A. Fair - Bedrooms Have Windows

“You take the gun, honey,” Lowry said. “I’m going to call Elgin.”

“You don’t have anything to call him about, not so far,” she said. “All you’ve heard is talk.”

I could see he was impressed by that. He settled back in his chair. “I guess the guy is a smooth liar, at that.”

I said, “What did you expect? Sleight-of-hand tricks, or television? I’m telling you.”

“Just what are you telling us, again?” she asked. “Why don’t you get down to brass tacks?”

I said, “Okay, I will. Tom Durham and Bob Elgin have a racket. I don’t know what’s in it for either of them, and I don’t care. I don’t know what Durham was playing for on this mix-up that goes back to the so-called suicide-pact Saturday night; but I do know that they’re in the picture somewhere. I have a chance for salvage, an opportunity to get a cut out of eighty grand. Bob Elgin was interested in it. He told me to come here — hell, I don’t know, he could be double-crossing all of us. I hate to sit here and take the rap.”

“You’re going to be sitting places for a long time,” Lowry said.

“Not if I can help it, but I’m not. I’m going to wrap up a cut of eighty grand and get out from under on this Hollister killing.”

“Are you trying to tell us you didn’t do that?”

“Of course I didn’t.”

Lowry said, “I’m going to call Bob, and that’s final. You take the gun, Babe.”

Lowry passed the gun over to the girl. She took up a position between me and the door.

“I’ll leave the door open,” Lowry said.

He looked the situation over, then nodded to the girl, and beat it through the door.

The girl sat there, the door half-open, the gun pointed at me. I could see the skin was white across her knuckles. “Don’t you make a move,” she said. “I believe I’d really like to pull the trigger, you filthy beast! And you looked so decent, too.”

I said, “I told you I didn’t have anything to do with that killing. It wasn’t a sex killing, anyway.”

“You had lipstick on your handkerchief.”

“She kissed me.”

“What were you doing in her bedroom?”

“Talking to her.”

“She wasn’t dressed.”

“She invited me in.”

“That sounds a likely story.”

I reached over to my coffee cup, let my hand slip, and tipped the coffee all over the table-cloth.

The instinctive reaction was too strong. She came up out of the chair like a shot. “You clumsy fool!” she said. “Put something under it, so it doesn’t reach the table.”

I took a handkerchief from my pocket, made futile attempts at sopping up the mess.

“No, no!” she said, underneath it! Quick! Before it reaches the table.”

She came flying across the room, and as she got on the other side of the table I tipped the whole thing over on top of her, reached across the tilted table-top, grabbed her gun wrist, twisted the arm, took the gun, and said, “Not a sound. Out the back way. Quick!”

She was so white the make-up showed as orange patches on each cheek.

“Down the back way,” I repeated, and then added, fiendishly, “Do you want a stocking tied around your little white neck, a nice stocking that would shut off the air? My, you’d look pretty choking to death, you…”

That did it. She started to scream. I clapped my hand over her mouth, and said, “One word out of you and I’ll wrap that stocking around your neck. Out the back way.”

She was trembling violently. I took my hand from her mouth, patted her reassuringly on the shoulder, and said, “Shucks, Babe, I haven’t the heart to go ahead and torture you this way. Take me out the back way. I didn’t know anything at all about that Hollister killing.”

“Don’t... Don’t choke me. I’ll do... anything. Anything you want. I…”

“Don’t be silly,” I said. “I never choked anybody in my life, but I want to be out of here fast, and I want to take you with me so you don’t run down the hall and tell Sam. Now let’s go.”

She led the way through a back door, into a screened back porch. We went down the first of the stairs, our feet echoing on the wood. I shoved the gun back under my coat.

Halfway down, I said, “You can go on back now, Babe. I’m sorry I had to play it this way, but I needed to get out. I hadn’t counted on that radio broadcast coming in just when it did.”

She said, “You aren’t going to... to take me with you… to do things... to choke me?”

I laughed, and said, “Forget it. Here, here’s the gun.” I broke the gun open, took the shells out, handed her the shells. “Don’t try shooting until you get the shells in,” I said, “and by that time you’ll have thought better of it. There’s no need attracting a lot of attention and getting your name in the papers. After all, Bob Elgin wouldn’t like it if he knew you were here. Good-bye, Babe.”

She hesitated a moment, then her lips twisted in a half-smile. “Good-bye,” she said, “I guess you’re — pretty damn smart — and a good egg, after all.”

I ran down the rest of the stairs. I looked back and saw she was holding the gun, still making no effort to load it.

Thirty minutes after I made my getaway from Lowry’s apartment, I was playing tunes on Claire Bushnell’s door-bell.

She let me in.

I said, “I’m back.”

“So I see. You certainly do pop in and out, don’t you?”

“Uh huh? Seen the late newspapers?”

She shook her head.

“Been talking with people?”

Again she shook her head, said, “I’ve been doing my nails.” I said, “Okay, Claire, I’m working for you. You’re putting me up.”

“What do you mean?”

I said, “I have some people looking for me. I don’t want to see them. I want to stay here.”

“For how long?”

“The rest of the day, anyway. Perhaps all night.”

“My God you certainly do move in!”

“Don’t I?”

“You can’t spend the night here.”

“Why not?”

“There are other tenants. It would look bad.”

I said, “It wouldn’t look bad if they didn’t see me.”

She couldn’t think of the answer to that one.

She walked over to the window, stood looking out for a moment, then turned back to face me.

“Donald,” she said, “I know.”

“Know what?”

“I heard the radio.”

I moved, so that I was between her and the door. “So what are you going to do?”

She came towards me, her eyes steady. “You didn’t do it.”

“Thanks.”

“Why do you want to hide, Donald?”

“I want to clear this thing up before they get me. If they catch me, I’ll go in a cell and be held without bail. I can’t do anything from a cell.”

“And if they don’t catch you?”

“I may be able to clear things up.”

“You can’t clear them up here, Donald.”

“I could make a start, and when I had a chance to make a stab at the thing, I could be in a position to move. In a cell I couldn’t move.”

“How do I know that I wouldn’t wake up with a stocking around my neck?”

“You don’t.”

She moved closer to me. Her hands were on my shoulder. “Donald, look at me.”

I met her eyes. She said, “Tell me what happened with that... that other girl.”

I said, “I moved around the house, reconnoitering. I found her in the back bedroom. The blinds weren’t drawn on the windows. The french windows were open. It was a warm night. She was dressing. She saw me. I went in. I think she was a little frightened.”

“Of you?”

“She’d been doing something that she was afraid of. She knew something she didn’t want me to find out.”