“Did anything like this ever happen before, Kay?”
Kay shook her head slowly from side to side, and Sue looked startled. For the first time she looked startled. She hardly heard the soft tapping on the door. It was Kay who said, “Come in.”
Nat Peters looked at them as if he expected something to happen, but wasn’t sure just what.
“You all right, Kay?”
She stood up without answering and walked over to the dressing table, her straight back sagging slightly.
“She’s all right, Mr. Peters,” Sue muttered quickly.
“You don’t say it so good.”
“I’m just fine, Mr. Peters,” Kay chimed in, looking at him over the top of her compact.
“You going back on?” he asked, and when she nodded her head, the owner of the lounge looked pleased.
“No,” snapped Don. “To hell with the ‘show must go on’ routine! I don’t want you out there.” He walked over and stood behind her, one hand resting on her white shoulder.
She shifted uncomfortably. “Let me alone, Don,” she said, and there were stones in her voice.
He let his fingers slide from her. “I don’t want you out there,” he repeated softly, but it was an ill-disguised warning.
Kay turned away from him. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, Mr. Peters,” she said quietly.
“Kay!”
“I must, Don, don’t you see? Those people out there, they paid to—”
“To hell with them. I’m telling you, Kay, I won’t be responsible.”
“So what are you now, an M.D., too?” Peters jibed sarcastically. “What’s this all about?”
“Maybe you’d better not, Kay,” Sue mumbled. “Maybe Don’s right.”
“Look,” broke in Peters, “if you ain’t feeling so good, you don’t have to finish up. I’m no Simon Legree, you know, kid.”
Kay smiled. “I know, Mr. Peters. You’re nice, but I’ll be all right.”
Her eyes sought Don’s and she had an uneasy feeling that there were too many things left unsaid.
Sue stood up as if she were on wires. “And now if you gentlemen will excuse us...”
“Sure, sure,” chattered Peters. “Coming, Davis?”
Don grunted at the restaurant owner and went over and took Kay’s hand in his palm.
Peters hurried out as if he hadn’t seen and Sue busied herself with something on the couch.
“Okay,” he said, “if you must.” He grinned at her and got back a weak smile.
“I must, Don, believe me.”
He shook his head as if he didn’t understand. “Just look at that same table, Kay. I’ll be there — and don’t worry.” He glanced narrowly at Sue. “It’s probably just like she says, anyway — some zany character’s idea of a gag.”
But as he went out of the room, he knew that he had never sounded more unconvincing in his life. The small piece of white paper was a heavy object in his coat pocket. He had lied — he had wanted to lie. The threat to kill Kay Winters was no gag. After all, who should know it better than he — the assistant District Attorney?
For an hour and a half he sat there and wondered at the peculiar code of show business that made them go on as if nothing had happened. There was no doubt about it, Kay was scared. But she was wonderful; she’d never been better. As he listened to the finish of her show, the only tell-tale sign of the terrible fear that gripped at her white throat was a tightening around her small mouth.
As the sound of her theme music filled the lounge of the Shell-Aire Restaurant, Sue went over and sat down next to him. She sighed deeply and it spelled out relief.
“It’s over.”
He looked at her as if she were a hostile witness.
“What makes you think it’s over?”
“What?”
“These things are never over,” he rasped coldly and his chair scraped as he got up to greet Kay
“Take me home, Don,” she murmured. “Please, please.” All the life had suddenly gone out of her and she looked wan. “You don’t mind, Sue?”
Sue shrugged but it was Nat Peters who spoke as he suddenly appeared from behind them.
“Before you go, Kay, baby, can you give me a minute?”
She wilted. “Oh, Mr. Peters!”
“Let it go until tomorrow, can’t you?” said Sue. “She’s tired and so am I.” Kay’s red-headed manager sounded annoyed.
Nat took the disc-jockey firmly by the arm. “It won’t take long,” he insisted.
“All right,” said Kay. “Just a minute though. I’m really dead.” She didn’t appear to notice what she had said but Don did. He noticed it very much.
He started forward with them as they turned to go, but the restaurant man growled, “Sorry, Davis, this is business.”
“Oh,” he said and abruptly sat down.
Kay fingered his shoulder. “Wait,” she murmured, “I’ll be right back,” and moved off with Nat and Sue.
Just before they went into Nat Peters’ private office she glanced over her shoulder at where the assistant District Attorney was sitting. He was watching her, his keen brown eyes burning. She was almost glad when the door closed behind the three of them. There was something about the way Don was looking at her...
She heard Sue’s whispered voice croak, “Patello!” and her own blue orbs caught fire.
Chapter Four
Last Broadcast
Vince Patello had stepped from behind the closet and now stood between them and the closed door. His steel-gray suit matched the color of his cold eyes, and the knifelike crease pressed in his trousers was as sharp as the thin line that served as his mouth.
“Which one of you dames has the big yapper?”
“Take it easy, Vince,” said Nat.
“Shut up, fat boy,” he growled.
Nat Peters shut up and Kay got up, and that left just Sue sitting there staring into space.
“Where are you going, doll-face?” Patello shot through his teeth.
Kay ignored him and walked toward the door until Patello reached out. Grabbing her by the arm, he manhandled her to the chair she’d just vacated. She sat down heavily as the flat of his hand shoved roughly into her.
She grunted and Peters said again, “Take it easy, Vince.”
The gambling czar whirled on him. “Take it easy? Take it easy? Are you nuts?” He was sweating profusely all over his furrowed brow. “If these dames talk, I’m done, get it? Done!” He walked toward Kay, his fists doubled up like mallets.
“Tell them, Kay,” screamed Sue, her voice breaking wide open in fright. “Tell them you won’t say anything!”
There was a blank look on the disc-jockey’s face.
“I don’t understand. What do you mean, Sue?”
Vince Patello laughed, only it didn’t sound very pleasant. “Is this dame kidding?”
There was a wise look on Peters’ face. “Wait a minute, Vince, hold it.”
“For how long?”
“Listen, Kay,” said the restaurant owner. “That time you walked in and saw Vince and me closeted with Judge Manson — remember?”
“Sure, she remembers,” broke in the racketeer.
Kay nodded. “I remember. But your business is yours and mine is mine. I told Sue to tell you that then.”
“What?”
“You’ve done a lot for me, Mr. Peters. I owed you something.”
“Then why did you tell Don?” blurted out Sue in a high-pitched voice.
Kay looked surprised. “But I didn’t. You know that, Sue. Why would I tell Don?”
“Yeah!” It was a suspicious grunt that Vince Patello emitted from his open mouth.
“She’s going to marry him,” screamed Sue. “That’s why, that’s why!”
“Sue! What are you saying?”
The gangster went over and slapped Kay hard across the face. She staggered backward, her shaking hand fingering her stinging cheek.