Out of the Easy(74)

The entrance to Lockwell’s apartment was discreetly tucked down a deep, gated courtyard. He said the other two apartments were generally vacant, as the owners lived out of town. How convenient for him.

The apartment was small but lovely. Old oak floors ran the length of the long and narrow parlor. The high ceilings made it feel bigger. Sparsely furnished, but the pieces were tasteful, especially the desk in the corner, which had the framed picture of Lockwell on a hunting expedition. He saw me eyeing the desk.

“It’s a beauty, huh? It’s not all play. Sometimes I work here, too. Would you like a tour?”

The apartment was petite. There couldn’t be more than the small parlor, a kitchen, and a bedroom. “No, thank you,” I said, having a seat in one of the chairs.

Lockwell lit his cigar and sat down across from me. “So here we are. Quite a long way from where we started. I like how things have progressed.”

I nodded, tired, slightly off my usual spar with Lockwell. The encounter with Jesse still bothered me.

“All right, let’s just admit it. We’ve come full circle. I predicted you would come back to me for money, and here you are.”

I opened my mouth to object.

Lockwell raised his hand in protest. “Now, I’ll admit that you aren’t the shakedown I originally thought, but I’ve offered you a job several times, and you’ve always been quick to decline. Now you’re here about the job, and you’re not quite yourself, Josephine.” He sucked on the end of the cigar. “You need money, or you wouldn’t be here. It may be for college. It may be for something else. But you need money. How much?”

I tried to calculate what I thought I could borrow from Willie’s safe. “Two thousand dollars,” I told him.

Lockwell’s head popped back in surprise. “That’s quite a hefty sum.”

“That’s why I’m inquiring about a job.”

“It’ll take you two years to make two thousand dollars as a secretary. Maybe more.”

I didn’t have years. I had days.

“Unless”—he leaned back in the chair—“you’d prefer a more private arrangement. I’d front you some of the money, and we’d have a weekly arrangement here.”

I swallowed, hard. “And you’d front exactly how much? I’m in need of two thousand dollars.”

Lockwell rolled his cigar on his lips. I was a marionette. He loved pulling the strings. The power was titillating. “A thousand.”

“Fifteen hundred, cash,” I countered.

He looked at me. “But you can’t look like that.” He pulled out his wallet and handed me a fifty-dollar bill. “Go to Maison Blanche, pick out a nice dress and some high heels. Real heels, no loafers, or whatever you call them. Get your hair and nails done, too. Buy some perfume if you want. Come back the day after tomorrow at seven o’clock. I’ll have dinner brought in.”

He rolled his cigar against his bottom lip and stared at me. I stared back. “Well, I’ve got an appointment. I’ll show you out.”

I could feel his eyes all over me from behind as I walked to the door. I held my pocketbook tight against my left side, trying to hide the slice in my blouse from Cincinnati’s knife.

Fifteen hundred. That meant I’d have to steal over three thousand from Willie. I stepped out the door and turned around.

“See you soon, Josephine,” he said with a wink.

I stared at him, and my nose wrinkled, thinking I could smell the vinegar in his veins. Could I do this? But somehow the words came right out of my mouth. “See you soon,” I told him.





FIFTY-ONE


Two days passed. I still didn’t have a dime. Five more days, and Marcello’s men would track me down. Willie didn’t ask me to put money in the safe that morning, almost as if she had read my mind and knew what was going on. I got a postcard from Patrick saying the Keys were beautiful and that he missed me. I got another letter from Charlotte, asking if I could confirm the visit to the Berkshires in August. I thought of Tangle Eye Lou showing up at the Gateses’ home in the Berkshires, hunting me down for the five thousand dollars he said I owed Marcello.

The cops had raided Willie’s. A car dropped Dora, Sweety, and two johns at the shop to hide. When I opened the door, they all came running in, Dora clutching a bottle of crème de menthe and Sweety holding the hand of sweaty and trembling Walter Sutherland, who wore nothing but boxer shorts and a necktie.

“Raid party!” shouted Dora. She turned on the radio, and they danced between the bookshelves. I sat on the stairs and watched beautiful, heartful Sweety with Walter Sutherland’s fat pink arms around her. His eyes were closed, and his head rested on her shoulder as he drifted off into a dreamland. It nauseated me. She was so beautiful and kind, she didn’t have to do this. I didn’t have to do it either. I could run away, go off to Massachusetts without telling a soul.

I had just returned from Willie’s and was cleaning the shop after the raid party when I heard a noise at the door. I turned and waited for a knock but none came. And then I saw it. A large brown envelope was wedged askew between Jesse’s shutters and the glass door. I dusted off my hands and removed the keys from my pocket. I opened the door and the envelope fell faceup onto the tile. I saw the return address and lost my breath.