Kept Women Can’t Quit

I gave him five dollars and said, “Okay, buddy, thanks a lot.”

He looked at me and grinned. “I was going to tell you, you weren’t fooling me a damned bit; but now I’m going to tell you, you don’t even have to try.”

He drove off.

I took my light handbag, walked back to Hazel’s car and said, “Okay. Wait until the cab gets well ahead, then make another U-turn and go back out this street.”

I got in beside her.

It was one of those low jobs with a surprising amount of leg room and Hazel was showing lots of nylon. She had wonderful gams.

She made a token motion of pulling her skirt down, laughed nervously and said, “It’s no use, Donald. I just can’t drive this damned car without giving an exhibition.”

“Suits me,” I said.

“I thought it would,” she said. “Is the cab far enough ahead now?”

“No. Let him get out of sight in traffic so he won’t know that we made another turn. He’ll think we’re following along behind him — just in case anyone should ask him.”

“My, but you’re suspicious!”

“Sometimes it pays,” I told her. “All right. Make another U-turn now and go back to the east.”

She swung the car. “Do you know where this road goes?”

“Comes out around Inglewood someplace,” I said. “Just keep going.”

We followed the road, finally came to a place where there were some houses, then more houses, then a crossroad, then more houses. I said, “Start hitting the crossroads. I’ll watch the road behind us.

“Can we go someplace where we can talk?” I asked after another few minutes.

“To my apartment,” she said.

“Don’t be silly,” I told her. “They’re watching your apartment like hawks.”

“Donald, I don’t think they are.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been coming and going and there hasn’t been anyone around. I’ve driven the car places several times and each time have made absolutely certain that no one was following.”

“How did you do that?”

“The same way you did. I’d get in the car and drive out on a lot of side roads where I could spot any traffic coming behind.”

“You sure you didn’t ditch a shadow by going through a traffic signal just as it was changing or something?”

“No, Donald. I deliberately tried to make myself a sitting duck in case anyone was following.”

“Just the same,” I said, “we’re not going to take a chance on your apartment. Where else can we go?”

“What about your apartment?”

“They may be watching that, too.”

She said, “I have a friend. I can phone her. I think she’d let us use her apartment.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s get to a phone.”

We swung back onto a boulevard. She stopped at a phone booth, called, came back, said, “It’s all right. My friend will leave the door unlocked and she’ll give us an hour and a half. That should be all the time we need.”

“Should be,” I said. “Where is this place?”

“Not too far. We’ll be there in ten minutes. She thinks I’m having an affair with a married man and she’s dying with curiosity.”

I hitched around in the seat and kept looking behind us.

“Well?” she asked.

“Well what?”

“Am I or am I not?”

“What?”

“Having an affair with a married man?”

“How would I know?”

“Oh, all right, I’ll come right out with it. Donald, are you married?”

“No. Why?”

“Nothing.”

“But you are,” I said.

She started to say something, then checked herself.

We got to her friend’s apartment house, parked the car and took the elevator to the fourth floor. Hazel Downer walked unerringly down to the apartment and opened the door.

There was a long-legged grace about her that made it a pleasure to watch her move.

It was a nice apartment, one that really cost money.

I waited for Hazel to seat herself.

She chose the davenport, so I went over to sit beside her. “All right,” I told her, “now let’s get to the real truth.”

“About what?”

“About the money.”

“But I gave you the real truth about the money.”

“Don’t be silly,” I said. “I want to know the real truth. I’m not going to lead with my chin.”

“But we went all through this yesterday.”

“No, we didn’t,” I said. “You gave me a run-around yesterday about an uncle and all that. Now I want the real lowdown.”

“Why, Donald? Do you know where the money is?”

“I think I can get it for you.”

She leaned forward, her eyes starry, her lips half parted. “All of it?”

“Fifty thousand.”

“Donald,” she said, “I... Donald, you’re wonderful! You’re terrific!”

She looked up at me, holding her chin up, wanting to be kissed. I kept my eyes on the window and just sat there, waiting.

“Donald,” she sighed, “you do things to me.”

“That’s fine,” I told her. “Right now you’re stalling for time so you can think up a good story. Evidently this is the only stalling technique you know. I certainly thought you would have taken advantage of the time since yesterday to have thought up a dilly.”

“I have,” she said, and laughed.

“All right, let’s hear it.”

“Standley gave me this money.”

“For what?”

“Do I have to draw you a diagram?”

“For fifty thousand bucks you do.”

“Standley is a gambler, big-time stuff. He always felt he might be wiped out or held up — or even rubbed out.”

“Go on.”