silk nightgown and green mules decorated with yellow feathers.
Brazil said, “Hello, Fan,” and put his arms around her. Then, turning to Luise Fischer, who had taken off her coat: “Fan, this is Miss Fischer, Mrs. Link.”
Fan went to Luise Fischer with her hand out. “Glad to know you,” she said, shaking hands warmly. “You look tired, both of you. Sit down and I’ll get you some breakfast, and maybe Donny’ll get you a drink after he covers up his nakedness.”
Luise Fischer said, “You are very kind,” and sat down.
Link said, “Sure, sure,” and went out.
Fan asked: “Been up all night?”
“Yes,” Brazil said. “Driving most of it.” He sat down on the sofa.
She looked sharply at him. “Anything the matter you’d just as lief tell me about?”
He nodded. “That’s what we came for.”
Link, in bathrobe and slippers now, came in with a bottle of whiskey and some glasses.
Brazil said: “The thing is, I slapped a guy down last night and he didn’t get up.”
“Hurt bad?”
Brazil made a wry mouth. “Maybe dying.”
Link whistled, said: “When you slap ‘em, boy, they stay slapped.”
“He cracked his head on the fireplace,” Brazil explained. He scowled at Link.
Fan said: “Well, there’s no sense worrying about it now. The thing to do is get something in your stomachs and get some rest. Come on, Donny, pry yourself loose from some of that booze.” She beamed on Luise Fischer. “You just sit still and I’ll have some breakfast in no time at all.” She hurried out of the room.
Link, pouring whiskey, asked: “Anybody see it?”
Brazil nodded. “Uh-huh—the wrong people.” He sighed wearily. “I want to hide out a while, Donny, till I see how it’s coming out.”
“This dump’s yours,” Link said. He carried glasses of whiskey to Luise Fischer and Brazil. He looked at the woman whenever she was not looking at him.
Brazil emptied his glass with a gulp.
Luise Fischer sipped and coughed.
“Want a chaser?” Link asked.
“No, I thank you,” she said. “This is very good. I caught a little cold from the rain.”
She held the glass in her hand, but did not drink again.
Brazil said: “I left my car out front. I ought to bury it.”
“I’ll take care of that, kid,” Link promised.
“And I’ll want somebody to see what’s happening up Mile Valley way.”
Link wagged his head up and down. “Harry Klaus is the mouthpiece for you. I’ll phone him.”
“And we both want some clothes.”
Luise Fischer spoke: “First I must sell these rings.”
Link’s pale eyes glistened. He moistened his lips and said: “I know the—”
“That can wait a day,” Brazil said. “They’re not hot, Donny. You don’t have to fence them.”
Donny seemed disappointed.
The woman said: “But I have no money for clothes until—”
Brazil said: “We’ve got enough for that.”
Donny, watching the woman, addressed Brazil: “And you know I can always dig up some for you, kid.”
“Thanks. We’ll see.” Brazil held out his empty glass, and when it had been filled said: “Hide the car, Donny.”
“Sure.” The blond man went to the telephone in an alcove and called a number.
Brazil emptied his glass. “Tired?” he asked.
She rose, went over to him, took the whiskey glass out of his hand, and put it on the table with her own, which was still almost full.
He chuckled, asked: “Had enough trouble with drunks last night?”
“Yes,” she replied, not smiling, and returned to her chair.
Donny was speaking into the telephone: “Hello, Duke?…Listen; this is Donny. There’s a ride standing outside my joint.” He described Brazil’s coupe. “Will you stash it for me?…Yes…Better switch the plates too…Yes, right away, will you?…Right.” He hung up the receiver and turned back to the others, saying:
“Donny!” Fan called from elsewhere in the flat.
“Coming!” He went out.
Brazil leaned toward Luise Fischer and spoke in a low voice: “Don’t give him the rings.”
She stared at him in surprise. “But why?”
“He’ll gyp you to hell and gone.”
“You mean he will cheat me?”
He nodded, grinning.
“But you say he is your friend. You are trusting him now.”
“He’s O.K. on a deal like this,” he assured her. “He’d never turn anybody up. But dough’s different. Anyhow, even if he didn’t trim you, anybody he sold them to would think they were stolen and wouldn’t give half of what they’re worth.”
“Then he is a—” She hesitated.
“A crook. We were cellmates a while.”
She frowned and said: “I do not like this.”
Fan came to the door, smiling, and said: “Breakfast is served.”
In the passageway Brazil turned and took a tentative step toward the front door, but checked himself when he caught Luise Fischer’s eye and, grinning a bit sheepishly, followed her and the blonde woman into the dining room.
Fan would not sit down with them. “I can’t eat this early,” she told Luise Fischer. “I’ll get you a hot bath ready and fix your bed, because I know you’re all in and’ll be ready to fall over as soon as you’re done.”
She went out, paying no attention to Luise Fischer’s polite remonstrances.
Donny stuck a fork into a small sausage and said: “Now about them rings. I can—”
“That can wait,” Brazil said. “We’ve got enough to go on a while.”
“Maybe; but it’s just as well to have a getaway stake ready in case you need it all of a sudden.” Donny put the sausage into his mouth. “And you can’t have too big a one.”
He chewed vigorously. “Now, for instance, you take the case of Shuffling Ben Devlin. You remember Ben? He was in the carpenter shop. Remember? The big guy with the gam?”
“I remember,” Brazil replied without enthusiasm.
Donny stabbed another sausage. “Well, Ben was in a place called Finehaven once and—”
“He was in a place called the pen when we knew him,” Brazil said.
“Sure; that’s what I’m telling you. It was all on account of Ben thought—”
Fan came in. “Everything’s ready whenever you are,” she told Luise Fischer.
Luise Fischer put down her coffee cup and rose. “It is a lovely breakfast,” she said, “but I am too tired to eat much.”
As she left the room Donny was beginning again: “It was all on account of—”
Fan took her to a room in the rear of the flat where there was a wide wooden bed with smooth white covers turned down. A white nightgown and a red wrapper lay on the bed. On the floor there was a pair of slippers. The blonde woman halted at the door and gestured with one pink hand. “If there’s anything else you need, just sing out. The bathroom’s just across the hall and I turned the water on.”
“Thank you,” Luise Fischer said; “you are very kind. I am imposing on you most—”
Fan patted her shoulder. “No friend of Brazil’s can ever impose on me, darling. Now, you get your bath and a good sleep, and if there’s anything you want, yell.” She went out and shut the door.
Luise Fischer, standing just inside the door, looked slowly, carefully around the cheaply furnished room, and then, going to the side of the bed, began to take off her clothes. When she had finished she put on the red wrapper
