Ed McBain: Cinderella

“Mr. Hope,” Nettington said, “sorry to be breaking in on you at home.”

Matthew said, “Not at all.”

“Daniel and I have had a long talk,” Carla said.

“A very long talk,” Daniel said.

“What we’d like you to do for us,” Carla said, “is draw up a paper saying that in the event of a divorce we will each share everything we own fifty-fifty.”

“Uh-huh,” Matthew said.

“Not that we’re planning on a divorce,” Nettington said.

“But this will give us leeway, do you understand?” Carla said.

“Without having to hire private detectives to follow us, eh?” Nettington said.

“A free and open marriage,” Carla said.

“So what time can you see us tomorrow?” Nettington said.

“I can’t,” Matthew said, and hung up.

She had let herself in with her own key.

What she planned to do here at the condo was steal Vincent blind.

Ta, darling.

While she’s bleeding on the bed.

He had plenty of jewelry, he wore more jewelry than most women did. She planned to take all his jewelry, carry it back with her to the Sheraton where she would take Larkin’s Rolex from the safety-deposit box and then get out of town.

Never mind testifying against Vincent if and when it came to that.

That was something she’d told the cops in anger.

She didn’t care what happened to Vincent, she only cared what happened to herself.

Ta, darling.

Six stitches in the cut over her eye.

Another four stitches in the cut on the inside of her thigh.

That was what she was afraid of.

That Amaros would keep sending people after her again and again and again because she’d stolen his coke.

She had to get out.

Fast.

Out of Florida, out of America, out of the life.

Take everything Vincent owned that wasn’t nailed down, and make her way to Paris, play it by ear from there. Try to make a new start. Find a job in a little theater someplace, out in the country someplace, trees everywhere, rivers, she was still young, still beautiful...

A knock sounded on the door.

Jimmy Legs was thinking you couldn’t trust spics.

Him and Charlie Nubbs had waited two hours at Charlie’s place with the dope that was half sugar wrapped in Saran Wrap and the spics never even showed. You just couldn’t trust spics.

So today was a nice sunny day, so here he was at Camelot Towers, knocking on doors and showing the picture of the girl in the ice-blue gown.

The door opened.

He was starting to say, “Excuse me, Miss, I was wondering...” when he looked into those blue eyes of hers and never mind the red hair, this was the girl, he knew this was the girl stole his brother’s watch.

He shoved the picture at her.

“You recognize yourself?” he said.

She thought in that blinding moment God, another picture, where are they getting these pictures !

“My brother wants his watch back,” he said, and shoved her into the apartment.

And she thought — as he locked the door behind him — They always let me in the ballroom but they never let me dance .