Barbara scuttled up to the landing and then she was not there. He had not thought she could move so fast. She still had her baby fat.
“Inside,” Furia said to Goldie. He took the rifle with his left hand and brandished it. “You, too, fuzz.”
They went into the big living room. A tall fire was blazing away. “Is it all right if I stand near the fire?” Malone asked. “I’m cold.”
“You stay put. Them fire tools might give you ideas.” Furia squinted at Goldie. “Start stripping.”
“What?” Goldie said.
“Take it off.”
“In front of him?”
“He’s pulling a fast one he won’t live long enough to enjoy. Get going, Goldie.”
Goldie began to fumble with the zipper at the side of her slacks. “You fuzz bastard, you know how many times I saved your brat from getting her head shot off? This is my thanks!” She kicked her shoes away and stepped out of the slacks. She kicked the slacks in Furia’s direction.
“I don’t think she’d keep it on her,” Malone said. “She’s hidden it somewhere.”
“Oh, you ain’t so sure now,” Furia said. “Look in her shoes and slacks.”
Malone picked up the shoes. He examined the soles, the linings. He tugged at the heels, tried to twist them. Then he picked up the slacks and went through them. He shook his head.
“The shirt,” Furia said to Goldie.
She unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off, long gold hair swinging. She flung the blouse at Malone’s head. He ran his hands over it with special attention to the seams. He shook his head again.
“Bra,” Furia said.
She unhooked it, glaring. It fell to the floor. Malone walked over and picked it up. Her flesh was very near his face and he could see through her sheer pink panties. It left him colder.
He was very thorough searching the bra. The stuffing of the cups would make a good hiding place.
“No,” he said.
“Drop your panties,” Furia said.
“Fure, how could I hide-?”
“Drop ‘em.”
She dropped them. She stood there looking at Malone. “I’ll kill you,” she said. “I’m going to kill you after this, you know that?”
“This part I do personal,” Furia said. He stepped behind her. “Bend over, Goldie.” She began to curse Malone. The last time he had heard a woman use such language was in an offlimits Greek whorehouse, it had somehow not sounded so bad in broken English. He found himself a little shocked. “Turn around.”
“Go to hell, goddam you!”
Furia turned her around gently. After a while he stepped to one side and said, “You struck out, fuzz.” He raised the Colt. “I told you not to con me.”
“And I told you,” Malone said. “She’s too smart to hide it on herself.”
The revolver hesitated. “Then where?”
“She’d hide it where she could get to it fast. It’s got to be somewhere in this house.”
Furia glanced over at the sofa. Barbara’s coat and hat lay there, and two open suitcases. Evidently he had had the woman pack in the early hours for a quick getaway after he began to suspect Hinch’s runout. He waved the revolver. “Her bag. The tan one. Go look.”
Malone rummaged through the tan one. He was sure the key was not there and he was right. He went through the other bag for luck. It was not there, either.
When he straightened up Goldie was putting her clothes on and Furia was studying her.
“You know something?” Malone said. “She could have been just smart enough to hide it in Barbara’s coat or hat.”
“She could,” Furia said, “if she ever had it. I’m playing along with you so far, fuzz, but don’t take advantage of my good nature. You better start getting results.” He gestured with the Colt. “Okay, try your kid’s things.”
Malone handled Bibby’s coat and hat as if they were nothing in particular, as if the warm blue wool and her chubby little body had never met.
“No.” He deliberately flung the coat and hat aside. He stood studying Goldie, who was zipping up her slacks. He tried to see into her head. “I know,” Malone said. “She hid it on you.”
“On me?” Furia said.
“Do you carry a wallet?”
“What the hell do I need a wallet for, Diners Club? You’re way out, man.” Furia looked angry. “Unless you think I’m dumb. Is that what you think?”
“No, no,” Malone said. “It has nothing to do with you, only with her. Why not take a look, Furia? What have you got to lose?”
“Plenty,” Furia said. “Rolling over to fuzz for one.” But then he said, “Hook your fingers at the back of your neck.” Malone hooked his fingers at the back of his neck. “One move and you’ve had it.”
“I’m not going to try anything,” Malone said.
“Give me that other gun, Fure,” Goldie said. Some spit came out. “Let me be the one.”
“Why, Goldie. Ain’t you the bloodthirsty one.”
“I’ll cover him, I mean. While you search yourself.”
“You’ll do what I tell you.” Furia began to paw himself with his left hand. When he was finished with his left side he transferred the Colt to his left hand and felt all over his right side. He even got down in a crouch and ran a finger around the insides of his trouser cuffs. “Okay, Malone, nobody makes a monkey out of me.”
“I know,” Malone said. “I know now.”
“You know what now?”
“I thought she was too smart to hide it on herself. I didn’t know how smart she is. She figured nobody would think her stupid enough to do that. Neck. Look at the back of her head. Under her hair.”
“Fure, let me kill him!” Goldie screamed.
Furia stood very still.
“Yeah,” he said.
He stalked over to her.
She backed off, all the way to the fireplace. She got so close to the fire that Malone was afraid for her hair.
“Fure, I swear to you.”
He grabbed her hair and yanked. She yelped and fell against him. He yanked again, downward, and she dropped to her knees.
“I swear, I swear… “
Furia took a fistful of the long golden hair at the back of her head and pulled it straight up.
Something was plastered to the back of her skull with adhesive tape.
He ripped it away.
Stuck to the adhesive side, along with some gold and brown hairs, were two flat keys.
“Jesus H. Christ. My own broad.” Furia glanced from the safe deposit keys in his left hand to the Colt in his right as if he did not know quite what to do. “You know what I got to do now, Goldie. Don’t you?”
Goldie was very fast. “Wait, Fure, wait.” Her upturned face schemed with her fear, she was trying to stop him by sheer eye-power. “You kill me and who’s going to stay with the kid while you’re getting the money back out of the bank? You need me, Fure. You still need me.”
“She’s right,” Malone said. For some reason he was not feeling strong any longer. It was like the tiredness of a week ago, as if none of this had happened.
I’ll wake up and Ellen will laugh Loney you’re dreaming.
Time came back. “Yeah,” Furia said heavily. “What I ought to done, I ought to listened to that yellowbelly Hinch. He always said you were my bag… Get up, you twotimer bitch. But you ain’t my broad no more.”
He sounded sad.
“You ain’t
