Spring Always Comes, page 14
Roommates. Madame’s eyebrows drew together again. Strange roommates, the little country girl who had so greatly improved when she simplified her hairstyle, and this lovely creature with her distinction.
Friend of a customer? Hmm. Madame shrugged her shoulders. If that were true, sooner or later she would remember. She always did.
Fourteen
The afternoon passed like a dream. Lil and Connie changed from dress to dress, retouching makeup, rearranging their hair, changing shoes to fit the suits and dresses, the negligees and sports clothes.
Then out of the stuffy back rooms with their bare floors into the salon with its wall-to-wall carpet, its discreet perfume, the customers sitting on the gray satin couches, commenting, exclaiming, sometimes bored or critical, and always Madame, serene, dignified, making no extravagant claims, merely introducing each garment and pointing out its unique qualities.
When she made her first appearance before customers Connie had to brace herself, take a long breath, and force herself to open the swinging doors at the back, to encounter the inquisitive eyes. After the third or fourth hasty change, her mind occupied with the garment she was to display and the best way of presenting it, she began to forget herself. She realized, little by little, that, after the first glance, the women forgot her as a person, that they thought of her only as a clothes horse, an animated dummy that walked and turned and backed and smiled, always that same fixed, dreamy smile.
It was only when the climax of the afternoon was reached, with the modeling of the wedding gown, that Connie became aware that she was more than a figurine, she was a woman, romantic, passionate, ardent, making a pretense of the ceremony that was dearest to a woman’s heart. As Lil adjusted the filmy white veil, Connie looked at the tall, slim figure in its bridal satin, at the face seen like a dream through the veil, at the train that Lil and the dressmaker were carefully adjusting.
She paced slowly into the salon, walking with slow, measured steps, eyes down, as though on her way to the altar, and then at the end of the room she turned, paced back, made another turn, and the swinging doors closed behind her.
Then at last the customers were gone, the dressmakers were folding up material, getting out coats and hats, and Connie was slipping into her own coat. That afternoon Madame had, during a lull, told her what salary she might expect. To Connie’s pleased surprise, it was twenty-five per cent more than she had earned at Emery & Emery. Had earned. Already the law office seemed light years away.
As she and Lil left Céleste’s for the night, Connie drew a long breath. “Well!” she said.
Lil squeezed her arm. “I knew you’d be a natural. Didn’t I tell you so? Didn’t I? Let’s buy a steak for dinner to celebrate.”
When they reached home they set down their bags of groceries on the kitchen table and then Connie flopped on the couch, kicked off her shoes and moaned. She looked down at her feet.
“Well,” she said in surprise, “they are still there. I thought I’d worn them off clear up to the ankle.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Lil assured her. “Now you just keep your feet up and rest.”
“You’ve been modeling, too,” Connie reminded her.
“But it’s not my first day. I never was so surprised as when I walked in after lunch and there you were.” For the first time it occurred to Lil to wonder how it had happened. “Connie, what about your other job?”
“I quit,” Connie said briefly.
Lil busied herself in the kitchen. After a while there came the sizzling sound of broiling steak. Connie turned to see Lil standing in the doorway, swathed in a big apron, looking at her.
“Was it something to do with Colin?”
“I had a quarrel with Mr. Emery, his older brother,” Connie told her. “He seems to think that he not only runs Emery & Emery but that he runs me, too. So I blew up. And I resigned.” She began to laugh. “I’ll bet that man never heard so many home truths in his whole life.”
“He wants you to marry Colin, doesn’t he?”
“I told him I wasn’t interested in Colin and that Colin wasn’t interested in me.”
Lil still waited, knowing that her roommate was holding something back. Connie liked her too much to lie to her. To change the subject she said, “But I never told you the real reason why I went darting into Céleste’s.” She explained then about the red-headed man and was relieved to see that the incident caught Lil’s interest, distracting it from the quarrel with Stephen Emery.
“You say this man had been watching you in the cafeteria, followed you to see where your office was, and then today he trailed you until you ducked into Céleste’s, where he could hardly follow. I don’t understand it, Connie. He didn’t try to speak to you?”
Connie shook her head. Now that she was home, that she had Lil’s comforting and fortifying presence, she did not understand why she had been so frightened.
“What did he look like?”
“Like a rat,” Connie said. “He was rather shabby and flashy; in the cafeteria I saw he had a broken front tooth; he walks hard, coming down on his heels; he has red hair.”
“How old?”
“Perhaps forty-five.”
“Well, he didn’t bother you, after all. He didn’t try to speak to you. He didn’t make any attempt to snatch your handbag. He could hardly be a kidnaper. What do you suppose he wanted?”
Without waiting for a reply Lil went back to serve the dinner and the two girls ate ravenously. When the dishes had been cleared up, Lil settled down in the now mended armchair.
“What’s it all about, Connie? You’ve thought of something, haven’t you? I can tell by your expression.”
“Nick,” Connie said. She told Lil about the armed man at the Maine airport, about Nick’s job described as a “form of insurance,” about the danger he had been in, about his saying that she might be in danger herself if he could not raise the money.
Lil listened round-eyed.
