Death of a Doxy (Crime Line)

It was one minute to five when I entered a phone booth in a bar and grill on Eighth Avenue and dialed a number. When Fritz answered I asked him to buzz the plant rooms, and after a wait a growl came: "Yes?"

"Me," I said. "I've run into a snag on this personal errand and I don't know when I'll be back. Probably not in time for dinner."

"Are you in trouble?"

"No."

"Can I reach you if a need arises?"

"No."

"Very well." He hung up.

He was being tolerant because I was on a personal errand, none of his business. He hates to be bothered when he's up with the orchids, and if the errand had been for him he would have said I should have told Fritz.

Outside again, half a block west, cold-faced but with the blood going good, I entered a vestibule and pushed the button marked Cather. After two more pushes there was still no click – as expected. It was too damn cold to hang around, so I headed back for Eighth Avenue, with a notion about five or six fingers of bourbon, but with me the time for bourbon is when I'm going to let down, not when I have to pick up, so I went to a drugstore counter instead and got coffee.

When the coffee was down I went to the booth and dialed a number, hung up after ten rings with no answer, returned to the counter, and bought a glass of milk. Another trip to the booth; still no answer, and I ordered a corned beef on rye and coffee. There is never any rye bread in the kitchen of the old brownstone on West 35th Street. It was twenty minutes past six, on my fifth try at the phone, after the second piece of pumpkin pie and the fourth cup of coffee, when a voice said hello.

"Orrie? Archie. You alone?"

"Sure, I'm always alone. Did you go?"

"Yeah. I -"

"What'd you get?"

"I'd rather show you. Expect me in two minutes."

"What the hell, I'll come -"

"I'm in the neighborhood. Two minutes." I hung up.

I didn't stop to put on my overcoat and gloves. Two minutes of near-zero wind is a good test of your staying power. When I pushed the button in the vestibule the click came quick, and when I entered and started up the stairs Orrie called down from the top, "Hell, I could have come."