Brett Halliday - She Woke to Darkness

Aline Ferris leaned back against the cushion and closed her eyes and let the driver ramble on. She was really getting good at this business, she congratulated herself. Back there, when she started to get into the cab, it had just come out subconsciously. She hadn’t planned it. But in a flash she had realized that a driver might recall the peculiar circumstances-picking up a penniless female fare, at three-thirty in the morning less than a block from a hotel where a murder had been committed that night, and he would have her address in his logbook.

So she had given him Doris’ address-East 26th Street, — instead of her own. She could borrow money from Doris, and talking with Doris would be a good place to start going back. Doris had been at Bart’s party. She and Jim Cochran had been necking at the bar when Aline allowed the third and fatal martini to be poured into her glass. Doris was the perfect solution to her problem and it had come to her with no planning or forethought whatever. Stopping in to borrow taxi fare was the perfect excuse for waking Doris and having a heart-to-heart talk without waiting until morning.

She broke into the driver’s monologue and gave him Doris’ street number, then relaxed until they reached it.

Doris had what New York calls a “garden apartment” in an old remodeled brownstone, and it was reached by stairs leading down from the sidewalk. When the cab stopped, Aline stepped out and said to the driver, “Wouldn’t you like to come with me to be sure I don’t run out on you?”

“If you wanta run, lady, you run,” he answered broodingly. “Ninety cents on the meter ain’t going to break nobody.”

Aline went down the short flight of steps and rang the bell. It was dark inside, and she kept her finger on the bell for a long time and nothing happened. Then a light showed in the rear, and presently a window beside the door was opened a trifle and Doris’ frightened voice asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s Aline Ferris. I lost my bag and haven’t a penny to pay my taxi fare. I want to borrow a couple of dollars.”

“Aline!” There was an odd breathlessness in Doris’ voice, and she hesitated a moment. Then she said effusively, “Of course, darling. Wait right there until I get my purse. Sure two dollars will be enough?”

“Plenty. The fare’s only ninety, but I want to give him a good tip because he was nice and trusted me.”

“Just a second.” Doris left the window, but, curiously, no more lights were turned on inside. She was back in a moment and thrust the bills through the open window. “You better hurry on home for a few winks, and I’ll be dying to hear all about it tomorrow. Darling, who was that character you were smooching with such abandon just before you left the party?”

“How about inviting me in for a drink now so we can talk?”

“Honestly, darling, I’m dead.” Doris stifled an elaborate yawn and started to close the window. “See you tomorrow.”

Aline said all right and thoughtfully climbed up the stairs. She handed the driver the bills and asked him for half a dollar in return.

She let him drive away because she wanted him to list this as her address. As she stepped back onto the sidewalk, she recognized Ralph’s familiar Mercury convertible parked just beyond Doris’ entrance.

Dull anger tore at her. That was it. That was why Doris was determined to get rid of her. Ralph and Doris!

She went down the stairs again and put her finger firmly on the bell. The dim light was still on in the rear, and Aline didn’t have to wait so long this time. There was a rustle of movement inside, and the window near the door opened cautiously.

“Aline?” Doris sounded frightened and a little angry. “I told you I was too tired and sleepy…”

“I want to come in and talk to you,” Aline broke in firmly. “Unlock the door.”

“I shan’t. You must be drunk.”

“I’m cold stone sober,” Aline said flatly, “which is probably more than you are. I sent the taxi on and I’m coming in to talk to you.”

“You’re not! Go away. I won’t let you in.”

“I’ll stand here and ring your bell until you do, if it takes the rest of the night.”

“Ring it, then. Go ahead and ring it.” Doris’ voice rose hysterically. “I’m going back to sleep.” She closed the window with a thud.

Aline compressed her lips and put her finger on the bell and held it there. She couldn’t hear the bell ringing, but knew that it was. She couldn’t hear anything else, either, and the dim light in the rear went out, but she could imagine with grim amusement the frightened and whispered colloquy that must be going on in Aline’s bedroom.

Ralph and Doris!

“What are we going to do, Ralph?”

“Damn it, why didn’t you let her in and give her a drink and get rid of her?”

“I was afraid to. Suppose she’d insisted on coming into the bedroom for something? Besides, I thought she’d go on home. What are we going to do? I can’t stand that bell going on and on.”

Well, it was going on and on, Aline told herself angrily. On and on and on until Doris opened the door and let her in.

Was there any other way out of the apartment for Ralph? She didn’t think so. Possibly a rear window. But she vaguely recalled that the bedroom was jammed close to the brick wall of another building, and she didn’t believe there was room for him to squeeze through.

Why didn’t they just give up and let her in and face it out? After all, she didn’t have any real strings on Ralph. He could sleep with anyone he desired. She wasn’t jealous. She was just mad. And terribly frightened by what had happened, and determined to talk to Doris at once and learn as much as she could about events at the party after she had blacked out.

Doris would be able to tell her a lot. Ralph, too, if she could convince him that she didn’t care if he was with Doris and that all she wanted to find out was what had happened at Bart’s tonight. She recalled what Doris had said a few minutes ago.

“Who was that man you were smooching so hard just before you left the party?”

Aline didn’t remember any special man nor any special smooching. There had just been the regular gang around before she drank that third martini. Just the normal, light-hearted kisses and laughing innuendos.

Could it have been the dead man in the bathroom? If he had come to the party after she blacked out, and if she had gone for him the way Doris implied, then that might be the answer, or, at least, part of the answer.

She did do that sort of thing sometimes, Aline thought ruefully, as her right forefinger grew numb from determined pressure on the bell. Usually with strange men, and always when she was blacked out. Alcohol stripped away all her civilized inhibitions and released animal instincts that demanded sex. Curiously she always seemed to pick men who would be repulsive to her in her sane moments. Like the dead man. She shuddered involuntarily. He was one she wouldn’t have given a second glance when she was sober.

Would Doris never come to the door? She had to. I should have told her in the beginning that I knew Ralph was in there, thought Aline. Then they would have realized that nothing would be gained by keeping me out. I should have made her understand that I didn’t care a hoot in hell about Ralph. I can’t tell her why I want to know about tonight, of course. I can’t admit I was completely blacked out and don’t know anything at all that happened. I can’t admit that to anyone. Not yet. Not until I learn a lot more than I know now.

When a bright light came on in the living room, Aline took her finger off the bell. She heard the door-latch being released, and then the door opened.

“All right,” Doris said. “I give up. Come on in and stop that infernal racket.”