Paul had come with Lotty to Ralph’s apartment, frantic. He’d gotten to Winnetka and forced his way past Lucy about twenty minutes after Masters had picked up Jill. He went straight from there to Lotty’s. The two of them had called me, called the police to report Jill missing, but fortunately had stayed at Lotty’s close to the phone.
Jill ran sobbing into Paul’s arms when they arrived and Lotty had given a characteristic shake of the head. “Good idea. Get her out of here, get her some brandy,” then turned her attention to Ralph, who lay unconscious and bleeding in the corner. The bullet had gone through his right shoulder, tearing up a lot of bone and muscle, but coming out clean on the other side.
Now I looked down at him on the hospital bed. He took hold of my right hand with his left and squeezed it weakly; he was pretty drugged. I sat on the bed.
“Get off the bed,” the little nurse said.
I was exhausted. I wanted to tell her to go to hell, but I didn’t feel like fighting the hospital on top of everything else. I stood up.
“I’m sorry,” Ralph said, his words slightly slurred.
“Don’t worry about it. As it turned out, that was probably the best thing that could have happened. I couldn’t figure out how to get Masters to show his hand.”
“No, but I should have listened to you. I couldn’t believe you knew what you were talking about. I guess deep down I didn’t take your detecting seriously. I thought it was a hobby, like Dorothy’s painting.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Yardley shot me. I worked for him for three years and didn’t see that about him. You met him once and knew he was that kind of guy.” His words were slurred but his eyes were hurt and angry.
“Don’t keep hitting yourself with that,” I said gently “ I know what it means to be a team player. You don’t expect your teammates, your quarterback, to do that kind of thing. I came at it from the outside, so I was able to see things differently.”
He was quiet again, but the hold on my fingers tightened, so I knew he wasn’t sleeping. Presently he said, “I’ve been falling in love with you, Vic, but you don’t need me.” His mouth twisted and he turned his head to one side to hide some tears.
My throat was tight and I couldn’t get any words out. “That’s not true,” I tried to say, but I didn’t know if it was or not. I swallowed and cleared my throat. “I wasn’t just using you to get Masters.” My words came out in a harsh squawk. “I liked you, Ralph.”
He shook his head slightly; the movement made him wince. “It’s not the same thing. It just wouldn’t work out.”
I squeezed his hand painfully. “No. It would never work out.” I wished I didn’t feel so much like crying.
Gradually the hold on my fingers relaxed. He was asleep. The little nurse pulled me away from the bed; I didn’t look around before leaving the room.
I wanted to go home and get drunk and go to bed or pass out or something but I owed Murray his story, and Anita should be let out of captivity. I called Murray from the Passavant lobby.
“I was beginning to wonder about you, Vic,” he said. “The news about Smeissen’s arrest just came in, and my gofer at the police station says Bronsky and an Ajax executive are both in the police ward at Cook County.”
“Yeah.” I was bone tired. “Things are mostly over. Anita can come out of hiding. I’d like to pick her up and take her down to see her dad. That’s something that’s got to be done sooner or later, and it might as well be now.” Masters was sure to squeal on McGraw as soon as he started talking, and I wanted to see him before Mallory did.
“Tell you what,” Murray said. “I’ll meet you in the lobby at the Ritz, and you can tell me about it on the way down. Then I can get a few heartrending shots of the crusty old union guy being reunited with his daughter.”
“Bad idea, Murray. I’ll meet you in the lobby and fill you in on the broad outline. If Anita wants you to come along, you can, but don’t bet on it. Don’t worry about your story, though: you’ll still scoop the town.”
I hung up and walked out of the hospital. I was going to have to talk to Bobby myself. I’d gone with Lotty and Ralph when the ambulance came, and Mallory had been too busy to do more than shout, “I need to talk to you!” at me as I went out the door. I didn’t feel like doing it tonight. Jill was going to be okay, that was one good thing. But poor Anita-Still, I owed it to her to get her down to her father before the police got to him.
It was only four blocks from the hospital to the Ritz. The night was clear and warm and caressing. I needed a mother just now, and mother night felt like a good companion, folding dark arms around me.
The lobby of the Ritz, plush and discreet, hovered twelve stories above the street. The rich atmosphere jarred on my mood. I didn’t fit in too well with it, either. In the mirrored walls of the elevator riding up, I’d seen myself disheveled, with blood on my jacket and jeans, my hair uncombed. As I waited for Murray, I half expected the house detective. Murray and he arrived at the same time.
“Excuse me, madam,” he said urbanely, “I wonder if you’d mind coming with me.”
Murray laughed. “Sorry, Vic, but you earned that.” He turned to the house detective. “I’m Murray Ryerson, with the
The detective frowned over Murray’s press card, then nodded. “Very well, sir. Madam, I wonder if you would mind waiting near the desk.”
“Not at all,” I said politely. “I understand that most of your guests never see any more blood than is contained by the average steak tartare… Actually, maybe I could wash up while Mr. Ryerson waits for Miss McGraw?”
The detective ushered me happily to a private washroom in the manager’s office. I scrubbed off the worst of the mess and washed my face. I found a brush in the cabinet over the sink and got my hair shaped up. On the whole I looked a lot better. Maybe not material for the Ritz, but not someone to be thrown out on sight.
Anita was waiting with Murray in the lobby when I got back. She looked at me doubtfully. “Murray says I’m out of danger?”
“Yes. Smeissen, Masters, and Smeissen’s gunman have been arrested. Do you want to talk to your dad before he’s arrested, too?” Murray’s mouth dropped open. I put a hand on his arm to keep him from talking.
Anita thought for a minute. “Yes,” she finally said. “I’ve been thinking it over today. You’re right-the longer I put it off the worse it will be.”
“I’m coming along,” Murray announced.
“No,” Anita said. “No, I’m not showing all that to the newspapers. Vic will give you the story later. But I’m not having reporters hanging around for this.”
“You got it, Murray,” I said. “Catch up with me later on tonight. I’ll be-I don’t know. I’ll be at my bar downtown.”
Anita and I started for the elevator. “Where’s that?” he demanded, catching up with us.
“The Golden Glow on Federal and Adams.”
I called a cab to take us back to my car. A zealous officer, possibly one who’d been left guarding the lobby, had put a parking ticket on the windshield. Twenty dollars for blocking a fire hydrant. They serve and protect.
I was so tired I didn’t think I could drive and talk at the same time. I realized that this was the same day that I’d made the three-hundred-mile round trip to Hartford, and that I hadn’t slept the night before. It was all catching up with me now.
Anita was preoccupied with her private worries. After giving me directions on how to get to her father’s Elmwood Park house, she sat quietly, staring out the window. I liked her, I felt a lot of empathy with her, but I was too drained to reach out and give her anything at the moment.
We were on the Eisenhower Expressway, the road that runs from the Loop to the western suburbs, and had gone about five miles before Anita spoke. “What happened to Masters?”
“He showed up with his hired help to try to blow me and Ralph Devereux away. They had Jill Thayer with them-they were using her as a hostage. I managed to jump the gunman and break his arm, and disable Masters. Jill is all right.”
“Is she? She’s such a good kid. I’d hate like hell for anything to happen to her. Have you met her at all?”
“Yes, she spent a few days with me. She’s a great kid, you’re right.”
“She’s a lot like Peter. The mother is very self-centered, into clothes and the body beautiful, and the sister is incredible, you’d think someone made her up for a book. But Jill and Peter both are-are…” She groped for words. “… Self-assured, but completely turned out on the world. Everything always is-was-so interesting to Peter-what makes it work, how to solve the problem. Every person was someone he might want to be best friends with. Jill’s a lot the
