The Long Wait (10 page)

“Skip it. I want to see Lenny.” Such a body going to waste under a brain like that.

“Oh. I am sorry, but you'll have to wait. You ... said Lenny?”

“‘That's right.”

“A friend of his?”

“I could be. ”

She scowled again, trying to concentrate on the next question. “If it's business then you'll...”

“It isn't business, beautiful.”

“Oh. Then you're a friend. Well, I'll tell him you're here. Name?”

I told her. She picked up the phone, waited until the connection was made, then told somebody a Mr. McBride was outside. Behind me the drone of the voices stopped, waiting to see if I was going to get the busy treatment.

They were disappointed. The blonde nodded solemnly at the phone and hung up. “Mr. Servo will be glad to see you. Immediately, that is.”

“I'd sooner stay here and look at you.”

“But Mr. Servo said .

“I know. He'd see me.” I got another frown, then her face brightened. She finally got the point. It sure was a pity.

I stepped inside the little gate and on in through the door marked Private. There was another receptionist inside too. This one was a big joker who sat with his chair tipped back against the wall chewing on a cigar. His thumbs were hooked under his arms and the handle of a billy stuck out his pocket.

He said, “Go on in,” and pointed to the only other door leading off the room.

I went in.

The room was a good thirty feet with windows on two sides and whoever decorated the place must have had a blank check in his hand. The throne was a big, flat mahogany desk, almost in the center and the king was perched on the end of it.

He was quite a king. These days they made them in chalk-striped suits and a fresh shave. They made them smooth-looking with dark eyebrows and hair starting to silver up at the temples. They made them with two guys parked in leather upholstered chairs to make sure the king stayed safe.

Lenny Servo sat there looking at me with a face that was trying hard not to show any expression. I said, “Hello, sucker,” and grinned at the way his mouth pulled tight and his nose showed white streaks along the side.

The weasel-faced punk in the chair couldn't seem to believe his eyes. He got up slowly, smoothed the creases out of his green gabardine suit and let his hands dangle at his sides. They were shaking. His eyes were black little slits over his thin lips and he said, “You son of a bitch, you.”

The other guy just sat there and watched, trying to make out what it was all about. That made two of us.

Lenny's voice was a pleasant, low-pitched snarl. It was velvet, but if you looked under the velvet you saw the teeth. “Sit down, Eddie,” he said. “Mr. McBride came to see me, remember?” He never stopped staring at me with those quizzical eyes of his.

I could feel it in the room, whatever it was. Hate. Or fear maybe. Pure, blind emotion, whatever it was. It had Lenny tight as a bow even if he didn't show it. The way everybody was watching me you'd think I was a freak. I stuck a butt in my mouth, lit it to give them time to take a good look and when I thought they had enough I hooked a chair over with my toe and lowered myself on the arm of it. I blew out a mouthful of smoke that drifted right into Lenny's face without ever letting go the grin.

The guy he called Eddie cursed again.

I said, “I'm back, pal. You know why I came back?”

A little muscle moved high up on his cheek. It did something to the comer of his mouth and he started to smile. “Suppose you tell me.”

“Where is she, Lenny?”

The smile went away. “That's something I'd like to know too,” he said.

He shifted position on the desk. I grinned even bigger. “You're a slob. I wonder what the hell she ever saw in you.”

The insult didn't faze him a bit. He didn't turn red or anything. He just looked at me. But he was the only one it didn't bother.

The little guy couldn't stay put any longer. He charged out of it and if Lenny hadn't swung his foot out he would have come for me. His eyes were big wide things in a face that was all sucked in and he breathed in tight little gasps. “Lemme take him, damn it! Lemme do what I said I'd do to him!”

Lenny shoved him gently with his foot. “In due time, Eddie. Mr. McBride understands that, don't you, Mr. McBride?”

I took another drag on the butt and looked down at the punk. Just for kicks I reached out, grabbed him by the arms and threw him all the way across the room. He slammed into the chair, knocked it over and took an ash tray along with him.

Nobody said a word. Nobody even breathed. For a minute it was like a tomb in there and when Servo's face came back to mine it was a nasty dead white. “Tough, aren't you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You forget very fast, don't you?”

“Uh-huh.”

He slid off the edge of the desk, looked at me until he got his voice back. “You should have stayed away. You really should have.”

I played it right up to the hilt. It was a brand-new game and I didn't know the rules, the players or the score, but I sure was having fun. I said, “I want Vera, Lenny. If you got any idea where she is at all, you better produce her quick. You know what'll happen if you don't?”

Lenny didn't get it. He was the king and nobody spoke to him like that. The other guy with the knife scar on his face got it though. His mouth hung open and he watched the two of us like a farm boy at his first burlesque. Lenny's breath was hot in my face. “McBride ...”

I hit him then. It chopped his words off in the middle and spun him around the corner of the desk. He grabbed, hung on, then slid to the floor. I threw the butt on the top of the desk and walked back out. The gorilla was still there in his chair still chewing on his cigar. He was grinning until he saw me. It was a sure bet he thought I was the one getting pushed around inside.

“You shoulda been there,” I told him. “It was fun.”

He was still thinking about it when I opened the door to the outer office. The benches were empty and the blonde was shrugging her bare shoulders into a bolero jacket that put her in the decency class again. She saw me and smiled. “Finished?”

“For now I am. You going home?”

Her eyes went to the clock. It was an even five. “Uh-huh.”

“Swell. I'll walk you down.”

“But I have to tell Mr. Servo...”

“Whatever you have to tell him, he won't want to hear, sugar.”

“Oh, you're wrong. I always....”

“Mr. Servo is sick,” I said gently.

