Once again she laughed. “I can believe that! I certainly can!”
We sat there for quite a long time. And at last she said, “I'm going to have to put you out before long; I'm still a working girl, you know.”
I said, “You don't have to be. All you have to do is say the word and you can have anything you want. Anything.”
“This is rather unlike you, isn't it? I didn't think you asked for things. I thought you took what you wanted.”
“This is my new technique, remember?”
This time she didn't smile. “... Yes. I remember.” Then she said, “You frighten me at times... did you know that?”
“No. I don't mean to. Why do I frighten you?”
“You're so sure of yourself. You have such absolute confidence in your own power to get the things you want.”
“That's the way I am; when I say something, I mean it. Remember what I said that night about turning this town upside down and shaking it, and you said you would like to be around when the money started falling?”
“... I was only joking.”
I wasn't joking. Before long I'll hold this town in my own two hands. I'll make it sit up and talk just the way I want it to talk, like a ventriloquist operating a wooden dummy. Don't ask me how I'm going to do it, just believe me when I say it's going to happen.”
She looked at me for one long moment. “Yes... I can believe you.”
“You haven't asked any questions,” I said, “and I appreciate that.”
“It isn't because I haven't wondered. I wouldn't have been human, not to have wondered.”
“But you didn't ask, that's the important thing. That's the way well keep it.” I took her hand, just her hand and held it. “That coat I gave you,” I said. “That was nothing. You can have a closet full of coats exactly like it, if you want them. That Lincoln that surprised you so... you can have a fleet of them, one for every day in the week, if you feel like it. That is the way I am going to shake this town. That's the way the money is going to fall when I really start moving.”
She said nothing, but there was a brightness in her eyes, a strangeness, when I glanced at her and she didn't know that I was looking.
“Think about it,” I said.
“... Yes. I'll think about it.”
I had her hooked. I could feel it. This was her chance to stop being a working girl and really become somebody. Yes sir, beyond a doubt she was hooked.
Still, it wasn't the time to start grabbing. Instead I let go of her hand and stood up. “See you tomorrow?”
“Yes,” she said, “tomorrow.”
Let her think it over. Let her dwell on that fleet of Lincolns and that closet full of Balmain coats. I smiled and walked out of the apartment.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THAT NIGHT I slept like the dead.
I awoke slowly the next morning. I lay in bed and let consciousness creep gently, quietly into my brain, and at last I opened my eyes and saw that the sun was high, I had forgotten to draw the blinds and my drab, cramped bedroom was obscenely bright.
The first thing I thought of was Pat. Maybe I had been dreaming about her, I don't remember, but the first thing I thought of was the brightness of her eyes and the way she had looked at me the night before, and I thought pleasantly: Sure as hell, I've got her hooked.
Then I remembered Calvart.
Ah, yes, Mr. Stephen S. Calvart, and a very tough boy he had been, too. But a dead one now. So I forgot about Calvart.
I padded into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, ran some hot water and began to shave. What I needed was some coffee, but there wasn't any coffee in the apartment, and if there had been it wouldn't have done me much good because I made lousy coffee. But all that would be changed before long. Pat would soon be making my coffee in the mornings.
That thought cheered me. I began to whistle as I lathered my face. I had a feeling that this was going to be a fine day, that this was going to be the day the cards started falling on my side of the table. First Burton, and then Calvart, both of them tough boys, but now they were dead and I could forget them. Surely, I told myself, that list of Venci's doesn't contain any more names that would prove as tough as Burton and Calvart. Surely my luck is due to change!
Not until that moment did I remember the letter.
Christ, what time was it anyway? I didn't have a watch, and there wasn't a clock in the place, but I remembered Pat saying that the postman usually showed up around ten o'clock.
I finished shaving and got out to that mail box as fast as possible. The house porter came around and said it was only after nine and the postman hadn't been around yet. I breathed easier.
It was almost an hour later that the postman finally showed up. From down the hall I heard the familiar rattle of keys the minute he stepped into the building, and I was there at the mail box almost before he was.
“Good morning,” I said pleasantly.
“Mornin',” he said, not looking up. He unlocked the boxes, began sorting out a small bundle of letters, dropping the envelopes into the individual slots.
“Name?” he said.
“What?”... not understanding at first what he meant.
“Your name,” he said, still not looking at me, still busy at sorting the envelopes. “You got any mail, you might as well take it now. Before I lock up the boxes.”
“Oh, My name's O'Connor, but I'm not expecting any mail. Fact is I'm here to pick up Miss Kelso's mail for her. She asked me to. That's all right, isn't it?”
He shrugged. “Sure, it's all right, I guess, if Miss Kelso had any mail to pick up. But she don't.”
I felt my insides shrink. “You must be mistaken,” I said, forcing a laugh, forcing myself to remain outwardly calm. “You see Miss Kelso was expecting this letter; she was quite certain that it would be in this morning's mail, and she wanted me to pick it up for her. Maybe you overlooked it.”
“Didn't overlook it,” he said, completely uninterested. “Everything for this address was in that bundle. Nothin' for Miss Kelso.”
My scalp began to prickle. You sonofabitch, I thought savagely, if you're holding out on me I'll leave you dead right here in the hallway! So help me I'll strangle you if you don't come across with that letter!
He dropped some magazines on the table and began locking the boxes.
I made myself calm down. In spite of his self-assurance he must have overlooked that letter! He must have! Then he shouldered his leather mailbag, nodded and started to go.
“Please!” I said quickly, licking my lips. “I know this might sound crazy to you, but that letter is very important—to Miss Kelso. You see, well, I promised I'd get it for her, and naturally I don't want to disappoint her. I'd be very grateful if you'd look again, just to be sure. Would you do that, please?”
He said nothing. He went on thumbing through the bundles of envelopes, and I felt a sick emptiness in the pit of my stomach as bundle after bundle was dropped back into the bottom of the bag.
“Isn't it there?” I asked. “It's there somewhere, isn't it? It got misplaced?”
He finished with another bundle, the last one, and once again shouldered the bag. “Nope. Just like I told you the first time, there's nothin' here for Miss Kelso.”
That letter simply had to be there! I said: “How about another delivery? Is it possible that the letter would be delivered later in the day?”
“Not unless it's special delivery.”
By God, I thought, that would really cook me, if that letter turned out to be special delivery. But surely Ellen Foster would have noticed a thing like that—sure she would —so I immediately ruled out the possibility of special delivery.
The postman gave me one look, a sort of fishy look, then turned and went out of the building. It was all I could do to keep from yelling at him and making him go through his bag all over again. That letter just had to be there somewhere!