“I just might do that,” she said pertly, and he released her hand. “Good-bye, Ugly.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Good-bye?”
“Au 'voir,
then.” Under his approving eye the girl flushed brilliantly, turned on her heel, and sped from the lobby, and Johnny smiled after her. In five years that kid would be something to see. In five years-
“Robbing the cradle these days, mister?”
Johnny turned his head; he had been facing the foyer, but he hadn't seen Shirley come in. He inspected the tall girl's dark beauty critically. “You wanna deprive me of my simple pleasures? You look a little better than you did the last time I saw you.”
“I want to talk to you about the last time you saw me, mister.”
“Not in that tone of voice, you don't.” He straightened the crumpled cablegram in his left hand and thrust it at her. “Here. Wipe the slobber off your chin with that.”
She snatched it from his hand without even looking at it, her eyes slits. “Don't you get tight with me, Johnny, or I'll-”
“You'll what?” he asked her softly. “My name's not Martin. You want to play rough, I'll bounce your tail a foot high off this lobby floor, an' enjoy it. Now why the hell did you come over here?”
Her smile was mocking. “I forgot I was talking to a professional hard guy. My request is simple, sir. I merely want to know why I woke up after you took me home the other afternoon with my brand new gold toreador pants in one and a half inch strips all over the bed, and my backside so sore I couldn't sit squarely? Do you beat unconscious women now for amusement? I looked in the mirror this morning, and it still looks like an Indian smoke signal against a desert dawn. I want to know how come?”
“I was lookin' for needle punctures,” Johnny told her tersely. “When I found 'em, I got mad, and whacked you once.”
“You had a hell of a nerve!” she said harshly. “Did you ever try minding your own business? You've got-”
“Ahhh, break it off,” he said wearily. He looked at the angry, beautiful face. “You hooked solid?”
“Of course I'm not!” she flashed.
“Willie know you're on the stuff?”
Her smile was triumphantly vindictive. “Yes, little boy, Willie knows. Isn't it a shame you won't be able to be the first to give him the news?”
Johnny felt sick; he sensed she was telling the truth. When he remained silent, Shirley remembered the cablegram in her hand. She read it quickly, and her lip curled. She looked at Johnny. “The master's voice. Did you call BOAC's overseas office to see what time he'd get in?”
“You're on the payroll, kid. You call 'em.”
Her lips tightened. 'You trying to start something with me? Some one of these days I'll give you-” She broke off as she thought of something; she looked again at the cable. “'reserve mario.'“ She tore up the cablegram into thin strips; her tone was bitter. “I'm not going back to that place of Mario's. Willie may like to play big shot and be greeted at the front door by the maitre d' bowing from the waist, but not me. I don't like those places where you can't get the frost off the help's chins. Anybody who isn't a charter member couldn't make an impression over there by carpeting the floor wall-to-wall with twenty dollar bills.”
“Willie's been goin' to the Casa Grande for twenty five years,” Johnny said patiently. “He's known Mario longer'n that.”
“Willie's going to have to make a few changes in his routine.” She smiled at Johnny sweetly. “I'm working on it.” “Willie could fool you, kid. Willie 'n me-” The smile vanished. “Willie 'n me,” Shirley mimicked savagely. “Damn Willie and you! And damn you and Willie I'm sick of the combination eternally dinned in my ears! Doesn't either of you have a life of your own any more?” She turned furiously and flounced out through the foyer, her high heels clicking spitefully, and Johnny stared after her.
“Boy,” he murmured finally. “Boy, oh boy. Happy days are here again. Rack 'em up in the other alley, Sam.”
Very thoughtfully he resumed his interrupted progress to the street.
The shades were drawn in the apartment bedroom, and if it was not dark, Johnny decided, it was at least a pleasant twilight. He could see the shape and outline of the larger objects in the room but not the details. He sighed, stretched lengthily, and turned his head to look at the pale blur of Sally's relaxed figure on the bed beside him. “I ate too much, ma. You shouldn't feed me like that.”
“Once a pig, always a pig,” she murmured drowsily, and Johnny smiled and ran a palm lightly over a smooth shoulder. Sally's head came up abruptly from the pillow. “Listen, man, are we going to sleep, or are we going to play? Make up your mind.”
“I feel like talkin', ma. Reach me a cigarette.”
She groaned in protest. “I'm sleepy, Johnny-” He could feel her movement as she stretched to reach the night table, and in the near darkness her features were indistinguishable as she leaned back over him. Her hair swirled about the lighter oval of her face as she traced the shape of his lips with an enquiring finger before inserting the cigarette, and light flared in her hand, flickered, and steadied to an even glow. Johnny stared up over the cigarette lighter into the soft brown eyes and the revealed thin features, shiningly translucent in the flame. He drew deeply on the cigarette, and Sally released the lever action on the lighter, and the cloaking twilight again rushed in upon them.
She snuggled back along the length of his body, and then almost at once she lifted her head again. “Well, buster, what happened to all that conversation?”
“I'll get around to it.”
“Oh, come on. If you don't have anything to say, at least let me sleep.” She came up on an elbow and peered down into his face, trying to make out his expression. “Or do you have something?”
“Well, did I tell you Willie'll be in tonight?”
“You know perfectly well you didn't tell me.” She dropped back on the pillow, and he could hear the edge of resentment in the soft voice. “I can see where I'll be a bachelorette for sure while he's in town. Did he call you?”
“Cable. He's in Europe. Or was. Gonna be kinda nice to have ol' Willie around.”
Her voice had softened. “You think a lot of him, don't you?”
“Willie's all right.”
“What makes him such a hero, outside of having a few dollars?”
“Hero? Aww, hero's a dirty word, Sally. What you need to remember about Willie is that when the heroes are takin' to the trees Willie's just gettin' into second gear.”
“He certainly doesn't look it.”
“You don't know him like I do, ma. We've seen a few tough sunrises come up over the horizon, Willie 'n me.” He lay there remembering.
When Sally spoke again her tone had changed. “Have you talked to Lieutenant Dameron since last night?”
“No, and that reminds me-I ought to call him. I found out somethin' about that.” He dragged on the last half inch of cigarette and stubbed it out with a long reach over her shoulder. “You don't ever want to be hangin' by anything tender while you're waiting for the police to call you with information, ma.”
“Even when you're helping them?” She sounded indignant. “And after what you did for them last night?”
“Toe's a little touchy about my help. He's afraid I'll go off half-cocked in the action and jeopardize his official position. He wants me, but he wants me under wraps. And that thing last night wasn't such a much I did for them. The butcher would have found him anyway when he opened the box this morning, so I only got them about twelve hours. 'Course sometimes twelve hours is a hell of a lot but this time I don't see that it means much.” He grinned into the darkness. “Hell of a thing to have in your mind, but you know all I could think of last night? I was picturin' Karl, the butcher, walkin' into that box this morning if we hadn't found the stiff. Karl's always half smashed goin' to work anyway, account of the cold.”