‘Dont give me the third degree judge I dont know anything about it’ he said dropping his long lashes over his eyes.
‘By the Black Hand.’
‘You tell em Bullock,’ said Jimmy Herf laughing. Bullock brought his fist down on the table so that the plates and glasses jingled. ‘Canarsie’s full of the Black Hand, full of anarchists and kidnappers and undesirable citizens. It’s our business to ferret em out and vindicate the honor of this poor old man and his beloved daughter. We are going to vindicate the honor of poor old monkeyface, what’s his name?’
‘Mackintosh,’ said Jimmy. ‘And the people round here used to call him Santa Claus. Of course everybody admits he’s been crazy for years.’
‘We admit nothing but the majesty of American citizenhood… But hell’s bells what’s the use when this goddam war takes the whole front page? I was going to have a fullpage spread and they’ve cut me down to half a column. Aint it the life?’
‘You might work up something about how he was a lost heir to the Austrian throne and had been murdered for political reasons.’
‘Not such a bad idear Jimmy.’
‘But it’s such a horrible thing,’ said Tony Hunter.
‘You think we’re a lot of callous brutes, dont you Tony?’
‘No I just dont see the pleasure people get out of reading about it.’
‘Oh it’s all in the day’s work,’ said Jimmy. ‘What gives me gooseflesh is the armies mobilizing, Belgrade bombarded, Belgium invaded… all that stuff. I just cant imagine it… They’ve killed Jaures.’ ‘Who’s he?’
‘A French Socialist.’
‘Those goddam French are so goddam degenerate all they can do is fight duels and sleep with each other’s wives. I bet the Germans are in Paris in two weeks.’
‘It couldn’t last long,’ said Framingham, a tall ceremonious man with a whispy blond moustache who sat beside Hunter.
‘Well I’d like to get an assignment as warcorrespondent.’
‘Say Jimmy do you know this French guy who’s barkeep here?’
‘Congo Jake? Sure I know him.’
‘Is he a good guy?’
‘He’s swell.’
‘Let’s go out and talk to him. He might give us some dope about this here murder. God I’d like it if I could hitch it on to the World Conflict.’
‘I have the greatest confidence,’ had begun Framingham, ‘that the British will patch it up somehow.’ Jimmy followed Bullock towards the bar.
Crossing the room he caught sight of Ellen. Her hair was very red in the glow from the lamp beside her. Baldwin was leaning towards her across the table with moist lips and bright eyes. Jimmy felt something glittering go off in his chest like a released spring. He turned his head away suddenly for fear she should see him.
Bullock turned and nudged him in the ribs. ‘Say Jimmy who the hell are those two guys came out with us?’
‘They are friends of Ruth’s. I dont know them particularly well. Framingham’s an interior decorator I think.’
At the bar under a picture of the Lusitania stood a dark man in a white coat distended by a deep gorilla chest. He was vibrating a shaker between his very hairy hands. A waiter stood in front of the bar with a tray of cocktail glasses. The cocktail foamed into them greenishwhite.
‘Hello Congo,’ said Jimmy.
‘Ah bonsoir monsieur ’Erf, ça biche?’
‘Pretty good… Say Congo I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Grant Bullock of the American.’
‘Very please. You an Mr ’Erf ave someting on the ’ouse sir.’
The waiter raised the clinking tray of glasses to shoulder height and carried them out on the flat of his hand.
‘I suppose a gin fizz’ll ruin all that whiskey but I’d like one… Drink something with us wont you Congo?’ Bullock put a foot up on the brass rail and took a sip. ‘I was wondering,’ he said slowly, ‘if there was any dope going round about this murder down the road.’
‘Everybody ave his teyorie…’
Jimmy caught a faint wink from one of Congo’s deepset black eyes. ‘Do you live out here?’ he asked to keep from giggling.
‘In the middle of the night I hear an automobile go by very fast wid de cutout open. I tink maybe it run into someting because it stopped very quick and come back much faster, licketysplit.’
‘Did you hear a shot?’
Congo shook his head mysteriously. ‘I ear voices, very angree voices.’
‘Gosh I’m going to look into this,’ said Bullock tossing off the end of his drink. ‘Let’s go back to the girls.’
Ellen was looking at the face wrinkled like a walnut and the dead codfish eyes of the waiter pouring coffee. Baldwin was leaning back in his chair staring at her through his eyelashes. He was talking in a low monotone:
‘Cant you see that I’ll go mad if I cant have you. You are the only thing in the world I ever wanted.’
‘George I dont want to be had by anybody… Cant you understand that a woman wants some freedom? Do be a sport about it. I’ll have to go home if you talk like that.’
‘Why have you kept me dangling then? I’m not the sort of man you can play like a trout. You know that perfectly well.’
She looked straight at him with wide gray eyes; the light gave a sheen of gold to the little brown specks in the iris.
‘It’s not so easy never to be able to have friends.’ She looked down at her fingers on the edge of the table. His eyes were on the glint of copper along her eyelashes. Suddenly he snapped the silence that was tightening between them.
‘Anyway let’s dance.’
hummed Congo Jake as the big shining shaker quivered between his hairy hands. The narrow greenpapered bar was swelled and warped with bubbling voices, spiral exhalations of drinks, sharp clink of ice and glasses, an occasional strain of music from the other room. Jimmy Herf stood alone in the corner sipping a gin fizz. Next him Gus McNiel was slapping Bullock on the back and roaring in his ear:
‘Why if they dont close the Stock Exchange… godamighty… before the blowup comes there’ll be an opportunity… Well be-gorry dont you forget it. A panic’s the time for a man with a cool head to make money.’
‘There have been some big failures already and this is just the first whiff…’
‘Opportunity knocks but once at a young man’s door… You listen to me when there’s a big failure of one o them brokerage firms honest men can bless themselves… But you’re not putting everythin I’m tellin ye in the paper, are you? There’s a good guy… Most of you fellers go around puttin words in a man’s mouth. Cant trust one of you. I’ll tell you one thing though the lockout is a wonderful thing for the contractors. Wont be no housebuildin with a war on anyway.’ ‘It wont last more’n two weeks and I dont see what it has to do with us anyway.’
‘But conditions’ll be affected all over the world… Conditions… Hello Joey what the hell do you want?’
‘I’d like to talk to you private for a minute sir. There’s some big news…’
The bar emptied gradually. Jimmy Herf was still standing at the end against the wall.
‘You never get drunk, Mr ’Erf.’ Congo Jake sat down back of the bar to drink a cup of coffee.
‘I’d rather watch the other fellows.’
‘Very good. No use spend a lot o money ave a eadache next day.’
‘That’s no way for a barkeep to talk.’