It wasn't a worried or a scared Lily this time. It was a Lily who took my arm and held it tightly, smiling a smile that was real. "Where are we going, Mike?"
It was the first time she had said my name and I liked the way she said it.
"To my place." I told her.
We went downstairs and out on Atlantic Avenue. We played a game of not being seen in case there were watchers and if there were they weren't good enough to keep up with us. We used the subway to go home and took a cab to the door. When I was sure nobody was in the lobby I took her in.
It was all very simple.
When we got upstairs I told her to hop into the sack and showed her the spare bedroom. She smiled, reached out and patted my cheek and said, "It's been a long time since I met a nice guy, Mike."
That strange excitement seemed to be inside her like a coiled spring. I squeezed her wrist and she knew what I was saying without having to use words and her mouth started to part.
I stopped it there.
Or maybe she stopped it. The spring wound tighter and tighter, then I let her go and walked away. Behind me the door closed softly and I thought I heard a whispered "Good night, Mike."
I started it that night. At three-thirty the word went out in the back room of a gin mill off Forty-second and Third. Before morning it would yell and before the night came again it would pay off. One way or another.
Wherever they were, whoever they were, they would hear about it. They'd know me and know what the word meant. They'd sit and think for a little while and if they knew me well enough maybe they'd feel a little bit sweaty and not so sure of themselves any more. They couldn't laugh it off. With anybody else, perhaps, but not with me.
Wise guys. A pack of conniving slobs with the world in their hands and the power and money to buck a government while they sat on their fat tails, yet before morning there wouldn't be one of them who didn't have a funny feeling around his gut.
This time they had to move.
The word was out.
I went back to the apartment and listened at the door of Lily's room. I could hear her regular, heavy breathing. I stood there a minute, took a final drag on the butt, put it out and headed for my sack.
Chapter Seven
She was up when the phone rang in the morning. I heard the dishes rattling and smelt the coffee. She called out, "Any time you're ready, come eat."
I said okay and picked up the phone.
The voice was low and soft, the kind you'd never miss in a million years. It was the best way to wake up and it showed in my voice when I said, "Hi, Velda, what's doing?"
"Plenty is doing, but nothing I want to talk about over the phone."
"Get something?"
"Yes."
"Where are you now?"
"Down at the office. A place you ought to try to get to once a week, at least."
"You know how things are, honey," I said.
Lily looked in the door, waved and pointed toward the kitchen, I nodded, glad that Velda didn't know how things were right then.
"Where were you last night? I called until I was too tired to stay awake and tried again this morning."
"I was busy."
"Oh, Pat called." She tried to keep her voice its natural huskiness but it wanted to get away.
"I suppose he said too much."
"He said enough." She stopped and I could hear her breathing into the phone. "Mike, I'm scared."
"Well don't be, kitten. I know what I'm doing. You ought to know that."
"I'm still scared. I think somebody tried to break into my apartment last night."
That one got a low whistle out of me. "What happened?"
"Nothing. I heard a noise in the lock for a while but whoever was trying it gave up. I'm glad I got that special job now. Are you coming over?"
"Not right away."
"You ought to. A lot of mail is piling up. I paid all the bills, but you have a sackful of personal stuff."
"I'll get to it later. Look, did you make out on that info?" "Somewhat. Do you want it now?"
"Right now, kitten. I'll meet you in the Texan Bar in an hour." "All right, Mike."
"And kitten... you got that little heater of yours handy?" "Well..."
"Then keep it handy but don't let it show." "It's handy."
"Good. Grab a cab and get over there."
"I'll be there in an hour."
I slapped the phone back, hopped up and took a fast shower. Lily had everything on the table when I got there, a hopeful smile on her face. The table was spread with enough for a couple of lumberjacks and I ate until I made a dent in the mess, then went for seconds on the coffee.
Lily handed me a fresh pack of Luckies, held out a match and smiled again when I slumped back in my chair. "Have enough?"
"Are you kidding? I'm a city boy, remember?"
"You don't look like a city boy."
"What do I look like?"
Her eyes did it slow. Up and down twice, then a steady scrutiny of my face. For a minute it was supposed to be funny, but the second time there was no humor in it. The eyes seemed to get bigger and deeper with some faraway hungry quality that was past defining. Then almost as quickly as it had come there was a crazy, fearful expression there in its place that lasted the blink of an eye and she forced a laugh out.
"You look like a nice guy, Mike. I haven't seen many nice guys. I'm afraid they make an impression."
"Don't get the wrong impression, Lily," I told her. "I used to think I wasn't much of a sentimentalist, but sometimes I wonder. Right now you're pretty important to me so I may look like a good egg to you. Just don't go walking off with anything while you're here or I'll look different to you."
Her smile got bigger. "You're not fooling me."
I tossed the butt in my empty cup and it fizzled out. "So I'm getting old. You don't stay young in this racket very long."
"Mike..."
I knew what she was going to say before she said it. "I'll be gone for awhile. I don't know how long. The chances are nobody will be up here, but just to keep from sticking our necks out, don't answer that door. If a key goes in the lock it'll be me. Keep the chain on the door until I open it, look for yourself then to make sure and then open up."
"Supposing the phone rings?"
"Let it ring. If I want you I'll call the janitor, have him push the doorbell twice, then I'll call you. Got it?"
"I got it."
"Good. Now take it easy until I get back."
She gave me a slow, friendly wink and a grin, then followed it up with a soft kiss that formed on her lips and crossed the room to me. She was all dressed up with no place to go and didn't care, a beautiful white-headed doll with funny eyes that said she had been around too long and seen too many things. But now she looked happy.
I went downstairs, waited until a cab cruised by and grabbed it. We made the Texan Bar with ten minutes left out of the hour so I loafed around outside until a cab pulled into the curb and Velda got out.
Getting out of a cab is one of the things most women don't do right. But most women aren't Velda. Without half trying she made a production out of it. When you saw her do it you knew she wasn't getting out of a cab so much as making an entrance onto the street. Nothing showed, but there was so much to show that you had to watch to see if it would happen or not and even when it didn't you weren't a bit disappointed.
She turned around, gave me that impish grin and took my arm with a tight squeeze that said she was happy as all get out to see me and the guy with the packages beside me sighed and muttered something about some guys having all the luck.