As a call-girl deluxe, Jana Galen catered only to the choicest clients ... Like white-haired, red-faced, bleary-eyed Fred Briscoe, who required lots of special loving before he could recover the illusion of youthful virility ... Like the angry midget (in more ways than one) Bert Craven, who worked himself into a sexual storm by mouthing filthy obscenities, while the girl massaged his pimply body ... Like gaunt old Bobby from Wichita, who kept his shoes on in bed, insisted on getting his money's worth, and worked all night to get it ... Like handsome, young Otis King, who got his kicks by pummeling the backside of women he hired for pleasure....
Of course they-and others-paid well to have Jana indulge their sexual eccentricities....
CHAPTER ONE
Beppo Callente slithered down the Avenue, keeping close to the houses in order to avoid the broiling sun. His yellow rayon shirt clung moistly to his rib cage; he spat out the limp cigaret butt, undecided how to pass the time until four when he would meet Big Sam. He frowned down at his dusty shoes. He would put the bite on Sam for a twenty^-an advance on that coming up job.
Beppo was fastidious about his foot wear; all the big guys wore hand-sewn, fancy shoes-something to do with being a gentleman. And a guy on his way up had to take care of his appearance. He would wear the pin stripe for Big Sam, even if he'd sweat his ears off, he decided.
Now what was Jana doing, walking into Meltzer's department store? It was beyond limits for the likes of her. And for me too, he thought bitterly, accelerating his steps just to see her navy skirt swish about her nice legs as the door sucked her inside.
Something was out of line. He halted, staring through the plate-glass window, sticking his tongue out at the flaxen-haired mannequin. This was Jana's shopping time, and as during the past weeks Beppo had been laying in wait to get close to her. But Jana did her shopping at the corner grocery, that smelly, garlicky hole, and what she was doing in a department store he could not imagine. He frowned, undecided, knowing he should leave her alone and not bother. But something made him bother; whether he liked it or not, he was attracted to the kid who lived on his street, three blocks down from him. Somehow he felt responsible for her; he wanted her for himself, as his undisputed property. She was an investment to watch over and protect.
Against his better judgement, he walked into the revolving door, was spun around, landed inside. His brown eyes took in the vast floor with the various counters and mob of women jabbering, choosing, picking out dresses or drapes, having purchases wrapped. Where was Jana? Walking past the hat counter and the mountains of pocketbooks he saw her, black hair spilling down her shoulders, head bent low, peering at a display of wrist watches under glass. Her brown, bare legs gleamed like polished wood, half an inch of pink slip showed beneath the navy skirt. Her purse was clutched beneath her left arm. The blonde, fat sales lady was lifting out a tray of watches to be inspected by an elegant lady in black.
What good did it do for Jana to stare at those watches? She couldn't afford one, not even the cheapest, thought Beppo. She was up to something. The sales clerk took the watch selected by the customer and went off with it, while the lady was fiddling in her purse. Beppo stepped up close, about to speak to Jana, when he saw her casually drop her purse on the counter and open it. Beppo knew what was coming.
Fascinated, he watched as Jana's hand crawled toward the tray. Her brown fingers closed on the object of her choice-a gold-gleaming watch with matching band. Would she really have the nerve?
Nonchalantly, he turned around and surveyed the store. His bloodhound instinct spotted the hefty woman in black tromping down the aisle, her stern eyes boring into Jana's back. The store detective-there was no doubt in Beppo's mind-advanced on the watch counter, keeping Jana in focus.
Stupid kid, Beppo thought angrily. His arm reached out and his hand came down on Jana's. He shoved the girl's hand aside and picked up the watch, staring at the gleaming trinket as if fascinated by its beauty.
Jana had turned and was staring at him, her mouth opened to speak.
"Stupid, start making for the exit," he breathed. "Trouble coming." He pushed her, propelling her toward the door. Daintily and obviously, Beppo picked up the watch, held it in his left palm, inspecting the tiny dial.
The voice as he expected was leathery, without inflection. "Hand it over."
Beppo dropped the watch back on the tray, his impudent brown eyes on the blotchy face of the store detective. "Just looking," he sneered. "A guy can look, can't he?" With studied slowness he ambled off, the eyes boring holes into his shirt.
One block down the street Jana was waiting, pressed against the wall of a building; she was shaking and her face was pale.
"Let's move on. I'll buy you a cup of Java." He steered her by the elbow as they walked in silence around the corner and into Benny's, sitting at the counter.
Arms like sticks, and she's too lean. Cot hunger written all over. Those eyes of hers eat up everything, eat you up, he thought, itching to touch the petal-smooth cheek that seemed to curve inward, following the bone. He stared at the blue-inked vein at her temple. She isn't much now, but she's going to be a beauty. The thought made Beppo glow. He wanted her, all of her. As she half turned to look at him, he knew that he would have her-all of her.
"How-how did you know she was a detective?" Her voice was a whisper as she pushed a sheaf of dead-black hair out of her forehead.
"Because I'm not a dummy, I'm smart. You'd better keep clean, you don't know how to handle yourself ... Two coffees," he ordered. Then, looking at her thin arms, "and two dogs."
He watched the slow smile creep over her lean face, and smiled back. "I see you need some learning. And I'm gonna teach you."
Her face solemn, she nodded. They concentrated on their hot dogs and gulped down the coffee. He took it black, watched her put three heaping spoons of sugar into hers. She can use it, he thought, a protective feeling creeping into his heart. He tried to shake it off, she was just a poor dumb chick; but she was a chick he went for.
"Want to go to the Strand? Or do they expect you home?"
"Naw, don't matter. Mom's working late, and Pop's at Lucky Jones'."
"Don't your old man work?"
"He's been laid off. Construction work."
"You going to school?" As he frowned, his left eyebrow shot up.
"I'm through with school. Mom wants me to get a job in the Five-and-Ten, but I'm too young. So I'm helping with the housework. I hate it." Her wide lush lips bunched together, making him want to kiss her right then and there.
"Well, let's shove." He threw the change on the counter and watched her lean hips swing as she preceded him to the door.
