About par for Fun City, Nina thought angrily to herself. She suspected at once that her husband was behind the purse-snatching episode and was sure that it was just a gambit in whatever crazy scheme he had cooked up, but the indifference of all the other people to the robbery in broad daylight really got to her. Impulsively… and knowing at the same time that it was probably exactly what Axel would want her to do… she went up to the distraught girl and put her arm around her.
"Don't worry, honey," she said sympathetically. "My husband will get your purse back for you."
"It-it had everything in it," the brunette sobbed brokenly. "All my money, my driving license…" She caught hold of herself and looked gratefully at the slim elegant blonde stranger who had taken pity on her. "God, it even had the key to the locker where I checked my suitcase in it!" she suddenly remembered. "I won't be able to get my suitcase out."
"Don't worry," Nina comforted her again. "Here comes Axel now… my husband. Oh… oh! I'm afraid he doesn't have your pocketbook though." She nodded toward Axel who was barging toward them through the crowd. He was panting like a winded bull, and his heavy square-jawed face was all ruddy with his exertions.
"Lost him, damn it all!" he growled thumping the tip of his cane on the sidewalk. "Think anybody would try to stop him? They just got in my way, that's all. Stupid bastards!" Then suddenly his grim expression vanished and his face split in a charming smile. "Well, I'll be damned," he said to the distressed brunette. "Aren't you Miss Wright from the realtor's office in Laketon, Maryland? I'm Axel Borman. Bought a farm there from Mr. Chisolm last summer. Remember?"
What a God-awful ham you are, Axel, Nina thought affectionately as she watched this minor miracle unfold right in front of her eyes on the sordid streets of Greenwich Village. Recognition dawned in June Wright's eyes and soon her hand was tucked under Axel's other arm as he towed both the women along Fifth Avenue toward Washington Square Park.
"We live just down the street," he was saying to June. "I'm afraid your purse is gone for good, but I'm sure I can get your bag out of the locker without any trouble. You just come up to the apartment and rest for a few minutes while I make a couple of phone calls…"
Wow, those few minutes had really stretched, June was thinking a little woozily to herself about four hours later as she sat cozily curled up in one corner of an enormous couch, warming her second large snifter of after-dinner Brandy-and-Benedictine in the palm of her hand. She was sitting in what was beyond doubt the most lavish and tastefully decorated living room she had ever seen. It was like something right out of the movies, only much better. In fact, the whole evening had seemed enchanted and unreal, right from the minute Mr. Borman had recognized her and brought her here. Why, she was almost glad her pocketbook had been stolen, even if there was over sixty dollars in it, just to get a glimpse of the way Mr. Borman and his charming wife Nina lived. The meal they had eaten, prepared by the Borman's personal French chef, was probably worth sixty dollars all by itself, she figured. She had never tasted such delicious food, and every time she looked out of the dining room window she felt as if she had the whole city of New York at her feet.
The Bormans lived in a duplex penthouse on top of one of the few high-rise buildings in that area. Standing on the terrace before dinner she had been able to look way down at the long rows of shabby brownstone houses and dingy brick tenements like the ones she had been looking for Tiffany in. After two cocktails she had broken down and told Nina and Axel… it was hard for her to call him Axel, he was so imposing, but he had insisted… anyway, she had told them about Tiffany's running away with Cliff. She'd covered up the real story by saying they had eloped together… And about the telegram and how when Cliff didn't meet her at the train as she had expected he would, she had gone to the address he had given. God, she certainly would never forget that place. She thought she had done a pretty good job of describing to Nina and Axel how sinister and awful it had been with all these freaky filthy people lying around in the most awful mess she'd ever seen. Empty yogurt cups and rotting fruit and vegetables in all the corners.
She was certain everyone there was on drugs, and the only one who had seemed to be in a halfway normal state had just laughed when she asked about Tiffany. Nobody has a name here, baby, he had said, and when she showed him the picture of her sister she had brought along, he explained that the place was just what they called a "crash pad". People came and went every day and he'd only been there a week himself.
Then there was the policeman she had asked where the Missing Persons Bureau was. He had snarled at her that Western Union was always making mistakes and that she should check numbers 62 and 52 and 27 and so on before she bothered the Bureau. Why not 18th Street, too and 108th Street, why not every building in the whole city of ten million or whatever it was…?
Axel had told her that he knew exactly how callous and indifferent the police appeared to be. It was really because they were overworked, he assured her, but he knew someone in City Hall who would see that her sister's case received the proper attention. Meanwhile, since it had been too late to contact the man he knew who could help about her suitcase, it had been decided that she spend the night with them. After the hostility… the downright inhumanity… of the city it had really been wonderful to meet such warm hospitable people, and June's protest that she didn't want to impose on them was pretty feeble.
"Oh, pooh," Nina laughed. "You're not imposing at all. I'm not as… uh… busty as you are but maybe you can squeeze into one of my nighties. How about a little nightcap before we turn in?" She leaned forward to take the decanter from the coffee table and poured some more of the amber liquid into June's glass in spite of her protests.
"I'm really not used to drinking so much," she giggled a little foolishly. "Cocktails before dinner, wine with dinner and three liqueurs after dinner. Goodness, what would the people in Laketon say?"
"What the hell do people in Laketon drink, for chrissake?" Axel growled suddenly in a surly overbearing voice from the deep easy chair he was lying back in, puffing on an enormous cigar.
June was really shocked and didn't know what to reply. He had been so charming and affable right up until that moment. What had she done to offend him?
"Ho-hum, I guess it's time for beddy-bye. It's been a long day," Nina said, rising to her feet with a meaningful glance at June. "Bring your glass along, honey, and we'll finish up our nightcaps while I'm showing you your room and where everything is." She led the way from the living room with that supple graceful walk that June had noticed earlier and admired so much. Everything that Nina did was stylish and elegant, and next to her June felt like a hulking country clod, although God knows the slender blonde woman was the essence of warmth and friendliness itself and certainly not in the least bit condescending.
As she rose rather unsteadily, June said goodnight to Axel who merely grumbled something curt and unintelligible and continued to glower at the wall like a huge cross old bear.
Goodness, he certainly was a moody man… She didn't envy Nina having to put up with such sudden outbreaks of bad humor if they occurred often. It probably had something to do with the difference in their ages because Nina couldn't be more than thirty while Borman must be close to fifty… her father's age.
To her mortification the voluptuous brunette found that she was actually weaving as she followed her hostess down the hallway to the guest bedroom. Such a thing had never happened to her in her whole life before. It must be the wine, she decided. They had drunk both white Bordeaux and red Burgundy, all imported from France, and it had gone so well with the different courses that she had drunk a great deal without realizing it.