“I thought,” Connie said helplessly, “that if he had really taken the stamps they would bring in enough money to clear him and that things would be all right for him.”
“But, after all, you don’t know that this red-headed man has anything to do with your half brother.”
“No, I don’t, but why else would anyone follow me like that? Why should this man care to know where I work? I don’t like it, Lil. I’m — frightened.”
They were still talking about it when the bell rang and Lil, after a startled look at Connie, got up to release the catch on the outer door. She held the apartment door ajar.
“Who is it?”
“Colin Emery.”
It wasn’t the careless young man about town who entered the apartment and greeted the two surprised girls. It was a very angry young man. He stood glowering down at Connie.
“What’s this I hear about you resigning today?”
“I got a better job,” she said quickly. “I’m working for Céleste, where Lil is. And a lot more money, Colin.”
“Don’t stall. Just how much did Steve have to do with you quitting your job, Connie? I want to know the truth. Everyone in the place knows you had a long talk in his office. Did he try to bring any pressure to bear?”
He mustn’t quarrel with his brother, Connie thought. That would only widen the breach between them, stiffen Steve’s determination to make Colin live according to his plans. She made herself laugh gaily.
“You’d be surprised,” she said. “We spent most of the time talking about an old friend of mine, a girl with whom I suspect your brother has fallen in love.”
Colin’s jaw dropped. “Steve? Iron-man Steve?”
Connie gave a soft ripple of laughter. “You see,” she confided, “I told him Sandra was having a pretty unpleasant time because her father runs her life for her, wants to decide whom she can marry, all that.”
Colin’s angry expression relaxed and he began to laugh. “Well, I’ll be darned. If you aren’t the one with the wily tricks.”
“Then,” Connie went on rapidly, trying to get over a dangerous subject as quickly, as lightly, as possible, “I swept haughtily out and —” As dramatically as possible she described her pursuit by the red-headed man. To Colin, of course, she made no reference to Nick, the stolen stamps, and Nick’s association with men who were probably gangsters.
“You say this guy followed you? That’s all?” Somewhat to the surprise of the two girls, Colin refused to take it seriously. “Heavens, gal, don’t you ever look in the mirror? He probably kept looking just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him in the first place.”
Colin dismissed the red-headed man and began, loudly and fulsomely, to admire his own handiwork on the chair. “What you two girls need is a man about the house,” he declared.
“All talk and no work,” Lil muttered. “The hot-water faucet in the kitchen is dripping away, driving us crazy. And what with the water shortage, it’s practically a crime as well as a nuisance.”
“Got an extra washer?” Colin took off his coat and a few moments later he was happily busy.
“Found an old catalog last night,” he remarked casually, “from one of those real estate agencies that specialize in farms. Some amazing bargains. Of course, this one was out of date but you can still pick up some nice property in Connecticut and New Jersey for a few thousand dollars.”
“It’s not the land,” Lil pointed out. “It’s buying good stock that takes the real money. And the way to do that —”
Lying back on the couch, Connie listened vaguely to their voices, their arguments, their laughter. Colin hadn’t taken the red-headed man seriously. She would try to forget the incident. There wasn’t, after all, anything the man could do to her. Nothing to be afraid of. Nothing at all.
When the faucet had been repaired, Colin looked at Connie, noticed the dark smudges under her eys, and reached for his coat and hat.
“I’ll be on my way and let you rest. Sure there’s nothing wrong about this new job of yours?”
Connie smiled reassuringly at him. “Not a thing,” she declared. “It’s going to be fabulous.”
While Lil accompanied Colin to the door, Connie went into her own room. She was brushing her hair, wearing a quilted satin robe of leaf green, her favorite color, when Lil stopped to say good night. The outside bell rang, three short rings, and the girls exchanged startled glances.
“I’ll go,” Lil said. She released the catch at the outer door but did not unlock the apartment door. “Who is it?” she called.
“Colin.”
She opened the door, looked at him in surprise. He was panting as though he had been running.
“What’s wrong?”
“Connie’s red-headed man,” he said. “He was waiting outside the building when I went out. I recognized him from her description. So I tackled him.”
“You what!”
“Oh, I just said, ‘What are you doing here? If I find you within ten blocks of this place again I’ll knock your head off.’ ”
Connie had come to the door of her bedroom now, clutching her robe around her, white-faced.
“Colin!”
“He took off like a jet plane. I chased him for half a block until he reached the subway stairs, and he shot down them as though someone had fired him out of a gun. I don’t think he’ll be back. Just the same, I shouldn’t have brushed off Connie’s story so lightly. I don’t like this, girls. In the morning I’ll be around with a new lock for your door and a safety chain. It can’t do any harm. Well, good night.”
Colin hesitated. “Look, this sounds melodramatic and all that, but watch your step, will you? Don’t let people in unless you know who they are. Don’t go off on dark streets by yourself. And don’t,” he grinned, “get led astray by any fake telephone calls.”
“Fake telephone calls?” Connie repeated in surprise.
