Микки Спиллейн - The Long Wait

“The name is Johnny. Johnny McBride.”

“Okay, Johnny.” Her eyes touched my face speculatively a second and something like a grin pulled at her mouth. “I’m in fast company, aren’t I?” She mused. “I thought there was something familiar about you. That picture in the paper didn’t do you justice.”

The grin got very real. “But never mind, a lot of my best friends have had overnight accommodations in our official hostelry.”

This time she curled her arm around mine and pulled herself over closer, leaning her head on my shoulder. I liked it that way. Her hair was so black it was invisible in the darkness, but I could feel little feathers of it brushing my face and smell the flowers that seemed to be growing there.

A signpost told me where to cut off on the River Road and a neon-trimmed sign said the place we were after was only two miles ahead. Long before we got there the aurora of the lights showed up like a false dawn while the breeze carried the throbbing rhythm of “Bolero” through the air.

It had been another long day and it wasn’t over yet. Logan with that back history of mine. Lindsey and Tucker and the boys from Washington with all their science and gadgets. My hands were still sore. A murder I didn’t have anything to do with for a change. A screwy ad in the paper and a screwier phone call then a dead man I did have something to do with.

Thinking about the phone call was what got me. Who the hell was so interested in me and why? I gave Venus a poke with my elbow. “You awake?”

Her hand squeezed my arm.

“You know anybody named Harlan?”

First she didn’t do anything. Then she tilted her head forward and glanced at me with her face wrinkled up. “Just Harlan?”

“That’s as much of it as I know.”

“There was a girl once... a long time ago. That was her name. Funny you should mention it.”

I took my foot off the gas and let the heap slow down some. “Go on,” I said.

“She was a dancer... we were in a show together. I know that Harlan was her stage name, but I never knew her other.”

“When was this?”

“Oh, a long time ago. Ten years. Both of us were new at the time. When the show closed I never went back on the stage, but I remember reading about Harlan occasionally. For a while she was pretty successful, then I never heard any more about her. Why, Johnny?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Why. Why a lot of things? Remember what she looked like?”

“Dressed or undressed?”

“Both.”

“Dressed she was very beautiful. However, like most of the show-lovelies, she was a very plain base upon which make-up showed to the best advantage. There was nothing to hide; everything added was an improvement. Understand?”

I nodded to show that I did.

“She was about my size, brown hair, no distinguishing features that might set her apart after all these years. Oh yes, she was dumb. The genuine beautiful-but-dumb type. She was quite a doll as long as she kept her mouth shut. When she voiced an opinion all her admirers got sick to their stomachs.”

“She sounds great. Would she be in Lyncastle?”

“Not if I know Harlan. I’ve never seen her around.”

“Maybe it’s a different woman. That is, if Harlan is a woman.”

I let out a couple of dirty words under my breath and shoved the gas pedal down again. There was the answer all right. Harlan was either a man or a place. Great, I was doing fine again. And for a couple of minutes it all looked so good, too.

Venus lost herself in thought before she spoke again. “Someplace at home I have a picture of the old chorus lineup. The Harlan I knew is in it. Just for kicks I’ll dig it up.”

I muttered an okay and pulled the Ford around a curve. Up ahead was the Ship’n Shore looking like a grounded houseboat, alive with lights and sound. On the near side was a two-acre parking lot crammed to the fences with not a sign of anybody even thinking about going home.

A colored attendant waved me into a slot near the gate, took the four bits for his wave with an unconcerned nod and went back into his stuccoed cabana. You didn’t need a guide around the place, not with all the neon fixtures that told you just what was where. The bar was in the front of the place with the main lounge directly behind it protruding out over the water. Every table was packed, the dance floor was a blur of motion and out over the water on the open deck you could see the flashes of white that were faces merging with other flashes of white.

But the gimmicks were upstairs. The place had a second story that had windows all around except for a section in back and nobody tried to hide the chant of the croupiers or the whir of the wheels. You could even see the clusters of people hovering over the tables, straightening up when the throw was made, reaching for more moola to keep in the game.

Venus didn’t give me any choice. She nudged me into the bar, smiled a smile that got us a rail position and immediate service and ordered up a pair of highballs. They were two bucks each but I wasn’t bothering about money. Not with those nice, crisp bills tucked away in my wallet.

I laid a new hundred-buck bill on the mahogany, watched it get changed into some old ones, shoved the bartender a fin for his trouble and downed the drink. Venus was about two swallows behind me. We had two more quickies when I noticed the gang lined up at the bar giving me and Venus the business with the eyes. I gave her a second look myself. Before, it was dark and she looked good.

Under lights she was really something.

Ever see a babe pass on the street who was all smooth curves with enough skin showing in spots to make it exciting? The kind you wanted to whistle at but couldn’t get your mouth puckered up fast enough? That was Venus. To make it rough on the boys she didn’t bother to wear anything under the jacket and where it dropped off in a long V before the buttons grabbed it together was something that made your breath catch m your throat. It wasn’t what you saw, but what you knew was there, and the business I was getting with the eyes was because it was there for me.

But that wasn’t all.

They knew damn well who she was all right. You could tell that. The boys weren’t above dropping down to her block occasionally. So tonight they were here and supposedly respectable, and the eyes made the business you’d give a slut when she walked into a church social. When I caught the angle I felt like knocking them all on their lily-white tails.

I guess the bartender took me for a hick on the town with his harvest wages because he was giving Venus the big look that meant she had a sucker in tow and upstairs was the place for the suckers. He waited until a quarter of the hundred was in the till then angled over in our direction polishing glasses.

He looked at me with a faint grin and said, “You can double that roll upstairs, friend.”

“I can?” I must have played it innocent enough because he nodded solemnly.

“Sure thing. Guy came through here last week and left with twenty-five grand.”

“Say now,” I nudged Venus with my knee. “That sounds pretty hot with the cubes, mister. Think there might be any big-money men up there who like to gamble? Really gamble, I mean?”

My boy played it cute. He leaned over confidentially. “All the big boys are upstairs, friend. All, I said. You’ll get your money’s worth.” He winked at Venus. “The lady too. Drinks on the house upstairs”

That was all I needed. I shoved the change in my pocket and the two of us edged back through the mob and followed the waiter who had come up at the bartender’s nod to show us the way. I gave him a fin, too.

It was fancier than I expected. A million bucks worth of chrome and pine paneling and not a cent of it going to waste. A bar ran the entire length of the room with tables along the other side if you felt like taking a ten-minute break. Every other inch of space was taken up with some kind of game with the biggest play being given the roulette that occupied the center position.