Fifty-to-One

“No drinking for us tonight, Mike,” Charley said. “What we really need is a good hour’s sleep. The back room occupied?”

“No,” Mike said, “just some things of mine I can clear out.”

“Leave ‘em,” Charley said. “We’re not particular.”

Mike took them to the room, where Tricia had to step over a man-sized duffel bag and a pile of newspapers and pawnshop tickets to get to the low mattress on the other side. There was an armchair, too, though it looked none too comfortable.

“You’ll tell me what this was all about, right,” Mike said, “when it’s all over?”

“If I’m in talking condition, you’ll be the first I tell.”

“Knock in an hour?”

“Give us ninety minutes,” Borden said.

“You got it.” Mike swung the door shut.

“Go ahead,” Charley said, and waved at the mattress. He lowered himself into the chair. “Lie down.”

Tricia did, pulled up a thin blanket over her. She kicked off her shoes and instantly felt better. She looked at Charley, who was twisting to find a comfortable angle in the chair.

“Hey, Borden,” she said and lifted the blanket. He looked up. “There’s room here for two.”

“You’re not worried I’ll offend your virtue?” Charley said.

“Two hours from now, I’ll have a loaded gun in my hands,” Tricia said. “I’m sure you’ll be a perfect gentleman until then. Now lie down and get some sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Charley said.

25.

The Last Match

She didn’t intend to wind up in his arms, but that’s where she found herself when the knocking at the door awakened them. It felt nice, she had to admit. Secure. Even if it was a false sense of security—and lord knows it was—there was something to be said for having a strong pair of arms around you. Or even a not-so-strong pair like Charley’s.

But it was moot, since she didn’t have it anymore. Charley had leapt up, shooting from a deep sleep to fully awake like toast from a toaster. He’d said nothing about how they’d found themselves, and she’d gone along with his silence. Just as well not to add one more complication to a situation that was already, not to put too fine a point on it, a goddamn mess.

While she splashed some cold water on her face and gargled a mouthful of Listerine in the little bathroom across the hall, Tricia tried to decide whether getting ninety minutes of sleep was a blessing or a curse. She felt less sore but more groggy. Take your pick.

“If anyone asks, Mike,” Charley was saying when she returned from the bathroom, “you haven’t seen us. That’s for your sake, not ours. Well, not just ours, anyway.”

“That’s okay,” Mike said. “You know me. I never see anything. It’s how I stay in business.”

“Good man.”

“How do you know him?” Tricia asked, when they were down on the sidewalk again.

“Who? Mike? He’s an old, old friend. Known him longer than...well, probably longer than anyone. We were in reform school together.”

“Reform school?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Charley said. “Bet you never would’ve guessed I was in reform school.”

“No, actually I would have guessed that,” Tricia said. “I just wouldn’t have guessed you had any old friends.”

“Ouch,” Charley said. “You’d think you’d be nicer to me after we spent the night together.”

“We didn’t spend the night, we spent ninety minutes.”

“Still and all,” Charley said. He reached into his pocket, pulled out an apple and something wrapped in a napkin. He held the apple out to her. “A present from Mike.” She took it. He unwrapped the last remaining bites of his sandwich. “So, where are we meeting this friend of yours?”

Through a mouthful of Granny Smith she said, “The Stars Club.”

“That’s funny,” Charley said, “it almost sounded like you said ‘The Stars Club.’ ”

She swallowed. “I did. Heaven will meet us there after the last match ends. She works there nights.”

Charley stopped walking. “Are you out of your mind? Tricia, we can’t go there. Nicolazzo owns the place. He could be there, for all we know. And even if he’s not, he’s certainly got people there, they know what you look like, they’ll recognize you as soon as you walk up to the front door.”

“So we won’t go to the front door,” Tricia said, thinking of Erin saying, There have got to be at least three exits from this building, maybe more. Three ways out meant three ways in.

She walked on for a few steps, saw Charley still standing where she’d left him. “You coming? Or are you leaving me to do it alone? Because I will. Come or don’t, it’s up to you, but I’m going.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just walked off, and it took half a block before Charley caught up with her.

“Damn it, Tricia, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You mean you don’t want you to get hurt,” Tricia said.

“That, too.”

“Well, I don’t see that we have a choice, Charley. We need to get Coral and Erin, and we need weapons to do that, and the one person who can give us what we need is at the Stars Club. So that’s where we’re going.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Charley threw out the napkin when he’d finished his sandwich and Tricia did the same with the apple core a block later. Empty-handed, they made their way to the rear of the building the Stars Club was located in. They searched along the unlighted brick wall for the outlines of a service entrance and did find one metal door, but it was locked. There were two narrow windows, but both were covered with formidable iron grillwork so that even if opening them had been possible it would have been no use.

Rounding the corner, they saw a side door swing open and ducked back into the shadows as a group of people spilled out. At least two of them looked like fighters, taller and bulkier than the rest and muscular even under their coats. The rest looked like trainers, managers, miscellaneous hangers-on. There was lots of laughter and high-spirited talk about what after-hours bar would still be serving at 2AM, and then some about how it wasn’t really 2AM yet, was it, and how no, it wasn’t, but it would be by the time they made it to the nearest bar. As the last of them exited the building, the door slowly began to swing shut.

“We’ve got to—” Tricia started to say, then realized she wasn’t saying it to anyone, since Charley wasn’t beside her any longer.

She saw him, then, darting out into the midst of the little crowd. “Gents! Gents! Coming through!” He patted one of the big men on the back. “Hey, nice work tonight. Nice work. Give it to him, right?” He caught the closing door with one hand before it could shut. “Is Barney in there? Never mind, I’ll find him.” And before anyone could say anything he was inside and had pulled the door closed behind him.

“Barney?” one of the men asked. “Who’s Barney?” Another shrugged and a third stepped out into the empty street with an arm upraised to hail a cab. When none came, the lot of them shuffled in a group toward the corner where Tricia was standing. She backed up into an alcove, hoping the shadow would cover her.

“Hey, look what we’ve got here,” one of the fighters said and pointed toward her as they passed. “Looking for company, honey?”

“Come on, bruiser,” one of the smaller types said, and Tricia realized with a start that it was the janitor, the one with the squint. “Keep it in your pants.” She pressed her back hard against the wall, her chin against her chest. He looked right at her, tipped his hat in her direction. “Sorry, sister, he didn’t mean nothing.”

Thank god for myopia, she thought.

When the last of them had gone and the sound of their loud conversation had dwindled in the distance, Tricia ducked out of the alcove and sprinted to the side door where Charley had gone in. She knocked. “Open up,” she said, “it’s—”

The door opened and Charley pulled her inside, a finger to his lips. They were at the top of a staircase and Charley led her down to its foot.

From somewhere not too far away, she heard a punch land and the sound of a tired crowd that could barely rouse itself from its torpor to cheer. Another punch landed, and another, and then came a heavier sound, a body