Something whisked by against the outside of the paper screen walling him in. Like the loose edges of somebody’s clothes flirting past. The light was on his side, it was dark out there, so he couldn’t see any shadow to go with it. Just that rustling sound and the hasty pat-pat of running feet accompanying it. Whoever it was, was in a big hurry—
The pat-pat went on past until it had nearly died out, then turned, started back again quicker than before. Then it stopped right opposite where he was. There was an instant’s breathless pause...
Then the slide whirred back and a blond girl stumbled in toward him, both arms stretched out in mute appeal for help. He was on his feet by the time she’d covered the short space between them. He got a blurred impression of what she looked like as she threw herself against him, and stood panting and trembling within the circle of his arms.
She was all in. Two or three flecks of red splattered the front of her gold evening gown — even her dress was out of place in a spot like this. She hadn’t any shoes on, but you always had to leave your footgear at the door when you came in. Her blond hair made a tangled shimmer around her head and her attractive face was contorted with sheer panic. Her breathing was the quick, agonized panting of a hunted thing.
Hollinger looked down into her eyes — and whistled. He could tell by the contraction of the pupils that she’d been drugged. An opium pill, maybe, or morphine. He couldn’t be sure whether it hadn’t taken effect yet or she was just coming out of it.
Sound suddenly broke from her lips and she sobbed against his shoulder. “Say you’re real. Tell me I’m not seeing things!” Her fingers pressed against his chest. “Hide me! Don’t let them get me! They’re after me but I didn’t do it... I know I didn’t do it!”
He had squared off toward the opening in the slide, because the trampling of feet was coming this way now and he wanted to be ready.
She pulled at his blouse wrinkling it in her fingers. “No, don’t fight them. Don’t you see — that would be the worst thing you could do. It’s not just people, it’s the police—!”
Police? Hollinger swore. He took a quick step over and slammed the slide shut. He kept his hand on it tentatively, as though not sure of what he was going to do yet. He’d get the brig sure if he tangled with them, after the warning they’d been given on shipboard. But — this girl. Well, she was a girl, she was American, she was in a jam. He had to help her — he wasn’t any heel.
“What’re they after you for?” he asked. “What did you do?”
“They think I — murdered the man I came in with. I found him stabbed to death just now — right in the room with me when I... I woke up. I know — it sounds silly. They’ll never believe it.” She gestured helplessly toward the crimson flecks on her bodice. “This blood all over me — and the dagger in my lap when they came in— Oh please, get me out of this awful place! I know I didn’t do it. I know I couldn’t have—”
He eyed her ruefully.
She seemed to sense what was passing in his mind. She smiled wanly. “No,” she said. “It wasn’t anything like that. I’m not— The man was my fiancé. We were going to be married tomorrow. We were slumming. We stopped in here—”
His indecision didn’t last long. There wasn’t time. The oncoming shuffle of feet had stopped right next door. Hollinger grabbed up the geisha’s discarded robe. “Get into that kimono quick. They’ll be here in a second — maybe we can swing it.” He jumped back to where he’d been sitting originally, collapsed cross-legged on the floor. When she’d wrapped the garment around her, he pulled her down beside him, snatched off his white cap, poked it inside-out and jammed it down over her telltale golden hair.
He pulled her against him. “Pardon me,” he said with a tight grin. “It’s our only chance. Keep your face turned over my shoulder. Don’t let that dress show through the kimono.”
“What’ll I do if they talk Japanese to me?”
“I’ll do the talking. You just giggle the way all these gals do.” His arm tightened around. “Okay, lady. This is it. Here they are!”
The slide hissed back. Three bandy-legged little policemen stood squinting into the lantern-light at them. Behind them was a fourth little yellow man in plain clothes. And in back of him, huddled a group of customers, craning and goggling.
Hollinger put down one of the saki-cups, and wiped his mouth with his free hand. “Well,” he said slowly, “where’s the fire? What’s the attraction? We’re not giving any show in here.” No one budged. “Scram!”
“You see gal?” the detective demanded. “You see yellow-hair gal run by here — ’Merican gal like you?”
“Haven’t you got eyes?” Hollinger growled. “This is the only gal in here — Mitsu-san. Go away, won’t you?”
The plainclothesman snapped something in Japanese at the huddled figure. Hollinger’s growl turned nasty. “Skip it!” The girl, quaking against him, managed to produce a high-pitched giggle. Hollinger warmed inside. A good girl that. Scared, sure. But nervy. A fine girl...
“Fool gal,” the detective snapped contemptuously. His gaze rested on the saki-cups. He smiled drily, made a sign of wheels going around close to his head, bowed elaborately. “So sorry to disturb. Pliss overlook.” The three policemen bowed likewise, like stooges.
“Sayonara,” said Hollinger pointedly. “Goodbye.”
The screen slammed shut again. Someone barked a curt order, and the trampling feet moved on. The crowd continued to stop every few yards, looking into the other cubicles.
“Don’t move yet a while,” Hollinger said out of the corner of his mouth, close to her ear. “Wait’ll they get further away.” Just as she was about to straighten up, he caught her quickly, held her fast. “Darn it, stay put!”
The screen eased back again, with less noise than before, and one of the geishas peered in. “I bring saki you order—” She glanced in slant-eyed surprise at the form nestled against him. “You find other girl?” She set the tray down on the floor. There was suspicion peering through the thick orange, green and purple make-up that masked her face.
“Yeah. I found new girl. I like better than girl I had before. So long.” He jabbed his thumb at the screen.
The geisha backed out submissively, still peering curiously at the other girl.
The slide closed again. Hollinger let his arms fall. “All right now.” The girl straightened and her fingertips pressed tight against her mouth.
“Come on. We’ve got to step on it. I think she’s on to us. She’s going to give us away. He jumped to his feet, took a quick look out, then motioned to her to follow. She obeyed, holding herself very stiff and straight.”
II
The clamor at the front hadn’t abated any. Through a gap in the partitions he caught a glimpse of two white-garbed internes bringing in a stretcher. There was no out that way.
The girl looked at him in terror. “We’re trapped back here. We’ll never be able to get through all these people. I’m sorry I ever got you into this.”
“There’s got to be a back way out.” He threw an arm protectively about her. “Lean up against me, like you were dizzy. We’re going out for a breath of air, if they ask us. Take little pigeon-toed steps like you were going to fall flat on your face any minute. Buckle your knees a little, you’re too tall. Keep your head down—”
They wavered through the maze of paper-walled passageways, sometimes in darkness, sometimes in reflected lantern-light. The place was a labyrinth; all you had to do to make new walls was push a little. The only permanent structure was the four corner-posts and the topheavy tile roof.