The Strand movie house was a few blocks down; they walked briskly and in silence. Jana, barely reaching to his yellow shoulder, tried to guess his thoughts as she watched the lean profile, the sun lacquering the tight cap of his charcoal hair. Although she liked him more than ever before-hadn't he saved her from ruin?-he also frightened her. There was some mystery about him, about the way he lived and turned up at her corner, hardly talking, just carrying her groceries. She sensed that he felt work was beneath him, wondered how he spent his time, and with whom. His eyes were the most intense she'd ever seen, she liked the way his mouth curled up at the corners. She even liked his superior air, the way the limp cigarette dangled from his thin lips as if in contempt the whole world. She knew his name was Beppo Callente, and that he lived on her street. She wanted to know more about him-much more.
It's a stupid love story, decided Beppo, seeing Jana brush the tears off her cheeks. But watching the passionate embrace of the screen lovers, he seized Jana's rough, cool hand and kept it in his lap.
As the lights went on he released her hand, smiling contemptuously. "Sentimental slush. Life isn't like that at all."
Jana's wise old eyes looked at him. "No," she said. "But don't you wish it was?"
"What's the good of wishing?" He followed her down the aisle, once more strangely aroused by her pitifully lean frame.
On the way home, Jana grew worried. Her father might be home-which was bad. If he wasn't home-it was worse.
Beppo sensed her mood. "You scared? You get beaten?" He asked it matter-of-factly, recalling his own beatings which had only stopped recently, when he'd hit back at his father. Pop had been too shocked to react.
Jana shook her head. "He's scared of Maw. She's the one who feeds us," she added soberly. She had to ask, hoping it wouldn't get him mad. "Aren't you working? What are you doing on the street all the time?"
Beppo's lower lip curled. "Only dumbbells work. Me, I got connections." He was being mysterious. "Say, how about me taking you riding tomorrow? Think you can get away?"
"Riding?" she stopped, staring at him, thinking of horses.
"I mean in an automobile, stupid?"
"You got a car?" Her voice was hushed in awe. "My buddy has, and I can use it whenever I want."
Quickly Jana figured. Tomorrow was Sunday and her father would be sleeping off his Saturday night drunk, with her mother hovering over him. "I guess I can make it."
"Good." They stopped at the house ahead of her building. "It's a fire-red, open roadster. I'll be at your corner at twelve. And you better not stand me up." He pivoted on his heels and slithered down the street.
Jana walked into the dank hallway of the tenement. As always, it smelled of unwashed inhabitants, dirt, and cabbage. She climbed the two flights of stairs and let herself in, hoping to slip into her room unobserved. No such luck. Her hand on the door knob, she stiffened, hearing her mother's voice-a voice too tired even for anger.
"Did you get the onions, Jana?" Martha Galen's grey-streaked, untidy head appeared in the door, her mournful work-dulled grey eyes a mute reproach to any joy in living. And as Jana frowned, shaking her head.
"Well, for once I wanted to make the stew the way I like it. And you forgot. What else have you to forget about? You better get into the kitchen and start the chicken. Her mouth sagged and her whole face seemed to collapse. "From the way it looks, your father will hardly be in shape to eat any dinner."
Jana went into her dismal room, hardly bigger than a closet. She wanted to pack her things, leave this dismal house and her dismal begetters. Now, this very minute. She took off the navy dress and laid it on the bed, carefully going over the gauzy material, looking for stains. Thank Heaven, it was spotless. She hung it into the closet next to her old brown one, wondering how to embellish it for tomorrow.
She would filch that elegant red belt of pliant leather. Not filch, just borrow it for the day, hoping her mother wouldn't miss it. It belonged to a red silk creation her mother was altering for one of her few prosperous private customers. Tomorrow night, after underscoring her tiny waist line, the belt would be put back into her mother's imitation leather tote bag. So much fuss about a measly belt. Jana's lips bunched, her face took on a familiar sullen, brooding look. Not even a cheap pin, nor a string of pearls did she own. When she desperately needed something to impress Beppo as they rode around in that red roadster.
Beppo fascinated her, had fascinated her ever since she'd seen him for the first time-many months ago-slithering down the street, his narrow hips in the blue jeans moving like on oiled hinges. His long leanness and thin lips revealed to her his immense superiority, his contempt for his shabby surroundings. She had known, or rather sensed, right off that he was too good for this dismal neighborhood, destined for big things....
She slipped into her old robe, smiling to herself. Maybe-yes very possibly-he would take her away with him. She knew she would go whenever and wherever he asked. She was just waiting for the word. Hadn't he saved her from certain shame and ruin? It took guts to stare down a store detective.
Jana swirled her dark, silky hair into a high pyramid, fastening it with two combs, not wasting the time looking into the small mirror above her chest of drawers.
She opened her door listening for sounds of swearing; she never left her room without first listening for trouble signals. But all seemed quiet. She entered the kitchen, tore open the .single window looking out into an air shaft.
She was cutting up the chicken so she could fry it in the large pan, when her father's elephantine figure filled the door frame. His pinkish-mauve face registered an idiotic leer of delight. An open khaki shirt exposed black-sprouting knolls of hair on his chest. One enormous hand shot out, its bony fingers tightening on Jana's neck, and yanked her to him.
"Sweet Jerusalem, my big girl's frying up a storm." He giggled, the saliva trickling down the corners of his slack mouth, and patted the black pyramid of silky hair. "Leavin' your poor paw all by his-self. It ain't right."
Jana stood paralyzed, knowing that to move away would promote one of his rages. Her eyes full of hate, she smiled. "Maw told me you were resting." Her voice was sweet and she lowered her lids, not wanting him to see the hate.
He cackled, and a look of cunning crept into the glazed, red-rimmed pale eyes. "I just told her so, didn't want to be bothered with the old woman. She makes me sick, playing God." His arm sneaked about Jana's waist; his whiskied breath made her want to throw up. "But you're the apple of my eyes, girl. Got a kiss for your old Paw?"
He didn't wait, his foul mouth coming down on. hers. "You and me, girl, we're going to leave here. And soon."
Jana struggled loose, weary of the same old story. How could her mother stand the poor slob? Even kowtow to him, tremble forever in awe of his unpredictable moods.
"Whazza matter, not good enough for you? I'll teach you respect." Enraged by her aloofness, he slapped her cheek, making her cry out.
Her mother burst into the kichen. One look told her what had happened-Jana holding her reddened cheek and John glowering at the girl, his face almost blue.
"Leave her be, John; excitement's bad for your heart. Doc Bodner told you. Get into the bedroom and rest till supper's ready."
Without a word or look for Jana, she led the hulking colossus into the adjacent room, leaving the girl to her smoldering fury.
