I hadn’t anything better to do so I went. I collected the sign which I put in the back of the battered Oldsmobile. Then I took a drive around the film studios for something better to do.
I saw Rima outside the entrance to the Paramount Studios, arguing with the guard. I recognised her silver head as soon as I saw it.
She was wearing black skin tight jeans, a red shirt and red ballet type slippers. She looked uncared for and grubby.
I slid the car into a vacant place between a Buick and a Cadillac and walked over to her.
As I approached her, the guard went into his office and slammed the door. Rima turned and started towards me, without noticing me.
She only became aware of me when she was within three or four feet of me. She came to an abrupt stop and stared at me. Recognition jumped into her eyes and a hot flush rose to her face.
She looked furtively to right and left, but there was nowhere for her to run to, so she decided to brazen it out.
‘Hello,’ I said. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’
‘Hello.’
I moved slightly forward so I was within grabbing distance of her if she tried to make a bolt for it.
‘You owe me thirty dollars,’ I said and smiled at her.
‘What’s that supposed to be – a joke?’ Her cobalt blue eyes looked everywhere but at me. ‘Thirty dollars for what?’
‘The thirty dollars you stole from me,’ I said. ‘Come on, baby, let’s have it or you and I will go to the Station house and let them sort it out.’
‘I didn’t steal anything from you. I owe you half a dollar: no more.’
My hand closed around her thin arm.
‘Let’s go,’ I said. ‘Don’t make a scene. I’m a lot stronger than you. You’re coming to the Station House and we’ll get them to say who is lying and who isn’t.’
She made a feeble effort to break loose, but my fingers biting into her arm must have told her she didn’t stand a chance for with a sudden shrug of her shoulders, she walked with me to the Oldsmobile. I pushed her in and got in beside her.
As I started the engine, she said, a sudden note of interest in her voice, ‘Is this yours?’
‘No, baby, I’ve borrowed it. I’m still broke, and I’m still going to get my money out of you. How have you been getting on since the last time we met?’
She wrinkled her nose, slumping down in her seat.
‘Not so good. I’m flat broke.’
‘Well, a little stretch in jail will help out. At least, they feed you for free in jail.’
‘You wouldn’t send me to jail.’
‘That’s right, I wouldn’t providing you give me back my thirty dollars.’
‘I’m sorry.’ She turned, arching her chest at me and putting her hand on my arm. ‘I just had to have the money. I’ll pay it back. I swear I will.’
‘Don’t swear about it. Just give it to me.’
‘I haven’t got it now. I’ve spent it.’
‘Give me your purse.’
Her hand closed over the shabby little handbag.
‘No!’
I swung the car to the kerb and pulled up.
‘You heard what I said! Give me your purse or I’ll run you to the nearest Station House.’
She glared at me, her cobalt blue eyes glittering.
‘Leave me alone! I haven’t any money! I’ve spent it all.’
‘Look baby, I’m not interested. Give me your purse or you’ll talk to the cops!’
‘You’ll be sorry,’ she said. ‘I mean that. I don’t forget easily.’
‘I don’t give a damn how fast you forget,’ I said. ‘Give me your purse!’
She dropped her shabby handbag into my lap.
I opened it. There were five dollars and eight cents in it, a pack of cigarettes, a room key and a soiled handkerchief.
I took the money, put it in my pocket and then shutting the bag, I tossed it back to her.
As she clutched it, she said softly, ‘That’s something I’ll never forget.’
‘That’s fine,’ I said. ‘It’ll teach you not to steal from me in the future. Where are you living?’
Her face a hard mask, her tone sullen, she told me: a rooming-house not far from where we were.
‘That’s where we are going.’
Following her sullen directions, I drove to the rooming house that was a shade dirtier and a shade more dilapidated than the one I lived in, and we got out of the car.
‘You are coming to live with me, baby,’ I told her. ‘You’re going to earn some money singing, and you’re going to pay me back what you stole from me. From now on I’m going to be your agent, and you’re paying me ten per cent of whatever you make. We’re going to get it down in writing, but first, you’re going to pack and get out of this joint.’
‘I’ll never make any money out of singing.’
‘You leave me to worry about that,’ I said. ‘You’re going to do what I tell you or you’ll go to jail.
Please yourself what you do, only hurry up and make up your mind.’
‘Why don’t you leave me alone? I tell you I won’t earn anything by singing.’
‘Are you coming with me or are you going to jail?’
She stared at me for a long moment. The smouldering look of hate in her eyes didn’t bother me. I had her where I wanted her and she could hate me as much as she liked. She was going to pay me back my money.
Shrugging, she said, ‘All right, I’ll come with you.’
It didn’t take her long to pack. I had to part with four of her dollars to take care of the room, then I drove her back to my rooming-house.
The room she had had was still empty so she moved back in. While she was unpacking, I wrote out an agreement, full of legal phrases that didn’t mean a thing but looked impressive and made me her agent on a ten per cent basis.
I took it into her room.
‘Sign here,’ I said, pointing to the dotted line.
‘I’m not signing anything,’ she said sullenly.
‘Sign this or we’ll take a walk to the Station House.’
Again that look of smouldering hate came into her eyes, but she signed.
‘Okay,’ I said, putting the paper in my pocket, ‘tonight we’re going to the Blue Rose and you’re going to sing. You’re going to sing as you’ve never sung before, and you’ll get an engagement worth seventy five bucks a week. I take ten per cent of that and the thirty bucks you owe me. From now on, baby, you’re working first for me, then for yourself.’
‘I’m not going to earn anything: you wait and see.’
‘What’s the matter with you?’ I stared at her. ‘With that voice you could make a fortune.’
She lit a cigarette and drew smoke down into her lungs. She suddenly seemed listless and she slumped in the chair as if her backbone had melted.
‘Okay. Anything you say.’
‘What are you going to wear?’
Making an obvious effort, she got up and opened the wardrobe. She had only one dress and that wasn’t much, but I knew the Blue Rose didn’t go in for bright lights, and I thought the dress would get by in a pinch. It would have to.
‘Couldn’t I have something to eat?’ she asked, flopping on the chair again. ‘I haven’t eaten all day.’
‘That’s all you think about – eating. You’ll eat after you’ve got the job and not before. What did you do with all that money you stole from me?’
‘I lived on it.’ Her face was sullen again. ‘How else do you imagine I’ve lived this past month?’
‘Don’t you ever work?’
‘When I can.’
I asked her what I had been wondering about ever since I first met her.
‘How did you get hooked up with that junky, Wilbur?’
‘He had money. He wasn’t stingy like you.’
I sat on the bed.
‘Where did he get it from?’