head. The fat man fell back, upsetting three people and a table. Both bar-tenders were with us by then. One of them hit the fat man with a blackjack as he tried to get up, knocking him forward on hands and knees, the other put a hand down inside the fat man's collar in back, twisting the collar to choke him. With Morelli's help they got the fat man to his feet and hustled him out.
Pete looked after them and sucked a tooth. “That God-damned Sparrow,” he explained to me, “you can't take no chances on him when he's drinking.”
Studsy was at the next table, the one that had been upset, helping people pick up themselves and their possessions. “That's bad,” he was saying, “bad for business, but where you going to draw the line? I ain't running a dive, but I ain't trying to run a young ladies' seminary neither.”
Dorothy was pale, frightened; Nora wide-eyed and amazed. “It's a madhouse,” she said. “What'd they do that for?”
“You know as much about it as I do,” I told her.
Morelli and the bar-tenders came in again, looking pretty pleased with themselves. Morelli and Studsy returned to their seats at our table.
“You boys are impulsive,” I said.
Studsy repeated, “Impulsive,” and laughed, “Ha-ha-ha.”
Morelli was serious. “Any time that guy starts anything, you got to start it first. It's too late when he gets going. We seen him like that before, ain't we, Studsy?”
“Like what?” I asked. “He hadn't done anything.”
“He hadn't, all right,” Morelli said slowly, “but it's a kind of feeling you get about him sometimes. Ain't that right, Studsy?”
Studsy said: “Uh-huh, he's hysterical.”
23
It was about two o'clock when we said good-night to Studsy and Morelli and left the Pigiron Club.
Dorothy slumped down in her corner of the taxicab and said: going to be sick. I know I am.” She sounded as if she was telling the truth. Nora said: “That booze.” She put her head on my shoulder. “Your wife is drunk, Nicky. Listen, you've got to tell me what happened—everything. Not now, tomorrow. I don't understand a thing that was said or a thing that was done. They're marvelous.”
Dorothy said: “Listen, I can't go to Aunt Alice's like this. She'd have a fit.”
Nora said: “They oughtn't've hit that fat man like that, though it must've been funny in a cruel way.”
Dorothy said: “I suppose I'd better go to Mamma's.”
Nora said: “Erysipelas hasn't got anything to do with ears. What's a lug, Nicky?”
“An ear.”
Dorothy said: “Aunt Alice would have to see me because I forgot the key and I'd have to wake her up.”
Nora said: “I love you, Nicky, because you smell nice and know such fascinating people.”
Dorothy said: “It's not much out of your way to drop me at Mamma's, is it?”
I said, “No,” and gave the driver Mimi's address.
Nora said: “Come home with us.”
Dorothy said: “No—o, I'd better not.”
Nora asked, “Why not?” and Dorothy said, “Well, I don't think I ought to,” and that kind of thing went on until the taxicab stopped at the Courtland.
I got out and helped Dorothy out. She leaned heavily on my arm. “Please come up, just for a minute.”
Nora said, “Just for a minute,” and got out of the taxicab.
I told the driver to wait. We went upstairs. Dorothy rang the bell. Gilbert, in pyjamas and bathrobe, opened the door. He raised one hand in a warning gesture and said in a low voice: “The police are here.”
Mimi's voice came from the living-room: “Who is it, Gil?”
“Mr. and NIrs. Charles and Dorothy.”
Mimi came to meet us as we went in. “I never was so glad to see anybody. I just didn't know which way to turn.” She had on a pinkish satin robe over a pinkish silk nightgown, and her face was pink and by no means unhappy. She ignored Dorothy, squeezed one of Nora's hands, one of mine. “Now I'm going to stop worrying and leave it all up to you, Nick. You'll have to tell the foolish little woman what to do.”
Dorothy, behind me, said, “Balls!” under her breath, but with a lot of feeling.
Mimi did not show that she had heard her daughter. Still holding our hands, she drew us back towards the living-room, chattering: “You know Lieutenant Guild. He's been very nice, but I'm sure I must have tried his patience. I've been so—well—I mean I've been so bewildered. But now you're here and—”
We went into the living-room.
Guild said, “Hello,” to me and, “Good evening, ma'am,” to Nora. The man with him, the one he had called Andy and who had helped him search our rooms the morning of Morelli's visit, nodded and grunted at us.
“What's up?” I asked.
Guild looked at Mimi out the corners of his eyes, then at me, and said: “The Boston police found Jorgensen or Kelterman or whatever you want to call him at his first wife's place and asked him some questions for us. The chief answer seems to be he don't have anything to do with Julia Wolf getting killed or not getting killed and Mrs. Jorgensen can prove it because she's been holding out what amounts to the goods on Wynant.” His eyes slid sidewise in their sockets to focus on Mimi again. “The lady kind of don't want to say yes and kind of don't want to say no. To tell you the truth, Mr. Charles, I don't know what to make of her in a lot of ways.”
I could understand that. I said, “She's probably frightened,” and Mimi tried to look frightened. “Has he been divorced from the first wife?”
“Not according to the first wife.”
Mimi said: “She's lying, I bet.”
I said: “Sh-h-h. Is he coming back to New York?”
“It looks like he's going to make us extradite him if we want him. Boston says he's squawking his head off for a lawyer.”
“Do you want him that bad?”
Guild moved his big shoulders. “If bringing him back'll help us on this murder. I don't care much about any of the old charges or the bigamy. I never believe in hounding a man over things that are none of my business.”
I asked Mimi: “Well?”
“Can I talk to you alone?”
I looked at Guild, who said: “Anything that'll help.”
Dorothy touched my arm. “Nick, listen to me first. I—” She broke off. Everybody was staring at her.
“What?” I asked.
“I—I want to talk to you first.”
“Go ahead.”
“I mean alone,” she said.
I patted her hand. “Afterwards.”
Mimi led me into her bedroom and carefully shut the door. I sat on the bed and lit a cigarette. Mimi leaned back against the door and smiled at me very gently and trustingly. Half a minute passed that way.
Then she said, “You do like me, Nick,” and when I said nothing she asked, “Don't you?”
“No.”
She laughed and came away from the door. “You mean you don't approve of me.” She sat on the bed beside me. “But you do like me well enough to help me?”
“That depends.”
“Depends on wha—”
The door opened and Dorothy came in. “Nick, I've got to—”
Mimi jumped up and confronted her daughter. “Get out of here,” she said through her teeth.