CHAPTER TWO
Beppo crossed to the other side of the street, fixing the entrance of the little fruit and greenery store with squinted eyes. He saw his old man come out on the sidewalk, wipe his hands on the dirty apron, and shift the pyramid of tomatoes slightly to the right. Even from across the street Beppo could make out the over-sized head with the mat of yellow-white hair. He looked at his nickel-plated wrist watch, decided there was time to go home and change into his pin-stripe before his father got home.
He entered the house, sniffing the stale odors, rushed up the two flights of stairs and let himself in. There was no time for a shower. Stripping quickly, he put on a pair of un-ironed blue shorts, wiped his dusty shoes furiously with the discarded underwear. From the scratched surface of the three-drawer desk he picked up the half-filled bottle of vinegary cologne, sprinkled some on his palm, rubbed his arms and neck with the acrid lotion. He slipped into his best blue shirt and the knife-sharp creased pants. A powder-blue tie, his most expensive one, went nicely with it. He worked his hair over, flattening it with Vitalis and then combing it straight back. The padded shoulders were almost too much, he thought, grinning at himself in the door mirror, grateful to the former tenant who had left it behind.
He frowned; something else to do. Passing into the dark cave of the bathroom, without switching on the single bulb he found the cake of soap and scrubbed his hands. Back in his room he cleaned his nails carefully. Big Sam was a stickler for certain niceties. He frowned into his gaping wallet, which contained two single dollar bills. Some loose change jingled in his pocket.
Maybe I'm lucky, and the old man left some money around, he thought. He opened all the drawers, looked under the blotter. Nothing. Whistling softly, he recalled how mad his father got when that twenty spot had been missing. He didn't even ask; he knew at once, and boxed Beppo's ears.
"Reform school taught you nothing, you bum. You know where you'll end-in jail. And don't come into the store; every time you set foot in there, something's missing."
Well, I don't have to fool around with the small stuff now, he thought, closing and locking the door. Big Sam needs me, so he 'll shell out-
He was late. Good thing the beer joint was only a few blocks away. Anyway it was good to make Sam wait, showed him that Beppo was independent. Sprinting across the street, he decided not to leave without money; he needed it for tomorrow. He wanted to play it big, dazzle Jana, buy her a decent meal. And then....
He's as ugly as they come, thought Beppo once again, crossing the smelly bar with three long strides and halting at the last booth where Sam was fiddling with his empty glass.
"It's about time. I don't like my associates to be late." Sam pushed out a bluish, pendulous lower lip. His small eyes, closely set together in the ball-shaped head, blinked, His hammy left hand combed his thick, grizzly hair.
"Sorry Sam, it couldn't be helped. I had to wait till my old man was out of sight," Beppo lied easily, noticing the brand-new chocolate-colored suit with the hand-finished lapels. He sat down across from Sam. "New suit? Looks expensive."
"Set me back a century and a half," Sam almost smiled, his loose lips quivering. "Let's get down to business. Monday night, at exactly one a.m., you back the truck into the alley. Jocko and me will hop in with the stuff. You keep that engine running. Understand?"
Beppo sighed. "We've rehearsed it often enough. I wish I had a decent time piece." He frowned down at the five dollar watch.
"Day after tomorrow you can buy yourself a gold watch." He lowered his eyes with his voice, "The ammo'll be in the glove compartment. Just in case ... Not to be used unless absolutely necessary," he stressed. "This one's a smoothie, with old man Wallace at the other end of town visiting his in-laws. The cop on that beat has to cover a lot of territory." He looked up, his eyes sharp pin points. "In case we don't show at seven after one, you drive off. You know where to dump the truck."
Beppo nodded. He had cased the alley, its entrance and exit. He foresaw no hitch.
"Scared?" asked Sam, lighting one of his smelly cigars and puffing with relish.
"This isn't my first job," said Beppo nonchalantly. "And even that first time, driving off with mink coats from Grubnik's, I wasn't flustered," he reminded Sam proudly.
The big face radiated benevolence. "You did okay, Jocko said." This was high praise from Jocko, who belched acid with each word. "We'd better get going. You first," he ordered.
"How about letting me have a twenty?" Beppo said quickly. "I need it bad.
"You always need it bad. What for this time? That suit's okay."
"I need it tomorrow. Taking a chick for a ride."
Grinning broadly, Big Sam produced a twenty, pressed it into Beppo's palm. "Broads cost money. Though a young buck like you should get his for free."
"I'll get that tor free," said Beppo, stuffing the bill into his pocket. "But a gent has to buy a few drinks
-entertaining expense. Thanks, Sam. See you Monday." He walked nonchalantly past the deserted bar stools, out into the street. Six blocks down, at the filling station, he waited while Al serviced a Buick. Five minutes later he walked away, the keys to Al's roadster in his pocket. He had promised Al a five spot, to be paid on Tuesday.
If there is a Tuesday for me v. . The thought appalled him. That was crazy, of course everything would click. And on Tuesday his wallet would bulge. He decided to go home for dinner. No use wasting money; the old man was a pretty fair cook, there was enough for two.
"Eat and sleep, that's all you ever do," rumbled his father's voice from the kitchen. Beppo decided to act nice and entered the steamy place, stuffing the spicy aroma. His store apron tight over his belly, his father was stirring the goulash in the huge pot. He turned, wiping his hands on the not-too-clean dish towel. His eyes, brown like Beppo's, but smaller and imbedded in wrinkly pockets, were friendly. "You're just in time. Get out the silverware and plates."
Beppo set the table, then held out two plates for his father to dish out the stew. "How about some beer?" He got two bottles from the refrigerator and Beppo opened them, pouring slowly into the tilted glasses, getting the head just right.
"Cheers," said the old man. Beppo nodded, barely moistening his lips. He didn't especially like beer; not enough kick. "Well, start eating."
Like two wolves they fell to, elbows on the plastic cloth, eating big forkfuls and not wasting time in talk. Each had a second helping, and Beppo. finished his beer with relish. He sighed. "You could be a chef at the Ritz, Pop."
"I like to mess with food. Besides, I get my meat cheap from Berger's. Old man Berger buys all his vegetables from us ... I could get you a job with Berger. It's one of the best eating joints around here." He gazed hopefully at his son.
"Table hopping?" sneered Beppo. "Not this boy. I'm aiming for bigger stuff."
"Yea, that big stuff. You know where it will land you."
Beppo jumped up. "Don't start that again. I thought we would have a peaceful evening."
