Tommy Dorsey records on the player. Soft stuff, with vocals by Sinatra, Jo Stafford, and the Pied Pipers. The first song was “Let’s Get Away from It All” and we started to dance. Rosie curled up on one of the sofa pillows and eyed us ruefully.
She moved back a step or two from me and started to untie my tie. She did it slowly, as if she were taking the silk ribbon off a gift. She let it slide out of her hand and it fluttered to the floor.
“I’ve only known you for five days,” Millie said softly, and began unbuttoning my shirt.
“You make love like nobody I’ve ever known in my life. Then you kill four men.”
Another button. And another.
“You quote poetry. Now you’re going to destroy someone you admire.”
“I don’t have any choice.”
“I know that, Zeke.”
She pulled my shirt out and let it fall open, and slid her hands around my waist and up my back. It was like being stroked by a velvet glove.
“I live in a dump and you live on a dozen acres on top of a mountain. You’re caviar and I’m corned beef and cabbage.”
She pressed against me and I could feel her heart beating through her sweater. Her lips were an inch away from mine.
Her lips caressed and engulfed mine. Her tongue found mine. There was nothing more to say.
We were both out of breath. She lay on her back staring at the ceiling. There were two candles in the room and their reflections looked like moths darting around overhead. Me? I couldn’t keep my eyes off her body, a work of art tanned by the sun and shaped by tennis.
We didn’t talk much. I could see the pulse beating in her throat. I don’t know what she was looking at.
She turned her head and looked at me for a moment, then closed her eyes and rolled over against me and put one leg over mine.
“You throw a great picnic,” I said.
“Mmm.”
“You have a lot of hidden talents.”
“So do you, darling,” she said, and nestled her head against my shoulder.
We lay there quietly for a while longer. The record player had long since run through the ten LP’s I had stacked on it.
“Miss Harrington, let’s put it on the table,” I said. “I make about three hundred bucks a month. I drive a car that’s falling apart and smells like a junkyard and I live in a one-bedroom…”
She put two fingers on my lips and shut me up.
“Does my money intimidate you?” she asked earnestly.
“Sure.”
“Why?”
“You’re accustomed to a way of life that’s-”
“Stop that!”
“I might begin to feel like a mooch…”
“Sergeant, you couldn’t be a mooch if you tried,” she said sternly. “You’re devoting your life to doing a job that’s dirty and dangerous, and doing it for damn little in return. I respect that. I find it very honorable. I also love the way you look and the way you think. We both know I have more money than I can ever spend. So why not let me enjoy sharing it with you. If you want to take me for corned beef sandwiches and beer at the deli, that’s fine by me. And if I want to take you to Chasen’s for roast duck and champagne, that should be fine by you. Doesn’t that make sense?”
I had to laugh at her. It was such a pleasure to be around a woman who could change chicken shit to chicken salad with the turn of a word.
“So let’s keep giving it a try, shall we?” she said. “I didn’t ask to be born rich. Why let money spoil a beautiful thing?”
She laid a hand lightly on my cheek and kissed me with those soft lips to put an end to the conversation.
The candles burned themselves out.
I awoke to the smell of coffee. Mil was not in sight. It was 11:00 a.m. I lay there staring into space, thinking about the highs and lows of the last thirty-six hours. Then Millie came in the room carrying a tray with steaming coffee, more melon squares, and sweet rolls.
“Good morning,” she said brightly, putting the tray on the bed between us. She had a sheet pulled around her shoulders and when she sat on the bed, it dropped off and she ignored it. If she was feeling nervous about the growing relationship between us, it certainly didn’t show.
And my reservations were quickly dwindling away.
“I just realized, it’s my day off,” I said.
“Wonderful!” she said.
She leaned across the tray and gave me a good-morning kiss.
And the phone rang.
“Damn it,” I said.
“Do you have to answer it?”
“If it’s business, they’ll just keep calling until I do.”
She took the phone and put it between us, where I could reach it.
“Yeah?” I snarled, and she put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
It was Moriarity. The old man seemed to be in a pretty good mood, considering everything that was happening.
“You forget how to use the phone?” he said.
“I was working, boss. A lot’s happening.”
“Got a minute we can talk about what really happened to you two up the coast? Ski’s acting a little coy about it.”
“You read the report,” I said. “It was signed off by Culhane and Guilfoyle. Usually they don’t agree on anything, including the weather.”
“I also heard from Charlie Lefton, whose place is less than a mile away from that icehouse. He says there was so much gunfire he thought the Japs were landing in Mendosa. What really happened? Just between us.”
I told him about our trip to Mendosa, the brief interview with Lila Parrish’s mother, and the ambush by Guilfoyle’s denizens.
“It doesn’t make sense, Dan. The trail keeps leading back to Culhane. Logically, that should make Guilfoyle giddy with joy. Instead, he sends four of his storm troopers to knock us off.”
He whistled low and said, “You going to be home later?”
“It’s my day off.”
“Mine, too. That doesn’t answer the question.”
“Yeah, I’ll be around.”
“I’m gonna have a chat with the D.A. and put him on alert,” he said. “I’m not sure where the department fits into this. Seems to me it’s out of our jurisdiction.”
“We have an unsolved homicide that is definitely in our jurisdiction,” I said. “Be sure to bring that up to the D.A.”
“How’s that coming along?” he asked.
“Forget you asked,” I said.
“Talk to you later,” he said, and hung up.
“Great.” I slammed down the dead phone, looked over at Millie, and said, “It isn’t always like this.”
“I figured that out,” she said with a smile. “Now, what do you say we take a shower.”
“Together?”
“Of course.”
Then the phone rang again.
“Damn that thing,” she cried.
It rang again. I sat there watching it. At six rings, I snatched it up.
