He was a swell old bum and when I was busted from the force he was heartbroken, wouldn't take a dime till I convinced him I was making more as a private dick. In the army, this last time, I kept sending him his weekly dough. When he died—in his sleep—Max sent me the little packet of money orders they'd found in his crummy room. Never cashed a one, even though he was back to scuffling for eating money. I was in the hospital then and I lost all the dough in a crap game the day I got the packet. I almost wanted to lose... seemed to me the money was no good. If he'd used it for food he might have been still alive.
I stroked Mady's soft hair, ran my hands over her strong neck... she'd have liked Pops. Whenever I thought of him I also couldn't help but wonder how I would have made out with Louis, what it would have felt like being heavyweight champ of the world. Or would I now be a broken-down has-been, working as a bouncer in some dive?
I got up, took a pill and went to the bathroom and then back to bed. Mady slept till eleven.
It was a hot day and we took a quick dip in the Pacific—the water as cold as I expected it to be. Mady seemed to have snapped out of her mood. She was a good swimmer and I clowned around with my few strokes and worried about the cold. Then we dried ourselves and raced across the sand to the cottage and the hot coffee that was waiting. There was a small item in the papers about Harry's death. Joe called and still was jittery, but nobody had been to see him.
I took the camera and went down to the corner drugstore and put in a long distance call to Atlanta. My boy said, “Been waiting for you. Got all the answers—and in one day.”
“What'd you learn?”
“First, that there's another seventy-five bucks due me.”
“I'm good for it. I'll wire it to you immediately.”
“Sure, Mr. Smith. Or is it Brown or Jones this morning?”
“Stop playing and tell me what you have. Captain Daniels will vouch for me. I'll send the money at...”
“I have a better idea. Suppose you wire me the rest of the bundle, then call back? Even let you reverse the charges for prompt payment. Best you buy that, Smithie.”
“Okay, you great big believer in your fellow man.”
“Says on a buck, In God We Trust, and that's good enough for me. Be waiting. Don't be too long, I have a big day ahead of me here.” He hung up and I was sore but I couldn't blame him. Besides, I didn't want him calling Max.
I took the bus to town, returned the camera and got my deposit. I almost patted the dumb clerk for giving me the wrong bulb—he'd done us a favor. I wired the dick another seventy-five, and having a few hours to kill, I dropped in to see Max. His face looked too neat, he must have taken a store shave. He said, “Flo was in, looking for you. Kept nagging me for your address.”
“Bet she wants to cry on my shoulder because poor Harry is gone.”
Max grinned. “She slings some fine stuff. Man be kind of tempted to try it—even a happily married man like me.”
“You wouldn't have to try very hard with Flo.”
“I know,” Max said sadly. “The tough part would be shaking her off.” He bit into a cigar and shook his head, all in one impossible motion. “Man goes after a new woman like she was something unknown, all the time expecting to find it different. Think women go after it the same way?”
“Why don't you ask Libby?”
Max laughed. “I can see that—she still blushes when I pinch her ass. Speaking of ass, Flo said to call her at Harry's office.”
“Anything new on Harry?”
“What can be new on a suicide? That jerky office boy he has—had—a Mr. Austin—was ranting about the Reds must have pushed him out the window, but that's crazy. You think Harry was on the stuff and his junk told him to jump? Sometimes his eyes looked as watery as a hophead's.”
“Maybe. Always was on the verge of blowing his top —last night he did it. Always nervous.”
“You mean he was always jumpy!” Max said, roaring with laughter.
“Television is calling you, Max. Maybe I'll see Flo, maybe not. If she calls, just say you told me.” I went out and stopped for a glass of milk and took another pill, then walked slowly over to the Grace Building. Flo couldn't know anything, but it was best I see her.
The bag of bones at the reception desk was red-eyed and there was a wreath of flowers on the office desk with some small black lettering across it. Harry would have been astonished that anybody cried for him.
She said, “We're closed today due to the death of....”
“Where's Flo?”
“Miss Adler?”
“Miss Florence Daisy Mae Adler.”
She tossed her head, asked, “Who's calling?”
“Matt Ranzino.”
She announced me over the phone, then buzzed the door. As I opened it, the creep came out of what had been Harry's office, and solemnly ushered me in. Or he could have been playing guard. He had on a dark suit and a black tie and didn't look any more dismal than usual. The jerk had his honorary tin cop's badge pinned to his vest, for some reason.
Flo was sitting behind Harry's desk, a cigarette pasted to her sultry red lips. There wasn't anything funereal about her, or the dress that seemed cut down to her belly button. She said, “Matt baby! Take a seat, I have much talk for... us.”
I sat in one of the new chairs that felt like you'd fallen into a bucket—at first. Thatcher blinked and didn't sit down. “Miss Adler,” he said, “I don't think it's proper to discuss business so soon after Mr. Loughlin's tragic death. Couldn't this wait?”
“Oh, shut up,” Flo said. “And beat it!”
Austin looked as though he was going to whimper, but took a walk. When he was gone Flo flashed a happy smile at me. “How do you like the set-up? I'm boss here now.”
“How come?”
“Harry had some old judgments against him, so he kept his stock—75%—in my name. Now it's all mine.”
I stared at her. “Harry did that?”
“Sure.”
“Come, Flo, Harry wasn't that simple.”
She shrugged. “He was covered—had something on me, a real tough rap that.... No sense telling you about it. Why do you think I stood for his being a louse?”
“For the car, the clothes.”
“That helped, but he had me against the wall. Oh, I had to make out a will in his favor, lot of other legal razzle-dazzle, but he didn't bother changing anything before he tried the wild blue yonder. That's something I can't figure. Harry wasn't the kind to...? Hell with it, and him. Matt, I want you as a partner.”
“No.”
“Harry was knocking down a clear twenty grand a year, and he was only starting. I'll give you ten— that's a good shake. And if we're together, we have all the twenty.”
“Baby, I don't want any part of this outfit.”
Flo shrugged again and everything was like jelly. “I don't know what it's all about, but it's big dough, from the back pocket. Matt, I need you to operate. Need a strong man to run things.”