Out of the Easy(39)

TWENTY-FIVE


I was a liar.

I’m sorry, Miss Paulsen. A Passage to India is currently under restoration. No, Patrick, I don’t know who Mother was with near the Roosevelt Hotel. Yes, Jesse, I’m going to meet Patrick tonight. No, Willie, I didn’t know Mother had left for California. No, Detective Langley, I didn’t find Forrest Hearne’s watch under my mother’s bed, a bed in a brothel with a bullet hole in the headboard.

It went on. Each lie I told required another to thicken the paste over the previous. It was useless, like when I learned to crochet and made a long string of loops. Being useless builds character, Miss Paulsen had said. Perhaps she was home now, drinking a weak Earl Grey from last night’s tea bag, massaging her taffied scalp.

I sat on my bed, staring at A Passage to India in my lap. How foolish of me to keep the book downstairs in the shop. But the pieces still didn’t fit together. If Forrest Hearne hadn’t come to Willie’s, then how did the watch end up in Mother’s room? If Mother knew about the watch, she certainly wouldn’t have left it. No, it would have been quite the complement to Cincinnati’s wardrobe of death. And Frankie said Mother had been at the Roosevelt Hotel on New Year’s Eve.

I crawled under my bed and pulled back the loose floorboard. I wrestled my hand through the opening, retrieved the cigar box, and inserted the book in its place. I made room for the box of money in the bottom of one of my desk drawers. Two things volleyed in my head:

Mr. Hearne hadn’t thought I was useless.

Someone who had been with Forrest Hearne had been at Willie’s.

? ? ?

Preparations for Mardi Gras swelled. People celebrated the oncoming festivities. For fourteen days, I carried John Lockwell’s business card in my pocket, vowing to call and inquire about the letter. For fourteen nights, I lay in bed, certain I could hear the telltale watch ticking under the floorboard.

Willie’s house was filthier each day as Mardi Gras approached. I arrived at five A.M. and saw cars parked deep in the belly of the long driveway. Willie rarely allowed cars in the drive. She said it was an excuse for cops to look at the house. Fortunately, the police became more lax around Mardi Gras.

The girls worked late and slept late. Evangeline had settled into her new room. It no longer smelled like Mother. Willie was exhausted, but I didn’t dare deviate from our normal schedule. I held the coffee tray and tapped the bottom of her door with my foot.

“That better be my coffee, and it better be hot.”

I pushed through the door and found Willie sitting up in bed, surrounded by bulging stacks of cash.

“Shut that door. I don’t need the girls seeing this green. They’ll ask for a bonus—like I don’t know they’re all pocketing extra on the side as it is. Do I have ‘Stupid’ tattooed on my forehead?” She dropped her hands in her lap. “Well, what do you have?”

“The usual Mardi Gras leftovers.” I emptied my apron pockets on her bed. Single cuff links, silk ties, lighters, party invitations, hotel keys, and a bulging money clip.

Willie reached for the money clip and counted the contents. “That’s the Senator’s. Seal it in a plain envelope and give it to Cokie. Have him deliver it to the Pontchartrain Hotel. That’s where he’s staying. We’re lucky he was with Sweety and not Evangeline. What else?”

“Evangeline’s pillowcases are torn.”

“Yeah, she had the scratcher last night,” said Willie.

“Speaking of Evangeline,” I began carefully, “I noticed she’s got some new jewelry in her box.”

“It’s not stolen. She’s got a big man.”

“Someone new?” I asked.

“No, he comes by every once in a while.” Willie placed a tall stack near the end of the bed and continued sorting. “Three thousand. Bring me a warm washcloth. This cash is filthy.”

“Evangeline’s new date is a jeweler?” I called from the bathroom.

“Nah, he’s a developer from Uptown. Builds hotels and shopping centers. I don’t like him. He’s got a twisted need for power. But he throws cash like rice.”

I stood at Willie’s bedside and cleaned her hands with the warm cloth. She leaned back against her pillows and sighed.

“Willie, your hands are swollen. What happened?”

“They’re yeasty. Too much salt.” She pulled her hands from my grasp and quickly gathered up the bills, stacking and rubber-banding them by denomination. “I cleared three grand just last night. If this keeps going, it’ll be the best season yet. The safe is open. Put these in and bring me the green box from the bottom shelf.”

Three thousand dollars. Willie earned a year of tuition to Smith in one night. I placed the stacks in the safe next to the other rows of cash and grabbed the green box she requested. The word Adler’s was etched in gold on the top. I knew Adler’s. It was an upscale jewelry store on Canal. Everything was beautiful and expensive. I had never set foot in Adler’s, but I sometimes looked in the window. I handed the box to Willie.

“Shall I tell Sadie about Evangeline’s pillowcases?” I asked, gathering up two glasses from Willie’s desk.

“Cut the act. You’re not thinking about pillowcases right now,” said Willie.

I sucked in a breath. I put the glasses back down on the desk so she wouldn’t see my hands shaking.