"All right, Mike, my neck is out so far it hurts. I'm going against everything I know by attaching a murder tag to this and I expect some cooperation from you. All the way, understand?"
"You'll get it."
"And since I'm putting men on it, what can I expect from you?"
"Hell," I said, "I have a date with Lola tonight. Maybe she's got a girlfriend."
Chapter Five
It was nice to get back to Lola. I found her apartment on West Fifty-ninth Street and walked up two flights to 4-C. Even before I could get my finger off the buzzer she had the door open and stood there smiling at me as if I were somebody. She was dressed in black again and there was no plunging neckline. There didn't need to be. It was easy to see that not even calico or homespun could be demure on her.
Her voice was soft as kitten's fur. "Hullo, Mike. Aren't you coming in?"
"Just try to keep me out."
I walked into the foyer, then followed her into a tiny livingroom that had been dressed up with all the gimcracks women seem to collect when they live alone. The curtains were starched stiff and the paint was fresh enough to have a lingering smell of turpentine. When I slid into an overstuffed chair I said, "New place?"
She nodded and sat down opposite me and began mixing highballs from a miniature bar set. "Brand new, Mike. I couldn't stay in... the old place. Too many sordid memories. I have a surprise for you."
"Yeah, what?"
"I'm a model again. Department store work at a modest salary, but I love it. Furthermore, I'm going to stay a model."
There was a newness about her as well as the apartment. Whatever she had been was forgotten now and the only thing worth looking at was the future.
"Your former--connections, Lola. How about that?"
"No ghosts, Mike. I've put everything behind me. What people I knew will never look for me here and it's a thousand-to-one chance they'll run into me anywhere else. If they do I can pass it off."
She handed me the drink and we toasted each other silently. I lit up a Luckie and threw the deck to the coffee table and watched her while she tapped one on a fingernail. As she lit it her eyes came up and caught me watching her.
"Mike," she said, "it was nice last night, wasn't it?"
"Wonderful." It had been--very.
"But tonight you didn't come up... just for that, did you?"
I shook my head slowly. "No. No, it was something else."
"I'm glad, Mike. What happened was awfully fast for me. I--I like you more than I should. Am I being bold?"
"Not you, Lola. I'm the one who was off on the wrong foot. You got under my skin a little bit and I couldn't help it. You're quite a gal."
"Thanks, pal." She grinned at me. "Now tell me what you came up for. First, I thought you were only fooling about coming to see me and I got kind of worried. Then I thought maybe I was only good for one thing. Now I feel better again."
I hooked an ottoman with my toe and got it under my feet. When I was comfortable I dragged in on the butt and blew smoke out with the words: "Nancy was killed, Lola. I have to find out why, then I'll know who. She was in the oldest racket in the world. It's a money racket; it's a political racket. Everything about it is wrong. The only ones who don't give a damn whether school keeps or not are the girls. And why should they? They're as far down as they can go and who cares? So they develop an attitude. Nothing can hurt them, but they can hurt others very easily... if they wanted to. I'm thinking of blackmail, Lola. Would Nancy have tried a stunt like that?"
Her hand was shaking so she had to put the glass down. There were tears in her eyes, too, but she managed a rueful smile and brushed them away. "That was rough, Mike."
"It wasn't meant for you, kid."
"I know, I'm just being silly. No, I don't think Nancy would do that. She might have been a--been no good, but she was honorable. I'd swear to that. If she wasn't what she was she could have been a decent woman. As far as I know she had no vices, but, like I told you, she had a reason for doing what she did. Perhaps it was the money. I don't know. It is a quick way to get rich if you have no moral scruples."
"Supposing money was her reason. Any idea why she might have needed it?"
"That I can't tell you. We had no confidences, merely a bond that held us together."
The circle was getting me dizzy. "Look, let's go back further. Go back to the call-girl system. Who ran it?"
For the first time her face went white. She looked at me with fear in her eyes and her lips tight against her teeth. "No, Mike!" Her voice was barely audible. "Keep away from them, please."
"What's scaring you, honey?"
It was the way I said it that made her shrink back into her seat, her fingers digging into the arms.
"Don't make me tell you things I don't want to remember!"
"It isn't things you're afraid of, Lola. It's people... what people? Why does it scare you to think of them?"
I was leaning forward now, anxious, trying to make something out of every word she spoke. She was hesitant at first, turning her head from side to side as though someone else could be listening.
"Mike... they're vicious. They don't care what they do. They... wreck lives... as easily as they'd spend a dollar. If they knew I ever said anything they'd kill me. Yes, they would. It wouldn't be the first time, either!"
It might have been Pat talking. The fear left her face and anger took its place, but there was still a quiver in her voice.
"Money is all they're after and they get it. Thousands... millions... who knows. It's dirty money, but it's good to spend. It isn't like the houses... it's bigger. One tight little group has it so organized nobody else can move, and if you try to operate alone something happens to you. Mike, I don't want anything to happen to me!"
I got up and sat on the arm of her chair, then ran my fingers through her hair, "Nothing's going to happen, baby. Keep talking... all of it."
For an answer she buried her face in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably; I could afford to wait. In five minutes she was cried out, but still shaking. There was a haunted look in her eyes that went with the tenseness in her shoulders and her nails had drawn blood from her palms. I lit another butt and handed it to her, watching while she sucked on it gratefully, taking the smoke down deep, seeking a relief of some sort.
Then she turned those haunted eyes on me and said, "If they find out I told you... or anybody, anything at all, they'll kill me, Mike. They can't afford to have people talk. They can't afford to have people even suspect. I'm afraid! And what could you do... it's been going on forever and it will keep going on as long as there are people. I don't want to die for something like that."
I picked my words carefully because I was getting mad again. "Kid," I told her, "you don't know me very well. You don't, but there are plenty of guys who do. Maybe they're able to scare the hell out of decent citizens, but they'll drop a load when I come around. They know me, see? They know damn well I won't take any crap from them, and if they get tough about it they'll get their guts opened up for them. I got a gun and I've used it before... plenty. I got a license to use it, which they don't have and if somebody gets killed I go to court and explain why. Maybe I catch hell and get kicked out of business, but if they pull the trigger they sit in the hot seat. I'm calling the plays in this game, kid. I like to shoot those dirty bastards and I'll do it every chance I get and they know it. That's why they scare easy.
"And don't you worry about anything happening to you. Maybe they'll know where it came from, but they won't do anything about it, because I'm going to pass the word that I want somebody's skin and the first time they get rough they'll catch a slug in the front or back or even in the top of the head. I don't care where I shoot them. I'm not a sportsman. I'd just as soon get them from a dark alley as not, and they know it. I play it their way, only worse, and somebody is going to worry himself into a grave over it."