The
Girl With The Gun-Simple Eyes-With Robert Mitchum And Jane Greer’s The Big Steal In Mind
By Zack
James
Duke
Halliday had a funny feeling that he had seen her before, had seen her maybe
one time when he was in Acapulco over by the ocean on other side of Mexico from
where he was now landing in Vera Cruz on the eastern side of this benighted
sweat-filled dusty road bracero country. Yeah she had come up on he from behind
speaking some low-slung Spanish to a bracero that he had pushed aside, pushed
aside hard and she had made her apologies for the whole gringo race to that
besotted bracero and then levelled off and told Duke what was what in proper
schoolteacher or something English. She had not gotten half way through her
schoolmarm berating an errant student when he had had that funny feeling that
while her hair was darker (the result of some man-made potions that as the old
television ad said only her candy man hairdresser would know), she was a little
more shapely and had a couple of small crow’s feet showing around the eyes she
was the spitting imagine of Kathie, Kathie who had tried to kill him, kill him
good as they were heading to Baja California and the good life. Left him on the
side of the road after having just crashed through a police blockade and with
two big slugs in his almost heart leaving him for dead and for taking the fall,
the big step-off fall if it came to that.
That funny
feeling maybe not so funny because when he had seen her the last time she had
already broken his spirit so bad that it would have taken emergency surgery,
maybe more to put the broken pieces back together. The story flashed through
his now fevered brain almost as quickly as it happened. In those days he had
been a private eye, a shamus, and a pretty good one with a partner who maybe
wasn’t so good but who covered his back, mostly. Yeah Duke had been known for
taking no prisoners when he got on a case. Left no untidy pieces and was as
anybody could tell from a quick look at him that he was built for heavy
lifting, could handle himself in a tight corner, and could give and take a few
swift punches. That is what brought him to the attention of Whit Sterling, Whit
the big-time mobster out in Reno. Whit had as most guys, guys including
big-time mobsters a woman problem, had it bad for a piece of fluff named
Kathie. Nothing but a work of art femme fatale and noting but big trouble from
the first day she came out of some ditch in some Podunk looking for the next
best thing with that come hither look of hers and the guys fell right in line.
No heavy lifting for that gal, none. She had for kicks skipped out on Whit with
a chunk of dough, about forty thou, not much today, not much then maybe either
but being a big-time mobster meant no sweet pussy was going to do a dance of
death on him. Not if he expected to stay on top of the totem pole. And so he
hired Duke to find her, bring her back if possible, bring back that fucking
forty thou though even if he had to waste her. That waste her being perhaps necessary
since she carried a very un-ladylike .32 and had used it on some long ago lover
whom she shot dead as a doornail, and walked. Walked when the jury believed
that she had been raped by that guy. Had clipped Whit too when she was in the
process of her escape.
The trail to
Kathie naturally led south to warm sunny cheap living Mexico. Duke had had no
problem finding her, as if she had left bread crumbs to lead him to her. Once
he got a look at her, no, smelled that jasmine something scent she was wearing
and which he could smell/feel a block before she entered the café where an
informant told him she hung out he was a goner. And she seeing those broad
shoulders, that cleft chin, those arms and hands that looked like they could
handle just about anything-except a woman’s gun- took dead aim at her new
protector. They hit the sheets that first night, she almost raping him before
they got to the bed, and they ran around for a while in Mexico before heading
north until Whit got nervous and hired another private eye to ferret them out.
In that confrontation Kathie killed that trailing shamus after he knocked Duke
out. Needless to say Duke was not going to take the fall for her, not on murder
one.
Duke
figuring it was his hard luck that he had picked a gun simple gal dropped out
of sight, went underground really but he didn’t figure that Whit might have
hard feelings about Duke taking his money, and his woman too. But Whit was
built that way and one of his minions found Duke doing short order chef duty in
a dinky café diner outside of Pacifica. Brought him in to see White, and
Kathie. Yeah Whit was a piece of work. But bringing oil and water together was
not good this time as Duke and Kathie linked up again to do in Whit (both
agreeing for their own reasons that Whit had to be done in or else neither life
was worth a penny). Kathie placed two neat slugs into Whit’s heart as they were
leaving. Never even looked back.
As they
headed out in Whit’s automobile for freedom in the Baja they ran into that
police roadblock which they ramped their way through and Duke sensing he was in
for a rough tumble if he ever crossed Kathie decided that he would turn himself
in. Needless to say Kathie did not like that idea and placed two neat slugs in
what she though was Duke’s heart. Doing this with one hand on the steering wheel
the other on bang-bang trigger while she was driving at high speed to boot. Crazy
gun-simple bitch. The commotion though caused the car to crash and Duke jumped
out trying to get the hell away. Kathie lay with her head over the steering
wheel, maybe dead, maybe alive. That was the last he saw of her, the last time
he had been in trouble over a woman after he squared himself with the coppers
on the Whit and private eye beefs.