"All right, I'll shut up." As Beppo dried the dishes, his father said: "What you need is a nice girl who'll make a decent man out of you."
"In that case you should be glad. I got a date with a nice chick. Tomorrow."
"Good. Who is she? Where did you-'"
"She's okay. From around here, that's all I'm telling. I'm not going to marry her. All I want is to lay her," he said. The old man shook his big head.
"Such language! If she's a nice girl you can't expect-"
"She is a nice girl, and I intend to lay her," stated Beppo, putting away the dishes. "And I don't want to hear how you courted Maw." Picking up the evening paper he sat down in the rocker, leaving the leather arm chair for the old man.
"Say, Beppo, I got a letter from your aunt Emma in Philadelphia. Irving-your uncle Irving, that is-has been promoted. Nice to have a police lieutenant in the family." He was slumped in the black arm chair, settling the steel-rimmed glasses on his hawk nose to peruse the letter for the fifth time. "Want me to read it to you?"
Beppo remained behind the pages of his paper. "Naw, you already told me the news. So he's a higher-paid cop." He thought about his uncle Irving, a six-feet-three giant with the brand-red hair. Strange as it was, Beppo liked the guy; that is, he would really have liked him, if he weren't a cop.
"Your uncle put in a note. He says, 'If Beppo has not decided on a career, tell him I could get him on the force'."
There was only a grunt from behind the paper. The old man got up and put the letter away with others in the left-hand drawer of the desk. "Think it over, Beppo; you could get somewhere, with your uncle Irving behind you."
"I don't need no sponsor," snapped Beppo, thinking: I got a sponsor, Rig Sam; him and me, we hate police lieutenants. But he didn't say a word.
Half an hour later he was in his bed, the blanket up to his ears, thinking about climbing into bed with Jana at the Newport hotel. It was an exciting thought.
He speculated about her small breasts, sure he could cover each one with his hand....
If the dinner wasn't too expensive, he might even buy her some junk beads. But that wouldn't be necessary; she liked him well enough not to expect any present. On that comforting thought he fell asleep.
CHAPTER THREE
Beppo locked the door of the room in the Newport Hotel. Al had recommended it; it must be worth the five bucks he had plunked down at the desk. And no questions asked. As he turned, his eyes met Jana's huge, moistly-imploring ones.
"You look really pretty, Jana." The two steps to her seemed the most exciting ones in his life.
Her hands flattened the gauzy stuff of the blue skirt, and her fingers rubbed the soft leather of the red belt. It gave her courage, was palpable proof of this new life opening up for her. She met Beppo's eyes and did not lower her lids; she wanted him to know she was ready for him. All of him.
As his arms closed about her frailty she shivered, knowing there would be no other moment in her life equal to this one. Her hands lifted to touch his smooth hair lightly. She was burning with a love, felt the flame licking at her heart, was ready to be consumed by it.
With deliberate slowness he moved his mouth over her lips as if testing their resilience, while his hands felt her firm youngness beneath the gauze. Eyes closed, she sucked in his kiss, holding it, kissing back, her knees weak. There was nothing in the world but his tall lankiness, the rapacious eyes scorching her soul.
"I can feel your heart, it beats so fast." Breathless, she detached herself so she could look at every inch of him. To remember always, forever and ever.
Full of a nervous anticipation, Beppo wanted to have her now, this very instant; but he knew he had to take it slow. "Honey, I've wanted you so bad." His fingers loosened her hair, played with the silky strands. He lifted her chin, bringing her face close to his.
"Your eyes are like a mirror, a black one." His laughter came out harsh, unfinished. "I watch you walking down our street and I go crazy ... crazy with wanting you." Again he kissed her, hard this time, crushing his mouth against her soft, pulpy lips. "You're too thin, honey," he said.
She laughed in quick excitement. "I never ate such a rich dinner. Lobster, and that heavenly dessert." She frowned. "You spent all that money on me. Where did you get it, Beppo?"
"Oh, I have friends." He wanted to change the subject, but he must appear important. "Got a big deal coming up, honey. Maybe we'll go to Atlantic City over a weekend. Would you like that?"
She nodded. "It sounds like some dream. But Beppo, where are you going to get all that money? You aren't-"
He stopped her questions with his lips, then drew away. "Now Jana; once and for all, I don't want to be questioned. If I feel like telling you, I will. Get that?"
His face looked dark and dangerous, his left eyebrow shot way up. He appeared older, almost remote to Jana. He must stay close, be with her all the way.
"Whatever you say, Beppo." She kissed his ear lobe and again his arms sheltered her. Her head buried in his shoulder, feeling, smelling, wanting him with an ache deep down that tore at her roots, she yearned to tell him that whatever he did or didn't do was all right with her.
He stepped up to the window and drew the shade. Then he turned and took off his coat. "Here," he handed it to her, "you hang it up, squaw." He pointed to the open closet, watching her thin legs. I wish she wore nylons, he thought. Which brought back Gertie Miller.
Gertie was a cheap beer joint tramp, easy to pick up and just as easy to discard. He recalled how her big white floppy breasts had injected fire into his blood. A lousy, fat-bellied whore, but a wise one; she had worn black garters, and her fat calves felt sleek in the nylons. Gertie had been his ninth woman. Beppo kept mental score of his lays; comparing them excited him.
He watched Jana wander about the shabby room, picking up a green ash tray, putting it back on the wobbly end table. She peered into the bathroom, turned back to him all excited.
"They got a shower in there, besides the tub. And big towels."
He slapped her little behind. "Yea, and we'll take a shower together." His laughter was high-pitched. He took her by the hand and led her to the bed. A red and white striped spread covered lumpy pillows. They stared at each other. Her face was withdrawn, solemn. She's just a kid, he thought, all bones, hardly any bumps. What do I want with her? "Ever been-with a man, Jana?" It was a silly question; he knew the answer.
She stared at the window, shaking her dark head. "You're the one I want, Beppo. You and me. Say it, say it's always going to be you and me." Her beseeching eyes made him feel like a louse.
"You know how I feel about you, Jana." He kissed her with ardor, her cheeks, her ears, and that thin stalk of neck; his hands fondled the tiny breasts, hard as stone. "Take it all off, lemme see you." He sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes burning her skin.
