“I was, Miss Casey.” The smile faded and returned. “For the length of the engagement, you know. Well, I’m at liberty now, so I thought I might give you my card. You’ll find me loyal and efficient. Hardworking, Miss Casey, and clean. An expert seamstress and laundress, and a discreet companion.” She was offering a somewhat battered business card.
Cassie accepted it.
“When I was with Miss Sinclair... You must know of her work? Miss Easter Sinclair, Miss Casey — ”
Margaret had been interrupted by India’s rapping the door frame with hard, directorial knuckles. “Can I see you for a minute, Cassie?”
Cassie nodded and pointed to Margaret. “How much?”
“Only nine-fifty a week, Miss Casey, and — ”
“That’s too much.” Cassie looked around for her purse, found it, and opened it. Neither cop, it appeared, had taken her money. “Here’s twenty. I want a sandwich with lots of meat in it. Hot pastrami, understand? On rye with thousand island. A big coffee to go, sweetener but no creamer. Go get them, and we’ll talk about your pay when you get back.”
India shut the door behind Margaret. “I see you know,” she said.
Cassie, who had not the least idea what she was talking about, nodded.
“If you’d played Mildred like that from the beginning, we’d still be running. Hell’s belles! By this time you’d be Jane Simmons.”
“Something was different tonight,” Cassie said; mostly to herself she added, “I don’t know...”
“It sure as shit was.”
“And now I’m about to hire a dresser who’ll cost me — do you happen to know what Alexis was paying her?”
“Eight twenty-five? I think I heard that.” India dropped into the dressing room’s one tattered chair, leaving Cassie the stool.
“A man owes me a hundred thousand.” Cassie sighed. “I guess I’ve started spending it already. I’d better collect.”
“Good luck. Can I tell you what I wanted to talk to you about?”
“The cast party? If you’d rather I didn’t go, I won’t.”
“Screw the cast party. No, I take that back. You’ve got to go. It’ll look bad if you don’t.”
“Bad for you?”
“Hell, yes.” For a moment, India seemed worried and a trifle angry. “Bad for me and bad for you, too. Bad for everybody in the show.”
“Alexis has decided she hates my guts.”
“So what? She won’t be there.”
“How do you know that?” Cassie wondered whether she looked as surprised as she felt.
“It stands to reason. All the bees will be buzzing around you. She can join the buzz or stand in the corner and pout. Or not go. Which one would you pick?”
For a moment, Cassie could only stare.
“You think I’m kidding? I’m not.”
“All right, I’ll go. Now tell me why you want me to.”
“See here, Cassie...” India’s voice dropped to a stage whisper. “I’ve got this angel. Heavy, heavy guy. Wants to back a big musical. You sing, right?”
She nodded. “Not so you’d notice. I try.”
“And dance?”
“Last time I looked.”
“Well, you’ll wow him. Give him the smile, give him the voice, and we’re in.”
“I’ve got a question, India. Don’t string me on this. I want an honest answer, and I want it now.”
“How much? We’re not talking hard numbers yet, but it’ll be big.”
“How long have you known this guy?”
Someone knocked. It was neither Margaret’s soft tap nor Mickey’s rapid pounding. Cassie motioned India to silence and opened the door.
Jimmy stood there holding his watchman’s cap, looking resolute and a trifle embarrassed. “I’m sorry to bother you, Miss Casey, but I have to deliver a message. There’s a man in the alley, and he’s got a nice present for you. That’s what he said. I... Well, I promised I’d tell you right away.”
India said, “Okay, you’ve told her. Disappear.”
It seemed to Cassie that Jimmy’s normally ruddy face paled somewhat. “Don’t go yet.” Jumping up, she caught his arm. “I need to talk to you.”
India rose, too. “Well, I don’t. You’re coming to the party, right? We can talk more there.”
Cassie nodded. “I’ll be along.”
“I won’t be,” Jimmy muttered.
“Got it.” Cassie motioned for him to come in, and closed the door. “I like you, Jimmy. I consider you a friend, and I stick by my friends. If somebody’s out to get you fired or something, I’m on your side. I mean it. Is that clear?”
“Thanks, Miss Casey.”
“You’re scared about something. If it’s India I can fix it, but I don’t think it is. What is it?”
“Nothing, Miss Casey. Honest. Everything’s fine. It’s just...”
“Just what?”
“Just that he gave me a hundred to come up and tell you he was waiting. Waiting, and he’s got this present for you. Something really nice, he says.”
Cassie slapped her dressing table, jarring four jars. “Let’s get this straight. I don’t accept gifts from men I don’t know. There are a thousand guys out there who give you something and feel like they’ve bought you. If I know the man, maybe I’ll take his gift and maybe I won’t. If I don’t know him, forget it.”
Jimmy nodded. “I’ll tell him.”
“Great. Next point. If he wants his hundred back, tell him you earned it. You found me and told me about him and his gift, and that’s what you promised to do. You can’t deliver me like a package. Nobody can. Call the cops if he gets ugly.”
Jimmy did not nod.
“Last point. What did he look like? Did he give you any kind of name? First name? Nickname? Anything?”
Jimmy shook his head. “He just gave me a hundred — it’s a hundred-dollar bill, I could show you — and said to tell you he was waiting for you with a nice present.”
“What did he look like?”
“I couldn’t see him very well, Miss Casey.” Jimmy was backing toward the door. “It was real dark.”
“Big? Small?”
“Big. He sounded big.” Jimmy turned, almost bumping into Margaret.
Then he was gone, walking away so quickly that Cassie suspected he would have run, had he still been capable of running.
“Here’s your change, Miss Casey. Is everything all right?” Margaret was carrying a white paper bag.
“No.” Cassie dropped into a chair. “Things are not all right. Far from it. You got the coffee and sandwich?”
“Yes, Miss Casey. Sweetener, no cream. Hot pastrami on rye.”
“Good. Let me have ’em. There’ll be food at the party, but I’ll be talking to people and it’s... an hour and twenty minutes. Besides, we don’t want to be there when it starts. Half an hour late should do it. You’re coming?” Cassie had opened the white bag and was looking over her sandwich.
“Thousand island,” Margaret told her. “It’s what you said, Miss Casey.”
“Right. They should’ve used more. Tell them next time, if you’re working for me. What about the party?”
“I don’t think I’m invited, Miss Casey.”
“Phooey. They didn’t give you a straw?”
Margaret shook her head.
“You should have asked for one. Preserves the makeup. I don’t have lots of money, Margaret. If I hire you, we may hit a place where I can’t keep paying you. You’ll be free to split, of course. But that may not be long. I don’t know.”
Margaret smiled. It was a very small smile but a smile just the same, a tiny candle lit in her colorless face. “I know how it is in show business, Miss Casey. I’ve been doing this quite a time.”
“Good. I’ll pay you eight hundred a week. That’s firm. Do a good job, and you’ll get raises. But eight hundred to start. Want it?”
Margaret hesitated. “I wasn’t... Miss Cabana owes me back pay, Miss Casey. It’s over three thousand dollars.”
“I don’t know how I could put the arm on her.” Cassie gave it a few seconds’ thought. “But I’ll do it if I can figure a way.”