“It’s Aline Ferris. I lost my bag and haven’t a penny to pay my taxi fare. I want to borrow a couple of dollars.”
“Aline!” There was an odd breathlessness in Doris’ voice, and she hesitated a moment. Then she said effusively, “Of course, darling. Wait right there until I get my purse. Sure two dollars will be enough?”
“Plenty. The fare’s only ninety, but I want to give him a good tip because he was nice and trusted me.”
“Just a second.” Doris left the window, but, curiously, no more lights were turned on inside. She was back in a moment and thrust the bills through the open window. “You better hurry on home for a few winks, and I’ll be dying to hear all about it tomorrow. Darling, who was that character you were smooching with such abandon just before you left the party?”
“How about inviting me in for a drink now so we can talk?”
“Honestly, darling, I’m dead.” Doris stifled an elaborate yawn and started to close the window. “See you tomorrow.”
Aline said all right and thoughtfully climbed up the stairs. She handed the driver the bills and asked him for half a dollar in return.
She let him drive away because she wanted him to list this as her address. As she stepped back onto the sidewalk, she recognized Ralph’s familiar Mercury convertible parked just beyond Doris’ entrance.
Dull anger tore at her. That was it. That was why Doris was determined to get rid of her. Ralph and Doris!
She went down the stairs again and put her finger firmly on the bell. The dim light was still on in the rear, and Aline didn’t have to wait so long this time. There was a rustle of movement inside, and the window near the door opened cautiously.
“Aline?” Doris sounded frightened and a little angry. “I told you I was too tired and sleepy…”
“I want to come in and talk to you,” Aline broke in firmly. “Unlock the door.”
“I shan’t. You must be drunk.”
“I’m cold stone sober,” Aline said flatly, “which is probably more than you are. I sent the taxi on and I’m coming in to talk to you.”
“You’re not! Go away. I won’t let you in.”
“I’ll stand here and ring your bell until you do, if it takes the rest of the night.”
“Ring it, then. Go ahead and ring it.” Doris’ voice rose hysterically. “I’m going back to sleep.” She closed the window with a thud.
Aline compressed her lips and put her finger on the bell and held it there. She couldn’t hear the bell ringing, but knew that it was. She couldn’t hear anything else, either, and the dim light in the rear went out, but she could imagine with grim amusement the frightened and whispered colloquy that must be going on in Aline’s bedroom.
Ralph and Doris!
“What are we going to do, Ralph?”
“Damn it, why didn’t you let her in and give her a drink and get rid of her?”
“I was afraid to. Suppose she’d insisted on coming into the bedroom for something? Besides, I thought she’d go on home. What are we going to do? I can’t stand that bell going on and on.”
Well, it was going on and on, Aline told herself angrily. On and on and on until Doris opened the door and let her in.
Was there any other way out of the apartment for Ralph? She didn’t think so. Possibly a rear window. But she vaguely recalled that the bedroom was jammed close to the brick wall of another building, and she didn’t believe there was room for him to squeeze through.
Why didn’t they just give up and let her in and face it out? After all, she didn’t have any real strings on Ralph. He could sleep with anyone he desired. She wasn’t jealous. She was just mad. And terribly frightened by what had happened, and determined to talk to Doris at once and learn as much as she could about events at the party after she had blacked out.
Doris would be able to tell her a lot. Ralph, too, if she could convince him that she didn’t care if he was with Doris and that all she wanted to find out was what had happened at Bart’s tonight. She recalled what Doris had said a few minutes ago.
“Who was that man you were smooching so hard just before you left the party?”
Aline didn’t remember any special man nor any special smooching. There had just been the regular gang around before she drank that third martini. Just the normal, light-hearted kisses and laughing innuendos.
Could it have been the dead man in the bathroom? If he had come to the party after she blacked out, and if she had gone for him the way Doris implied, then that might be the answer, or, at least, part of the answer.
She did do that sort of thing sometimes, Aline thought ruefully, as her right forefinger grew numb from determined pressure on the bell. Usually with strange men, and always when she was blacked out. Alcohol stripped away all her civilized inhibitions and released animal instincts that demanded sex. Curiously she always seemed to pick men who would be repulsive to her in her sane moments. Like the dead man. She shuddered involuntarily. He was one she wouldn’t have given a second glance when she was sober.
Would Doris never come to the door? She had to. I should have told her in the beginning that I knew Ralph was in there, thought Aline. Then they would have realized that nothing would be gained by keeping me out. I should have made her understand that I didn’t care a hoot in hell about Ralph. I can’t tell her why I want to know about tonight, of course. I can’t admit I was completely blacked out and don’t know anything at all that happened. I can’t admit that to anyone. Not yet. Not until I learn a lot more than I know now.
When a bright light came on in the living room, Aline took her finger off the bell. She heard the door-latch being released, and then the door opened.
“All right,” Doris said. “I give up. Come on in and stop that infernal racket.”
Doris was a short, plump blonde with rounded features that normally wore an all-embracing smile for the world to see. Now, her eyes were stormy, her full lips compressed with anger. She wore a blue robe belted tightly around her waist, and pink satin mules.
Aline stepped inside and said swiftly, “I’m sorry, Doris. Truly I am. But I had to talk to you. Look, if you’ve got a man in your bedroom, don’t mind me. I’m not on the vice squad, and God knows I’m not interested in your morals.”
Color flamed in Doris’ cheeks. “What a horrible thing to say. What ever made you think that?”
Aline shrugged and looked around the small, disordered sitting room. “I couldn’t think of any other reason why you kept me locked out.”
“I told you I’ve got a hangover and am dying for sleep,” wailed Doris. “Can’t you wait till morning?”
“No. This can’t wait.” Aline twisted her hands and her eyes were forlorn. “I’m frightened. I did it again tonight at Bart’s. Sort of. Passed out, you know. Not completely, but there are a few blank spots. I want to know everything I did. Was I pretty awful towards the end?”
Doris sighed and sat down at one end of the shabby studio couch and motioned Aline to a chair nearby. “Not too awful, I guess,” she said judicially. “How much do you remember? Having the fight with Ralph?”
Aline looked at her sharply, wondering whether Doris suspected that she knew Ralph was in the bedroom listening. Or didn’t she realize that Aline had recognized his car parked outside?
After carefully considering several responses, Aline said weakly, “A fight with Ralph? What did we fight about? I don’t remember it at all.”
“About you and Dirk, I guess.” Doris’ voice was barbed. “You certainly remember Dirk being there.”
Oh, yes. Aline remembered Dirk, big and blond and boyishly handsome. It was the first time she had seen him at a party without his wife. She remembered sitting on a window seat with him, a little removed from the others, who milled around with drinks in their hands. She recalled Dirk’s twisted smile as he explained that he was a misunderstood husband who needed comforting. So, she had comforted him a little. It hadn’t been anything important. Pleasant at the time, but not important. Dirk kissed easily and well, and his big hands were gentle and knowing in their caresses.