“You know the kind. ‘A friend is in the hospital. Come quick.’ Or, ‘This is your long-lost uncle. Meet me at the Astor.’ Or, ‘This is Lawyer Jones. I have something of interest to tell you.’ ”
Connie began to laugh. “It sounds like a soap opera.”
Colin grinned. “Okay, but it might not be so hilariously funny. All I’m saying is, just make sure you know the setup is legitimate.”
He waved his hand and was gone. Lil shoved home the bolt. She turned soberly to Connie. “Now I begin to understand how you felt. I — guess I’m frightened, too.”
“Nothing is going to happen,” Connie said. “Why should it? We have no enemies. Nothing is going to happen.”
Fifteen
As a rule Jeff was an avid newspaper reader, but that morning he ignored headlines, war scares and politics, looking eagerly to see whether his advertisement had been printed. Copies of it had been sent to all New York dailies and to the stamp magazines.
There was no time to look at the rest of the paper. He had waited for his bank to open in order to retrieve the revolver from his safety-deposit box so that he could check the number and find out in whose name it was registered. So it was after eleven when he finally reached his office.
“Mr. Kent has called you several times,” his secretary told him, looking worried. “He sounded rather impatient. He asked me to inform him as soon as you came in.”
“Go ahead,” Jeff grinned at her. “And don’t look so alarmed. He won’t bite you.”
“That’s what you think,” she said darkly.
Jeff laughed, closed the door of his private office behind him, and began to look over his mail.
In a few minutes Kent came in, walking in the ponderous way that was so nearly a strut. It was customary for people to go to Kent. He had not entered Jeff’s office half a dozen times in as many years and Jeff was fully aware that the situation was unusual.
Kent waved Jeff back as he started to rise, and settled himself in the most comfortable chair.
“Tried to get you a couple of times.”
“I was late this morning. I wanted to get to the bank as soon as it opened.”
“Not running short of money, I hope.”
“You say you wanted me?” The question was gently put, but Jeff made clear that there was a no-trespassing sign on his private affairs.
“The Wilmot deal,” Kent said. “Haven’t you been sitting on your hands on that? Now is the time to put it over. We’ve got Wilmot in a bind. Put on the pressure now and he’ll sell out — he’ll have to — and at our price.”
Jeff found himself thinking that Kent’s approach was not so unlike that of gangsters. He had never thought that way before.
“I’ve got a lot of other jobs on my hands,” he began.
Kent nodded. “It occurred to me,” his voice was casual, “that you might have something on your mind, something worrying you.”
When Jeff made no reply, Kent went on with an attempt to be jovial that was out of character, “I can’t afford to have my most promising man slipping.”
“Have I been slipping lately?” Jeff’s tone was blunt. Kent must know how much work he had been handling. He had done the job of three men and they were equally aware of the fact.
Kent took his time lighting a cigar. “No, you are doing a fine job. On the whole.” When Jeff made no comment he went on, “Of course, you’ve had arrears of work to catch up on since you came back from Maine.”
“Everything is up to date now.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve wondered if — since you came back — there’s been something different about you. Not the same old zest.”
Kent waited again and finally said, “Alexandra has noticed it, too. She’s been worrying about you, Jeff.”
“That’s very nice of her, but quite unnecessary.”
“She’s afraid that Constance Wyndham may have asked you to shoulder some of her problems. That’s rather a habit with her, I understand from my daughter.”
Under the desk Jeff’s hand doubled into a fist but he managed to say evenly, “Is it? I have never noticed it myself. So far as I know, she has tried to carry her own weight very gallantly, and without any help, certainly with none from me.”
“Glad to hear it,” Kent said heartily. “Bill Wyndham was a fine man — not practical, but as honest as they come. And yet his children are — well, they are good people to stay away from.”
The telephone on Jeff’s desk rang and for once he welcomed that noisy interruption. All his control was needed not to lash out at Kent for his comments, his ugly insinuations about Connie.
“Mr. Gray? This is Morton.” The stamp dealer chuckled. “I think we’ve flushed your game for you. Before I left home this morning I had a telephone call for a Mr. Winterson. Fella says he has that twenty-four-cent airmail stamp and maybe he can lay his hands on some other inverted centers. He’ll meet you at a bar on Third Avenue. Just a minute, I took down the address. Here it is.”
Jeff reached for a pencil and jotted the address on his engagement pad. “That was quick work, Morton. But how am I supposed to recognize him?”
“He’ll be carrying a rolled up Daily News in the left-hand pocket of his overcoat and he’ll be sitting at the back of the bar. Twelve o’clock, he said. Doesn’t give you much time. I tried to reach you earlier.”
Jeff looked at his watch. “I’ll just be able to make it. Thanks a lot, Morton.” He set down the telephone and turned to Kent. “Sorry, sir, but I have an urgent appointment.”
Kent settled himself more firmly in his chair. “Not in any trouble, are you, Jeff? After all, I have a right to ask. I’ve given you a lot of responsibility here and I can’t afford any scandal attached to your name. This business — I couldn’t help overhearing — meeting an unknown man in a shady neighborhood — that’s not the way the Kent Enterprises do business.”
“This has nothing whatever to do with the Kent Enterprises.”
“Like that visit to your bank this morning?”
