Nancy shrugged and said, in a resigned voice, “We might as well celebrate at the Corn Club as anywhere else.”
“Fine,” Houser was already moving towards his office. “I’ll ring up for a table, then drive you over.” He was gone almost five minutes, then came back, and led them through the waiting-room and out to the parking lot. As he started the car he said: “This girl really has something, Bill.”
Lennox grunted. His mind was on May, on the numbers racket. He said: “If you’re in love with her, you’re just spoiling your chances, helping her crash pictures.”
Houser’s face showed red in the light from the dash lamp. “Who said I was in love with her?”
Nancy Hobbs smoothed things by saying: “She certainly is attractive.”
Houser’s voice was grateful. “See, Bill, and that comes from a fan writer.” He swung the car through traffic and into the jammed parking place beside the club. “Zimm certainly gets a play. It’s the wheel that draws them. Since Caliente closed, the picture people are gambling in town. That last night at Caliente was sure wild. Everyone was trying to get even.” He laughed, climbed from the car, and they went towards the stucco building.
The headwaiter nodded to Houser and said to Bilclass="underline" “We haven’t seen you in some time, Mr. Lennox.” He led them to a ring-side table. As Nancy sat down Houser looked at his watch. “It’s forty minutes before Maria goes on. Do you want to dance, or would you rather try the wheel?”
Bill shrugged, but Nancy said: “We’ll dance,” and led Lennox towards the crowded floor.
He skilfully avoided a swaying couple, and said against her hair: “Why anyone sees any fun in a dog-fight like this, I never...” He stiffened, staring across her head.
Her voice was sharp, concerned. “What’s it now?”
“Nothing, I just spotted May. I want to talk to him.” Without another word he led her back to the table, then skirted the floor and paused before the former grip. There was a tall glass close to May’s hand, almost empty.
May looked up, his pale eyes flickering as he saw Lennox. “What do you want?” The voice was sullen.
Bill dropped into the other chair. “To talk to you. Collins put you off the lot for selling numbers... How would you like to come back?”
May twisted the glass slowly. “I don’t know whether I want to or not.”
Lennox hid his surprise. “Not anxous, huh?”
“I wasn’t getting rich,” May growled. “What the hell did it hurt Spurck if I made a few dollars on the side? It didn’t come out of his pocket.”
Lennox’ voice got sharp. “You’re heading for trouble, kid. You’ve got the wrong slant. You’d better change it, quick.”
“Nuts to you.” May’s sullen dark eyes looked at Lennox steadily and defiantly.
Bill leaned forward and his fingers closed on the bony wrist. “Get this, fella. I can get nasty. I can turn you over to the cops. I’d rather give you a chance.”
“A chance to rat. Is that it?” May shook Lennox’ hand away. “Go ahead, big boy. Turn me over to the cops and see what it buys you. You can’t stop them selling numbers. I’d be sprung in ten minutes. This numbers thing is bigger than you are, Lennox, bigger than Spurck, bigger than your whole — damn’ studio. Laugh that off, smart guy, but leave me alone.”
For a minute Bill was angry. Someone had been feeding May a line about the importance of the big shot behind the numbers racket. That was evident. Bill started to say something, changed his mind and rose. May was laughing at him as he walked away.
Nancy looked at his face as he came back to their table. “Any luck?”
Lennox shook his head. “The kid’s gone screwy. Someone’s showed him some easy money and he’s got ideas. I’m wasting time, fooling with him...” He broke off as Houser came up to the table with Maria.
Nancy whispered, “Give the kid a break. Bill. She’s nice.”
Bill rose and Houser said: “Miss Mussaco, I want you to meet Miss Hobbs and Bill Lennox.”
The girl took Bill’s hand. “This seems almost like a dream, Mr. Lennox. I’ve read your name in the gossip columns a hundred times, but I never expected to meet you.”
He stared at her, thinking that she was kidding, but there was no sign of it in the large dark eyes. There was something eager about her. She was excited, excited as a child is excited. He guessed that she was eighteen, nineteen, perhaps, yet she lacked the sophistication of the average high school girl. He smiled: “Don’t get your hopes too high. A lot of girls have tests and then don’t make the grade.”
“Then you will give me a test?”
Lennox nodded as Houser asked Nancy Hobbs for a dance. He said: “Shall we dance, Maria?”
She looked about doubtfully. “If you think it would be all right. You see, I’m to work here for two weeks.”
Lennox’ smile widened. “I don’t think they’d fire you for dancing with me. Shall we try?” He led her towards the crowded floor. She danced well, but he had expected that. Her body was built for dancing. He said, still amused. “This is your first time at a night-club, isn’t it?”
She looked up at him, her dark eyes very wide. “How’d you guess?”
“I’ve got second sight,” he said. “Which do you want to be, Maria, a singer in pictures or on the radio?”
The arched brows knotted. “I think pictures.” She said it doubtfully. “Mr. Lennox, I want to ask you a favor.”
“A favor?” He stared. “What is it, Maria?”
She said, hurriedly: “It’s not for myself. It’s for a friend. He used to work at General. He was fired this afternoon... He...”
Lennox’ voice hardened. “You’re going to ask me to get Tom May his job back?”
Surprise held her for a moment. “Why, how did you know?”
He said, grimly: “I’ve an idea that your friend doesn’t want his job back. I just had a little talk with him, and he didn’t seem enthusiastic.”
Her hand on his arm tightened. “He’ll take the job, and he won’t sell any more of those numbers. I promise.”
Lennox stared at her. “Are you sure you know what you’re promising, Maria?”
She said: “He’s got to have that job, Mr. Lennox. He’s in bad company. I don’t want him in the rackets. He’s just a wild kid that’s sore because he hasn’t got a lot of money, but if he really gets mixed up with this bunch he’ll never get out. I know what will happen if he keeps on. I’ve seen it, seen death...” Her lips closed sharply and her face was dead white beneath the makeup, making her lips look almost black by comparison.
She faltered suddenly and Bill steadied her. “What’s wrong, kid?”
She was staring towards the door. “Who are those men?”
Lennox turned his head. He said: “The one on the right is Phil Zimm, who owns this spot. The man with him is Al Switzer, his bodyguard. Why?”
She had recovered herself somewhat. “Nothing.”
Lennox started to say, “Don’t lie” — and someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around. He found himself staring into the pale eyes of Tom May. The man was drunker than he had been at the table. He started forward, but the girl shoved in between them. “Tom, Tom.”
May pushed her to one side, not gently. “You keep the hell out of this. I’m going to tell this stuffed shirt where he gets off. Asking you questions about me, huh? What’d he tell you, and what the devil have you been telling him?”
She pushed forward again. “I was asking for your job back, you drunken fool. Do you understand? Your job that you lost...” May’s hand came up and he slapped her across the cheek.
Lennox brushed her to one side and faced May. He saw the man’s hand streak towards the back of his neck, saw it start forward, the thin knife gleaming. Then his fist crashed against May’s jaw and the ex-grip went down, the knife clattering to the floor with sudden sound in the now quiet room.