walked up instead of down he would never have been suspected.
So Aline walked up. Not one flight. Not just two flights, but three. That put her on the sixth floor and should be as safe as any. She wadded up the pillowslip as she climbed and dropped it in a dark corner on the fifth floor landing.
The sixth-floor corridor was dimly lit and deserted. She walked down it with her heart thumping, past closed doors behind which human beings slept in peace. Some of them snored, and the sound came faintly through open transoms.
She found double elevator doors and pressed the DOWN button. She had not the slightest idea what hour of the night it was, but was sure it was much too late for a respectable woman to be leaving a hotel with no wrap and no make-up, no handbag and her hair in disorder.
Anyone who saw her would think only one thing. Well, let them. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly when the elevator cables began creaking to bring the car up. She was a floosie, she reminded herself bitterly. A two-dollar whore. So why should she be ashamed or even annoyed if an elevator man and desk clerk took her for a call girl going home from some guest’s room after a late party?
The elevator stopped and the door slid open. The operator was a wizened and aged Negro man wearing a blue uniform with scarlet piping. So far as Aline could tell, he didn’t look at her when she stepped inside.
The door closed and they descended to a small lobby lighted with only two floor lamps. Aline stepped from the car with her chin still high, and her heels clacked on the bare floor toward the safety of a revolving door. She glanced at the desk, but the clerk was not there. A big clock on the wall pointed to 2:50.
Aline went through the revolving door and out onto a deserted sidewalk where a breeze cooled her hot cheeks. She looked at the sign above the hotel. It read, HOTEL HALCYON.
She would remember that, and she would remember a room number. She had not the vaguest idea what part of the city she was in. There were smart apartment houses here, and small specialty shops. She walked toward the nearest corner and discovered she was on Madison Avenue, far uptown from her normal haunts.
Looking up and down the Avenue she saw the welcome UNOCCUPIED lights of a roving taxi going south. She waved it to the curb, and before getting in she said:
“I’ll have to warn you, driver, that I don’t have any money with me. I lost my bag. If you’re willing to drive me to my place on East Twenty-Sixth Street, I’ll be glad to have you come in with me while I get some money to pay you.”
“Hop in, Lady,” he said wearily. “Where’d we all be in this world if none of us never trusted nobody else?” He opened the door, and when Aline got in he pulled away on the almost deserted avenue, leaning back to continue confidentially:
“Take it from me, that’s one of the troubles with this city. New York! Nobody speaks to a man on the street. Nobody’s got a helping hand for them that’s in trouble. Man can die right on a busy street and you’ll see the crowds hurrying by and turning their faces like they’re scared they’ll get contaminated.”
Aline Ferris leaned back against the cushion and closed her eyes and let the driver ramble on. She was really getting good at this business, she congratulated herself. Back there, when she started to get into the cab, it had just come out subconsciously. She hadn’t planned it. But in a flash she had realized that a driver might recall the peculiar circumstances-picking up a penniless female fare, at three-thirty in the morning less than a block from a hotel where a murder had been committed that night, and he would have her address in his logbook.
So she had given him Doris’ address-East 26th Street, — instead of her own. She could borrow money from Doris, and talking with Doris would be a good place to start going back. Doris had been at Bart’s party. She and Jim Cochran had been necking at the bar when Aline allowed the third and fatal martini to be poured into her glass. Doris was the perfect solution to her problem and it had come to her with no planning or forethought whatever. Stopping in to borrow taxi fare was the perfect excuse for waking Doris and having a heart-to-heart talk without waiting until morning.
She broke into the driver’s monologue and gave him Doris’ street number, then relaxed until they reached it.
Doris had what New York calls a “garden apartment” in an old remodeled brownstone, and it was reached by stairs leading down from the sidewalk. When the cab stopped, Aline stepped out and said to the driver, “Wouldn’t you like to come with me to be sure I don’t run out on you?”
“If you wanta run, lady, you run,” he answered broodingly. “Ninety cents on the meter ain’t going to break nobody.”
Aline went down the short flight of steps and rang the bell. It was dark inside, and she kept her finger on the bell for a long time and nothing happened. Then a light showed in the rear, and presently a window beside the door was opened a trifle and Doris’ frightened voice asked, “Who is it?”
“It’s Aline Ferris. I lost my bag and haven’t a penny to pay my taxi fare. I want to borrow a couple of dollars.”
“Aline!” There was an odd breathlessness in Doris’ voice, and she hesitated a moment. Then she said effusively, “Of course, darling. Wait right there until I get my purse. Sure two dollars will be enough?”
“Plenty. The fare’s only ninety, but I want to give him a good tip because he was nice and trusted me.”
“Just a second.” Doris left the window, but, curiously, no more lights were turned on inside. She was back in a moment and thrust the bills through the open window. “You better hurry on home for a few winks, and I’ll be dying to hear all about it tomorrow. Darling, who was that character you were smooching with such abandon just before you left the party?”
“How about inviting me in for a drink now so we can talk?”
“Honestly, darling, I’m dead.” Doris stifled an elaborate yawn and started to close the window. “See you tomorrow.”
Aline said all right and thoughtfully climbed up the stairs. She handed the driver the bills and asked him for half a dollar in return.
She let him drive away because she wanted him to list this as her address. As she stepped back onto the sidewalk, she recognized Ralph’s familiar Mercury convertible parked just beyond Doris’ entrance.
Dull anger tore at her. That was it. That was why Doris was determined to get rid of her. Ralph and Doris!
She went down the stairs again and put her finger firmly on the bell. The dim light was still on in the rear, and Aline didn’t have to wait so long this time. There was a rustle of movement inside, and the window near the door opened cautiously.
“Aline?” Doris sounded frightened and a little angry. “I told you I was too tired and sleepy…”
“I want to come in and talk to you,” Aline broke in firmly. “Unlock the door.”
“I shan’t. You must be drunk.”
“I’m cold stone sober,” Aline said flatly, “which is probably more than you are. I sent the taxi on and I’m coming in to talk to you.”
“You’re not! Go away. I won’t let you in.”
“I’ll stand here and ring your bell until you do, if it takes the rest of the night.”
“Ring it, then. Go ahead and ring it.” Doris’ voice rose hysterically. “I’m going back to sleep.” She closed the window with a thud.
Aline compressed her lips and put her finger on the bell and held it there. She couldn’t hear the bell ringing, but knew that it was. She couldn’t hear anything else, either, and the dim light in the rear went out, but she could imagine with grim amusement the frightened and whispered colloquy that must be going on in Aline’s bedroom.
Ralph and Doris!
“What are we going to do, Ralph?”
“Damn it, why didn’t you let her in and give her a drink and get rid of her?”
“I was afraid to. Suppose she’d insisted on coming into the bedroom for something? Besides, I thought she’d go on home. What are we going to do? I can’t stand that bell going on and on.”
Well, it was going on and on, Aline told herself angrily. On and on and on until Doris opened the door and let her in.
Was there any other way out of the apartment for Ralph? She didn’t think so. Possibly a rear window. But she vaguely recalled that the bedroom was jammed close to the brick wall of another building, and she didn’t believe
