the kitchen and into a fairly large bedroom with a big double bed, a chest of drawers, and a small table-bookcase beside the bed. The sun was streaming in past the red polka-dot curtains and the whole room had a sort of homy atmosphere—something my hotel room lacked. I said, “How much you asking for...?”
“Whatever you want to pay. I'm so far behind on my mortgage payments, it won't make much difference.”
“Well...” I wanted to say six bucks, but I knew that was too cheap. “Eight a week be okay?”
“You have a room, Matt. And call me Madeline, using last names is silly. You can use the kitchen any time you feel like cooking. Guess the bed will be big enough for you. You've got some pair of shoulders up there.”
“Worked in a warehouse when I was a kid, got the shoulders juggling trunks.”
“Biggest I ever saw,” she said, and ran her hands over my shoulders, felt of the muscles in my arm, poked her finger against my stomach. It was the first time I'd let a girl so... so brazenly feel me up, and I felt like blushing, and then like laughing.
“I like a man to be a man. A...”
“And a woman to be a woman?” I asked. This kid was really something—or she was drunk.
“All right, stop making like clever. Sure, a woman to be a woman. But a man should be big and hard. Billy— my husband—he used to hang around muscle beach, did acrobatics. Gee, hard to think a lousy little hunk of lead could kill all that man. Want a drink?”
“No, thanks.” I took out my wallet. “Here's two-weeks rent.”
She took the sixteen bucks, and I said I'd be back in an hour or so with my suitcase, and she went into her bedroom—which was furnished about the same as mine, didn't even have a dressing table, and took a key out of her pocketbook, said, “Most times I forget to lock the door, but here's your key. And if the front door is locked, back door is always open.”
I said thanks and tried not to laugh. I took the bus back to the hotel, checked out, and was looking around for Abe to see if he could get the desk to cash my check, but he was out to supper. On second thought I figured it would be a mistake to let him know too much of my business. I had a light supper and two glasses of milk, and got to the cottage at about seven. There was a burly joker sitting in a battered car parked near the house and he gave me the eye, but I couldn't recall ever having seen him before, told myself I'd have to get over the jittery feeling every time some big ape looked at me.
Madeline wasn't home and I hung up my few things, wrote the Finance Office and told them where to send my checks. I'd had a big day and was pretty tired, but figured I should mail the letter at once.
The stars were just coming out and the air was clean and cool and I left the mailbox and walked along the beach, kicking up the sand with my big feet. It reminded me of machine-gun bullets ripping up the ground. Tomorrow, I thought, I'll get a lot of sun, and some swimming wouldn't hurt.
I was watching the Pacific, thinking of Korea on the other end of the water, when I heard footsteps in back of me and as I turned I was tackled from behind and went sprawling on the sand. I felt like I'd been hit by a ton. My breath shot out of me with a terrifying ssssish! I tried to turn over and then I saw this burly guy jump in the air and land on my chest... and I could picture my lungs collapsing.
I went limp, fighting for breath, afraid to move and this goon was half astride me, cursing and punching, working his knee toward my groin. His blows didn't hurt much, except for one I stopped with my eye, and I kept rolling my head from side to side, trying to escape the punches. But it didn't work, there wasn't enough space.
There wasn't much point in lying there getting crushed to death while he found out he'd made a mistake, unless this was robbery—which I doubted—so I got my left hand over his mouth and nose and pushed. He went backwards a bit and I raised my shoulders and hips off the sand and slugged him in the belly.
His grunt was loud in the quiet of the beach and he dropped his hands to his stomach and rolled off. I sat up and got a solid left cross on his big jaw and he fell on his side—out cold. I jumped up and looked around to see if anybody was with him, but the beach was empty, just the lights of the cottages across the road. The guy was still out and I felt of my chest, surprised it was still there, took a deep breath. I was puffing and sweating, but otherwise okay. I sat down in the sand again, watching him and resting. My right eye was swollen and there was a small taste of blood on my mouth. For a moment the blood gave me a hell of a fright—I was sure I'd hemorrhaged. I ran my tongue over my lips and felt the cut there and nearly cried with relief.
