“No, no I won’t.”
“I know you policemen,” she insisted. “You’re brutal and cruel and…”
“No, Claire, no really, I…”
“Yes, yes. You’ll take me in for questioning and…”
“Oh Jesus, Claire, I love you,” he said plaintively.
“Yes,” she said, smiling contentedly. “Isn’t it wonderful? Aren’t we so lucky, Bert?”
The Pusher, 1956
When Kling came back to the table, there was a smile on his face.
“What’s up?” Carella asked.
“Oh, nothing much. Claire’s father left for New Jersey this morning, that’s all. Won’t be back until Monday.”
“Which gives you an empty apartment for the weekend, huh?” Carella said.
“Well, I wasn’t thinking of anything like that,” Kling said.
“No, of course not.”
“But it might be nice,” Kling admitted.
“When are you going to marry that girl?”
“She wants to get her master’s degree before we get married.”
“Why?”
“How do I know? She’s insecure.” Kling shrugged. “She’s psychotic. How do I know?”
“What does she want after the master’s? A doctorate?”
“Maybe.” Kling shrugged. “Listen, I ask her to marry me every time I see her. She wants the master’s. So what can I do? I’m in love with her. Can I tell her to go to hell?”
“I suppose not.”
“Well, I can’t.” Kling paused. “I mean, what the hell, Steve, if a girl wants an education, it’s not my right to say no, is it?”
“I guess not.”
“Well, would you have said no to Teddy?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, there you are.”
“Sure.”
“I mean, what the hell else can I do, Steve? I either wait for her, or I decide not to marry her, right?”
“Right,” Carella said.
“And since I want to marry her, I have no choice. I wait.” He paused thoughtfully. “Jesus, I hope she isn’t one of those perennial schoolgirl types.” He paused again. “Well, there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll just have to wait, that’s all.”
“That sounds like sound deduction.”
“Sure. The only thing is… well, to be absolutely truthful with you, Steve, I’m afraid she’ll get pregnant or something, and then we’ll have to get married, do you know what I mean? And that’ll be different than if we just got married because we felt like it. I mean, even though we love each other and all, it’d be different. Oh, Jesus, I don’t know what to do.”
“Just be careful, that’s all,” Carella said.
“Oh, I am. I mean, we are, we are. You want to know something, Steve?”
“What?”
“I wish I could keep my hands off her. You know, I wish we didn’t have to… well, you know, my landlady looks at me cockeyed every time I bring Claire upstairs. And then I have to rush her home because her father is the strictest guy who ever walked the earth. I’m surprised he’s leaving her alone this weekend. But what I mean is… well, damnit, what the hell does she need that master’s for, Steve? I mean, I wish I could leave her alone until we were married, but I just can’t. I mean, all I have to do is be with her, and my mouth goes dry. Is it that way with… well, never mind, I didn’t mean to get personal.”
“It’s that way,” Carella said.
“Yeah,” Kling said, and he nodded. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. Then he said, “I’ve got tomorrow off, but not Sunday. Do you think somebody would want to switch with me? Like for a Tuesday or something? I hate to break up the weekend.”
“Where’d you plan to spend the weekend?” Carella asked.
“Well, you know…”
“All weekend?” Carella said, surprised.
“Well, you know…”
“Starting tonight?” he asked, astonished.
“Well, you know…”
“I’d give you my Sunday, but I’m afraid…”
“Will you?” Kling said, leaning forward.
“… you’ll be a wreck on Monday morning.” Carella paused. “All weekend?” he asked again.
“Well, it isn’t often the old man goes away. You know.”
“Flaming Youth, where have you gone?” Carella said, shaking his head. “Sure, you can have my Sunday if the Skipper says okay.”
“Thanks, Steve.”
“Or did Teddy have something planned?” Carella asked himself.
“Now, don’t change your mind,” Kling said anxiously.
“Okay, okay.” He tapped the missing-persons report with his finger. “What do you think?”
“He looks good, I would say. He’s big enough, anyway. Six-four and weighs two-ten. That’s no midget, Steve.”
“And that hand belonged to a big man.” Carella finished his coffee but said, “Come on, lover man, let’s go see Mrs. Androvich.”
As they rose, Kling said, “It’s not that I’m a great lover or anything, Sieve. It’s just… well…”
“What?”‘
Kling grinned. “I like it,” he said.
She kissed him the moment he entered the apartment. She was wearing black slacks and a wide, white, smocklike blouse which ended just below her waist.
“What kept you?” she said.
“Florists,” he answered.
“You brought me flowers?”
“No. A lady we talked to said her husband bought her a dozen red roses. We checked about ten florists in the immediate and surrounding neighborhoods. Result? No red roses on Valentine’s Day. Not to Mrs. Karl Androvich, anyway.”
“So?”
“So Steve Carella is uncanny. Can I take off my shoes?”
“Go ahead. I bought two steaks. Do you feel like steaks?”
“Later.”
“How is Carella uncanny?”
“Well, he lit into this skinny, pathetic dame as if he were going to rip all the flesh from her bones. When we got outside, I told him I thought he was a little rough with her. I mean, I’ve seen him operate before, and he usually wears kid gloves with the ladies. So with this one, he used a sledgehammer, and I wondered why. And I told him I disapproved.”
“So what did he say?”
“He said he knew she was lying from the minute she opened her mouth, and he began wondering why.”
“How did he know?”
“He just knew. That’s what was so uncanny about it. We checked all those damn florists, and nobody made a delivery at six in the morning, and none of them were even open before nine.”
“The husband could have ordered the flowers anywhere in the city, Bert.”
“Sure, but that’s pretty unlikely, isn’t it? He’s not a guy who works in an office someplace. He’s a seaman, and when he’s not at sea, he’s home. So the logical place to order flowers would be a neighborhood florist.”
“So?”
“So nothing. I’m tired. Steve sent a meat cleaver to the lab.” He paused. “She didn’t look like the kind of a dame who’d use a meat cleaver on a man. Come here.”
She went to him, climbing into his lap. He kissed her and said, “I’ve got the whole weekend. Steve’s giving me his Sunday.”
“Oh? Yes?”
“You feel funny,” he said.
“Funny? How?”
“I don’t know. Softer.”
“I’m not wearing a bra.”
“How come?”
“I wanted to feel free. Keep your hands off me!” she said suddenly, and she leaped out of his lap.
“Now, you are the kind of dame who would use a meat cleaver on a man,” Kling said, appraising her from the chair in which he sat.
“Am I?” she answered coolly. “When do you want to eat?”