“You get out of the gutter. As far as possible, that is.”
“Yes, ma. You got that list?”
She handed it to him silently, and he ran down it quickly, then tapped it in his palm thoughtfully while she watched him. “The one you're looking for's not on there?”
“That's right. Maybe-” He frowned down at the list.
“Just as a point of information, five minutes after you left Fussy Freddie came downstairs and opened up his office and made a call on his direct line.”
“He did, huh? Joe Dameron is missing a good bet in you, kid.”
“He's the name you expected to see?”
“I wish I could answer that. I can't figure him. In my time I've seen a few hundred tough guys. If this is a tough guy, it's a new kind.”
“Johnny, what's going on around here?”
“Baby, it'll be a pleasure to tell you the minute I find out.”
“You mean you're fighting with people you don't know, and you don't know why, either?”
“You know me, ma. You didn't expect me to go at it intelligently, did you?”
“You just won't tell me.”
“I'm tickled to death to have you think so. You better run along now, ma … I need to rest my eyes a little.”
When she had gone he finished the bourbon, rubbed his jaw gently, and considered the ruins of his uniform on the floor.
This campaign is sure hell on the haberdashery, he thought.
He stripped the bed, walked stiff-leggedly to the bathroom and washed up, placed cigarettes and matches on the night table, and eased himself cautiously between the sheets. His head throbbed steadily as he lit a cigarette and lay back gently on the propped-up pillow. He stared blankly up at the ceiling and mentally shuffled and re-shuffled the possibilities in his mind.
It was a long time before he put out the light.
Chapter IV
The cold water faucet needed a washer, Johnny noted; he rough-palmed his wet hair tighter to his skull and walked out into the bedroom. The clock on Maria Stevens' night table said twelve forty five; he bent down over the bed and laid a hand lightly on her shoulder. “So long, kid.”
She sat up with a start. “Goodness! I must have dozed off-” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and felt for her slippers as a small palm smothered a yawn. “Oh, my! It's the hour, not the company, believe me. I do hate to see you go.”
“You'll be back again before you know it.”
“Not that quickly, unfortunately.” She walked with him to the door, and the sleepy look on the plain features evaporated as the mild eyes inspected again the tape on his face. “I certainly hope that the police find whoever did that to you. It's criminal that such things can happen!”
He grinned at her. “You sound just like somebody else I know-”
“It makes me uneasy. If a thing like that can happen right in the neighborhood, are the children safe when we bring them here? After all, there's-”
“Now don't go givin' the hotel a bum rap because of somethin' that happened to me,” Johnny broke in quickly. “I shouldn't have told you about it.”
“You didn't tell me about it,” she said spiritedly. “I had to drag it out of you a word at a time. Anyway, if I know Ronald Frederick he'll give the police no rest until they clear it up.”
“You know Freddie?” he asked her in surprise.
“Well, not really. He's a very close friend of two good friends of mine, though. Rose and Terry Lund. I've met him twice, I think, at their place in Atlanta. He was managing a hotel there before he went out to the coast. I was the most surprised person in the world when I saw his name on the hotel stationery here. I went by his office, and even sent in a note, but he must have been terribly busy; his secretary came out and apologized that he just didn't have a moment, even, to visit.”
“I don't know what the hell could have been so damn Important that he didn't have a minute for a cash customer-”
“Oh, it was just impulse, really… seeing the familiar name. I don't know what I'd have talked about if he had come out.” She looked up at him gravely. “I hate to go back.”
He held out his hand, and she took it, her hand lost in his. “Keep punchin', kid. You'll be back-”
“But not before I know it. Good-bye, Johnny. It's been fine.”
He saluted, opened the door, and stepped into the corridor. He was half a dozen doors down the hall before he heard her door close behind him. He took the service elevator down to the lobby, and Vic Barnes looked up from the registration desk as Johnny stepped out of the cab. “Got a minute, John-?”
“Sure, Vic.” He shuffled in the bearlike stride over to the desk and looked at the stocky man inquiringly. “Trouble?”
“You remember that 938 you were talking about last night?”
“938?” Johnny frowned. “Oh, yeah, that was that hard looking ticket that ordered the beer. Or rather, he was in the room. Why?”
“He blew. No-pay. I got a note here from Chet to see him about it in the morning.”
“Bags and all?”
“Clean. Chefs trying to pin it on our shift.”
“If you have any trouble with Chet, you let me know. He didn't get out of here on our shift. Listen. Look up 1421, I think it was; Dumas. That's the guy that was in 938's room.”
Vic glanced at the room rack. “Vacant now.” He picked up a handful of cards and started turning them over; he stopped a third of the way through the pile. “There he is. 9:30 A.M. checkout. Everything in order.”
“Damn funny,” Johnny said thoughtfully. “I'll ask Gus in the morning to find out how many bags he took out with him. If he had a couple extra we can sic Chet on him.” He glanced around the quiet lobby. “You send Paul out for something?”
“He's on the board, relieving Sally. She went out in the alley for a smoke.”
“The alley? For God's sake, there's still a ladies' lounge in this place, isn't there?” He was conscious of Vic's eyes on him curiously. “Keep an eye on this menagerie.”
He walked quickly to the elevator, dropped to the sub-basement, stationed the car, and walked out into the alley through the partly opened heavy iron door. He saw her right away, resting with her back against the building wall, the glow of her cigarette softening the sharp lines of the thin face. She turned at the sound of his steps on the cement. “Oh, I'm glad you came down, Johnny. I wanted to talk to you.”
“Me first, ma. What's the matter with havin' your smoke in the ladies' room?”
“It's hot in there.”
“So it's hot. You do your smokin' in there from now on. You lookin' to tie into the same buzzsaw I tangled with last night?”
“Don't be ridiculous!”
“Who's bein' ridiculous? I don't know what's goin' on around here, Sally. So far they've been able to lean on me whenever they took the notion, which means they know my habits. If they also happen to know that you and I aren't exactly strangers, I don't want them reachin' for me through you.”
“But no one ever pays any attention to me, Johnny!”
“I might like to keep it that way.”
“Such gallantry!” she smiled. “In that mood, how about answering a question for me?”
“I don't know the answers to any questions.”
“You know this answer.”
He studied her for a moment. “Shoot.”
“Johnny, what happened to Max?”
“He became deceased.”
“I can read, I hope! What I want to know is what you had to do with it.”
“You think I scragged him, ma? You an' Joe Dameron.”
“You didn't, did you, Johnny?”
“No, ma, I didn't. They found me upstairs, but I got lucky. It was on the elevator, and they were in each other's way. I christianized the crowd, dropped down here, and unloaded. They were all breathing, if that's what's botherin' you.”
“But the paper said he was s-shot-!”
“Not by me. I don't like guns.”
“Honestly? Then why were you beaten up last night? Look at you… you look like a pirate.”
“I already told you I don't know. I think Max was the front man for something that's supposed to be headquartered here, and he was supposed to get me in line. When he fumbled it, someone further up the line decided Max should abdicate.”