She unzipped the dress and slipped it over her head, draping it over the back of the once-green couch. Pale smooth skin, just a white half-slip. Two tiny hillocks with rosy tips. Like a child. Her hands fiddled with the elastic at her midriff, and the slip slithered to the rug. She bent awkwardly, picked it up and placed it carefully on top of the dress. White chaste panties, no lace. And those painfully thin thighs. But her legs were wonderfully straight and that dark bush of hair-a burning bush, Beppo thought....
He walked up to her, his palms traveled down her smooth body. As his hands closed over those childish breasts she trembled. Again he took her in his arms, his lips on her mouth, his hands exploring her back, testing the slim-curved buttocks, his finger tips digging in.
"You're beautiful, Jana." He wanted to carry her to the bed, as he'd seen them do in the movies, but decided that was ridiculous. "You go lie down while I take my things off." It was an order, and she obeyed, first taking off the spread. She sat watching, big-eyed, paralyzed with concentration, as he stripped and dropped his clothes on the floor.
He's a black flower; no, a wild swan. Tall and narrow. The black hair on(r) his chest fascinated her. The blood rushed to her face; she wanted to look away, not there ... She was suddenly afraid. She had never seen a man before. Now she saw and was fearful, felt like running away, at the same time was glad it was too late. She had chosen him to be her first and only. Never another.
"What you staring at?" He chuckled. "You like me?"
She nodded; words would not come. Then came the sobering thought that he was the hateful enemy, the intruder who would destroy her. Before giving up the ghost, her virginity pleaded: Be adored from afar, remain a mystery. But the fire in his eyes burned through her defenses.
He lay down close to her and let his hand trickle down her front. "Your skin's soft, like-like cream...." He kissed those delicate breasts, his hand forced her legs apart.
He was on top of her now, and the mattress seemed to be sinking. His kisses, hard and cruel, were hurtful; but as she put her arms about him and smelled his hair, his man-smell, slow excitement seeped through her, allaying her fear.
He wanted to say "I'll be careful, don't be afraid"; but he couldn't bring himself to talk. Her eyes were full of fear, childish fear. She was a child; he, Beppo, was making her a woman. The thought drove him into action. His hands pressed the bony shoulders into the pillow and he took her brutally, ignoring her outcry, lacerating her virginal flesh.
"Like it, baby? Like me?" Not caring whether she did, he moved in an animal frenzy until the world exploded ... Then he lay like dead.
Jana, sore and faint, felt the tears on her cheeks. She didn't move, the deep ache of her love mingling with her pain. I'm a woman, she thought, his woman! But she didn't feel any joy, just disappointment that this was all there was to it. For one short moment she wished she had never gone with him to this hotel. But this was the way to hold a man. And hold him she must!
As he left her to go to the bathroom, she saw the red petals of blood on the sheet, knew that nothing would again be as it had been before.
He emerged, with a cigarette in his mouth, and a conquering, cocky smile. "Don't look so gloomy, puss. The first time always hurts a little." He dropped the cigarette into the ash tray.
Stretching out on the bed, his arms opened to her. Her head on his chest and his hands in her hair, she was quivering with happiness. She raised her head, her eyes gleaming. "Now I'm your woman, Beppo. Was I-was it good, Beppo?"
"Baby, you're wonderful." He laughed and kissed her all over, getting himself in the mood again. He gazed at the thin face and the dark eyes, hollowed now, and felt proud of himself. His first virgin! Al would not believe him. The thought was exciting. His hands plucked at her breasts.
He took his time and was gentle, watching her face, wanting her to go along with him step by step. He saw her taut features soften, felt her quiver and dissolve. And only when her wide eyes signaled that she was on the very edge of ecstasy did he lead her across the abyss of wanting to the remote bank of fulfillment....
Half an hour later they were driving back. She stared at his dark, impassive face and started to worry. She had taken no precautions. Well, no matter; he was her man, he wouldn't let her down.
"Enjoy being with me, baby?" he asked, his eyes on the road.
"It was-a wonderful day," she breathed. "Only, too short. It will be awful without you, Beppo."
"I'm not going anywhere, silly. Got a big day tomorrow. Maybe we can go to Atlantic City next weekend."
Jana started speculating what to tell them at home about staying overnight. But even if they threw her out, what did she care? She had Beppo.
At the corner of her street he stopped the car, and she got out. "When will I see you again, Beppo?--Her face and voice was anxious. She looked lost.
"I'm always around. You'll see me. So long."
She watched as the car streaked down the avenue, feeling like nothing. He was gone. Maybe for good. But she would find him, even if she had to walk to the end of time. She felt worn, sore, but elated. She was a woman! Anna, who was three years older and had a steady, must be told. Anna, so wise, would be a comfort.
She walked into the house, rushed up the stairs and stood at her door all out of breath, trying to bring order into her wildly tumbling thoughts. She took out her compact and looked at her face. Nothing showed. Turning the key, she opened the door and heard her mother's plaintive voice.
"What's the idea coming home so late? Your Paw's mad...."
CHAPTER FOUR
Why aren't you wearing that red dress I bought you? Blue looks dull on you." Beppo's left eyebrow was up, his cool eyes brushed over Jana's face. It looked more peaked than ever to him.
Beppo was in a black mood; he'd barely made it, and dumped the truck. Big Sam and Jocko hadn't pulled it off; somehow, the cops were on the prowl. And the fifty Big Sam had forked out were almost gone. He hoped Jana wouldn't squawk about not going to Atlantic City. He had other worries.
"Well, Maw was home and I didn't want her to see it." She stared over his oiled head at the row of empty tables in the dingy place. Why was it that she couldn't please, him, when she tried so hard? Her eyes were filled with tears, she didn't want him to see.
"No matter," his voice softened. "I can't take you out to any decent place anyhow. Things didn't work out."
She looked into his somber eyes. "Perhaps if you had a steady job, you'd be more satisfied." What she really wanted to say was, you'd be easier to be with. This was their sixth date, and she knew he didn't have any place to take her. She didn't allow the thought that he really didn't want to be alone with her. It was a week now since they'd made love and Jana wanted him badly. She felt only half alive when she-didn't see him; and of late he hadn't been waiting for her at the corner. She really felt desperate, afraid he was slipping away from her.
"Look, I'm not a nine-to-five guy. I got a big appetite for life and I'm going to get myself a nice chunk of it. For that, I need dough-which I don't happen to have now. But give me time...."
"I don't care about money," she said. "When I have you, I can do without the extras. Life could be good for us."
