He Won't Need it Now

     “About eight years. I was seventeen then. I ran into a guy named Vernor. How that guy kidded me! He certainly could paint a picture. He showed me how I could make money so fast that I'd get dizzy. Pretty clothes, motor-cars, jewellery, and all the rest of it. Just by selling myself three or four times a night. I fell for it. What did it matter, so long as I could get enough dough to get out of the game in a year or so?

     “He got me into a house in Watsonville, one of the northern Californian towns, and once I was there I knew what a sucker I'd been. I just couldn't get away. They never gave me any money. They kept my clothes from me. They threatened me with the police; in fact, they had me.”

     Duffy grunted, “A sweet life you've had.”

     She was silent for a moment, then she went on. “I didn't see a white man for three years. Filipinos, Hindus and Chinks, yes, but no white man.”

     Duffy moved restlessly. He didn't like this.

     “Just when I was giving up, along came Cattley. Can you imagine that? Cattley came into my room, and I was expecting another of those fierce little brown men. Cattley fell for me, and I gave him everything I had. He thought I could be useful to him, so he got me out of the place and set me up in that little house.”

     Duffy said, “How could you be useful to a guy like Cattley?”

     Her face hardened a little. “I'm telling you everything, aren't I?” she said.

     Duffy leant back on his elbows. “Sure, and it don't sound so good.”

     She lifted her shoulders wearily. “It isn't good. In Cattley's business he had to have a woman around. He got me to play hostess to his suckers. I got him introductions to the upper set. It was through me that he made so much money. Cattley was on the level with me. He gave me plenty.” She sighed, twisting her hands. “Now the poor mug's dead.”

     In the other room the telephone began to ring. Duffy made no move to answer it.

     Olga said, “What's the matter ? Don't you want to answer it ?”

     “Let it ring,” he said, looking at her.

     The telephone stopped ringing.

     She stood facing him, then she said, “Yes... yes... yes.”

     He reached out and pulled her roughly to him. “I'm crazy about you,” he said, his lips hard against her throat.

     The telephone began to ring again. It rang for a long time, then it stopped. A fly buzzed busily from room to room, hitting the window with distinct little plops.

     On the bed, Duffy lay, his eyes half shut, feeling the muscles of his body running into liquid. Olga went to sleep. Duffy watched her. Time meant nothing to him. He was quite content to look at her. Her body was strong and white Her flesh was firm. He thought she looked good.

     He put out his hand gently and touched her hair. She stirred and opened her eyes. She smiled at him.

     Duffy said, “You've got me. You've got me hard.”

     “I want to go away with you,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “I want to get away from all this. You won't let me down, now?” She said “now” very urgently.

     Duffy shook his head. “It'll be all right, you see.”

     The telephone began to ring insistently.

     Olga sat up. A little shiver ran through her. She said, “No, don't go. Leave it.”

     Duffy hesitated, then got off the bed. He looked at her for a moment, smiled, then went into the other room. He took the receiver off the prong.

     “What is it?” he said sharply.

     “Gleason talking,” came the harsh purring voice.

     Duffy pulled a chair up and sat down. His eyes and mouth were suddenly hard. “Okay,” he said, “I didn't expect you so soon.”

     “I've been ringing for some time.” There was just a hint of nerves in Gleason's voice.

     “Well, you got me now.”

     “I'll buy that thing from you for fifteen grand,” Gleason said with a rush.

     Duffy grinned into the 'phone. “I must be getting deaf,” he said. “It sounded like you said fifteen grand.”

     Gleason was silent for a minute, then he said, “I can't go higher than that. Fifteen grand.”

     “What the hell kind of a cheap punk are you? Ain't you aching to get that list back? The list is worth that much as State evidence.”

     “Now listen,” Duffy could almost see Gleason squeezing the telephone with excitement, “I can't lay my hands on any more dough. I'll make you a fair offer. Fifteen grand and five per cent cut on the business.”

     “Aw, use your head,” Duffy shifted forward in his chair a little. “I ain't so dumb. What's five per cent cut to a corpse? I wouldn't trust you, Gleason, for a second. Once you had that list, you'd bust your guts to iron me out. No, it's cash or nothing.”

     Gleason said, “You goddam sonofabitch...

     “Skip it. You don't know what you're up against. I've got another buyer in the market. You're going to pay plenty for that list, or the other guy gets it.”

     There was a heavy silence at the other end, and Duffy reached over for a cigarette. He had nothing to do, and plenty of time to do it in.

     Then Gleason said, “That's the way you're going to play it, huh?”

     “You got it. Ends against the middle. I ain't in a hurry, but you'd better start revising your ideas.”