Mildred Pierce - James M. Cain [41]
"Wally, now I am going to cry."
"Was I asking if you had four thousand bucks? I know what you've got and what you haven't got, and I'm telling you, if you want it, it's yours."
He leaned down close, looked melodramatically around, as though to make sure nobody could hear. Then, in a low voice: "They've got to establish losses."
"Who?"
"The receivers! On their federal income tax, the return due next March, for the year 1931, they've got to show losses. If they don't, they're sunk. That's why it's yours, for four thousand bucks."
"Wally, I'd still have to have money!"
"Who says you would? That's the beauty of it. Once you take title to a piece of property around this town, that's all they want to know—you can get all the credit you want, more than you can use. You think those supply houses aren't feeling this Depression too? They can't give the stuff away, and all they ask is: Do you own property or not? They'll deliver anything you want, and connect it up for you, too. You need a little cash, two, three hundred dollars, maybe, I can take care of that. All you've got to do is take over that property and get going, quick."
For the first time in her life, Mildred felt the quick, hot excitement of a conspiratorial deal. She comprehended the credit aspect of it, once Wally explained it, and she didn't need to be told how perfect the place was for her purposes. In her mind's eye she could already see the neon sign, a neat blue one, without red or green in it:
MILDRED PIERCE
Chicken Waffles Pies
Free Parking
But it all seemed too good to be true, and when she asked eager questions about it, Wally explained: "There's no catch to it. They're in one hell of a hole. On those other properties, even if they did get rid of one, the federal rulings leave them worse off than they were before. I mean, when we didn't build the houses, even if we had to recapture when the buyer defaulted, there's no way we can show losses. But on this, there's the twenty-five hundred the corporation paid Bert for the lot, that not even a government auditor can question. And there's the eleven thousand five hundred that Bert spent on the house, and the corporation's money, not his. Fourteen grand all together, and if we let you have it for four, there's a loss of ten thousand dollars that just about takes care of every little thing for 1931, and then some."
"But why me?"
"Why not? Who else wants it? Nobody can live in that dump, you know. All Bert was building was a real-estate office, but for some reason nobody seems to want a real-estate office right now. It's got to be somebody that can use it for something else, and that means you."
"I know, but before I get too excited about it, you'd better make sure. Because if they're just giving it away, it looks as though there'd be somebody, on the inside—"
"Oh—I 'see what you mean. As a matter of fact, a couple of them did have that bright idea. I put my foot down. They were original incorporators, and I've dealt with the government enough to - know that if some fast stuff like that was pulled, we'd all land in jail. On a thing like this, it's got to be bona fide, and that's where you come in. If the government agent don't like it, he can go up and see your place, and eat the chicken, and satisfy himself you're using it for the purposes you said you were going to use it for. And then he can take a look at our files and see that we took the best offer we could get. It'll be on the up-and-up. You're no insider. You're no original incorporator. You're-"
He broke off, sat down, and began cursing, first softly, then with rising vehemence. Sensing something wrong, she asked: "What is it, Wally?"
"Bert."
"What's he got to do with it?"
"Original incorporator."
"Well?"