My hand was resting on her shoulder, and she turned her head and kissed my fingers. "You're kind of wonderful, even if you do tell me yourself," she said.
The haunted look in her eyes was gone now.
Lola took another drag on the cigarette and snubbed it out, then reached for the glasses. When they were filled she handed me mine and we touched them briefly and drank deep. She finished hers with one breath in between, then set it back on the table. She was ready to talk now.
"Nobody seems to know who's behind the system, Mike. It may be one person or it may be several. I don't know the details of the pay-off, but I do know how the racket operates. It isn't a haphazard method at all, and you'd probably fall flat on your face if you knew who was involved. Right now there are some girls with an amazing social standing who were, at one time, no better than me. They got out in time. They made the right contacts between 'appointments' and married them.
"You see, the real call-system is highly specialized. The girls are of only the highest calibre. They must be beautiful, well educated, with decorum enough to mingle with the best. Their 'clients' are the wealthy. Generally an appointment means a weekend at some country estate or a cruise along the coastline on some luxurious yacht. Of course, there are other appointments less fancy, but equally as lucrative, as when somebody wants to entertain a business associate. Apparently tactics like that pay off to the extent that the money involved means nothing.
"A girl is carefully investigated before she is approached to take part in the racket. It starts when she is seen around town too often with too many men. In the course of her travels she meets other girls already in the racket who seem to have everything they want without having to do much to earn it. These acquaintances ripen into easy friendships and a few hints are passed and the girl begins to take the attitude of why should she do the same things for free when she can get paid for it.
"So she mentions the fact and introductions are made to the right people. She is set up in a nice apartment, given an advance and listed in the book as a certain type. When a party wants that type he calls, or makes the arrangement with an in-between, and you're off on your date. Whatever gifts the girl gets she is allowed to keep and some of them make out pretty well. The money that is paid for her services is passed in advance and the girl gets a cut from that, deposited to her account in a bank.
"Oh, it's all very nice and easy, a beautiful deal. There aren't any ties on the girl either. If she happens to run across someone she cares for, she's free to quit the racket and get married, and she can expect a juicy bonus for the time in service. That's one reason why there's no kickback. The girls never talk because they can't have anyone know of their associations, and the system won't force them to stay because there's nothing more dangerous than a hysterical woman.
"But there are times when one of the girls becomes dangerous. She can develop a conscience, or take to drink and find herself with a loose tongue, or get greedy and want more money on the threat of exposure. Then the system takes care of itself. The girl simply disappears... or has an accident. If we hear of it, it's a lesson to us to do one thing or another... keep quiet or get out... and keep quiet then, too.
"I learned my lesson well. When I got careless and became a disease carrier I lost my place in the system. Oh, they didn't mention the fact... one of the other girls did. I suddenly had an expensive apartment on my hands and no income, so I cashed in what I had and moved on down the ladder. I was too ashamed to go to a doctor and I didn't know what else I could do, so I started drinking. I met some more people again. Those people didn't care what I had. They got me a room in a house and I was in business again. It took me a long time to get smart, but I did, and I went to the hospital. After I came out the house was gone, Nancy was dead and you were there."
She slumped back in the chair and closed her eyes as though she were exhausted. I said, "Now some names, Lola."
Her eyes were mere slits, her voice practically a whisper. "Murray Candid. He owns some night clubs, but he's always at the Zero Zero Club. He is the contact man I met. He made all the arrangements, but he isn't the top man. The town is worked in sections and he covers the part I worked. He's dangerous, Mike."
"So am I."
"What are you going to do now?"
"I don't know, kid. You can't go in and accuse a guy without proof, even if you know you're right. The law's on his side then. I need proof... what could I use to stick him?"
"There are books, Mike... if you could find them. They'd love to do without books because they'd be almost clean then, but they can't because they can't trust each other."
"Would this Candid guy have them?"
"I doubt it. He'd keep temporary records, but the big boy has the important data."
I stood up and finished my drink. O.K., Lola, you did fine," I said. "It's something to work on... a place to start. You don't have to worry because I won't bring you into it. Sit tight around here and I'll call you from time to time. There are still things you probably know that I don't, but I can't tell what they are yet."
Lola came up from her seat slowly and slid her arms around my waist. She laid her head on my shoulder and nuzzled her face into my neck. "Be careful, Mike, please be careful."
I tilted her chin up and grinned at her. "I'm always careful, sugar. Don't worry about me."
"I can't help it. Maybe I ought to have my head examined, but I'm crazy about you."
She stopped me before I could speak by putting her finger on my lips. "Not a word, Mike. Let me do the liking. I'm no good and I know it. I'm not going to mess into your life a bit so you can let me go on liking you if I please. No obligations, Mr. Hammer, I'll just sit on the side lines and throw kisses your way, and wherever you are you'll always know that where I am is a girl you'll always have to yourself. You're a nice guy, you big lug. If I had the sense to lead a normal life you'd never get away from me."
This time I shut her up. Her body was a warm thing in my hands and I pressed her close to me, feeling tremors of excitement run across her back. Her lips were full and ripe, and whatever she had been was cleansed and there was no past for a brief instant. When I kissed her, her mouth was like a flame that fluttered from a feeble glow into a fiery torch.
I had to shove her away roughly before everything else was forgotten. We stood there, two feet apart, and my voice didn't want to come. When it did I said, "Save yourself for me, Lola, just me."
"Just you, Mike," she repeated.
She was still there in the middle of the room, tall and beautiful, her breasts alternately rising and falling with a craving neither of us could afford, when I went out the door.
The Zero Zero Club was a cellar joint off Sixth Avenue that buried itself among the maze of other night spots with nothing more than two zeros done in red neon to proclaim its location. But it was doing a lively business. It had atmosphere; plenty of it... that's why they called it the Zero Zero. Both visibility and ceiling were wiped out with cigar smoke.
Down the stairs a cauliflower-eared gent played doorman with a nod, a grunt and an open palm. I gave him a quarter so he wouldn't remember me as a piker. The clock on the wall read eleven-fifteen and the place was packed. It wasn't a cheap crowd because half of them were in evening clothes. Unlike most joints, there was no tinsel or chrome. The bar was an old solid mahogany job set along one wall, and the tables were grouped around a dance floor that actually had room for dancing. The orchestra was set into a niche that could double as a stage for the floor show if necessary.