"Yea? Life in the slums-what's good about that?" He stared in mounting fury at the large hole he had burned in his pants. It was the last straw.
"Poverty, what's good about that? Look at my old man, working his head off in the fruit store. A stupe, getting nowhere, never. An honest sap...."
The words tumbled out as his dark eyes centered on her peaked face. "Lemme give it to you the way I feel. There are two things in this world, good and evil. For people like us, it's evil we have to use to get what we want."
Jana drank in his words, never to forget them. She could almost taste it-evil. She thought about it. "I guess you're right, Beppo. So what do we do?" She looked at him, willing to do his bidding.
He replied in a listless voice: " We can do nothing, together. But separately we must figure our way out and up."
Jana stared at him, a sinking feeling in her heart. Separately ... There was no 'we' in the future. She was lost. "I-I thought I was your girl, Beppo. Don't you want me any more?" Her lower lip trembled, she tried hard not to cry.
No use kidding her along, he thought. He had got what he wanted, and enjoyed it. Now she wearied him; her mournful eyes were a mute reproach. Jana was really not his type, he had decided a week ago when Al had introduced him to the blonde. Angie who was more to his taste, full of life, with bouncing breasts and exciting possibilities.
"Sure, I like you a lot, Jana. But what's the use kidding you? We can't afford to get hitched. I know that's what you want. And I'm not a type of guy to go steady. If you start blubbering I'm going to leave," he threatened, seeing the tears gather in those enormous sad eyes.
Jana swallowed hard. "Okay Beppo, don't get mad. Let's go sit in the park a while, it's nice and quiet tliere."
"Who wants to sit in a lousy park? Nothing but old maids and perambulator-pushing women. Not me. You'd better head for home; I gotta see a friend."
He got up, paid the check and left the place without waiting for her, not expecting nor wanting her to follow.
Jana was more bewildered than hurt by his abrupt departure. Leaving the restaurant she looked up and down the street, but he had vanished; the street had swallowed him up. Oh, how she hated that unfathomable street with its untold possibilities and temptations for Beppo.
She walked along, ended up on a park bench, staring at the green filigree branches of a tree, not feeling anything but a gaping emptiness. They would meet, it was unavoidable; but never-she knew this for certain-never would she be alone with him again, hold his leanness in her arms, kiss those angry eyes.
Ugly reality replaced her dreams. She had loved Beppo, she always would; sometime, in some vague future, she saw him by her side. No other man would take his. place. This was all the love she had to give. Now she had to redirect her life.
About one thing, Beppo was right: there were good and evil. And her way of getting where and what she wanted would be a way of evil. Never again would she allow sentiment to interfere with her plans.
She left the park, a wiser girl who had no time for sadness. She would be too busy fashioning her future into a glittering, golden bauble.
At home, she had a serious talk with her mother. "I'm wasting my time just hanging around here."
She watched the gired woman hemming a black lace gown. "I think I can get a job modeling."
Her mother's eyes were frightened. "Modeling? That's not work. Those models carry on with men...."
"So what? Girls were made for men," affirmed Jana. "Anna might get me in at Robler's-they're wholesale dress people. She's making a nice salary. I'm a size ten and they're always short of size ten."
Her mother shrugged. "You're too young, nothing good will come of it. But I don't blame you for wanting to make money. Your Paw won't like it, that much I know."
"What right has he got to object? You're feeding him," said Jana brutally as she went into her room to put on the red dress. She would go straight to Robler's; Anna would introduce her to the boss.
The signs and names in the directory of the Seventh Avenue building baffled her. But finally she was riding up to the eighth floor, feeling encouraged by the admiring stare of two shabby young men sharing the elevator. Her hair waved glossily to her shoulders, she had accented her mouth with a new, bright-red lipstick. Her heart thumped as she walked down the dingy corridor, studying the names on the various doors. It was the last door to the left, a steel door with Robler & Sons painted in black letters on its smooth surface.
She was about to knock when the door opened and a pimply-faced youth shot out carrying a huge paper-wrapped bundle almost as big as he was. She slid inside and stood there, surveying the long narrow room cluttered up by a large table heaped with fashion magazines. A triple mirror reflected her tiny form. On a couch some unfinished coats were heaped.
Loud, angry voices came from the next room. Should she knock on the door, to make her presence known? And where was Anna? She stared down at the black patent pumps on which most of her money ' had been spent; they gave her confidence. She would lie about her age.
No matter how, she must land that job; it would be a start. She was wide open to any propositions that would come her way, would play all angles to forge ahead and get away from her dismal home. She walked over to the table to inspect the girl in the blue sheath gracing a magazine cover.
"Yes, what is it?" asked an impatient voice.
Jana looked up into the bulging eyes of a short bald-headed man in shirtsleeves, knowing she was in the presence of Allis Robler. Anna had described him as a bull frog with an angry voice.
Jana smiled prettdy, cocking her head to make the black waves of her hair dance. "I'm Jana Galen, Anna's friend. She works for you. She said you could use a size ten model. I'm size ten." Jana stretched, throwing back her shoulders, hoping her bust would show.
"Hm," Robler frowned and squinted. "You look a bit young. Let's see you walk." She pirouetted slowly, as Anna had instructed her, shoulders, back, midriff thrown slightly forward. Moving down the room, she turned and came toward him, her dark eyes eager.
"Nice little figure. Trim. Ever worked before?"
Jana was briefed for this one. "Just in private charity showings. Coats mostly."
Robler pursed his lips, looking like a pensive pig. "We can't pay much. Hours are nine to five, starting salary-forty five." Prepared to raise it another five, he was surprised at her quick assent.
"That suits me for a start, Mr. Robler. When do you want me to start? I could stay now," she offered.
He smiled; he liked eager beavers, and this one was the cutest little beaver ever. "Sit down, I want you to model a new number." He disappeared into the work room, came back with a fitted maroon coat which had a brown border of fur running down its front.
She put it on, inspecting herself before the mirror. It had broad shoulders and a fitted waist line. The brown fur-it must be mink-framed her chin. Slowly she turned and walked about the room.
"One of our fall numbers. A perfect fit. You can take it off now."
Carefully she took the coat off and delivered it into his fat hands, standing at attention, her eyes anxious with expectancy.
He laughed. "Relax, you got the job. Be here tomorrow at nine. Better bring some identification." He was half into the other room. "Oh, I'll send Anna out; it's almost five now."
