And I didn’t find her. But I found somebody else.
It was after my eyes had adjusted to the comparative dimness and I’d walked to the bar and ordered a scotch. Then I turned and saw him, alone, at a small table on the far side.
I paid for my drink and went over and sat down at the table facing him. I said, “Well, so this is Canada. And I suppose the blondes up there on the stage are deer and elk. How’s the hunting been, Jim?”
Jim Palos seemed to be debating his reaction. Should he be embarrassed, apologetic, or belligerent? He decided against all three and smiled lazily as new facets of Largo’s frame became crystal clear in my mind.
Jim said, “Hello, Larry. What are you doing down here?”
“Looking for a blonde. The name she gave me was Trudy Miller but it was probably phoney and the chances are slim that she even works here but you no doubt know more about that than I do.”
He was being wary, careful, calculating. “Why should I?”
I turned the scotch glass slowly in my fingers. “If you’re worried about my reaching over and knocking your teeth out, forget it. I’m not the explosive type. I’m just going to sit here like a law-abiding citizen and ask you a few questions.”
“Then I won’t start running. I’ll just sit here too.”
Jim Palos was a slim-waisted, broad-shouldered college athlete type and my trying to knock his teeth out was ridiculous. He could have unscrewed both my ears and made me eat them while I was trying to get one punch in.
I said, “It’s funny, Jim, how I didn’t figure you in when you were a natural. I knew that to make this frame work Largo needed someone close enough to me to get his hands on my car keys long enough to duplicate them and make a new lock for the other car. He needed someone who knew my habits, my routine; someone who could give him a pattern for the frame.”
“I didn’t know anything about the frame, Larry.”
“What did he offer you — my coin machine route?”
“That’s what I’m getting. In return I gave him certain information he needed. But I didn’t know how he was going to use it.”
“Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t but you certainly knew he meant me no good fortune.”
“I suspected as much.”
“Maybe you didn’t want to know.”
Jim Palos seemed to be trying to find words. He said, “Larry, this is a tough world. People have to look out for themselves. I’m sorry you had to get in the way of the steam roller. You’re a real nice guy and it’s a shame.”
“Well, thanks a lot for your good wishes. I’ll pin them on the wall of my cell.”
“I really am sorry.”
If he repeated that once more I was going to have to clout him even if the police got me three minutes later. I said, “You didn’t say what you’re doing here. Is this a Largo hangout?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m looking for Trudy Miller too.”
“What’s your interest. Have you figured out a way to cross Largo and me at the same time? That would really put you on top.”
“A guy likes to play all the angles. But I can give you a tip. The girl’s real name is Maggie Lynch. She’s a singer and she used to work here but she left town.”
“How did you get wind of her?”
“Oh, I hear things. I get around a lot.”
Regardless of my wanting to kill him, I felt he was telling me the truth about the blonde. And, screwy as it sounded, I believed his bit about wishing me no harm when he said, “You ought to get out of here. Hide somewhere. The cops have got the dragnet out for you.”
I said, “I think I’ve got you figured, Jim. You’re the kind of a thief who won’t kill the guy you heist unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
This got through to him. He lowered his head and I detected embarrassment. “Why don’t you get out of here and hide somewhere?” he asked.
I had to get away quick or slug him. “Okay, rat. And I’ll do one more thing for you.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll try and get you a pass to my execution. You’ll enjoy it,” and I got up and walked out.
Back into the street; back into the neon nightmare but without even the blonde phantom now. Just the nightmare of waiting for a cop to tap me on the shoulder. And as I walked I wondered why I was here on River Street in the first place. I should have known it wouldn’t work.
The thing to do was give myself up and get it over with. The more I thought about it the more sense it made. I wasn’t built for big drama; no good at all at fleeing injustice, getting out of the country wearing a false beard and a changed name. Whatever was coming, I had to face it and there was no time like the resent.
I went into a phone booth and called Connie.
Her hello came back to me in a small hushed voice and I said, “Hon, I’m afraid I’ve had it. The blonde isn’t available. Largo would have seen to that. I should have had more sense than to hunt and so I’m giving it up and turning myself in.”
“Larry. Please!”
“Please what, baby? They’ll pick me up any minute regardless. The dragnet’s out as we criminals put it.”
“But, darling. There’s one more thing. I just thought of it. Wouldn’t it help your case if that woman — that Gertrude Armitage — that witness — realized the girl you were riding with wasn’t Gloria Dane?”
“I suppose it might, but she swore otherwise.”
“But she might change her mind if I talked to her.”
“Now listen here Connie! I told you to stay out of this. The woman believes her own story and nobody can change her.”
“I’m going to try.”
“You’re not. You’re going to stay clear.”
“I’m going over there. You come here and wait for me. I’ll leave the key under—”
“Connie! You stay there until I come. If you won’t have it any other way, I’ll go and see the Armitage woman, okay?”
“Not you. She’s probably afraid of you. She’d call the police.”
“But I don’t want you—”
“I’m going, Larry.”
“All right... all right. We’ll go together. You wait there for me.”
She paused. “Be careful. Be very careful.”
I hung up and went back to the car...
Four blocks later, I was sure they had me; when a car behind mine seemed over-intent on not getting lost in the traffic shuffle.
I cut sharply off the boulevard into a side street and when the headlights followed me up an alley and back on the main thoroughfare, I was sure.
But why didn’t they cut me off and pick me up? Instead, they seemed satisfied to act as dubious escort and I thought of the old one about the police letting the criminal lead them to his confederates; except there weren’t any confederates and the police ought to have had sense enough to know it.
This did present a problem. Connie. I didn’t want them following me to her place and possibly picking us up together and with this necessity looming, I came up with an invention; my warehouse. There, evading them was simple. I drove in the front through the warehouse door, moved a few machines away from the back exit I never used and drove out again through the alley.
This seemed to outwit them and I headed for Connie’s place. But then my troubles really started when I got no answer from her bell and found the door key buried in a potted palm where she’d left it for me a couple times before.
She’d gone to see the Armitage woman on her own.
As I gunned off in that direction, I had one forlorn hope of cutting her off — keeping her out of this mess. That hope lay in the fact that she had no car and had walked or called a cab. In either case, I might be ahead of her. It was a long walk and sometimes cabs were a little late in answering suburban calls.