“Sick? He's never sick. What's wrong with him?”

“He just had the crap kicked outa him. Coming?”

Her eyes got a little cloudy, but she didn't say anything until I took her arm and walked her outside. Going down the stairs she said solemnly, “You're in an awful lot of trouble, Mr. McBride. You know that?”

“Yeah,” I answered, “yeah, I guess I am at that.”

There was a bar right across the street from the building and it didn't take much persuasion to steer her in and onto a stool set at right angles to the street. Her name was Carol Shay, she was twenty-six years old, had an apartment downtown someplace, a yearning to try her luck in the movies and a yen for one Manhattan after another.

After a half dozen of the things she got giggly and tugged on my sleeve until I turned around. “You're not talking to me, Mr. McBride.”

“I was watching the office across the street. Thought maybe I'd have a chance to see my pals come out. It would've made good watching.”

She giggled again and sipped her Manhattan. “Oh, forget them. They'll go down the back way.”

My ears picked up at that. “Why?”

“Keeps the car down there. All his private appointments come up that way.”

“Then what's he got you for?”

She squealed into her glass and raked her nails across the back of my hand. “He likes to look at me. Besides, I'm dumb.” Her eyes came up and laughed into mine. “I really am,” she insisted.

I grinned back at her. Platinum head was dumb all right. Like a fox. For a hundred bucks a week she could afford to be as dumb as they come.

She said, “Why'd you hit Lenny? Did you really do like you said?”

“Uh-huh. A little guy too. His name was Eddie.”

“You did!” Her eyebrows were perfect parentheses, nearly reaching her hair. “That's Eddie Packman.” Her voice went down to a lower register. “He's worse than Lenny.”

“Swell. It'll be more fun when we meet up again.”

“You're crazy!”

“Nope, just mad. How long was Lenny in his office today?”

“All day.”

“Sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. He was in his office with the others since nine this morning. They even had their lunches sent up. Why?”

“Oh, nothing special. Somebody tried to bump me this morning and I was wondering if it could have been our boy.” I got another incredulous stare before she turned back to the bar. “He could have gone down that back way you mention,” I said.

“No. He was there. I had to call in for him often enough.”

I hooked my finger under her chin and pulled her head around. “Not that often. I bet there was at least an hour there when he never was near his phone. Right?”

“I ... I don't know. I just don't know.”

“That's okay,” I said, “all I want is enough to make it look like it could have been him. That's enough reason for taking him apart.”

“I need a drink,” she said. “I hope to hell nobody sees me sitting here with you.”

So I got her another drink, watched her drink it and bought one more to keep it company. “What's the score up there, Carol?”

I could see her fingers freeze around the glass. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Is that place the headquarters for everything that happens in this town?”

She took a long time before nodding her head.

“Like what?”

Her smile wasn't so bright this time. It seemed a little sad and a little lost. “Look, feller, I'm dumb. I'm beautiful but dumb. If you want to play any games, keep them between you and Mr. Servo or Eddie Packman. I don't know anything at all and I'm glad I don't because if I did you're just the kind of a guy who could put on an act I'd go for and make me put myself in a jam.”

“Like me?”

“You're nice.”

“Say it better.”

She propped her chin in her hand and looked at me sleepily. “I like big guys. I like the ones who can come out on top and who don't give a damn for anything. I like them smart and beefed up so they don't have to wear any padding in their suits. I like mean faces and short haircuts. I could go for a guy who could slap Lenny Servo around and get away with it. The only trouble is they never live long enough for me to enjoy.”

“You tried it already?”

“That's telling.”

“Your boss isn't a good guy to kick the crap outa, huh?”

“Nope.”

I lit a butt and threw a shaft of smoke around the glass in front of me. “I hear he's a ladies man.”

“Nuts. He's a male nympho, whatever that is.”

“A saytr. Who's his current?”

“Some hot number from upstate who knows that the best way to his heart isn't through his stomach. He keeps her in nylons in his apartment.”

“Look,” I said, “what do you think will happen to me?”

A frown flitted across her face. “I ... don't know, really. Somebody ...”

“Go on.”

“Things just happen, that's all. Don't ask me questions like that. If I were you I'd take the first train out of here.” Her fingers closed over mine. “Do me a favor... leave.”

“I like it here.”

The glass sat on the edge of her lip a moment, then tipped sharply as she drained it. The bartender came over and made her another one without asking. It was on the house. “You would,” she said, then knocked that drink off too. When she turned around her mouth was pulled down wryly. “Damn all big guys. Come on, take me home.”

When she got off the stool she almost went on her nose. I got her outside, whistled down a cab and shoved her in. By the time we reached her apartment she was all giggles and insisted on me seeing her to the door.

The only trouble was, she fell asleep in the elevator and I had to carry her from door to door looking for Shay on a nameplate until I found it, then fish out a key from the bottom of her handbag to get in.

It was a tricky little three-room apartment with the bedroom opening off one corner of the living room. I kicked the door open, dumped her on the bed and tossed her bag on the dresser.

I started to leave when she said plaintively, “You forgot to undress me.”

And there she was grinning at me, her eyes swimming through the blur of the Manhattans, but still very much awake.

“The zipper runs all the way down the back,” she said.

“I know. And there's only one hook on the gimmick and your stockings are held up by adhesive tape.”

She giggled again and raised one leg up slowly. Her dress fell back as far as it could ever get until she was all nice bare skin and sheer nylon that sent fingers crawling up the back of my neck. “You're so right,” she said. “Now unzip me.”

I stuck two cigarettes in my mouth, lit them and tossed one on the bed beside her. “Some other time.”

She sure knew how to pout. She let her leg fall and picked up the butt from the spread. “You're mean.”