"My father still thinks of me as a little kid … between my ears." She smiled bitterly. "He doesn't try to keep this stuff a secret from me; he's always taught me that people with the wild card are the greatest danger to American society ever. He's never thought of me as a security leak."
I was silent a moment. "When is Jokertown going to burn?"
"I don't know exactly. But I think the wiring of fire-bombs is going to start any time."
"Look — can you tell me anything else? Any kind of a clue to what's going to happen?"
She paused. "The name 'Lansky.' He mentioned it over the phone to someone late last night, after I got home. I remember he said it before, too, when he was talking about Jokertown."
"What about it?"
"That's all I really have." Her tone was apologetic.
I looked into her brown eyes.
"I want to walk you home," Fats Domino sang on the little radio. "Please let me walk you home. …"
The phone rang. I hurried into the kitchen, stark naked.
"Hello?"
"Hiya, Chop-Chop; howsa boy?" Waffle's voice came through over Biff's sizzling grill and the roar of chatter behind him.
"Hi, Waffle. Look — you got to keep this a secret."
Flo came around the corner to listen. She had on her white underpants already. Now she was holding her bra, watching me.
I knew Waffle's information could always be bought, but I had no choice. "Where could a friend of mine get an abortion?"
"Damn! Way to go, Chop-Chop! Didn't know you had it in ya!" Waffle roared with laughter. "Haw! So, little Chop-Chop's got a girlfriend nobody knew about!"
I was glad Flo couldn't hear him. "Come on, Waffle."
Anyhow, Waffle came across. Since she was a nat, it would cost her three hundred for the doctor and two hundred for him. It would be done by a real doctor and we had to meet Waffle behind the Chaos Club in two nights at eight o'clock. I had to come with her. She okayed it on the spot.
I hung up. She liked the fact that this would be done by a real doctor. We had both heard about quacks in that business.
However, I told her to be down here by six o'clock. She couldn't risk getting slowed down in rush hour. If we were late, she might not get another chance. She agreed.
She had to go home now, of course. We got dressed quickly. Since she didn't want to flag down a cab in Jokertown, I agreed to walk her to the Bowery. Lots of nats came and went from the restaurants and bars there.
The night was cool and breezy. I walked with her in a glow of pride, aware that jokers were glancing at us in surprise as we passed. We stopped at the Bowery, where she hailed a cab.
"I won't go straight home," she said. "I'll go halfway home, get out, and take another cab from there. Just in case."
"Look," I said awkwardly. "Can you come back tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow? You said the appointment is two nights away."
"Yeah. Just … well, if you want."
"Maybe, Chuck. Maybe. Tomorrow at the same time?"
"Yeah! Same place, same time — where I work."
"Maybe." As the cab swerved to the curb, she glanced quickly up and down the sidewalk before quickly kissing me on the mouth. Then she slipped inside the cab and slammed the door. It roared away again.
I gazed after the shrinking rear red lights of the cab, still only half believing that this night had happened.
In the breezy summer night, I walked home in a dreamy state, seeing Flo's flushed face and bare breasts against the backdrop of streetlights and shadows. With the Everly Brothers singing in my head, I never once thought about Slug Maligne's baseball card.
"… Never knew what I missed until I kissed ya. …"
The next day was just as hot and humid as yesterday, but I didn't care. Whenever the Everly Brothers came on the radio, I turned the volume way up. I smiled a lot, remembering her.
Thoughts about a big Jokertown fire wouldn't leave me alone, though. Sometimes I looked around at the buildings near me and wondered which ones might go up. I had to talk to someone about my only clue.
When I punched out at the end of the day, I still hadn't seen Flo. I hung around on the sidewalk for half an hour or so, but I guess I knew after the first ten minutes that she wasn't coming. While I was disappointed, I wasn't devastated. I knew she'd be back tomorrow night. Besides, I had business. I finally took off for Biffs.
Inside Biffs, Connie Francis was on the jukebox: "Lip stick on your col-lar … Told a tale on you — ooh. …"
At this early hour, the place was nearly empty. Behind the counter, Biff was making hamburger patties. His face and body were those of a furry brown chipmunk standing up on his hind legs, in a t-shirt and a stained bib apron. He glanced up, bored.
"Hi, Biff." I got a Coke from him and headed to a round metal table in the rear. Two of the regular joker guys were back there.
The song ended. No other song came on. The place suddenly seemed as quiet as a tomb.
Cheetah and Troll were two guys I had always kind of known, but not well. They had been involved in petty theft and break-ins of nat-owned businesses. I had always been a little afraid of them. Now I knew they might be able to help and that I could trust them to keep quiet about it, too.
"Hi, guys."
"Hi." Cheetah looked me over cautiously. I had never just walked up to them before. Cheetah had the head and neck of a chimpanzee, except for the power of human speech. Above the waist, he had the short, hairy body and long arms of one, as well, inside a white t-shirt. Below the waist, he had human proportions and wore ordinary, dirty dungarees and tennis shoes.
Troll was nine feet tall and had green, warty skin. His crooked yellow teeth stuck out in every direction and his red eyes peered out from under a heavy brow ridge. He was muscular but still slender with youth. In his huge hand, with nails like sharp, black claws, a greenish bottle of Coke had almost disappeared. He sat on the floor, leaning back against the wall.
"Sit down, Chop-Chop," Troll rumbled.
I sat down next to Cheetah. "You guys ever hear the name 'Lansky' before?"
Cheetah's eyes widened. Troll didn't react that I could see.
"Well, did ya?"
"Listen, keep your voice down about him," said Cheetah. "Meyer Lansky is one of the biggest racket guys ever."
"Yeah? What's he doing now? He must have something going."
"He's been seen around Jokertown lately. Word is, he came down personally in this big black Caddy to rent some warehouse space."
"Really? What's he keeping in it?"
"Chop-Chop, I wouldn't ask questions like that. He keeps his place guarded. You follow me?"
"Then where are these warehouses?"
"Chop-Chop! That kinda talk is dangerous."
"Why?" Troll asked, much more calmly.
"Well …" I felt I had to keep Flo out of my explanation, but the rest of it was joker business. "Look, I need some help. I might have to break into a place."
"What?" Cheetah's eye widened in surprise. "Little Chop-Chop's turning into a juvenile delinquent? What's the deal?"
"I can't go into it, but it's big."
"Jokers shouldn't hurt each other," Troll said firmly.
"Not jokers," I whispered. "A place is gonna burn."
"What place?" Cheetah shoved his Coke bottle aside.
"I got to keep that quiet. But I have to find out what Lansky's doing in jokertown."
"All right," said Troll. "He rented that red brick warehouse where we used to throw rocks through the windows. And the one just down the street from it, too. Take your pick."
Cheetah laughed, showing his large chimp's teeth. "Half the windows in that red one are still busted out."