All that night he looked for Pat, not caring about the two men back in the cottage-one dead, one still alive-not caring about the cops or the stares he got because of his swollen, torn check. But he didn’t find Pat anywhere, neither in town nor around it.
At four in the morning they found him sitting behind the wheel of the convertible. There were dark rings under his eyes and the stubble on his jaw made him look pale and drawn.
“Saves us a trip to your cabin,” said the old cop. “Come with us.” Benny followed them, for once without hope.
Chapter Nineteen
The cold stew had got stiff in the tin plate, but the cop on duty left it in the cell for the next meal. No use wasting the stuff. Benny turned over on his cot and stared at the other wall. When the keys rattled in the door he didn’t even bother to look.
“Hey, bud.”
He did not answer.
“She wants to talk to you, bud.”
Benny turned on his elbow and looked at the old cop in the doorway.
“We got your wife. Got her before we picked you up. Creating a public nuisance.”
Benny was on his feet in one jump. “You got-you got my wife?” He grabbed the cop by the front of the shirt and tugged. “You mean you lousy cops had her in jail all this time?”
“We don’t like no stray women wandering around town in the middle of the night. And we got a law against hitchhiking, if that’s what she was doing out there on the road. Now let go my shirt.”
“Take me to her. You’re going to regret this, copper. If it’s the last thing I do-”
“Let go my shirt. Now you better listen to me, bud. We don’t like you much around here and this time we got you dead to rights. She’s picked up for vagrancy, for making a public nuisance of herself, and you, bud, I bet we can get you on the Mann Act There weren’t no marriage license anywheres in your stuff, and that car plate of yours says Florida. So just learn your manners around here, bud, or else. Now about that woman.” The cop cleared his throat. “I don’t know what she’s got or why she’s screaming for you, but whatever it is, make her pipe down. I don’t want no ruckus in this jailhouse of mine, and if you know what’s good for you, make her shut up. One more thing, bud. Can you raise any bail?”
“Not your kind.”
“Think it over, bud. I’ll give you two days. After that, it’s the judge for you.”
The cop took him down a corridor and into a bare room with a chair, two tables, and a file cabinet.
“Wait.” Benny held the cop by the sleeve when he turned to go. “Lemme shave before I see her. And another thing.” The cop stopped. “You want me to keep her quiet? Then you got to let me have some whisky. It does things for her. Else there’s nothing I can do.”
“That’s against the rules, you know.”
“Suit yourself, copper.”
Benny got his shaving stuff, and in the damp little washroom he took a small folded paper out of the lining of the kit and stuck it in his pocket. Then he shaved. Back in the room, he found a pint bottle on the file cabinet and a water glass. It said “Pebblebrook” on the bottle, and “Guaranteed not older than four months. Flavored and colored in wood chips.” It tasted like turpentine with a handful of glass splinters thrown in.
She came into the room like a wild animal shunted into a cage. Her hair was straggly, there was that mean line down the middle of her forehead, and her eyes were like flint. But when she saw Benny all that changed. At first she couldn’t talk at all, and she just cried on his shoulder. He held her, rocking her. He could feel her ribs through the flimsy dress. She had got very thin.
“Pat, listen to me. Come now, Patty, it’s all right, really.”
“Benny, I don’t know what’s happening to me. Everything seems wrong and crazy. Am I sick, Benny? I passed out again, you know, and then when I woke up and that little bald man was there in the car I got sick, really sick, and ever since I’ve felt like I couldn’t live in my own skin, Benny. I’ve been just that miserable and nervous. Benny, tell me what it is, what’s happening? Benny-”
“You’re all right, Patty, believe me. The heat, and you haven’t eaten. The strain of everything. But I’m going to fix you up again, you’ll see. Sit down, honey. I’ll explain it to you.”
They sat at the table and his quiet voice seemed to soothe her. She was pulling her ear with a nervous gesture, but her eyes were wide and intent, watching him and holding him the way a drowning man clamps onto anything within his reach. He told her how they’d get out in a day or so, how he’d take her to a better place to get well, and how everything was going to change. He said it and tried to believe it himself. Then he went to the file cabinet and poured the whisky, his back turned to the table, where Pat was sitting. “Drink this down, honey, fast.”
“You think I should, Benny? My stomach’s empty. That slop they brought me this morning-”
“I know, Patty. Drink it. You’ll see it’ll be all right.”
He watched her drink it, and it came to him that he wished it had happened differently. After a while he saw her change. Her talk was fast and brittle, but she was cheerful.
“Just another day, Patty, maybe two.”
She went back to the place where they kept her, laughing.
When Benny was back in his cell, the cop leaned his arms through the bars and said, “You been thinking about that bail any?”
“How much?”
“Well, I tell you, bud. If you want to keep this whole thing between us, we’ll make it five hundred for the two of you, on the books.”
“On the books?”
“That’s what I said. Now, for my doing you a good turn, you might send a little contribution to the church I’m with. They do good works around town, you know, and especially here. Paint for the ironwork, cookies for the guests-”
“I haven’t seen any cookies around here.”
“That’s because it isn’t Christmastime, bud. They bake for Christmastime.”
“How much do you think they need, copper?”
“A thousand, I’d say.”
Benny jumped up and grabbed the bars. “Where do you think I’d get a thousand, you rotten dick?”
“Same place you got the five hundred that was in your pocket when we checked you in.”
“Was in my pocket? That five hundred is all I got!”
“You ain’t got. There’s no mention of it on the list we made, bud.”
“Why, you no-good, slimy-”
“Not so loud, not so loud. Now about the thousand. You just put that in an envelope marked ‘Contribution, The Fourth Evangelical Congregation of Christ.’ You seal it and give it to me. I’ll hand it on. About the five hundred for bail on the books, that’s extra, of course.”
“And if I don’t jump bail I get that back?”
“Sure, bud. I’ll mail it to you when I take the charges off the blotter.”
“One thousand for a few days’ work isn’t bad, copper. Don’t you think you’d get in trouble with that much dough floating around? And me out of jail?”
“I’ll tell you what, bud. You just try and come back to this town sometime and see what happens to those charges I took off the blotter.”
But Benny wasn’t listening any more. Let a guy show him his weakness and Benny knew he was back on his feet. Plain and simple, that cop’s weakness was dough.
“Go to Western Union,” he said after a while, “and ask if there’s a money order for me.”
“How much?”
“Just ask. If it’s there, you’ll get yours.”
