in Tacoma, when was the last time they saw each other?”
“What's she...? At least about fifteen years ago, I guess. Helen is married and settled out there. They exchange greeting cards now, that's all. About the only mail May gets, so she's always showing the cards around.”
Walt nodded slowly. “May must have shown Morris, the blonde waitress, those cards. Wait here for a moment,” he said, going into a drugstore. Walt was surprised and happy to find Ruth home. Then, as he and Tommy rode the bus to his place, Walt got all the dope Tommy could recall about Helen.
When they entered the apartment and he could tell Ruth had been home for some time, Walt was ashamed of what he'd been thinking all evening. Ruth looked positively beautiful in her robe, Walt thought, as he introduced Tommy and said, “You see, Tommy's wife has disappeared and, while it isn't a police matter yet, we want to find her before she gets into any more trouble. She may be hurt. I've been fishing around but I think my badge frightens her boss, makes him clam up. Might be a sort of adventure for you if...
“Wouldn't be no real trouble for you, ma'am,” Tommy said. “I mean no chance of you getting hurt.”
“What is it you want me to do?” Ruth asked, almost giddy with relief that Walt hadn't brought another woman home.
“May, that's Tommy's wife, has only one relative, a cousin out in Tacoma. I thought that after we fill you in with the dope on this cousin Helen, you could go to the diner where May used to work, pose as the cousin. Say you just came in, or you're passing through, and wanted to take May back to the Coast with you. I think the boss will tell you where May's hiding. As Tommy said, no risk—we'll never be far away. I realize it's sudden and... Ruth, will you help Tommy?”
MAY CORK
Lying across the narrow iron bed in the dumpy little room, still wearing her soiled gray waitress dress, May was sick and frightened. The skin around both her badly bloodshot eyes was a deep purple. The inside of her mouth was tender and her ribs felt sore. The actual beating outside the diner hadn't hurt. She'd been far too frightened for pain. Burt had punched May about the face so fast she couldn't believe she was being hit, then sent her to the sidewalk with a blow to where he thought her breasts were. May had rolled out of the way, scrambled to her feet and fled. After she had phoned Butch and he'd brought her fifteen dollars, she had rented this room. But in her panic May forgot to buy food. Now she was afraid to go out to eat. As she was afraid to wash her underthings and dress. The thought of being naked in a strange room terrified her.
Faint from hunger, May was sick with shame. The Good Lord has punished me, she thought for doing evil. Numbers are evil. Holding out on poor Shorty was cheating him—evil. God is my witness He knows I never did wrong before. Not this kind of evil. But then, one time is enough! What can I do now, without my clothes, money, or a job? God must know I only sinned because it was our last chance for a decent life. Lord, Lord, please let my face heal fast so I can at least go for food without attracting too much attention... maybe find Tom. I feel so unclean. If I could only get back to my room and pack, take the few dollars I have, but Burt will be sure to be watching for me there. Lord, don't let them toss my things out on the sidewalk Maybe Butch will come and...
There was a soft knock on the door. May sat up on the bed, body tight with fear. The knock was repeated but she didn't move. A woman's voice asked, “May? May, this is your cousin Helen from Tacoma. May, do you hear me?”
“Helen?” May said, running toward the door, thinking, this is a miracle. Helen is here! But at the door caution caught her, held her hand on the lock. “How did you find me?”
“I came to New York today and Butch—Mr. Morris—told me where you are. May, please let me in. Everything is going to be all right.”
May hesitated, and suddenly she felt too weak and sick to care what happened to her. That Helen should find her like this! Opening the door a crack, May saw a tall, well-dressed woman smiling at her. The woman had a large face with a big mouth and almost heavy nose, dark eyes. The woman was alone. The only time May had seen Helen was when they were both nine years old. She said dully, doubtfully, “You're not my cousin Helen, are you?”
The woman pushed the door open, stepped inside, and closed the door. She was even taller than Bertha. She placed an arm around May, her face showing horror when she had a good look at May's bruises. She said, “No, Mrs. Cork. But don't be alarmed. I'm the wife of a detective. He's downstairs with your Tommy. We've been looking all over town for you, to help you. I had to use this ruse to reach you.”
