“Naw, it was already in. We keep that piece for wise guys who come around, making bets.”
“It isn’t the money,” said Johnny, “it’s the principle.”
“Sure, sure, what’s that you said? You’re so right. It ain’t the principle, it’s the money. So shell out, huh?”
Johnny looked longingly past the three men to the door leading into the dance hall. It was a long way. With the music playing again, a shout might not even be heard in the other room.
He sighed heavily. “Suppose I gave you the dollar, what then?”
“One thing at a time. The buck first...”
Johnny shrugged and reached into his pocket. He drew out his packet of money, searched for and found a dollar bill. He creased it lengthwise and returned the rest of his money to his pocket.
“Here,” he said. He held out the folded bill and as Carmella reached for it, Johnny let it fall from his fingers. Carmella grabbed automatically downwards and Johnny straightened him up with a terrific uppercut. In fact, Carmella’s body didn’t stop when it was straightened up. It went over backwards, crashing to the floor with a dull thud.
The two sleek, swarthy men stopped chewing their gum and stared at Johnny in blank amazement. Johnny circled around them, stepped over the unconscious Carmella, and walked into the dance hall.
Chapter Eighteen
In the main room, he pushed through the fringe of onlookers and got to the edge of the dance floor. He caught sight of Sam dancing painfully with Jane Ballard and moved in and out among the dancers to them.
“Sam, do me a favor. Keep an eye on the barroom, Carmella’s in there—”
“If he’s looking for trouble, Johnny...”
“He looked — and he found it. But he may wake up and want some more. Janie...”
Jane Ballard stepped out of Sam’s arms, smiled tantalizingly and moved into Johnny’s arms. Sam frowned a little, then shrugged and headed in the direction of the bar.
“I’ve been waiting for this, Johnny Fletcher,” said Jane.
“So’ve I. Where’s Nancy?”
“Dancing with the old boy. Never mind Nancy for a while. Pay attention to me. I want to find out if you’re as smart as they say.”
“They?”
“Oh, Nancy’s been talking about you, last night and again tonight, before you came.”
“You said, ‘they.’ ”
Jane nodded over Johnny’s shoulder. “Uncle Karl was up at the apartment last night.”
“Uncle Karl? Kessler’s Nancy’s uncle?”
“Didn’t you know?”
“No.” Johnny was silent for a moment. “They were talking about me?”
“And how! But then isn’t everybody at the factory? You start work one day as a laborer and the next you’re practically running the place. I suppose that’s an exaggeration, but you were given some kind of promotion, weren’t you?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
“At a big salary increase?”
Johnny chuckled. “Now, don’t tell me that’s all you’re interested in — how much money I make?”
“Frankly, Johnny, I’m quite interested in what you’re earning. If you think I’m going to marry a man earning thirty-six dollars a week and do the laundry in the kitchen sink, you’ve got a good big think coming to you. I’ll marry for love, sure, but I’m only going to fall in love with A: a man who’s got plenty of money or, B: a man who’s making money. Big gobs of it.”
“I made five hundred bucks today, Janie.”
“Now,” said Jane, “the conversation is getting interesting. So what’re we doing here at this dump?”
“A dance with Nancy and we’re off — to spend money.”
The music stopped and Johnny searched the floor for Nancy and Karl Kessler. He saw them across the room and, with Jane clinging to his arm, crossed to them. Nancy watched them approach, quite aware of Jane’s clinging arm.
“Quite a long phone call you made,” Nancy said coolly.
“I got delayed,” replied Johnny. “Your b.f. Carmella wanted to talk to me. About you.”
“He’s a liar,” snapped Nancy. “Whatever he said about me—”
“He didn’t say much. He had kind of an accident. Hurt his mouth, I guess, so he had to stop talking.”
“You had a fight with him?”
“You can’t call one punch a fight. Oh-oh, he’s with us again.”
Nancy’s eyes quickly followed Johnny’s in the direction of the barroom. Carmella and his two friends were emerging. Carmella was walking stiffly. Sam Cragg emerged from a clump of dancers and confronted Carmella. Johnny, across the room, saw Carmella talk volubly for a moment then skirt Sam and head for the door. Sam stood undecided, shrugged, and turned toward the dance floor.
Johnny disengaged himself from Janie’s grip and took Nancy’s elbow. The music struck up again and he moved away with Nancy onto the dance floor.
“At last,” said Johnny, “alone.”
“Except for five hundred people,” retorted Nancy. “I saw Janie giving you the business. She’s the biggest gold digger in Chicago. I’m going to have it out with her tonight, when we get home. Either she moves or I.”
“Well,” said Johnny cheerfully, “this is the first time in quite a while that I’ve had two girls fighting over me.”
“I’m not fighting over you. The dame just can’t resist making passes at a man.”
“Or men at her.”
Nancy sniffed. “Even Carmella. He came up to the apartment exactly twice and she made a play for him. She thinks I don’t know they were out together Wednesday.” She stopped. “Did you make a date with her?”
“I’m partial to taffy-colored hair.”
She drew back from him and looked into his face. Johnny grinned. The annoyance that had been in Nancy’s face the past half hour suddenly faded. “I still don’t like double-dates,” she said.
“Okay,” said Johnny, “we’ll try it alone tomorrow night.”
“That,” said Nancy, “is a date!”
They made a half circuit of the dance floor, Nancy dancing very close to Johnny. Then she searched his face again.
“Who’d you telephone?”
“Oh, just the detective agency.”
He felt her body stiffen under his hand. “What?”
“The detective agency that’s having me shadowed. I hired them to shadow the man who’s shadowing me.”
“You know who’s having you shadowed?”
“Of course. Fellow named Wendland.”
“Linda Towner’s fiancé?” exclaimed Nancy.
He nodded. “Know him?”
“He’s come into the office a few times — with Linda. He — he’s looked me over.”
“He stopped with looking?”
“Well, he went a little further a couple of weeks ago. Asked me what I did with my evenings. I wasn’t having any of that. If he couldn’t come right out and ask for a date, I wasn’t going to help him along. I told him I went to church every evening. Then Linda came out of her father’s office and that was that.”
“Reason Number 184 why I don’t like Freddie Wendland,” Johnny said. “Mmm, you didn’t tell me that Karl Kessler was your uncle.”
“You didn’t ask me. It’s no secret. Everybody at the plant knows it. He got me my job. He’s the only family I’ve got. My mother died when I was four years old and Uncle Karl raised me... But why should Wendland be shadowing you?”
“That’s why I’m having him shadowed; I’m trying to find out why. I never saw the man before yesterday.”
“Johnny,” said Nancy, “I don’t understand you at all. You started to work at the factory yesterday, as a laborer. Today you’re up to your neck in a murder mystery, with people shadowing you and all sorts of things happening to you.”
“That’s what a fellow gets when he doesn’t mind his own business,” said Johnny wryly.