Joe didn’t say anything.
Raven started a complicated move of shunting the train to the engine−house. Little Joe couldn’t understand why he didn’t just lift the train off the track and put it in the shed. He thought it would save a lot of time.
“Well, what is it?” Raven repeated for the third time.
“Spade’s bellyachin’.”
“So what?”
“He says we’re ruinin’ his taxi business.”
Raven at last got the engine in the shed. “That’s too bad,” he said, stubbing out his cigarette in an ash−tray by his side. Then, as an afterthought, he said, “Are we?”
“His taxis take the floosies to their joints,” Little Joe explained.
Raven paused and thought. “I don’t want trouble with Spade,” he said at last. “He’s a tough egg, ain’t he?”
“You bet he is,” Little Joe said.
Raven began to unload some tiny milk churns on to the platform. “I’ll get Lefty to take care of him,” he said. “We ain’t had any shootin’ in the town yet, have we?”
Little Joe looked worried. “Gee!” he said. “We don’t want to shoot Spade.”
“Nice to hear your views,” Raven said, recoupling the line of trucks; “I’ll make a note of that.”
Little Joe shifted uneasily. “You’re the boss,” he said hastily.
“Sure.” Raven turned the switch and the trains began to move slowly along the track.
Little Joe waited for a little while, and as Raven continued to ignore him he went out, closing the door softly behind him.
Raven turned his head and looked at the closed door. A cold, far−away look came into his eyes. “So we don’t want to shoot Spade?” he said softly. “These guys are gettin’ soft.”
2
August 17th, 11.25 a.m.
WHEN GRANTHAM rang the bell the negro doorman let him in.
Grantham was looking old and tired. He asked for Carrie in a voice tight with nerves.
Joe showed him into a little reception−room. “She’ll be right down, boss,” he said. His big eyes searched Grantham’s face questioningly, but Grantham turned away and felt for his cigarette−case.
When Carrie came in she found him pacing up and down the room, smoking furiously. She shut the door.
“What’s the matter?” she asked abruptly. She always liked to get straight to the point.
Grantham motioned her to a chair. “Things ain’t goin’ right,” he said shortly. “I don’t know what the hell Raven’s playin’ at.”
Carrie rested her big hands on her knees. “He’s a bad man,” she said. “It was wrong to let him take over.”
Grantham threw away his cigarette impatiently. “Don’t go over that again!” he snapped. “I couldn’t stop him. He’s playin’ some deep game, and I don’t know what’s at the back of it.”
Carrie shook her head. “One of his hoods threw vitriol over a hustler yesterday. All the girls are too scared to work. It’s crazy, Grantham. Most of the business is done on the streets. It’s only a certain class that come to the houses.”
Grantham nodded. “We’re losin’ money,” he said. “I’m goin’ along right now to have it out with him.
Before I see him I wanted to know about the Perminger girl. She all right?”
Carrie smiled. “Sure she’s all right.”
Grantham stroked his jaw with a hand that shook a little. “That dame may be very useful to us if Raven doesn’t behave,” he said. “You understand that, don’t you?”
Carrie nodded.
“Where is she?”
“Upstairs. Do you want to see her?”
Grantham hesitated, then he stood up. “No. It’s better not for me to see her yet. I’m relyin’ on you, Carrie.
You’ve got to keep her the way we want herdon’t forget that.”
“It’s all right.”
“He hasn’t been here, has he?”
“I haven’t seen him. Lefty’s been in. He looked the girls over and took all their names.”
Grantham’s eyes snapped. “Did he see the Perminger dame?”
Carrie nodded. “Sure. He went all over the house. He came in unexpected. I couldn’t get her out of the way.”
“Did he speak to her?”
“He spoke to them all.”
“Did she behave all right?”
“I was right behind her.” Carrie gave a cruel little smile. “He just thought she was one of the girls.”
“You’re sure? She didn’t do or say anythin’ that’d give a guy like Lefty ideas?”
“It was all right, I tell you,” Carrie said a little shortly.
Grantham sighed. “I’m tippin’ you, Carrie. If Raven knew about this, he’d finish both of us.”
Carrie shrugged a little. “Maybe it’d be better to get rid of her,” she said. “It’s a pity. She’s a nice bit of meat.”
Grantham suddenly stiffened. “You ain’t usin’ her?”
“Why not? She uses food, don’t she? I don’t have dead heads around here.”
“You mean you’ve hired her out?”
“Only to the guys who I can trust. She doesn’t know who’s a stranger or not. If she opens her mouth she’ll get another lickin’. You’d be surprised how she hates a lickin’.” Carrie laughed.
Grantham shook his head. “I don’t like it,” he said.
“I know what’s right,” Carrie returned. “She’s lost all her starch nowthat was the only way to make her lose it.”
“All right, I’ll leave it to you,” Grantham said, opening the door. “I’ll go and see Raven.”
When he had gone Carrie went upstairs. She went into the big reception−room, where the girls were getting ready for the evening’s work.
Lulu was painting her nails. Julie and Andree were doing some limbering−up exercises. Fan, her face screwed up with concentration and the tip of her tongue protruding, was writing a letter. In the far corner of the room Sadie sat in a yellow wrap, reading the newspaper.
They all looked up when Carrie came in. Fan sneered and returned to her letter. Carrie was aware of the long look of hatred that she got from Sadie. That didn’t worry her any.
She said, “YouI want you.”
Sadie put down the newspaper and got to her feet. Her face was now a hard, cold mask. “What is it?”
“Come on out here. I want to talk to you.”
They went out together. Sadie followed Carrie into her own little room.
“You hate me, don’t you?” Carrie said with a little grin. “Well, that’s all right. But you’d hate the guy who got you here a damn sight more, wouldn’t you?”
Sadie stood by the door. She didn’t say anything.
Carrie said, “Do you know why you’re here?”
Still Sadie didn’t say anything. Her eyes smouldered with bitter hatred for the mulatto.
“You’ve seen too much,” Carrie told her. “You saw the guy who killed Mendetta.”
Sadie flinched.
“Yeah,” Carrie went on, “he’s a bad guy. He runs this house. One of these days, baby, you’re goin’ to get a chance of puttin’ that guy where you want him. That’ll make you happy, won’t it?”
Sadie clenched her fists. “One of these days,” she said, “I’m goin’ to even the score out all round. You don’t think you can get away with this for ever. You’ve turned me into one of these women because I haven’t got the guts to fight you, but I’m not forgetting. Make no mistake about that.”
Carrie laughed. “Go back to your room. You’ve got to work tonight.”
Sadie went out silently.
3
August 17th, 10.30 p.m.
LEFTY walked softly down the dark alley, his hands in his coat pockets, his hat drawn well over his eyes, and a cigarette glowed in the darkness, moving up and down as he shifted it in his mouth.