Now that he
looked at her a second time Duke could see that although she looked very much
like Kathie, and giving a few pounds and years gone by this was not her,
although she did have that gun simple look in her eyes that he had come to fear
but it may have just been coincidence. As for her, as for Joan, she too had
some sneaking feeling that she had met Duke before, had met him up in Reno one
night when she was feeling frisky after a few drinks, after winning a few bucks
at the gaming tables and feeling like she wanted a man that night had picked a
guy with broad shoulders, big hands that knew where to be put them with a
willing woman, and the ability to fend off any guy whom she didn’t want to deal
with once she gave him her best come hither look. He who called himself Jeff
had been built strictly for one night stands which was fine by her that night
as they hit the sheets without even knowing last names, also that night okay
with her. A second look at this guy said behind those sleepy blue eyes and that
granite chin was long-time serious affairs not one night stands. Still given
what her predicament was just then trying to get a couple of thou back from the
last guy who threw her over for some cheap laughing eyes Spanish whore who
probably would give him a sexually transmitted disease those big shoulders,
those hands and those fighter’s eyes would come in handy in case she ran into
trouble with Jim, Jim Fiske if that was his real name.
Duke looked
her up and down and licked his chops and she took note that he ate her up, a
conquest and she wasn’t even wearing her jasmine something scent that was
guaranteed to get from a guy whatever she wanted from sex to heavy-lifting. So
their dance in a dance began. He asked her if she wanted a drink, she accepted
and they went into Senor somebody’s cantina. They drank for a few hours, talked
the talk and headed to her place (he didn’t have a place since he was just off the
boat) and hit the sheets just the way they both figured when they compared
notes in the morning. Here is the funny part, the part that would glue them
together for the duration. Joan had a photograph of that last guy she had
tangled with, the guy who had run out on her on her bedroom table face down.
When Duke turned the frame over and saw one Jim Fiske he flipped out. Pulled
out his revolver and carefully aimed it at Joan. She in turn turned around and
pulled out her own gun. A draw. That was when upon inquiry Duke found out that
Joan and this Fiske had been lovers. Fiske was the guy who had taken a powder
on her. More importantly to Duke this Fiske had waylaid him when he worked for Wells
Fargo and taken some quarter of a million in cash from the bags strapped to his
wrists. Then Joan told her two bit story. Comparing notes they decided to work
together, after another run under the sheets to seal the deal, seal the deal by
request from Joan on this one (Duke was not sure that he cared for her sexual aggression
but she had little tricks that he liked that usually only whorehouse whores
knew).
They
gathered information that Fiske had hit the highway for Mexico City where he
probably would try to convert the cash he had stolen from Duke which any way
one looked at it was hot as a pistol since one did not usually act so foolishly
as to rob a Wells Fargo armored truck or its employees. So they rented a car
and headed west stopping along the way to give a description of the dapper
Fiske who had the look of a solid gringo and not some stinking bracero. They
had some trouble in a small town, really just a trading post and a cantina,
over cashing a check. That is where Duke started buckling a little once Joan
took out her little snub-nosed gun and forced the proprietor to cash the check.
Duke just stood there with his jaw hanging until she told him to wise up and
that they had better vamoose.
Having been
given a description of Jim’s car they hit a little town and noticed a car
fitting Jim’s description being worked on. They waited around for Jim to show
to pick up the car and a couple of hours later he did show up. With a look of
surprise on his face at seeing Joan he sized Duke up and figured that at best
in a mix he would get the worst of it and so he “cut” them in on the robbery
dough not knowing that Duke was the guy whom he had robbed. They travelled
together uneasily until they hit the outskirts of Mexico where they went up a
private road and entered a big hacienda where Senor Blanco was waiting for Jim
to deliver the hot money to fence. Jim took a cool one hundred thou in the
transfer, and was glad to get it. Duke figured he was a goner, could never work
security again. When the trio got outside though before Jim could say to Joan
for them to move on together without Duke Joan coolly put two slugs between his
eyes. He fell like a tree. Joan just as coolly went over to the fallen Jim and
swooped up the dough. Asked if Duke was up for the road ahead. Not sure just
then that he had not played out this scene already he walked toward her and
took the gun out of her hand. Then took her arm as they walked out into the
sunset but the look on his face said he would spent many sleepless nights
watching over his shoulder for the other shoe to fall. Jesus these gun simple
women would kill him yet.
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