'Who is he?'
'The guy's a stoolie for the department. He has no known source of income, though he claims to be a promoter.'
'Of what?'
'Of everything. He's a guy who knows where something is that somebody else wants and collects a percentage from the buyer and seller both. At least, that's what he says.'
'Then he's full of you know what. The guy is a loan shark. He's the one Decker hit up for the money.'
'Can you prove it?'
'Uh-huh.'
'Show me and we'll take him into custody.'
I stood up and slapped on my hat. 'I'll show you,' I said. 'I'll have him screaming to talk to somebody in uniform just to keep from getting his damn arms twisted off.'
'Go easy, Mike.'
'Yeah, I'll do just that. I'll twist 'em nice and easy like he twisted Decker. I'll go easy, all right.'
Pat gave me a long look with a frown behind it. When I said so-long he only nodded, and he was reaching for the phone as I shut the door.
Down the hall another door slammed shut and the stubby brunette came by, smiled at me politely and kept on going to the elevator. After she got in I went back down the corridor to the office, pushed the door open and stuck my head in. Ellen Scobie had one foot on a chair with her dress hiked up as far as it would go, straightening her stocking.
'Pretty leg,' I said.
She glanced back quickly without bothering to yank her dress down like most dames would. 'I have another just like it,' she told me. Her eyes were on full voltage again.
'Let's see.'
So she stood up in one of those magazine poses and pulled the dress up slowly without stopping until it couldn't go any further and showed me. And she was right. The other was just as pretty if you wasted a sight like that trying to compare them.
I said, 'I love brunettes.'
'You love anything.' She let the dress fall.
'Brunettes especially. Doing anything tonight?'
'Yes... I was going out with you, wasn't I? Something I should learn about manual labor?'
'Kid,' I said, 'I don't think you have anything to learn. Not a damn thing.'
She laughed deep in her throat and came over and took my arm. 'I'm crazy about heels,' she said. 'Let's go.'
We passed by Pat's office again and I could still hear him on the phone. His voice had a low drone with a touch of urgency in it but I couldn't hear what he was saying. When we were downstairs in the car Ellen said, 'I hope you realize that if we're seen together my boss will have you investigated from top to bottom.'
'Then you do the investigating. I have some fine anatomy.'
Her mouth clucked at me. 'You know what I mean. He's afraid to trust himself these days.'
'You can forget about me, honey. He's investigated me so often he knows how many moles I got. Who the hell's handing out the dope, anyway?'
'If I knew I'd get a promotion. Right now the office observes wartime security right down to burning everything in the wastebaskets in front of a policeman. You know what I think?'
'What?'
'Somebody sits in another building with a telescope and reads lips.'
I laughed at her. 'Did you tell the D.A. that?'
She grinned devilishly. 'Uh-huh. I said it jokingly and damned if he didn't go and pull down the blinds. Everybody hates me now.' She stopped and glanced out the windows, then looked back at me curiously. 'Where're we going?'
'To see a guy about a guy,' I said.
She leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes. When she opened them again I was pulling into a parking lot in Fifty-second Street. The attendant took my keys and handed me a ticket. The evening was just starting to pick up and the gin mills lining the street were starting to get a play.
Ellen tugged at my hand. 'We aren't drinking very fancy tonight, are we?'
'You come down here much?'
'Oh, occasionally. I don't go much for these places. Where are we going?'
'A place called the Glass Bar. It's right down the block.'
'That fag joint,' she said with disgust. 'The last time I was there I had three women trying to paw me and a guy with me who thought it was funny.'
'Hell, I'd like to paw you myself, I laughed.
