She leered at me once more, then her eyes closed and she began to snore.
It might have been an act, but I didnt care. Suddenly I had enough of the scene, too much of it, far too much of it.
I picked my hat off the davenport and went over to the door and opened it and went out past the screen. The radio still droned in the corner and the woman still snored gently in her chair. I threw a quick look back at her before I closed the door, then shut it, opened it again silently and looked again.
Her eyes were still shut but something gleamed below the lids. I went down the steps, along the cracked walk to the street.
In the next house a window curtain was drawn aside and a narrow intent face was close to the glass, peering, an old womans face with white hair and a sharp nose.
Old Nosey checking up on the neighbors. Theres always at least one like her to the block. I waved a hand at her. The curtain fell.
I went back to my car and got into it and drove back to the 77th Street Division, and climbed upstairs to Nultys smelly little cubbyhole of an office on the second floor.
6
Nulty didnt seem to have moved. He sat in his chair in the same attitude of sour patience. But there were two more cigar stubs in his ashtray and the floor was a little thicker in burnt matches.
I sat down at the vacant desk and Nulty turned over a photo that was lying face down on his desk and handed it to me. It was a police mug, front and profile, with a fingerprint classification underneath. It was Malloy all right, taken in a strong light, and looking as if he had no more eyebrows than a French roll.
Thats the boy. I passed it back.
We got a wire from Oregon State pen on him, Nulty said. All time served except his copper. Things look beter. We got him cornered. A prowl car was talking to a conductor the end of the Seventh Street line. The conductor mentioned a guy that size, looking like that. He got off Third and Alexandria. What hell do is break into some big house where the folks are away. Lots of em there, old-fashioned places too far downtown now and hard to rent. Hell break in one and we got him bottled. What you been doing?
Was he wearing a fancy hat and white golf balls on his jacket?
Nulty frowned and twisted his hands on his kneecaps. No, a blue suit. Maybe brown.
Sure it wasnt a sarong?
Huh? Oh yeah, funny. Remind me to laugh on my day off.
I said: That wasnt the Moose. He wouldnt ride a street car. He had money. Look at the clothes he was wearing. He couldnt wear stock sizes. They must have been made to order.
Okey, ride me, Nulty scowled. What you been doing?
What you ought to have done. This place called Florians was under the same name when it was a white night trap. I talked to a Negro hotelman who knows the neighborhood. The sign was expensive so the shines just went on using it when they took over. The mans name was Mike Florian. Hes dead some years, but his widow is still around. She lives at 1644 West 54th Place. Her name is Jessie Florian. Shes not in the phone book, but she is in the city directory.
Well, what do I do date her up? Nulty asked.
I did it for you. I took in a pint of bourbon with me. Shes a charming middle-aged lady with a face like a bucket of mud and if she has washed her hair since Coolidges second term, Ill eat my spare tire, rim and all.
Skip the wisecracks, Nulty said.
I asked Mrs. Florian about Velma. You remember, Mr. Nulty, the redhead named Velma that Moose Malloy was looking for? Im not tiring you, am I, Mr. Nulty?
What you sore about?
You wouldnt understand. Mrs. Florian said she didnt remember Velma. Her home is very shabby except for a new radio, worth seventy or eighty dollars.
You aint told me why thats something I should start screaming about.
Mrs. Florian Jessie to me said her husband left her nothing but his old clothes and a bunch of stills of the gang who worked at his joint from time to time. I plied her with liquor and she is a girl who will take a drink if she has to knock you down to get the bottle. After the third or fourth she went into her modest bedroom and threw things around and dug the bunch of stills out of the bottom of an old trunk. But I was watching her without her knowing it and she slipped one out of the packet and hid it. So after a while I snuck in there and grabbed it.
I reached into my pocket and laid the Pierrot girl on his desk. He lifted it and stared at it and his lips quirked at the corners.
Cute, he said. Cute enough, I could have used a piece of that once. Haw, haw. Velma Valento, huh? What happened to this doll?
Mrs. Florian says she died but that hardly explains why she hid the photo.
It dont do at that. Why did she hide it?
She wouldnt tell me. In the end, after I told her about the Moose being out, she seemed to take a dislike to me. That seems impossible, doesnt it?
Go on, Nulty said.
Thats all. Ive told you the facts and given you the exhibit. If you cant get somewhere on this set-up, nothing I could say would help.
Where would I get? Its still a shine killing. Waitll we get the Moose. Hell, its eight years since he saw the girl unless she visited him in the pen.
All right, I said. But dont forget hes looking for her and hes a man who would bear down. By the way, he was in for a bank job. That means a reward. Who got it?
I dont know, Nulty said. Maybe I could find out. Why?
Somebody turned him up. Maybe he knows who. That would be another job he would give time to. I stood up. Well, goodby and good luck.
You walking out on me?
I went over to the door. I have to go home and take a bath and gargle my throat and get my nails manicured.
You aint sick, are you?
Just dirty, I said. Very, very dirty.
Well, whats your hurry? Sit down a minute. He leaned back and hooked his thumbs in his vest, which made him look a little more like a cop, but didnt make him look any more magnetic.
No hurry, I said. No hurry at all. Theres nothing more I can do. Apparently this Velma is dead, if Mrs. Florian is telling the truth and I dont at the moment know of any reason why she should lie about it. That was all I was interested in.
Yeah, Nulty said suspiciously from force of habit.
And you have Moose Malloy all sewed up anyway, and thats that. So Ill just run on home now and go about the business of trying to earn a living.
We might miss out on the Moose, Nulty said. Guys get away once in a while. Even big guys. His eyes were suspicious also, insofar as they contained any expression at all. How much she slip you?
What?
How much this old lady slip you to lay off?
Lay off what?
Whatever it is youre layin off from now on. He moved his thumbs from his armholes and placed them together in front of his vest and pushed them against each other. He smiled.
Oh, for Christs sake, I said, and went out of the office, leaving his mouth open.
When I was about a yard from the door, I went back and opened it again quietly and looked in. He was sitting in the same position pushing his thumbs at each other. But he wasnt smiling any more. He looked worried. His mouth was still open.
He didnt move or look up. I didnt know whether he heard me or not. I shut the door again and went away.
7
They had Rembrandt on the calendar that year, a rather smeary self-portrait due to imperfectly registered color plate. It showed him holding a smeared palette with a dirty thumb and wearing a tam-o-shanter which wasnt any too clean either. His other hand held a brush poised in the air, as if he might be going to do a little work after a while, if somebody made a down payment. His face was aging, saggy, full of the disgust of life and the thickening effects of liquor. But it had a hard cheerfulness that I liked, and the eyes were as bright as drops of dew.