chinese government. Sorry to be so vague, but it's out of our line."
31So Cavendeen was highly reputable, eh? Well, that was something learned. And Beldridge? Here he drew blank; Foster Beldridge was unknown.
33Hardesty pocketed his documents and money and went downtown. He reopened his vanished bank-account, enjoyed a hearty luncheon and walked into the building on [address hidden] resolved to take the bull by the horns. He found that Beldridge's office was on the eighteenth floor.
35It proved to be a small single-roomed office with only the name on the door. Hardesty walked in; his man sat at a desk by the window—a tall, lean man of forty, black-haired, with black mustache and a face like an eagle, thinly carved, high-nosed, predatory. He viewed the intruder with keen challenge.
37"Mr. Beldridge, my name's Hardesty. I'm handling some business for the Chosan Import & Export people, and one of their claims is a large one against you."
39To Hardesty's astonishment, Beldridge rose up to his lean length, a smile split the dark features, and he waved his visitor to a chair by the desk. There was no explosion at all.
41"Sit down, Mr. Hardesty! Glad to see you. Have a cigar. Look around you; does this look like the office of a man who has embezzled a quarter of a million or better?"
43Hardesty complied. True, there was not so much as a stenographer; the office was bare. A small bookcase, an ornate calendar on the wall, a filing cabinet and a typewriter on a desk extension—this was all.
45"Well," said Hardesty, "it might look like the office of a man who doesn't let his left hand know what his right dips into. No cigar, thanks."
47For an instant Beldridge's dark eyes lunged at him with vicious probing; then the smile returned; Beldridge resumed his seat, picked up a pencil and played with it as he studied his visitor.
49"You know that this claim is wholly fraudulent, sir? Fraudulent!" he reiterated with emphasis. "That's my position, very simply. You're in the collection business, are you?"
51"No; I'm associated with Chosan only."
53"You surprise me. Chosan is defunct; it was wiped out of existence by the Jap bombings of Chungking and its head offices destroyed." The black brows drew down. "Have you any proof of your connection?"
55Hardesty produced his power of attorney and Beldridge glanced over it.
57"I presume you're an innocent party. At one time I was connected with this outfit; I understand they're operating a hold-up racket against their former agents and so forth. You don't get a red cent out of me, sir."
59"I don't want a red cent," said Hardesty cheerfully. "I'm after $303,000, more or less."
61Beldridge laughed harshly. "You're empowered to make a settlement, eh? Good. Let me have your name and address. I like your spirit. I'm expecting by every mail some reports covering certain claims of my own against Chosan. When they come, I'll get into touch with you. It may be that we can reach an agreement somewhere along the line."
63Complete failure here, Beldridge remained master of the situation, and Hardesty departed with futility to chew upon. And yet, somehow, that bare, one-man office stuck in his mind. It just didn't go with any $303,000 claim; the whole thing looked more cockeyed than ever. And why would Beldridge want to reach any agreement at all, if he were not liable?
65BY evening, Hardesty learned that Beldridge was unknown in the financial district and had no credit rating; why an office in this expensive building, then? No answer. But as he lay awake that night, pondering, something occurred to him with a jerk; that ornate calendar on Beldridge's wall. His memory pictured its semi-nude blonde, and the legend below: Tanahi Trading Company. He leaped out of bed and tried the telephone book. Eureka! The Tanahi Company was on upper Broadway.
67There was the clue; he had only to make certain of it. This he did at nine in the morning, by calling Tanahi and asking for the manager.
69"This is Climax Steel," he said smoothly and rapidly. "We're dealing
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