Jana felt like dancing and shouting. She'd made it. And all that lovely money-
"I hear we got a new model." Anna came in, her purse dangling on her left arm, a broad smile on her face. "Boss seems to like you. And if he likes you, you got it made. Come on, let's celebrate. My treat."
They ate chicken a la king at Schrafft's. Jana was too excited to enjoy her dinner. She cast admiring glances at her friend, elegant in her well-tailored black suit and dashing feather beret. Jana decided that she too would use eye shadow.
"Go ahead, eat; a few more pounds won't matter, you'll be a size ten. Say, does your mother know about the job?" Anna's grey eyes looked soberly at the dark, pretty face. "You ought to wear some kind of a hat. No use spending money, I've got just the thing-a maroon beret. I'll bring it to work tomorrow."
"You're a swell friend, Anna. Yea, I just told Maw that I was getting a job. And if they don't like it, I'll get myself a room. I want to live my own life."
"You're starting out young."
"But not entirely inexperienced. Beppo taught me plenty."
"He's a gutter-bred louse, Jana, not for the likes of you. He'll end up bad."
Jana didn't want to think about Beppo. "Mr. Robler acted real nice. You said he was mean."
"That was no lie. He's a slave-driver, but he pays better than most. Be careful; if he asks for favors, and doesn't get them, he can be poison. I know!"
"He must have plenty of dough," said Jana. "Does he part with any of it-I mean* to his girl friend?"
"Girl friends, you mean," giggled Anna. "He likes them young. And you are young. That's all I can tell you. I never could apply, I'm too big for his taste. But I advise you to go slow. Plenty of buyers from out of town-Dallas especially is good-will ask you out. Yea, you'll have to get yourself a place. Your folks won't stand for these late hours."
Jana already had decided on that. She intended to cut loose completely, move away from the crummy neighborhood no matter what else she had to do. She was willing to go the limit. But no man would use her ever again; and when the affair ended, she would carry off the loot....
CHAPTER FIVE
"SAY, ALLIE, WHAT'S WITH THAT cute piece of jail-bait modeling number eight, 'Dolly'? Is she available?"
Tom Bradden's sharp features were glossed over by his faint smile. With an elegant sweep that showed off a large diamond, his hand moved up to smooth his silver-grey hair. Under the threatening black wings of his brows, the eyes were a star ding deep blue.
Allis Robler took his time answering, enjoying the chance to keep that inveterate women chaser in the dark. He weighed his answer carefully, for Tom Bradden was serious competition in a field where Robler was somewhat less successful, namely women. Tom Bradden, of Dallas Coats, was his best customer; and this trip he had really out-bought himself. Robler wondered how he was going to get rid of six dozen of that 'Dolly' number. And all because he'd gotten that little minx. Jana to show it. She sure had what it took to get a man hot and bothered.
"Well, Tom, it's hard to say. She's quite young, but wise to what a man wants." He tittered, and his belly wiggled. "She's been with us for over a year now; and when she's showing it, any old model sells. I've raised her salary twice, and she's asking for more. Not that she depends on what she earns here, I keep her supplied with the few extras. Yes, she has taking ways, our Jana!"
Tom Bradden knew when not to horn in. Pensively he sipped his Martini. "You lucky dog, she's an intriguing nymph. Well, got to find myself another playmate. Just let me know when she's available." They looked at each other and laughed.
During the' twelve years of their business association Robler had passed on eight of his girl friends to Tom Bradden, who in turn delivered them into the hands of O'Malley, a brick-haired designer of ladies' blouses. What became of the girls after O'Malley wearied of their favors they did not know, nor care.
"You know Tom, I can't figure that kid out. She's not eighteen yet, and she's hard as iron. Oh, she plays hot in bed, but it's all a fake. She rolls those smoldering eyes and puffs out her mouth, making you slobber with passion. She goes through all the motions, gives you whatever she thinks you want, then at just the right moment makes a bid for what she wants. First time, I remember, it was a fur coat.
She waited two months, then asked for the apartment. Not any old place, mind you, it had to be Sutton Place."
"Take heart, friend," chuckled Bradden, "her address is still Sutton Place; so she hasn't asked you to buy her a farm yet."
"How come you know her address?" Allis stared accusingly at Tom, who laughed.
"Oh, I took her bosom friend Anna out to dinner."
"Maybe your next trip to town she'll be available, Tom. It will probably cost me a pretty penny to cut off our pleasant relationship."
Jana was having lunch at Andre's Chalet, off Madison. She glanced soberly at her host, whose youthful good looks did not interest her, but he was paying for her luncheon, and she liked the atmosphere of subdued elegance, enjoyed the proximity of the society dames who filled the place, wearing costly furs and coats Robler did not sell.
"You're a strange one, Jana." Leo Graft looked at her as he looked at any piece of jewelry before he bought it for Hans Klein, Inc.: soberly, with a critical eye for market value. He'd found her flawless, was bidding for her favors. "Why all the secrecy about this lunch? I can't rape you here; Andre wouldn't like it. What's on your shrewd little mind? I'd like to flatter myself that you want to know me better, but...."
"You're so right, Leo." She smiled into his flat green eyes. "Oh, I do like you, but I also know that you're a smart operator. That's why I want to make a deal with you, one that will be profitable for both of us."
Leo grew worried. He was a poor loser, and he always lost in deals with dames. "What kind of a deal? The only kind of deal I want to make with you doesn't seem to attract you." He scanned her face, but it remained aloof. "I can give you as much as Robler does."
"Aren't you presuming? Mr. Robler is my boss, and a good friend. I intend to leave things as they are. For the present at least. But I'll put you on my waiting list."
"I'm afraid I'm not the patient type, Jana. Now, let's have it; what is it you want? I'm sure it isn't me."
"Well, I'm going to have a birthday pretty soon. And Allis-Mr. Robler, that is-won't refuse me the pearls I crave. I don't mean junk, but real Oriental pearls. They are expensive, right?"
"Correct." Leo was interested.
"You'll make a nice commission on a sale. So if I rave about a certain string of pearls you showed me, he'll buy me the pearls from you and we'll split the commission." Her black eyes looked at him trustingly.
Leo shook his head admiringly and burst into laughter. "You should work for us, Jana. It's not my usual way of conducting business, but in this case I'll make an exception. Of course if you're dreaming about thousands, you're making a mistake. Three to five hundred is all you'll get on the deal."
"Every hundred helps." Jana giggled and patted his bony hand. "You're a nice man, Leo; sometime I'll have time for you."
