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“Did she ask for a divorce? Did he say no?”

“She didn’t bring anything out in the open,” she said. “Tommy just knew about it, that’s all.”

I shook my head. “There’s no reason for her to kill him,” I said. “It isn’t like she was going to inherit a million dollars. If she wanted to be through with Tommy, all she had to do was pack up and leave.”

“There could be things we don’t know about,” she said.

“My point exactly,” I said. “There could be all sorts of things you don’t know about, and until you find out what they are you can’t be sure about anything. And you certainly can’t go around accusing somebody of murder.”

“Then why did she disappear?” she demanded.

“How do I know? But I’m sure there’s more than one possible explanation. She’s liable to show up at this wake tonight, and you can ask her.”

“I just bet she is.”

“She might. How do you know?”

“If she shows up,” she said, “I’ll owe you an apology.”

“You owe me an apology now,” I said.

“I already said I’m sorry. And I did mean it.” I had my forearm up resting on the top of the seat, and now she leaned forward and rested her hand on my arm, saying, “Will you help me? I’m all alone in the world now, I don’t have anybody now that Tommy’s dead.”

I looked at her, and it just didn’t sound right. This was a very good-looking girl, with big blue eyes and smooth skin and full blond hair, and she was dressed expensively and well, and it was hard to imagine her ever being all alone in the world. I said, “Don’t you have anybody back in Las Vegas?”

She shrugged. “People I know,” she said. “But nobody I’m really close to.”

“I’m somebody you’re really close to?”

She took her hand off my arm and sat back. “No, you’re not,” she said, and looked out the side window. “There isn’t anybody, like I said.”

“Frankly,” I said, “I don’t want to get mixed up in any murder situation, and I don’t think you should either.”

“I’m doing it for Tommy,” she said, looking at me again. “Because somebody has to, and because he was the only brother I had. And because I’m the only one he has.”

“Okay,” I said. “I see your point. But you’ve got to handle things differently from now on.”

“I will,” she said. “Believe me, I will.”

“I tell you what,” I said. “I want to know where to collect my money, you want to know who killed your brother. We’ll probably overlap a little anyway, so I’ll help you for a little while. Until either you find out what you want to know or I find out what I want to know. Is it a deal?”

“Definitely,” she said, and smiled a glowing smile, and stuck her hand out. I took it, and it was cool and smooth and very delicate. “Thank you,” she said.

“I haven’t done anything yet,” I said. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“I wish you would.”

“You go to this wake,” I said. “Stay there from beginning to end. Check out everybody who comes in, find out who they are. If Tommy’s wife shows up, ask her some questions about where she’s been. If anybody that Tommy worked for shows up, ask them about where I can get my money. What time is the wake over?”

“Nine o’clock.”

“Okay. There’s a poker game I’m in on Wednesdays, I’ll be there by then, I’ll give you the number. You can—”

“Do they let girls sit in?”

Surprised, I said, “Well, we’ve had girls sit in a couple of times.”

“I’m not like them,” she said. “I promise I’m a good player.”

“Not too good,” I said, and grinned.

“We’ll see,” she said. “Do you think they’d mind if I sat in?”

“They won’t mind,” I said. “You come right along. It’s in Manhattan, 38 East 81st Street. Between Park and Madison. The guy’s name is Jerry Allen.”

“All right. I’ll be there around nine-thirty.”

“Good. Where do you want to go now?”

“Back to Tommy’s place,” she said. “That’s where I’ve been staying.”

“Okay. I’m going to have to run the meter, you know, or a cop is liable to stop us.”

“That’s all right,” she said. “I have money.”

“Fine. You already owe me six forty-five for the trip down.” I started the car and the meter and headed up to Rockaway Parkway and made my left to go back to the Belt.

“I’m glad you’re going to help,” she said.

“Only till I get my money,” I reminded her. “I don’t want to act unchivalrous or anything, but it really isn’t my scene to go looking for murderers.”

“It isn’t mine either,” she said. “But it has to be done. And I know you naturally don’t have as strong feelings about it as I do, so I won’t ask you to do any more than you want.”

“Good,” I said.

“Oh,” she said, as though it had just occurred to her, “and could I have my gun back, please?”

“Ha ha,” I said.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said.

“You mean I can’t have the gun back?”

“Right.”

“That’s mean, Chet. I need that gun, for my own safety.”

“You’ll be a lot safer without it,” I said. “And so will everybody else.” And that was the end of that conversation.

11

What with one thing and another I didn’t check the cab in till seven-thirty, and when I did I made no mention of the gunshot wound in the roof. It would have led to a very complicated conversation I didn’t particularly want to get into, and if somebody did notice the hole eventually, who was to say when it happened or that I was the one driving the cab at the time?

The reason I worked till seven-thirty, even though the game starts at seven, was because I was almost out of cash. I didn’t know if my losing streak was over or if Purple Pecunia had been a fluke, and if I lost tonight at least I didn’t want to have to write any markers in front of Abbie McKay. Don’t ask me why I thought that was so important, because I don’t know. But I did.

I’d already phoned my father a little after five that I wouldn’t be home for dinner, so I went to a greasy spoon near the garage and had franks and beans before going across town to Jerry Allen’s place. I kept being conscious of the weight of Abbie’s gun in my coat pocket. I didn’t particularly want to carry it around on me, but I couldn’t think of what else to do with it.

I took the 79th Street crosstown bus and walked up to Jerry’s apartment. And I do mean up. Jerry lives on the top floor of a five-story building with no elevator. People tend to arrive at his door out of breath.

As I did now. I rang the bell, and it was opened by Jerry himself. He’s part owner of a florist shop over on Lexington Avenue, and it’s possible he isn’t entirely heterosexual, but he isn’t obnoxious about it and none of us care what he does away from the card table, and besides that he’s a fish. I think in losing to us and hosting the game he’s sort of paying for the privilege of being accepted by a bunch of real guys, whether he realizes it or not. Anyway, he tends to laugh in an embarrassed way when he loses, and he loses a lot.

Jerry said hi, you’re late, and I breathed hard and nodded. He went back to the game and I shut the door behind myself, took off my coat, and hung it in the hall closet. Then I went into the living room, where Jerry has a nice round oak table over near the front windows, at which five guys were currently sitting. There were two empty chairs, and they were both between Jerry and Sid Falco, Sid being the guy those hoods had mentioned last night. Feeling suddenly very nervous about being in the same room with Sid Falco, a guy I had known without nervousness for about five years, I sat in the chair closer to Jerry and forced my attention on what was happening at the table.