Double Indemnity - James M. Cain [11]
I had to come through. I knew that. I wouldn't have, if it didn't make me so nervous to be around her, but all I could think of now was to say yes and get them out of there. "How much do you want?"
"He thought if he could get $250, that would be enough."
"I see. I see."
I figured it up. With charges, it would amount to around $285, and it was an awfully big loan on the car he was going to put up. "Well—give me a day or two on it. I think we can manage it."
They went out, and then she ducked back. "You're awfully nice to me. I don't know why I keep bothering you about things."
"That's all right, Miss Nirdlinger, I'm glad—"
"You can call me Lola, if you want to."
"Thanks, I'll be glad to help any time I can."
"This is secret, too."
"Yes, I know."
"I'm terribly grateful, Mr. Huff."
"Thanks—Lola."
The accident policy came through a couple of days later. That meant I had to get his check for it, and get it right away, so the dates would correspond. You understand, I wasn't going to deliver the accident policy, to him. That would go to Phyllis, and she would find it later, in his safe deposit box. And I wasn't going to tell him anything about it. Just the same, I had to get his check, in the exact amount of the policy, so later on, when they checked up his stubs and his cancelled checks, they would find he had paid for it himself. That would check with the application in our files, and it would also check with those trips I had made to his office, if they put me on the spot.
I went in on him pretty worried, and shut the door on his secretary, and got down to brass tacks right away. "Mr. Nirdlinger, I'm in a hole, and I'm wondering if you'll help me out."
"Well I don't know. I don't know. What is it?" He was expecting a touch and I wanted him to be expecting a touch. "It's pretty bad."
"Suppose you tell me."
"I've charged you too much for your insurance. For that automobile stuff."
He burst out laughing. "Is that all? I thought you wanted to borrow money."
"Oh. No. Nothing like that. It's worse—from my point of
view."
"Do I get a refund?"
"Why sure."
"Then it's better—from my point of view."
"It isn't as simple as that. This is the trouble, Mr. Nirdlinger. There's a board, in our business, that was formed to stop cut-throating on rates, and see to it that every company charges a rate sufficient to protect the policy holder, and that's the board I'm in dutch with. Because here recently, they've made it a rule that every case, every case, mind you, where there's an alleged mischarge by an agent, is to be investigated by them, and you can see where that puts me. And you too, in a way. Because they'll have me up for fifteen different hearings, and come around pestering you till you don't know what your name is—and all because I looked up the wrong rate in the book when I was out to your house that night, and never found it out till this morning when I checked over my month's accounts."
"And what do you want me to do?"
"There's one way I can fix it. Your check, of course, was deposited, and there's nothing to do about that. But if you'll let me give you cash for the check you gave me—$79.52—I've got it right here with me—and give me a new check for the correct amount—$58.60—then that'll balance it, and they'll have nothing to investigate."
"How do you mean, balance it?"
"Well, you see, in multiple-card bookkeeping—oh well, it's so complicated I don't even know if I understand it myself. Anyway, that's what our cashier tells me. It's the way they make their entries."
"I see."
He looked out the window and I saw a funny look come in his eye. "Well—all right. I don't know why not."
I gave him the cash and took his check. It was all hooey. We've got a board, but it doesn't bother with agents' mistakes. It governs rates. I don't even know if there's such a thing as multiple-card bookkeeping, and I never talked with our cashier. I just figured that when you offer a man about twenty bucks more than he thought