May began to weep. Ruth walked her to the bed and they both sat down. Ruth said, “Everything's going to be all right now. You're safe.” Looking at the scrawny little woman, the beaten face, Ruth asked herself, “How could any man ever love... this? Even marry her? She's just a plain bag of bones. Although really not as old as she looks. Why, probably she isn't forty.”
May leaned against her, sniffling and weeping like a child, and compared to Ruth, not much bigger than a little girl. After a moment, Ruth said, “I'll send Tommy up to...”
“Oh no! I can't let him see me like this. Oh, I've done a terrible thing.”
“Nothing really very bad,” Ruth said softly, thinking, Now here's a real character for my book, if only I knew what makes her tick. Why do I feel so detached? I'll never understand people this way. “May, Tommy and my husband are going to take you to a better place, a safe place, until all this is straightened out. Then...”
“I can't let Tommy see me like this.”
“That's being silly. He's been out of his mind looking for you. And my husband is with him. I told you, he's a detective, and a good one. He won't let anything happen to you.”
“Is he going to arrest me?”
“No. Walt is in this as a friend of Tommy's. Trust me, and don't worry.”
May shook her head and for a moment there was only silence in the room, and the sharp smell of bug powder. Ruth said, “You must let us help you.”
May said faintly, “Can you get me something to eat? I'm so weak.”
“Of course.” Ruth stood up. Suddenly, she said aloud, “You mean you're really hungry?”
“I haven't had anything to eat for over a day.” As Ruth reached the door, May added, “Please don't let Tommy come up, yet.”
“I'm just going down to get coffee and whatever else I can find. Now, you'll let me in again, won't you?”
May nodded.
Downstairs, Ruth told Walt and Tommy, “Get a container of coffee, rolls— anything. She's very hungry, still a bit shocked. And don't you go up there, yet, Mr. Cork.”
“Is she hurt?” Tommy asked.
“Well, no. Naturally, she's upset. Get her some food and let her talk to me for a while. She'll be okay.”
“But...?” Tommy began.
Walt cut him off with, “She's going hungry while we gab here. Must be a bar or coffee pot around. You buy some food. I'll wait here with Ruth. Need money?”
“I have money,” Tommy said quietly, trotting off down the street.
Walt looked at Ruth. “You look kind of pale yourself. Is she beaten up?”
Ruth nodded as she lit a cigarette, leaning against the entrance of what, perhaps half a century ago, had been an imposing brownstone and was now a cheap rooming-house. Ruth shook herself, as if something might be crawling on her. “Both her eyes are blackened. She's such a pathetic little thing. But so is he. What do we do now?”
“First we hear what she has to say. Then we'll hide her out in some hotel.”
“Want to take her to my sister's across the river? Ann loves to do good and... Is May in any real danger?”
“If they found her they might work her over again, but I doubt if they're going to look too hard. Certainly, not out of the state.”
“What did she actually do?”
“Held out a dollar bet from the numbers mob.”
“How much?”
“One dollar.”
“They beat her for a lousy buck?”
Walt looked at Ruth as if she was a child. “It sounds funny, but it's the principle of the thing. They can't let anybody hold out a cent on them, or they're through. Listen, thanks for doing all this, Ruth.” He touched her shoulder with his hand.
Ruth turned away, blew out a smoke ring. “It's... interesting. Nice of you to help Tommy. Was he a famous pug?”
“No. But he's had over two hundred amateur and pro bouts. He's...”
“His face looks like his mother was frightened by a boxing glove.”
“Can't you ever stop with the clever dialogue?” Walt asked. “I had less than twenty amateur bouts, all told. Two hundred fights isn't nothing to joke about or...”
“Isn't anything to joke about?”
“What?”
Tommy came running back, holding a paper bag. He said, “I can't understand why May won't see me. I'll take this up...”
Ruth took the bag. “She's hungry, upset, doesn't want you to see her like this. Just wait a while.” Starting up the stairs with the bag of food, Ruth stared at the worn, wooden steps, thought,
