Lust is a Woman, page 10
Startled, Maria turned quickly around and laughed. “I guess so,” she said. “I was admiring your view.”
“Scotch and soda? Or do you want one of those horrible Tom Collinses?”
“Scotch and soda is fine.”
McKay, wearing a pair of dark gray slacks and a white, short-sleeved sport shirt, went behind the bar. Maria joined him, and watched him mix the drinks.
“Here you are.” McKay smiled, handing Maria a tinkling glass. He lifted his own in a toast. “To your virginity!”
“To what’s left of it, you mean,” Maria laughed easily, and they clinked their glasses gently together.
“And now, money talks.” McKay tasted his drink, and then put it firmly down. He left the bar and crossed to the painting. He took a firm grip on the molding and whipped the frame open like a door. Maria remained standing and watched him work the combination of the wall safe that had been hidden by the picture. This is like a movie, she thought; I’ve never seen a safe like that except in movies.
McKay returned to the bar, opened a black metal box, and shuffled through a stack of gray-green traveller’s checks. He counted them a second time, and handed the stack to Maria. “A thousand dollars,” he said lightly, “in unsigned traveller’s checks. They’re perfectly good, Maria, and much safer than cash. There isn’t any point in returning to the city and then driving out again this evening. So signing them on the top line will give you something to do this afternoon.”
“I didn’t know you could get unsigned traveller’s checks from the bank,” Maria said. “But I’d rather have them than cash.”
“You can’t,” McKay said. “But I can. Go ahead and count them.”
Maria pushed her glass to one side and slowly counted the checks as she placed them one by one on the bar in front of her. The checks were in twenty-dollar denominations, and when she had finished counting them, she looked quizzically at McKay.
“I must have made a mistake,” she said hesitantly. “I only counted five hundred dollars…?”
“That’s right,” McKay explained patiently. “I gave you a two hundred and sixty dollar down payment on the Sea Witch. Your apartment at the Rotunda is two-fifty a week. But I discounted the ten dollars you had to pay for cab fare out here. And that’s it. One thousand even.”
“Yes, but—” Maria’s face flamed with swift anger. “Who told you to move me into that expensive apartment in Miami for only one hundred, or one-fifty a month at most!”
“That’s enough, Maria!” McKay said sharply, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t tell me anything! Get it straight and get it through that little head of yours once and forever. I do the telling! From now on. You’ll live where I tell you to live, and you’ll do what I tell you to do! Do I make myself clear?”
The angry retort on the tip of her tongue was checked; there was a strong positive ring to McKay’s voice that Maria had never heard before. With trembling fingers, she opened her purse and dropped the stack of traveller’s checks inside. For the first time Maria realized that this was a serious business she had gotten herself into. This wasn’t a child’s game a person could quit when she got tired of playing. And she was too late to get out of it…
McKay placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and Maria could not control the perceptible shudder that ran down her back. “Now we don’t want to fight, do we, Maria?” McKay’s tone was kind and soothing, which frightened Maria even more than his angry voice. “I look after you girls like a father. When you have troubles, I take care of them. We’re going to be friends, aren’t we?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s the ticket.” He smiled and nodded. “Now, bring your drink along and I’ll show you to your room.”
Maria picked up her glass and followed McKay across the deep carpet toward the hallway. A hard lump formed in her throat and she fought back tears with all of the strength she could muster. “You girls!” He might as well have said, “You whores!” That’s what he meant, and whether you were paid two hundred dollars or two dollars, or twenty-five cents, the members of the world’s oldest profession were all lumped together under the single ugly word.
Maria’s room was the first one on the left of the hall. McKay opened the door, and politely allowed her to precede him. The room was an ordinary bedroom, containing a wide double bed, two occasional chairs, a small desk, and a door leading into a bathroom. The room was windowless. The extraordinary feature was the two large, square mirrors; one paralleling the bed, the other on the ceiling above the bed.
“There’s a pen in the drawer,” McKay said, pulling the chair out from the writing desk to seat Maria. “Your costume for tonight’s party is in the closet, but don’t touch it. I’ll have someone help you dress later.”
