“What’s the trouble?” I asked.
“Stick your shirt in your pants and pull up the zipper,” he said.
He took the wet towel which had dropped to the floor and threw it across the apartment in the direction of the bathroom. It hit with a soggy thump on the waxed floor, and Doris ran and picked it up, vanished in the bathroom and was back in a moment, to stand looking at me apprehensively. “Are you... are you all right, Donald?”
“I don’t know,” I said, and tried to grin.
“No hard feelings,” the man said. “I’m Dudley Bedford. Who are you?”
“Donald.”
“What’s your last name?”
“Lam.”
“Come again.”
“Lam.”
“L-a-m-b?” he asked.
“Lam,” I said. “L-a-m.”
Bedford thought for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed. “I get it now,” he said. “You’re on the lam, huh?”
“No,” I told him, “that’s my name.”
“Got a driving license?”
“Not yet.”
“How long you been out?”
I kept silent.
“Come on,” he said, “how long have you been out?”
I let my eyes shift from his. “I haven’t been in.”
“Okay, okay, have it your own way. Now, what the hell are you doing here?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “This girl was kind enough to offer me a steak.”
“Sit down over here,” Bedford said. “I want to talk with you awhile.”
“I don’t want to talk with you. I’m finished. I didn’t know she was married.”
“She isn’t married,” Bedford said. “There’s enough girl there for you and me and six more just like us. I don’t own her and she doesn’t own me. I’m working with her. Now, the question is, do you want to work with us?”
“No,” I said.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no.”
“You don’t know what the proposition is yet.”
“Of course I know what it is.”
“How do you know?”
“You told me.”
“What did I say?”
“You asked me if I wanted to work with the two of you and I said no.”
“Oh, I see,” he said, “smart. Like that, eh?”
“Like that,” I said. “I know what I don’t want.”
“Well, what do you want?”
“I want a chance to get a respectable job.”
“How do you know we weren’t offering you a respectable job?”
“You didn’t have the right approach.”
He said, “All right. I’ll try another approach.”
“Try it,” I invited.
“You know who I am?”
“No. You said your name was Bedford, that’s all I know.”
“You know how I got in here?”
“You rang the buzzer.”
“Smart,” he said. “Awful smart. Too damned smart. You could get another sock in the puss.”
“I probably could.”
He said, “For your information, I happen to be the owner of the car you tampered with yesterday. I saw you getting out of the car and getting into a car with Doris here. It happens that I knew Doris so I came up to find out what the hell she was doing having somebody tamper with my car.
“Now then, Donald Lam, it’s your turn. You can talk for a while.”
“What... what do you want me to talk about?”
“You can talk about anything you damn please,” Bedford said, “but if I were you, and in your position, I’d start talking about some reason why I shouldn’t go to the police and tell them that I saw you tampering with my car; that I found insulation scraped off the wires where someone had jumped the switch. In case you don’t know it, although I think you do, it’s a crime to be caught tampering with someone else’s car.
“Now then, that’s what I’d talk about.”
I looked at Doris out of the corner of my eye. She winked.
I said, “All right, what was I going to do? Your car was blocking the lady’s car so that she couldn’t open her door and get the groceries in.”
“All right, all you had to do was to go into the market and ask for me. I’d have moved the car.”
“There wasn’t time for that.”
“You must have been in a hell of a hurry.”
“She was.”
“I don’t think I’m going to take that explanation.”
“It’s the only one there is.”
He thought for a while and said, “You know, I could use you. You could do a job for me and then we’d be square. How would that be?”
“What kind of a job?”
“Something that would require a little daring, a little tact and a little discretion, and then when you got done you’d be all square with the world and if you did a good job you’d have a hundred dollars in your pocket. How would that suit you?”
“That hundred dollars in my pocket would suit me fine,” I said, “but I don’t think I want the job.”
“Why not?”
“It sounds...”
“Sounds what?” he asked, as I hesitated.
“Sounds like something you’re afraid to do yourself.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Don’t be silly,” he said. “I’m not afraid to do any job, but I’m not in a position to do this one.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Now,” he said, “you’re talking. You’re getting co-operative.”
He reached in his inside pocket, pulled out a wallet, took out a folded column from a newspaper and handed it to me.
The ad had been circled in red pencil, the ad offering a reward of two hundred and fifty dollars for anyone who was a witness to the accident on August 13th at Seventh and Main Streets in Colinda at three-thirty P.M.
“What about it?” I asked.
He said, “You were a witness to that accident.”
“I was?”
“That’s right.”
I shook my head. “I wasn’t anywhere near here. I—”
“Listen,” he said, “you do too much talking when you should be listening. Now sit tight and listen. Have you got that straight?”
“All right.”
“That’s better,” he said. “You were here in Colinda. You were walking down the street. You saw the accident. A car, a big Buick, driven by a man who didn’t seem to be paying too much attention to traffic conditions, rammed into the car ahead. That was a light sports car, one of these low, racy jobs. It was driven by a babe. You’re not sure about the make of the car. The impact caused the babe’s head to jerk back violently. You saw that much.
“The babe was all alone in the sports car. She was blonde, about twenty-six years old, and you saw her when she got out of the car. She was a good-looking babe, just about the right height and weight, neatly dressed — a good-looking chick.
“She and the man got together and showed each other their driving licenses. You went on. You weren’t particularly interested. The accident didn’t seem to be serious and they evidently didn’t think so, because when you were down the street at the next intersection the two cars drove past you. The Buick had a broken radiator and water was trickling out from it, but the other car didn’t seem to be damaged at all, except for a dent in the rear of the body. The girl didn’t seem to be hurt.”
“What do you mean, ‘seem to be’?”
“She looked and acted perfectly normal.”
“Was I walking or riding?”
“You were walking.”
“What was I doing in Colinda?”
“What were you doing in Colinda?” he asked.
“I... I don’t know. I’d have to think it over.”
“Start thinking.”
Bedford turned to the girl. “You got some writing paper here?”
She opened a drawer in a desk and handed him a sheet of stationery.