“Bully-boy started to stir and I opened my coat and sat so the moonlight played on my shoulder holster. I got to my feet and when he started to sit up, I slapped him sharply across the forehead and he tried to kick me and fell over backwards. He was just a big fat soggy slob. He lay there, staring up at me with angry eyes and I knew that slap had left him dizzy. I asked, “What's your story, fat boy? Why the rough and tumble play? Got me mixed up with some other guy?”
“I know who you are.” He rubbed his jaw, touched his stomach. “Jesus, you hit hard.”
“Talk or I'll give you a real going-over. Who the hell are you?” I was sure rusty, I hadn't even frisked him.
“Stay away from Madeline!”
“What? Why, you dummy, I'm only rooming at her house. I'm not...”
“Stay away from her!”
“I never saw her till a few hours ago. I'm not cutting in on your time or...”
“Ain't no time, I'm her brother.”
I touched my holster. “Get up.”
“I warn you....”
“Get up!”
He scrambled to his feet and I looked him over closely in the moonlight and could see the resemblance—the same careless features. I dropped my hand, “Listen Madeline's brother, you got something awful wrong. Told you I never saw her till this afternoon. I was looking for a room and she rented me one. That's all.”
He sighed, worked his jaw, then said, “That's what she said. How come you picked her house?”
“I was-working for Saxton—on the Wilson murders— remembered Madeline's address when I came down here for a room.”
He spit out a glob of blood, straightened his suit and tie. “That lousy bastard, whatcha working for him for?”
“For a hundred bucks. What's your angle in all this, blubber?”
“Hell, let's sit down, I feel shaky, like there's a hole in my stomach. Never even saw that punch to the jaw,” he said, and I followed him across the sand, to a bench.
“A licking; as though I haven't got enough troubles. Got plenty of my own troubles and I got to watch Mady too. She's a good kid, only people don't understand her. She's been hitting the bottle. Don't like that, but I can't blame her too much. She's had a rough time.”
He lit a cigarette, offered me one. I shook my head. I didn't mind listening to his family troubles, I was curious about Madeline.
He said, “I'm Joe, the oldest one, Joe Shelley. Then there's Pete—a few years older than Mady, and her. I was almost a man, about fifteen, when she was born, and I always been looking out for her... you know how it is with kid sisters.”
“I never had none.”
“Pop died two months before she was born—heart attack. Ma died when Mady was ten. Me and the Wife raised her, and Pete. I've been like a father to her.”
“Okay, Pop, so what?”
“Mady's... a good kid, but with a lot of spirit, and that gets her in trouble because guys don't understand it.”
“What kind of spirit—besides the bottled ones?”
“Independence. She's on this equality for women line like some people get religion. See how it was, in Pop's will he left some insurance to see Pete through college, but none for Mady. Suppose she resented that, especially since Pete lit out East when he graduated. Then, Mady was just finishing high school at the end of the last war. Got an after-hours job in one of the plane factories. Did something with the wires on the wings. She's pretty good with her hands and made fine money. She quit school. I was against that but she thought she had a solid future in the plant. But after the war all the women workers were fired and that made her boiling. Just like they wouldn't make her a foreman because she was a woman, even though she knew more about the work than her foreman and...”
“Where does Billy come in?”
“Another tough break Mady got. They started going together back in '45, both about eighteen then. Tell you, I never thought much of him—one of these muscle-happy kids. But they hit if off, a little wild, but in a clean way—you know. Wanted to get married. But first he thought he'd be drafted so they should wait. Then when the war was over his folks wanted him to finish college before marrying. They waited four years, finally married, and a few months later he was taken in the army, killed in Korea. Poor boy was killed a long way from home. Mady sort of went to pieces, turned to the bottle. Along about then she met this louse, Saxton.”
“How?”
“She was working in his factory, clerking in the stock department. After awhile she went in to see Saxton, the big boss, asked to be promoted, that she could do the same work as the men, get the same salary. She wasn't drinking much then, it was only a few months after Billy died and she was taking it out in hard work. She...”
“Know Wilson, too?”
“Sure, just as one of the bosses, but Saxton got interested in her. Mady's kind of outspoken about things... and some guys mistake that for being loose. She ain't. I think she really went for Saxton for a time. Of course lot of people might think it's wrong for a girl to be living with a man like that, maybe it is. But then it was wrong for Mady to lose her husband after a couple months of marriage too, wasn't it?”
