He said indignantly, “I wouldn't tamper with a postal card! Twenty years I been a carrier, see, never lost a letter, or got a demerit for...”
“Skip it. Haul your ass to Lakewood, don't write or phone anybody. Don't come back till I write you there— care of general delivery.”
“What will we tell Thelma's sister?”
“Tell her you two are taking a second honeymoon—you can use one.”
“Say, what about you and Thelma? I saw...”
“Stop it, you've got nothing to worry about Call the P.O. and get going.”
He phoned the night clerk at the post office, said he had a strained ankle, then we went down—after Thelma came rushing back to water some damn plants—and I drove around the block slowly, didn't see anybody watching the house. Will had an old Chewy and I followed them down the West Side Highway. We were the only two cars for miles.
At the yacht basin I honked my horn, turned off for the parking lot. As I drove in I saw a couple of large characters leaning against a big Caddy and smoking cigarettes. They looked like goons. Maybe I was jittery, but I turned around and sped out.
They didn't follow me, but at the moment I was too tired to get into any more rough-and-tumble acts. And I didn't want my boat wrecked. I headed for a Times Square hotel, then got a better idea and started uptown. There was a little traffic on Broadway but I couldn't make out anybody tailing me. I cut over to Amsterdam Avenue, raced up to Louise's place.
It was after 4 a.m. and I had to ring the bell several times to get her up. When I gave her my name she opened the door a crack, then all the way, sleep vanishing from her eyes, as she said, “Hal, what a wonderful surprise!”
I kissed her, feeling her warm body through the flimsy nightgown. There was a faint odor of whisky on her lips, her eye was still dark, but she'd washed the phony eyebrows off, making her look older. “I'm so glad you came back,” she whispered. “Why didn't you call? I've been waiting for...”
I closed her mouth with a kiss. “Sorry, honey, but I've been busy, busy. I'm dead tired.” I snapped off the lights, locked the door carefully, undressed in the dark. I still had jerko's Luger in my pocket. I slipped it under the pillow as her arms pulled me onto her naked waiting body.
It seemed a second later when she was shaking me, saying, “Darling, it's six, I have to get up.”
“Can't you take the day off?” I asked, my voice lazy with sleep. The hard early light made her room look drab, mean... the harsh meanness of living on the edge of poverty.
“Let's not start that argument again. I'd make you a whopping big breakfast, except I'm out of coffee.”
“Get you some,” I said, hating to leave that soft bed. I threw back the sheet and the thin blanket into a messy bundle at the foot of the bed, got up. With two hours' sleep I felt much better. “We'll eat, then I'll drive you downtown.”
She smiled at me oddly. “Too late now. Tried to wake you at five-thirty, but couldn't get you up.”
I kissed her, not quite understanding what she was saying. She stroked my face, asked, “Hal, you're not sorry you came back?”
“What you talking about?”
“I don't know, that first time was so great... I don't want it spoiled.”
“Stop it Nobody bats a 1.000 all the time, so...”
“Then it wasn't so good this time!” she said with a hurt cry.
“Honey, I came in here in the middle of the night dead tired. Sure, I'd like to sleep the rest of the day, waking now and then to find you beside me but.... What the hell are we talking about?” I kissed her again and shuffled off to the bathroom.
Her underthings were hanging on the towel racks and the bathroom stunk of stale washing smells. I stuck my head and shoulders under the cold shower, got wide awake. I knew what she meant—in time this crummy joint could take the romantic veneer off anything. There wasn't any towel in sight, so I dried myself with one of her slips.
When I opened the door, Louise rushed by me, giggling: she was in a good mood again. Dressing, I stuck the Luger in my belt, called out, “Be back in a few minutes.”
“There's a delicatessen down on Amsterdam that should be open. I'll be dressed by the time you return....” Her voice was lost in the sound of the shower.
I found the delicatessen, bought a couple pounds of coffee, cream, bread, and coffee cake. As an added thought, I asked for half a dozen cans of frozen orange juice and the sleepy-looking counter man said, “You're my first customer of the day. The others should buy an order like this.”
“Yeah, I'm the early bird, or the worm, or something,” I said, picking up the big bag of groceries. It was going to be a clear, sunny day. I felt rested, ready to step.
I sprinted up the stairs to Louise's apartment, pushed the door open and put the bag on the table. She was still in the shower. I got a drink of water, said, “Come on, thought you were in such a big hurry, baby?”
She didn't hear me over the sound of the water. I took the stuff out of the bag, put the cream and juice in her little icebox. “You'll be late—might as well take the day off,” I said, pushing the bathroom door open.
The shower was running but the bathroom was empty. I stepped back into the room, snapped on the fight There were wet tracks on the floor, leading to the door.... But Louise would hardly leave the shower and go visiting a neighbor... even to borrow a towel. Of course she....
I glanced at the bed and there in the bundle of sheets and blanket I saw it—the two red splotches: one was the awful red of her dyed hair and a little farther down the sheet was the very bright red of blood.