Maria opened the drawer, and took out a white ballpoint pen. She twisted in her chair to face McKay. “I’m sorry about my outburst, Mr. McKay,” she said apologetically. “I’m nervous, very nervous about tonight.”
“It’s perfectly understandable. I’m not angry, my dear, not as long as we understand each other.” McKay entered the bathroom, and reappeared a moment later with a glass of water, which he handed to Maria. In his other hand were three white pills. “Take these,” he said kindly. “Two are aspirins and the tiny one is codeine. They’ll help you relax.”
Maria obediently swallowed the pills, and drank the entire glass of water. “What do I do now, Mr. McKay? Just sit in here for the rest of the afternoon?”
“That’s right. Take it easy. Sign your checks, and then take a little nap. Later on I’ll have the houseboy wake you and bring you a nice little steak. You can take a shower, and by that time one of the girls will be here to help you dress. All right?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for the pills. I feel better already.”
As soon as McKay had closed the door, Maria signed the top line of all the checks. The room was soundproof quiet except for the hissing streams of air coming from the air-conditioning ducts. After signing her checks, Maria removed her blouse, skirt and shoes, and lay down on the bed. She felt drowsy, and somehow contented. She thought back to the night on the Sea Witch and the childish sex play with Mr. McKay. If she hadn’t been so tight she would probably have enjoyed it. What would tonight be like? For several years now she had wondered what it would be like to have a man make love to her. Well, tonight she would finally find out! There wasn’t anything really wrong with it. People did it all the time. In the quiet room she could almost hear the excited thumping of her heart.
She could see the length of her full figure in the mirror on the ceiling; her dark head on the white pillow; the swelling thighs beneath the white slip, and the long tapering legs. She cupped her breasts with both hands, watching herself in the polished ceiling mirror. Her eyelids were getting heavy and she allowed them to close.
“Well,” she said, yawning lazily, “whoever gets me tonight: you sure are a lucky man!”
TEN
RALPH awakened at ten A.M., and sat on the edge of the bed for fifteen minutes, smoking two cigarettes before he got wearily to his feet and shuffled to the dresser. His headache was mild, but every muscle in his body was sore and tired. He swallowed two dexedrine and three aspirin tablets without water, grimaced at the dry taste in his mouth, and sat on the edge of the bed again. The memory of Hazel crowded his mind with confused images. His remembered thoughts were worse than his scotch hangover.
The dexedrine lifted Ralph’s depression enough for him to take yet another shower, and shave; and then he returned to his room and sprawled on the bed again. The square of sunlight across his bare legs, shining in from the window, brightened the shabby room. In his mind Ralph compared Maria to Hazel, point by point, inch by inch, but this mental torture only increased his self-disgust. I must have been crazy, he thought, to get mixed up with a woman like Hazel.
Lethargically, Ralph dressed, pulling a T-shirt over his bare chest and slipping into a pair of faded khaki shorts. He changed belt and money from the slacks he had worn the night before, shoved his feet into a pair of scuffed loafers, and went downstairs. At the door, Mrs. Hirsch called to him, and he turned to face her with his hand on the knob.
“Mr. Tone,” she said. “Mr. Grant called and asked for you to wait for him. He wants to see you, he said. I didn’t call you to the telephone because I thought you were still asleep.”
“I was. Thanks.” Ralph opened the door and stood for a moment on the front porch, blinking in the bright sunlight.
“You didn’t have any breakfast,” Mrs. Hirsch reminded him from inside the house, chirping through the screen door. “Would you like me to bring you a nice glass of carrot juice?”
“No, thanks,” Ralph replied. “I’m going to take a walk. If Mr. Grant calls again, tell him I’ll be back.”
Ralph walked two blocks to Mom’s Cafe, and ordered coffee and toast. He was unable to eat the toast, but after three cups of coffee, he began to feel human again, and his headache was gone. The beach is the answer, he thought. A few hours in the sun, a few refreshing dips in the water, and I’ll wash Hazel out of my mind. Then I can face Maria with a clear conscience, but if Tommy wants to see me, it’s too much of a drag to make it to the beach and back again before two. Ralph returned to the rooming house, made two piles of dirty laundry, one of his roommate’s and one of his own, wrapped each bundle in a dirty shirt and took them down to his car. He sat on the front steps soaking up sunlight, until the tinkling dinner bell sounded inside for lunch. Ralph didn’t eat any of the boiled vegetables, but managed to swallow two glasses of beet juice and one of celery juice before he returned to his room. His body was damp from sitting in the hot sun so he took a long cold shower and dressed again. Tommy entered the room a few minutes after two.
