Kewpie looked glum and said: “We lost out some way at the Club. Rucci told me had made other arrangements. I meauwed about us getting no notice and he said that was just too bad and for me to take it up with the union. Hell, I didn’t put in my card when I came. I’ve been here three months and nobody’s asked me for one.”
I said: “No need of us going out then,” and shook my head at Lester, meaning for him to say nothing.
He got the idea, for once, and didn’t. Kewpie looked thoughtfully after the doctor, then at my taped ear, and said:
“Didn’t hit you bad, eh?”
“What d’ya mean?”
“So you won’t talk. I heard about it and wondered if you were going to crack, is all. I heard that somebody got shot at on the street.”
“Where’d you hear it?”
I was worried by then. I thought maybe it was common gossip. He made it all right when he said: “I know the news dealer where it happened. He’d seen you and me together and told me about it. He said you’d been gone five minutes before he figured what had happened and that you owed him two bits for the Cosmopolitan you’d taken with you.”
“Did you pay it?”
“I should pay your bills?”
I told him what had happened, blaming it on some kid playing around not knowing what he was doing, and Kewpie said: “Sure, that’s your story. I won’t crack, Shean, but I saw those two bricks. Some bastard was aiming for your head and you can’t tell me different.”
“Maybe so, Kewpie. I don’t know why.” He said earnestly: “Now look, Shean! You and I have worked together a couple of times. I’ve known you quite a while. If I can help, I’ll do it and you know it.” I said: “I catch!”
Lester had been listening to this. He poured out two drinks, one for me and one for Kewpie, and said: “Here you are,” beaming at both of us.
It was right about that time that he decided Kewpie was a good guy; I could have told him that and did, all the time. You learn about people when you work with them.
Chapter Ten
My girl turned out to be a Spanish-looking brunette. Very snaky and very pretty. But she talked as though her mouth were full of mush, which spoiled the effect, and I wished to God I’d tried the fourth number on the list before I’d tried hers. Mrs. Hazel George-Wolff-Heber was about as I had her picked. Just a big good-natured wench that couldn’t keep her hands off any man, regardless of size, age, or color. She kept telling Lester that she adored men who wore glasses, because they looked so distinguished. She told me she adored music and musicians. She made pig eyes at the good-looking cab driver who drove us out to the Three C Club and she did everything but climb over the bar after the bar man who served us the first drink when we got there.
Just a good kid... but a bit worn. I couldn’t tell whether the gargling effect my tart put on or Hazel’s giggles were the worse; both got on my nerves before we’d got once around the track.
We moved in the back room and took a look at the man that followed me on the job, and Hazel leaned over and patted me on the cheek and said: “He doesn’t play half as well as you do, honey. Tee-hee-hee!”
Lester said the same, very loyally. My bitch, who gargled, yessed on it. For that matter, I didn’t think he did myself, so we were all even. Then Rucci came over to the booth, smiling and shaking his head, and said:
“Why, Connell! I was told you were leaving. I hired this other man in your place, as I told Kewpie.”
“Who told you?” I asked.
He made a pretense of trying to remember and finally said he didn’t remember; that he’d been around all that day and had met so many people. He’d hired the new man to be sure he’d have music and so on. He was very nice... too nice... and brought a round of drinks before he hurried away.
The phone booths were by the hall leading to the men’s room and as soon as he dashed into one I made the sneak. He hadn’t the door quite closed when I went by and I could hear him say to somebody: “I tell you he’s here now. Right now. In a party. There’s the Heber, that kid,...”
I couldn’t stand there and listen so I went on. I went back to the booth and by and by the two girls went to powder their noses. I said to Lester:
“You wanted to be a cop, didn’t you?”
He said: “Sure!” and took off his glasses and started to polish them. I said: “You’d better leave them on, kid, and get the hell out of here with these two women, or you’re going to find out that a cop leads a hard life.”
He brightened and said: “Is it trouble, Shean? Is it trouble?”
“With a capital T, I think. I’m on a spot.”
He said firmly: “We’ll send the girls home and I’ll stay with you, of course. You should know that.”
I said: “I know it. I told you because I knew I couldn’t get rid of you just telling you to go and giving you no reason. At least you know what to expect.”
“What will happen?”
I said: “Dope! Here it comes now.”
Three men were heading for the booth, coming across the dance floor and walking as though they were more used to sawdust under their feet. All three looked like saloon bouncers. That type. The one in the lead was a big burly red-faced bird that would have weighed at least two-fifty stripped to the buff. We had two ashtrays, heavy glass affairs, on the table and I palmed the one nearest me and stood up and got clear of the booth. The big guy said:
“You’re Connell!” out of the side of his mouth and he didn’t make it any question.
I said: “Sure!” and hit him in the face with the tray.
That worked just fine and dandy. He went back and down, skidding across the floor and upsetting the one right back of him. The one left side-stepped them and came toward me fast, swinging something in his hand, and I got a couple of feet farther away from the booth so that I’d have room to work in. He cut at me with what he held and I saw it was a sap, even as he swung it. I got in closer than he thought I could in the time I had and I hit him just a little lower than the belly and as hard as I could land.
That worked, also. He doubled up, dropping the sap, and I brought my knee up in his face. He went down and out.
And then I turned and saw something funny. Lester, without his glasses, can’t see five feet from his face. And then he was crying and that didn’t help his sight a bit. He’d managed to get clear of the booth and grapple with the second man, and grapple is just the word I mean. He had both arms around him and it looked as though he was trying to climb up him like a kid climbs a tree.
I’d dropped my tray when I’d hit the first one. I circled Lester and his partner, waited until I got a clear shot at the partner’s jaw, and smacked.
He just shook his head and I wondered if I’d lost my punch. I circled around the two of them again, waiting for another chance, and then I heard a scream, right in my ear, and the Heber woman brought down a hefty handbag across the guy’s head.
It hurt Lester more than it did the guy because he shook Lester off with a sort of wiggle. But it bothered him enough to make him stand still and I got him by the wrist and then turned and threw him over my shoulder. It wasn’t hard. I yanked and stooped at the same time and he went over in the old flying mare. He landed in a heap and I got there and kicked him in the face before he could scramble up.