'Is that you?' Janey called from upstairs.
A little surprised to find her in, Conrad ran up the stairs and pushed open the bedroom door.
Janey was sitting in front of her dressing-table. Clad only in a brassiere and a pair of frilly panties, she was engaged in rolling up one slim leg a black nylon stocking.
'You're early, aren't you?' she asked, without looking up. 'It isn't half-past six yet.'
He pushed the door shut and wandered over to the window. It no longer gave him any pleasure as it used to do to see her like this.
'I have to go away for a few days, Janey. I'm leaving right now.'
Janey gave his broad back a sharp glance as she fixed the suspender grip to the top of her stocking.
'Oh. I suppose I'm not included. Where are you going?'
She reached for the other stocking, her mind suddenly busy. A few days. What exactly did that mean? A week – ten days? She felt a sudden hot flush sweep over her body. Would it be safe to ask Louis to come here? she wondered.
'I have charge of two important witnesses,' Conrad said, turning to look at her. 'They have to be kept under cover until the trial. The D.A. wants me to look after them.'
She adjusted the seams of her stockings and stood up.
'What on earth for? Since when have you become a nursemaid to witnesses?'
'It just happens they are important and in danger,' Conrad said shortly. 'I'll be away until Thursday. I'm sorry, Janey, but there it is.'
She went over to the wardrobe and took out a wrap.
'All right, if you've got to go, you've got to go,' she said indifferently. 'It won't make much difference to me. It's not as if I see all that much of you. Where are you going?'
'I'll write the address down,' Conrad said, taking out his bill-fold and finding an old envelope. 'It's out near Butcher's Wood. And listen, Janey, this is important, no one but you may know where I've gone. Don't tell anyone, do you understand?'
'Who am I going to tell, do you imagine?' Janey said scornfully, slipping into her wrap. 'You talk as if I'm surrounded by people instead of being left alone night after night in this dreary house.'
'There's no need to talk nonsense,' Conrad said curtly. 'You have dozens of friends, and you know it. It's just that you're not interested to entertain people at home. You prefer to be taken out.'
'Who the hell wants to cook and wash up when one can go out?' Janey snapped.
Conrad put the envelope in a small drawer in the dressing-table.
'I'd better throw some things in a bag,' he said, side-tracking the way to an inevitable row.
'And who are these precious witnesses you have to take care of?' Janey asked, sitting down before the dressing-table again. 'A woman – I bet.'
'Never mind who they are,' Conrad said shortly. He began hurriedly to pack a bag. 'I'd better leave you some money.' He put a few bills on the mantelpiece.
'That should hold you until Thursday.'
It would be too risky to ask Louis to come here, Janey decided as she made up her lips. Too many prying neighbours, but she could go to his place. Again she felt a hot flush run over her. He had been like an animal, she thought. His lovemaking had been brutal, selfish and insatiable. He had left her bruised and gasping but with an overwhelming desire to be caught up again in his hard, muscular arms.
'I must get along,' Conrad said, shutting the bag. 'Why don't you get Beth to spend a few days with you? I don't like leaving you entirely alone here.'
Janey smiled mysteriously.
'Your remorse is very touching, darling. Considering you leave me here alone fifteen hours a day, a few more hours won't hurt me.'
'For goodness sake, Janey! Don't go on and on. You know I have to work late hours,' Conrad said impatiently.
'Then it will be a nice change for you to sit beside some woman and hold her hand in Butcher's Wood, won't it?'
Conrad looked at her in disgust.
'Well, so long, Janey.'
'So long,' she said, and turned back to the mirror.
She didn't move until she heard the front door slam, then she jumped to her feet and ran over to the window. She watched Conrad drive away, then she stood for a long minute, her arms across her breasts and her eyes closed, savouring a sense of freedom.
She had four days and three nights alone! She didn't intend to waste such a gift.
She ran across the room, down the stairs to the telephone. As she dialled the number of the Paradise Club she was aware that her heart was beating wildly and her breath was coming in quick, uneven gasps. She reached for a cigarette, lit it and tried to control her breathing.
'Mr. Seigel, please?' she said, as a woman's voice came over the line.