Tommy’s face was troubled and he didn’t greet Ralph with his usual exuberance. He sat on a straight-backed chair and looked seriously at him for a long moment. His roommate’s steady gaze made Ralph uncomfortable.
“What did you want to see me about, Tommy?”
“Nothing much.”
“Something’s on your mind, Tommy. Spill it.”
“I’m your friend—right, Ralph?” Tommy asked, mysteriously. “We’re fraternity brothers, right?”
“Of course you’re my friend,” Ralph replied.
“I don’t want you to get sore, Ralph.”
“I’m not sore. Why should I be?”
“Because that queen-sized New York beauty, that lovely Maria you’re so stuck on isn’t a damned bit better than Hazel.”
For an instant Ralph looked at Tommy’s serious face. A second later he was straddling Tommy’s legs, his strong fingers digging into the smaller man’s throat. “Take that back, damn you!”
Tommy’s eyes were steady and he made no attempt to defend himself. Under Tommy’s direct, indifferent eyes, Ralph dropped his hands and shook his head sorrowfully. “You shouldn’t say things like that, Tommy,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, but when you kid a man about the girl he’s in love with, don’t act like you mean it.” Ralph sat down on the edge of his bed, his chin on his chest.
Tommy rubbed his neck with the tips of his fingers. “I told you not to get sore, Ralph,” he said. “But I am serious. Before I say anything else, go downstairs and call Maria Dugan at the hotel. Say you’re Mr. Smith, and ask for Miss Dugan in 901.”
“That isn’t Maria’s room. Nine is all apartments.”
“That’s right,” Tommy agreed. “Two-fifty a week in summer, three-fifty a week during the season. Make the call.”
Ralph hesitated, a fresh question ready, but Tommy jerked his thumb at the door. “Go ahead. Call. Find out.”
A few minutes later Ralph came back and sat down. His eyes were puzzled as he looked at his friend. “I called, Tommy, but she wasn’t in. Dugan is a common name; maybe she—”
“Wake up, Ralph!” Tommy said sharply. “I know where she is. She’s out at Mr. McKay’s Everglades Estate house! You know the two other high class call girls on the ninth floor. Miss Snooty-butt, registered as Mrs. Green, and that other woman, Mrs. Mattox. Both of them are supposed to be grass widows, but we both know different, Ralph, so why kid yourself? They’re both in the two hundred bucks a night class, and your sweet Maria has joined their ranks.”
“How do you know so damned much?” Ralph said angrily. “You’re just putting a lot of below-the-belt guesses together! Maria said she had a lot of savings. She might have moved to 901 for the view. Did you ever think of that?”
“No. And you don’t think so either. Look, Ralph, I’m not a snooper, but there aren’t any secrets from hotel employees. If you weren’t my buddy I wouldn’t say anything, but I don’t want you taken in by any prostitute. You were drunk last night, sure, but you were talking too damned seriously about Maria to suit me. When you mentioned marriage, I thought I had to do something.”
Both of them were silent for a full minute, and then Ralph cleared his throat. “Okay, Tommy,” he said hoarsely. “I’ll listen.”
“First of all, I had a break. Bruno Fisk is back in town.”
“Who’s Bruno Fisk?”
“The waiter. The guy who first told me about the little parties out at Mr. McKay’s house. He came into the locker room this morning, prosperous as hell. When he left for Palm Beach about three weeks ago, his new job didn’t pan out, so he picked up with a rich gay boy on vacation. He shacked up with him and before his lover left for Cleveland he bought Bruno a second-hand Porsche as a going-away present. Bruno showed the car to us in the lot. It’s some wheels, Ralph, gray, plenty of chrome. He needs a new top, but—”
“I don’t care about the car, Tommy.”
