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“Hey, Jenkins,” put in Sammy, “what about that?” He turned to Dan. “No, I don’t think so. I like ‘em hungry-look­ing. No hips, no – “

“Okay, Sammy. Let her get breakfast.”

In the kitchen, she got the eggs, bacon, and ham from the refrigerator, and began the monotonous daily routine. In the beginning, when they had insisted she cook for them, she had balked, then realized she would anger them without accomplishing anything. It was then, that first night, that she de­cided she would never cross them. She would act submissive in the hope she might catch them off guard.

In studying her possibilities for survival, she concluded she must somehow attract attention from the outside to the apart­ment. The physical setup, though, was against her. The win­dows were nailed fast, and those in the living room hung with curtains too heavy to see through. Only ten feet beyond was the brick wall of the next building. Since the apartment was on the rear, only an occasional person passed by. In the kitch­en itself Dan kept the Venetian shades drawn, which was logical since the sun struck that side until midafternoon.

As a result of her bank training, she examined every possi­bility carefully. If she had known about electricity, she could have shorted a wire, blown a fuse, and brought someone into the apartment. But she hadn’t the faintest idea how to induce a short.

The next possibility that had occurred was to start a fire. She watched for a chance to drop a match into the kitchen wastebasket but Dan kept her under close observation. Then, three days ago, she reshaped the idea. She left a roast in the oven, turned the flame to five hundred, and propped the oven door open slightly with a knife. As she left the kitchen, she closed the door. She had hoped the roast would burn, the smoke fill the kitchen and seep out the back window, and a passer-by call the fire department. But Dan, always alert, smelled the smoke before it had accumulated sufficiently. In­stead of opening the outside door to air the kitchen, he turned on the exhaust fan, and they sat in the smoke until the fan slowly carried it out. “What you trying to do, get the fire de­partment in here?” he asked with that uncanny instinct for seeing through a matter. But while he might be suspicious, he could not be sure. Accidents like that did happen. After that, however, he checked the burners before they left the kitchen.

And then last night this stray cat had offered her another chance. By now someone had found the watch. The question in her mind was, would they identify the watch? Surely the newspapers had carried her description and what she was wearing. Surely her father had given them the photograph taken at a bank picnic only a month ago, and she had had the watch on her left wrist at the time. She had no idea, though, what the newspapers had printed. Dan and Sammy clipped out stories relating to the crime before passing the papers to her. Twice when news broadcasts came over about the holdup, they switched to other stations.

And another fear ate into her. Would the newspapers carry the story if the watch were found? If they did, she was dead. Literally dead. Surely the police would realize this. But then again, maybe the cat’s folks would tell the newspapers.

As if he were reading her mind, Dan asked, “What time you got, sweetheart?”

She went about the chore of turning the bacon with a steadi­ness that belied the grab of her heart. “I don’t know. I’ve mis­placed my watch. When I got up this morning, it wasn’t on the night table. I must’ve put it down somewhere.”

Sammy’s voice came over from the living room. “You’re get­ting old, Jenkins.”

“She’s not that old,” Dan said softly, and to her, “You don’t just lose a watch in a three-room apartment.”

“I’d lose my head if it weren’t screwed on.”

Dan was not to be diverted. “You try real hard to find it, huh? Right after breakfast you start looking, and you keep looking until you find it. We wouldn’t want you to lose your watch, would we, Sammy?”

Sammy laughed. “You don’t think we swiped it, do you, Jenkins?”

Dan was smart. She wondered how long it would take him to think back to the cat.

12

Patti applied her make-up swiftly and expertly. She had told Greg she would come over to his house when she was ready for their date. Ingrid, she had said, would be having friends in and it might be awkward if he called for her. She couldn’t have him accidentally discovering Zeke.

On her way out, she looked in on Zeke and D.C. Zeke smiled and rose quickly from the chintz chair.

“He won’t get hurt, will he?” she asked. “I mean, if there’s any shooting?

“

Zeke sobered. “I promise you I won’t let anything happen to him. We’ll wait until he’s out of the place before we move in.”