One Lonely Night

That brought her head up. Her eyes got wide and stared at the wall. 'I . . . I'm not concerned with names.'

'I am.'

'But you . . . I'm . . . please, what have I done? Haven't I been faithful? Must you go on . . .' She had kept it up too long. The panic couldn't stay. It left with a rush and a pleading tone took its place. There were tears in her eyes now, tears she tried hard to hold back and being a woman, couldn't. They flooded her eyelids and ran down her cheeks.

'Ethel . . . quit being scared of me. Look in a mirror and you'll know why I called you tonight. You aren't the kind of woman a guy can see and forget. You're too damned serious.'

Dames, they can louse me up every time. The tears stopped as abruptly as they came and her mouth froze in indignation. This time she was able to look at my eyes clearly. 'We have to be serious. You, of all people, should know that!'

This was better. The words were her own, what was inside her and not words that I put there. 'Not all the time,' I grinned.

'All the time!' she said. I grinned at her and she returned it with a frown.

'You'll do, kid.'

'I can't understand you.' She hesitated, then a smile blossomed and grew. She was lovely when she smiled. 'You were testing me,' she demanded.

'Something like that.'

'But . . . why?'

'I need some help. I can't take just anybody, you know.' It was true. I did need help, plenty of it too.

'You mean . . . you want me to help you . . . find out who . . . who did it?'

Cripes, how I wanted her to open up. I wasn't in the mood for more of those damn silly games and yet I had to play them. 'That's right.'

It must have pleased her. I saw the fingers loosen up around the glass and she tasted the drink for the first time. 'Could I ask a question?'

'Sure, go ahead.'

'Why did you choose me?'

'I'm attracted to beauty.'

'But my record . . .'

'I was attracted to that too. Being beautiful helped.'

'I'm not beautiful.' She was asking for more. I gave it to her.

'All I can see are your face and hands. They're beautiful, but I bet the rest of you is just as beautiful, the part I can't see.'

It was too dark to tell if she had the grace to blush or not. She wet her lips again, parting them in a small smile. 'Would you?'

'What?'

'Like to see the rest of me.' No, she couldn't have blushed.

I laughed at her, a slow laugh that brought her head around and showed me the glitter in her eyes. 'Yeah, Ethel, I want to. And I will when I want to just a little more.'

Her breath came so sharply that her coat fell open and I could see the pulse in her throat. 'It's warm here. Can we . . . leave?'

Neither of us bothered to finish our drinks.

She was laughing now, with her mouth and her eyes. I held her hand and felt the warm pressure of her fingers, the stilted reserve draining out of her at every step. Ethel led the way, not me. We walked toward her place almost as if we were in a hurry, out to enjoy the evening.

'Supposing your father . . . or somebody you know should come along,' I suggested.

She shrugged defiantly. 'Let them. You know how I feel.' She held her head high, the smile crooked across her lips. 'There's not one of them I care for. Any feeling I've had for my family disappeared several years ago.'

'Then you haven't any feeling left for anyone?'

'I have! Oh, yes I have.' Her eyes swung up to mine, half closed, revealing a sensuous glitter. 'For the moment it's you.'

'And other times?'

'I don't have to tell you that. There's no need to test me any longer.'

A few doors from her building she stopped me. Her convertible was squatting there at the curb. The cars in front and behind had parking tickets on the windshield wiper. Hers bore only a club insignia.

'I'll drive this time,' she said.

We got in and drove. It rained a little and it snowed a little, then, abruptly, it was clear and the stars came in full and bright, framed in the hole in the sky. The radio was a chant of pleasure, snatching the wild symphonic music from the air and offering us orchestra seats though we were far beyond the city, hugging the curves of the Hudson.

When we stopped it was to turn off the highway to a winding macadam road that led beneath the overhanging branches of evergreens. The cottage nestled on top of a bluff smiling down at the world. Ethel took my hand, led me inside to the plush little playhouse that was her own special retreat and lit the heavy wax candles that hung in brass holders from the ceiling.

I had to admire the exquisite simplicity of the place. It proclaimed wealth, but in the most humble fashion. Somebody had done a good job of decorating. Ethel pointed to the little bar that was set in the corner of the log cabin. 'Drinks are there. Would you care to make us one . . . Then start the fire? The fireplace has been laid up.'

I nodded, watched her leave the room, then opened the doors of the liquor cabinet. Only the best, the very best. I picked out the best of the best and poured two straight, not wanting to spoil it with any mixer, sipped mine then drank it down. I had a refill and stared at it.

A Commie. She was a jerky Red. She owned all the trimmings and she was still a Red. What the hell was she hoping for, a government order to share it all with the masses? Yeah. A joint like this would suddenly assume a new owner under a new regime. A fat little general, a ranking secret policeman, somebody. Sure, it's great to be a Commie . . . as long as you're top dog. Who the hell was supposed to be fooled by all the crap?

Yet Ethel fell for it. I shook my head at the stupid asses that are left in this world and threw a match into the fireplace. It blazed up and licked at the logs on the andirons.

Ethel came out of the other room wearing her fur coat. Her hair looked different. It seemed softer. 'Cold?'

'In there it is. I'll be warm in a moment.'

I handed her the glass and we touched the rims. Her eyes were bright, hot.

We had three or four more and the bottom was showing in the bottle. Maybe it was more than three or four. I wanted to ask her some questions. I wanted the right answers and I didn't want her to think about them beforehand. I wanted her just a little bit drunk.

I had to fumble with the catch to get the liquor cabinet open. There was more of the best of the best in the back and I dragged it out. Ethel found the switch on a built-in phonograph and stacked on a handful of records.

The fireplace was a leaping, dancing thing that threw shadows across the room and touched everything with a weird, demoniac light. Ethel came to me, holding her arms open to dance. I wanted to dance, but there were parts of me trying to do other things.

Ethel laughed. 'You're drunk.'

'I am like hell.' It wasn't exactly the truth.

'Well I'm drunk. I'm very, very drunk and I love it!' She threw her arms up and spun around. I had to catch her. 'Oo, I want to sit down. Let's sit down and enjoy the fire.'

She pulled away and danced to the sofa, her hands reaching out for the black bearskin rug that was draped over the back of it. She threw it on the floor in front of the fire and turned around. 'Come on over. Sit down.'

'You'll roast in that coat,' I said.

'I won't.' She smiled slyly and flipped open the buttons that held it together. She shrugged the shoulders off first letting it fall to her waist, then swept it off and threw it aside.