He nodded to me, then went on counting while I propped up the wall and waited.
His office wasn’t much, but neither was the night club.
Willy was always a loud dresser. His pale blue flannel suit and his hand painted tie with the phony diamond stick pin set my teeth on edge.
He put the money in his desk drawer, then leaned back and looked at me inquiringly.
‘What’s biting you, Jeff?’ he asked. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’ve found a girl who can sing,’ I said. ‘You’ll rave about her, Willy. She’s just what you’ve been looking for.’
His round pasty face showed boredom. He was fat, short and going bald. He had a small mouth, small eyes and a small mind.
‘I’m not looking for any dames who can sing. If I wanted them they are a dime a dozen, but I don’t want them. When are you going to play the piano for me? It’s time you got wise to yourself, Jeff. You’re wasting your life.’
‘Don’t worry about me. I’m all right where I am. You’ve got to hear this girl, Willy. You could get her pretty cheap and she would be a sensation. She’s got looks and she’s got a voice that will stand your lousy customers right on their ears.’
He took a cigar from his pocket, bit off the end and spat it across the room.
‘I didn’t think you went for women.’
‘I don’t. This is strictly business. I’m acting as her agent. Let me bring her around tonight. It won’t cost you a dime. I want you to hear her, then we can talk business.’
He shrugged his fat shoulders.
‘Well, okay. I’m not promising anything, but if she’s as good as you say she is I might possibly find something for her.’
‘She’s better than I say.’
He lit his cigar and blew smoke at me.
‘Look, Jeff, why don’t you get smart? When are you going to throw up this way of living? A guy with your education should be doing something better…’
‘Skip it,’ I said impatiently. ‘I’m happy as I am. See you tonight,’ and I walked out.
I was pretty sure once Willy had heard her, he would give her a job. Maybe I could get him to pay her seventy-five a week. That would be seven and a half dollars extra in my pocket. I was also pretty sure that after she had been singing at Willy’s joint for a couple of weeks, people would begin to talk about her, then I could ease her into one of the plush niteries where the pay-off would mean something.
I got quite worked up about this idea. I began to imagine myself as a big-shot agent with a swank office, and in time, interviewing and fixing up the big stars.
I went straight back to my rooming-house. Now was the time to tell Rima I was going to be her agent.
I wouldn’t introduce her to Willy until I had her under contract. I wasn’t going to be mug enough to introduce her to Willy, and then for some other guy to grab her.
I went up the three flights of stairs two at a time and walked into her room Carrie, the maid of all work, was stripping the bed. There was no sign of Rima.
Carrie stared at me. She was a big, fat woman who had a drunken, out-of-work husband.
She and I got along fine together. When she did my room, we talked over our troubles. She had many more than I, but she always managed to keep cheerful and she was always urging me to throw up the life I was living and go home.
‘Where’s Miss Marshall?’ I said, pausing in the doorway.
‘She checked out half an hour ago.’
‘Checked out? You mean she’s left?’
‘Why, yes. She’s gone.’
I felt horribly deflated.
‘Didn’t she leave a message for me? Didn’t she say where she was going?’
‘No, and she didn’t leave anything for you.’
‘Did she pay for her room, Carrie?’
Carrie grinned, showing her big yellow teeth. The idea of anyone walking out of Mrs. Millard’s establishment without paying amused her.
‘She paid.’
‘How much?’
‘Two bucks.’
I drew in a long, slow breath. It looked as if I had been taken for a ride for half a dollar. She must have had money all the time. The starvation story had been an act and I had fallen for it.
I went over to my door, took out the key, put it in the lock and tried to turn it, but it wouldn’t turn. I tried the handle and the door swung open. It wasn’t locked. I remembered locking it before I left to see Willy, and now it was unlocked.
I had a sudden feeling of uneasiness as I went to my dressing-table drawer. That was unlocked too, and the thirty dollars that had to last me for a week had vanished.
I had been taken for a ride all right.
II
I had a pretty thin week. Rusty staked me to a couple of meals a day, but he wouldn’t finance my cigarettes. Mrs. Millard let the rent ride after I had promised to pay extra the following week. I got through the next seven days somehow, and I thought a lot about Rima. I told myself if ever I ran into her, I’d give her something to remember me by. I was disappointed that I wasn’t going to break into the agency racket. But after a couple of weeks, I forgot about her, and my routine, non-productive life went on as before.
Then one day, a month after she had walked out on me, taking my money, Rusty asked me if I would go into Hollywood and collect a neon sign he had ordered. He said I could borrow his car and he’d give me a couple of bucks for my trouble.
I hadn’t anything better to do so I went. I collected the sign which I put in the back of the battered Oldsmobile. Then I took a drive around the film studios for something better to do.
I saw Rima outside the entrance to the Paramount Studios, arguing with the guard. I recognised her silver head as soon as I saw it.
She was wearing black skin tight jeans, a red shirt and red ballet type slippers. She looked uncared for and grubby.
I slid the car into a vacant place between a Buick and a Cadillac and walked over to her.
As I approached her, the guard went into his office and slammed the door. Rima turned and started towards me, without noticing me.
She only became aware of me when she was within three or four feet of me. She came to an abrupt stop and stared at me. Recognition jumped into her eyes and a hot flush rose to her face.
She looked furtively to right and left, but there was nowhere for her to run to, so she decided to brazen it out.
‘Hello,’ I said. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’
‘Hello.’
I moved slightly forward so I was within grabbing distance of her if she tried to make a bolt for it.
‘You owe me thirty dollars,’ I said and smiled at her.
‘What’s that supposed to be – a joke?’ Her cobalt blue eyes looked everywhere but at me. ‘Thirty dollars for what?’
‘The thirty dollars you stole from me,’ I said. ‘Come on, baby, let’s have it or you and I will go to the Station house and let them sort it out.’
‘I didn’t steal anything from you. I owe you half a dollar: no more.’
