Ed Lacy - The Woman Aroused

I'd never call Lee a passionate woman, but she certainly was extremely capable.

Chapter 4

I AWOKE AT nine the next morning and had to rush. Lee was sprawled across the bed, sleeping heavily, and she certainly was the largest and best-shaped woman I'd ever seen. I dressed and showered quickly, and the sight of this Amazon in my bed pleased me. Without thinking it out very much, I was impressed with my own cleverness—I was keeping Lee with her own money!

I left a note that I'd be home by six, told her where to shop, and put a five-dollar bill beside the note. I took a cab to the office, didn't have time to stop for my scratch sheet or even breakfast. I felt in top spirits.

Shortly before noon I called the house, but there wasn't any answer. I supposed Lee was out shopping for supper. Joe lunched with me, was full of chatter about the television set Walt had bought, and what a sharp character the kid was. “Believe me, Georgie, that kid has something on the ball. Army was the best thing in the world for him. Why he even hit the daily double Saturday—only paid thirty-four bucks, but that's some picking: He's looking the package-store deal over carefully. Seems not all these liquor stores are making dough. And he's going to school—one night a week—Columbia. Taking an extension course in the principles of merchandising, so he can run his store right. And you should see the dolls he has up to the house. Fact is, I'm spending most of my nights in the Turkish baths. Kid wants me to share his dolls, but I don't think that's right. Although some of them are real fine sex-boats. How about going to the baths with me tonight?”

“Sorry, I'm busy.”

Joe gave me a shrewd look. “Oh—Flo back again?”

I shook my head. “Another girl. Talk about sex-boats, this one's a whole fleet.” I called for the check.

Joe looked at me pop-eyed. “Tell poppa all about...”

“Some other time, perhaps,” I said, as the waiter came over.

During the afternoon I kept thinking about the way I'd left her sprawled across the bed. I was too restless to work, so I told Harvey I had a headache, took off. I called the house again and there wasn't any answer.

I took a cab to her place on 29th Street. She had left the door unlocked and I went in. The place was so dirty and smelled so badly, I nearly gave up. I wondered if Lee had been too grief-stricken to do any housework, although she hadn't been too deep in sorrow to sleep with me. As I looked around the apartment I was nearly overcome with a feeling of guilt: with poor Hank dead a month I already had his money and his wife. But it wasn't any of my doing—he had given me the money—to hold—and Lee had been the one to volunteer herself.

There wasn't much in the flat, the furniture scratched and stained. I went through her closet and drawers, gathered her clothes. (There were a few suits—Hank's no doubt—that gave me quite a start.) I took whatever clothes she had that weren't too dirty or torn. She didn't have much, there wasn't a decent pair of stockings, for instance, nor did I see any heavy or winter coats. I made a bundle of her stinking clothes and as I started out of the apartment, I almost walked into a little rat-faced man standing in the hallway. He had on work clothes and nodded at the stuff in my arms, asked, “What you doing here, mister?”

His voice was mild and squeaky, but when I tried to walk past him, he blocked the way, said, “I'm the super of the house. They—she—owes rent... last month.”

“I'm not sure Mrs. Conroy wants to keep the apartment any longer.”

He pushed back his battered felt hat, rubbed his thin hair.

“Have to talk to the agent about that. They—she—has a lease.”

I rested the clothes on the stairway railing, pulled a ten-dollar bill out of my pocket. “Look, if you don't hear from Mrs. Conroy within the next week, evict her. And forget you ever saw me.” I slipped him the ten.

He hesitated a moment, pocketed the bill. “You her brother?”

“No. I'm a friend of the Conroys. All this has been a severe shock to her, naturally, and Mrs. Conroy may leave the city. But forget you saw me.”

“It's okay with me, mister. But the agent will want last month's rent and you can't break a lease by...”

“Stop it. Clean and paint the place, fix up the furniture a little, and the agent will get a couple hundred under the table—again, like he did from the Conroys. But remember, wait a week, in case Mrs. Conroy changes her mind.”

As I went down the stairs I heard him mumble. “Okay with me, but them people sure caused us plenty trouble...”

I took a cab uptown and the sour smell of her things made me want her. I left the clothes in a dry-cleaning place on the corner, brushed myself off, and walked over to the house. Slob was sitting outside and I picked him up as I unlocked the door, said, “What's the matter, boy, bit shocked at my having a girl around?”

Inside, he jumped out of my hands, made for the kitchen. I called out, “Lee? Lee?” but there wasn't any answer. For a moment I had the uncomfortable feeling that she had left me. But the night before I had undressed her in the living room, and her dress was still across the couch, her sweater on the floor where she had dropped it, and in the bathroom doorway I could see her shoes. I called her name again, ran into the bedroom.

She was sprawled across the bed, and I swear that she hadn't moved an inch since I'd left her in the morning. She was staring up at the ceiling, as if in deep thought, didn't even look at me. My note was still on the night table, but the five dollar bill was gone.

I sat on the bed, stroked her hard thigh. “Hello, Lee honey. Haven't you been out?”

She didn't answer, still examined the ceiling.

“Anything wrong? I phoned twice but you must have been out...” I stopped. Remembering her clothes in the living room, I damn well knew she hadn't left the house.

She didn't pay the slightest attention to me and I sat like that for a moment, wondering what I'd done. Perhaps she felt guilty about spending the night with her dead husband's best friend. Perhaps... I said, “I was down to your place, put your clothes in the cleaners. You'll have to decide if you want to keep the apartment. The janitor was asking about it.” This didn't get a rise out of her, and for want of something more to say, I asked, “Would you like to eat?”

She sat up, stared at me. I noticed she'd been smoking in bed—there were ashes and a few crushed, blackened butts on the sheet beneath her. She said, “Ja, essen.”

“What? Look, are you hungry?”

“Yes. I am very hungry,” she said, like a kid in an elocution class.

She was looking at me, but in an odd manner, as though I wasn't there.

I stood up. “Why didn't you go out and shop?”

She didn't answer and I playfully reached down and shook her. With cat speed she moved away from me, to the other side of the bed, her eyes alert, watching me. When she moved I saw all her muscles and I'll swear she was actually muscle-bound.

I sat down on a chair, didn't talk for a minute. Then I asked, “Lee, is something the matter? Why didn't you get up? Why didn't you shop?”

She relaxed, stretched with sensuous ease on the bed, her big body inviting. She giggled.

“What's the joke?”

She said, “Where is the money?”

“What money?”

“You said fifty dollars. I find only this.” The drawl was back in her voice. She reached under a pillow, waved the five spot I'd left in the morning.

“I'll give you the money tomorrow. I have to go to the bank. And you'll need clothes, I'll buy a wardrobe,”

She looked puzzled, as if she didn't understand a word I said. I got up again. “Look, bathe and dress, I'll shop.” I reached over for the five dollars, but she coyly pulled away, put the bill under her. I was too hungry to play, so I said, “Get dressed,” and went out. In her dirty dress I didn't want to be seen with her in any restaurant. As I walked down the street, Henderson waved to me from his window.