Эд Макбейн - Learning to Kill - Stories

“Yes,” she said guardedly. “I guess I would.”

“Who?” he asked.

“Trimble,” the landlady said. “A girl named Alice Trimble.”

“Alice Trimble,” Davis said reflectively. “You wouldn’t have her phone number, would you?”

“Come on in,” the landlady said, finally accepting Davis at face value. She led him into the foyer of the house, and Davis followed her to the pay phone on the wall.

“They all scribble numbers here,” she said. “I keep washing them off, but they keep putting them back again.”

“Shame,” Davis said sympathetically.

“Hers is up there, too. You just wait a second, and I’ll tell you which one.” She stepped close to the phone and examined the scribbled numbers on the wall. She stood very close to the wall, moving her head whenever she wanted to move her eyes. She stepped back at last and placed a long white finger on one of the numbers. “This one. This is the one he always called.”

Davis jotted down the number hastily, and then said, “Well, gee, thanks a million. You don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

“I hope you find him,” the landlady said. “Nice fellow, Mr. Radner.”

“One of the best,” Davis said.

He called the number from the first pay phone he found. He listened to the phone ring four times on the other end, and then a voice said, “Hello?”

“Hello,” he said. “I’m an old friend of Tony Radner’s. He asked me to look him up if ever I was in town.” He paused and forced himself to laugh in embarrassment. “Trouble is I can’t seem to find him. His landlady gave me this number...”

“Oh,” the girl said. “You must want my sister. This is Anne Trimble.”

“Oh,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize...” He paused. “Is your sister there?”

“No, she doesn’t live with me anymore. She and Tony got married.”

“Well, now, that’s wonderful,” Davis said. “Know where I can find them?”

“They’re still on their honeymoon.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” He thought for a few seconds, and then said, “I’ve got to catch a plane back tonight. I wonder if I might come over and... well, you could fill me in on what Tony’s been doing and all. Hate like the devil to go back without knowing something about him.”

The girl hesitated.

“I promise I’ll make it a very short visit. I’ve still got some business to attend to here. Besides... well, Tony loaned me a little money once, and I thought... well, if you don’t mind, I’d like to leave it with you.”

“I... I suppose that’d be all right,” she said.

“Fine. May I have the address?”

She gave it to him, and he told her he’d be there in about an hour, if that was all right with her. He went to the coffee counter then, ordered coffee and a toasted English, and browsed over them until it was time to go. He bought a plain white envelope on the way out, slipped twenty dollars into it, and sealed it. Then he hailed a cab.

He found the mailbox marked A. Trimble, and realized the initial sufficed for both Alice and Anne. He walked up two flights, stopped outside apartment 22, and thumbed the ivory stud in the doorjamb. A series of chimes floated from beyond the door, and then the peephole flap was thrown back.

“I’m Mr. Davis,” he said to the flap. “I called about—”

“Oh, yes,” Anne Trimble said. The flap descended, and the door swung wide.

She was a tall brunette, and her costume emphasized her height. She was wearing tightly tailored toreador slacks. A starched white blouse with a wide collar and long sleeves was tucked firmly into the band of the slacks. A bird in flight, captured in sterling, rested on the blouse just below the left breast pocket.

“Come in,” she said, “won’t you?” She had green eyes and black eyebrows, and she smiled pleasantly now.

Davis stepped into the cool apartment, and she closed the door behind him.

“I’m sorry if I seemed rude when you called,” she said. “I’m afraid you woke me.”

“Then I should be the one to apologize,” Davis said.

He followed her into a sunken living room furnished in Swedish modern. She walked to a long, low coffee table and took a cigarette from a box there, offering the box to him first. Davis shook his head and watched her as she lighted the cigarette. Her hair was cut close to her head, ringing her face with ebony wisps. She wore only lipstick, and Davis reflected that this was the first truly beautiful woman he had ever met. Two large, silver hoop earrings hung from her ears. She lifted her head, and the earrings caught the rays of the sun streaming through the blinds.

“Now,” she said. “You’re a friend of Tony’s, are you?”

“Yes,” he answered. He reached into his jacket pocket and took out the sealed envelope. “First, let me get this off my mind. Please tell Tony I sincerely appreciate the loan, won’t you?”

She took the envelope without comment, dropping it on the coffee table.

This is a very cool one, Davis thought.

“I was really surprised to learn that Tony was married,” he said.

“It was a little sudden, yes,” she said.

“Oh? Hadn’t he known your sister long?”

“Three months, four months.”

Davis shook his head.

“I still can’t get over it. How’d he happen to meet her?”

“Like that,” Anne said. “How do people meet? A concert, a club, a soda fountain.” She shrugged. “You know, people meet.”

“Don’t you like Tony?” he asked suddenly.

She seemed surprised. “Me? Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I think he’ll be very good for Alice. He has a strong personality, and she needs someone like him. Yes, I like Tony.”

“Well, that’s good,” Davis said.

“When we came to Frisco, you see, Alice was sort of at loose ends. We’d lived in L.A. all our lives, and Alice depended on Mom a good deal, I suppose. When Mom passed away, and this job opening came for me... well, the change affected her. Moving and all. It was a good thing Tony came along.”

“You live here alone then, just the two of you?”

Anne Trimble smiled and sucked in a deep cloud of smoke. “Just two little gals from Little Rock,” she said.

Davis smiled with her. “L.A., you mean.”

“The same thing. We’re all alone in the world. Just Alice and me. Dad died when we were both little girls. Now, of course, Alice is married. Don’t misunderstand me. I’m very happy for her.”

“When were they married?”

“January sixth,” she answered. “It’s been a long honeymoon.”

January sixth, Davis thought. The day the DC-4 crashed. “Where are they now?” he asked.

“Las Vegas.”

“Where in Las Vegas?”

Anne Trimble smiled again. “You’re not planning on visiting a pair of honeymooners, are you, Mr. Davis?”

“God, no,” he said. “I’m just curious.”

“Fact is,” Anne said, “I don’t know where they’re staying. I’ve only had a wire from them since they got married. I don’t imagine they’re thinking much about me. Not on their honeymoon.”

“No, I guess not,” Davis said, and smiled. “I understand Tony left his job. Is that right?”

“Yes. It didn’t pay much, and Tony is really a brilliant person. He and Alice said they’d look around after the honeymoon and settle wherever he could get located.”

“When did he quit?”

“A few days before they were married, I think. No, wait, it was on New Year’s Eve, that’s right. He quit then.”

“Then he wasn’t selling tickets on the day of...”

Anne looked at him strangely.

“The day of what?”

“The day he was married,” Davis said quickly.

“No, he wasn’t.” She continued looking at him, and then asked, “How do you happen to know Tony, Mr. Davis?”