“All right. I’m just telling you the way it happened. While I was looking at the car, I tried to pump a little info out of Bruno. I lied to him. I told him I cleaned up three hundred bucks in a crap game, and that I’d like to spend it all at a stag party like Mr. McKay held.
“He gave me one of those real pitiful looks. Lit a big cigar, don’t you know. ‘It so happens,’ he said, ‘that Mr. McKay is having a party tonight, kid, but a measly three hundred bucks wouldn’t get you into the kitchen as a dishwasher.’”
“‘I can get a little more,’ I told him. Bruno laughed. He said my name wasn’t big enough, even if I had enough dough, which I couldn’t possibly have. I asked him how come he knew there was a party tonight, and he told me that he’d shown his new car to Tarzan down at the Marina, and Tarzan asked him if he wanted to tend bar tonight. He’s loaded with dough now, and he said he laughed in Tarzan’s face. This I doubt, because anybody who ever laughed in that guy’s face wouldn’t have been around to tell about it.
“Did you get anymore out of Bruno about what went on? Anything like that?” Ralph asked.
“No. I tried, but he clammed up. He got a little scared, I think. It’s all right to put on the big shot act to the Head Busboy, but when we got onto McKay and the party, I could tell by his eyes that he was afraid he’d said too damned much. And when I left he grabbed my arm and made me promise to keep still about the party. ‘Mr. McKay and his guests are too big for little people like us,’ he said.”
Ralph stood up and flexed his arms. “Where’s Bruno now? I think I could knock a little information out of him, and I’d like to try,” he said grimly.
“Halfway to Naples by now,” Tommy said. “The guy from Cleveland gave him some addresses of some guys on the West Coast, and he was driving over to stretch his luck. I don’t think we’ll see Bruno in Miami Beach again. He was only driving through, and he just stopped to brag to us peasants.”
“Okay. The hell with Bruno. What about Maria? How do you know she went out to McKay’s house?”
Tommy grinned. “Big Tim, the doorman. After lunch I took him a turkey sandwich. And I loaded it with plenty of mayonnaise and sliced tomatoes. I smoked a cigarette while I waited for the plate, and I casually asked him if he had seen Miss Dugan. He’s a pretty surly guy as a rule, but the free sandwich softened him up. ‘Why?’ he asked me. ‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Only Miss Dugan asked me to tell her when we had some fresh red snapper. And I called her on the house phone to tell her, and she wasn’t in.’ Then he told me she went out to Mr. McKay’s home at Everglades Estates.”
“You’re quite a little detective, aren’t you?” Ralph said bitterly.
“Aren’t you glad to know? You don’t think I enjoy snooping around and lying, do you?”
“I’m sorry,” Ralph apologized. “But I don’t know! I’ve got to find out for myself. How did you find out Maria moved to 901?”
“My keys,” Tommy grinned. “As the Head Busboy I keep the keys to the orange juice and dairy refrigerator. And when the room waiter signed the order for cream and orange juice for Miss Dugan’s apartment on the ninth floor, I asked him if it was the same Miss Dugan who had been on Four. He said yes, and when I had a little time I confirmed it with Jonny Townsend on the elevator.”
Ralph nodded. “So far, Tommy, everything rings true like little bells. I don’t doubt anything you told me, but I still don’t know anything. You heard this and you heard that, and so on, but what it adds up to is Maria changing her room, and then being invited to a party at Mr. McKay’s house. Do you see what I mean? I can’t accuse her of a single thing unless I know definitely. McKay could be having an innocent party. I can’t put trust in what a guy like Bruno says. He thinks it’s an honor to be a male prostitute. With a mind like that he could say anything.”
“You’re a hard man to convince, Ralph,” Tommy said, throwing up his hands with exasperation.
“I love her, that’s why.” Ralph buried his face in his hands, sobbed dryly, and then composed himself. He breathed deeply through his nose and looked down at the floor.
“Ralph,” Tommy said softly, “don’t let it get you, boy. I think I know how you feel about the girl, but facts are facts. Forget about her. Go to work tonight and get her off your mind. Maria isn’t worth stewing about.”
Ralph’s brown eyes were dark and hard. His lips were tight. “I’m going out to McKay’s house tonight. I’ll find out.”