"Make it soon."
Jana squinted and her full lips bunched together, making Leo wanting her more than ever. Which was as she wanted it. In a quick all-over glance she took in his well-groomed appearance, the smooth ash-blond hair and sensitive face; of course his well-tailored suit with the padded shoulders could be misleading, hiding all kinds of defects. He was in his thirties, astute and utterly correct. Yes, he was going places. In fact, he wasn't doing bad right now. She stared at his thin-lipped mouth. Most likely he was sadistic. Well, she could handle him, no matter what.
"What's the verdict?" His laughter rolled out easily but his eyes remained shrewd. He thought he had her number. He knew how to take care of his women; and this one-though hard as nails and without a shread of sentiment-would be less enervating than Juanita, who made scenes and trampled on her mink coat whenever he chose to spend a weekend without her. This girl looked like a Neapolitan street urchin, lean and starved; but she intrigued him, for in her immature charms he sensed tremendous potentialities
"You know Jana, you surprise me. You're all head, and no heart. You haven't had time to gather that much experience."
"For a smart girl, one experience is enough. It's a matter oi choosing what comes first for you, then going after it. Isn't that what's made you successful, Leo?"
"It is; but at your age, I didn't know it."
"The sooner one dispenses with unnecessary emotion, the quicker one gets there." Jana had only recently added the word 'dispense' to her vocabulary; she was studying the book A Way With Words, recommended to her by Irma, the size fourteen who was trying to improve herself by taking speech lessons.
Leo's eyes were steely. Exactly where do you want to get, Jana? It interests me in a purely psychological sort of way. Money alone won't do the happiness trick. A girl, no matter how hard, is soft at times with a special someone. That's how pimps stay in business."
"Going soft means losing your head. Me, I'm going to keep mine. Money conies first with me Till I have enough to look for something else." Her dark eyes looked at Leo squarely.
"Well, I wish you luck. When is that birthday coming up, Jana?"
She lowered her lids. "October 3rd," she said, figuring that would give her two months more with Robler. That was about all she could stand of him "And, if that split commission is five hundred or more you can bring it to my apartment, Leo." She gave him a look of warm promise, and a snide.
"Now I better get back. With that Mr. Bradden from Dallas in town, I'll have to do a Houdini modeling."
She said goodbye to him in the cab, and rushed out and into the twelve-story building. Leo Grail was an interesting possibility-that is, if he would boost her split to five hundred. And from the way he'd acted, it was as good as in the bank.
She swished through the employees' entrance and walked into the cubicle reserved as a dressing room for the four models. Her lips pursed with disgust, she hung up her sports coat and walked to the long mirror, tugging her tight skirt in place. It came not from Robler's, but from an expensive little shop on Madison; and looked it. She fingered the triple strand of pearls with disdain. Eight-dollar junk.
Picking up a hair brush from the girls' make-up table, with quick, sure strokes, she made her black hair fan out and fall like black whisps of silk down to her shoulders. Tomorrow she would try a pony tail; it made her look immature, but that was what aging business men seemed to like. And at this stage ageing businessmen were all she could aspire to. Married ones were the best; one could work on their guilt complex. (She was reading some psycho stuff, loved the word 'complex.') She was re-doing her mouth when Robler's angry voice intruded.
"Get into number five, pronto, Jana. Mr. Bradden's waiting."
A fat hand appeared, in the open door, holding out the garment, a cerise-colored wool coat with capelet. She slipped it on and walked out into the showroom, halting before Tom Bradden. His eyes gleamed at her appearance, his hand flattened his plastered-down silver hair so that she could see the big diamond.
"Looks real good." He turned to Robler, who was leaning against the wall. "I wish I could take your model along with the garment; it would be a sure sale." He chuckled, watching Jana's slim nyloned legs as she slowly pirouetted, showing the coat from every angle.
While performing her job, she tried to size up Tom Bradden's financial assets. By now, she had a foolproof system evaluating a client. First, a man's footwear must not be flashy but conservative, hand-tooled, and in line with the rest of his outfit. After that, his hands; or rather his nails. Mr. Michaels, the millionaire from Philadelphia, had fooled her with his black-rimmed nails. But he was a special case; any one with more than a million could afford to look shappy and unkempt. One also could tell a lot by a man's hair; if too long, or cut outlandishly, or over-pomaded, it meant he was straining for effect-not a good sign.
Bradden met all her requirements; he was well-groomed, his hair had been cut by a decent barber, his hands were above par. Yes, Tom Bradden would even be better than Leo Graffless demanding, she thought, giving him a slow snide.
"Nice, Jana; very nice," said Bradden. And to Robler. "Write me three dozen of number five. Caii I see that beige ensemble again?"
"Put it on, Jana," said Robler, smiling benevolently. "Make up your mind, Tom. She's already shown it twice."
"I'm not quite sure about that three-quarters coat," said Bradden, not giving a damn.
It's a bum outfit, thought Jana, belting the plain dress. The braiding around the neck, repeated on the coat, was not hand-made as in the finer shops. By now Jana was not fooled by the price of any gown. As in every department, the customer got what he paid for, she thought, as she walked out to display the ensemble, or rather herself, to Tom Bradden.
"I really am not sure about this number," frowned Bradden, flashing roguish eyes at Jana. "Would you mind coming closer, Miss? I want to look at that braiding again."
He'd seen the braid, but he wanted a closer look at Jana. She stood in front of him, not moving, a sphynx-like smile on her lean-cheeked face. Brad-den's long fingers ran down the braid of the coat and she felt his little finger poking at her brassiere. She wanted to laugh out loud, but didn't.
"Hm, I'll try half a dozen, Allis. It's a risk." His eyes signalled, I'll risk it with you, girt. Now Jana could afford a smile. She nodded her head lightly in Bradden's direction and waltzed out.
In the showroom, as Bradden was signing an order that came to ninety thousand dollars, he said:
"Well, I'll be lying out this afternoon. And Allie, lent me know when Jana's available."
"I sure will, Tom. Thanks for the order." They shook hands and Robler felt doubly lucky; he had an outsize order, and he had it from an expert that Jana was worth all she cost him....
CHAPTER SIX
Jana put down the light-gray plastic receiver, which matched the wall-to-wall rug, and drew a deep sigh of relief. She had all day Sunday to herself-which meant tomorrow as well as tonight. As Allis had regretfully informed her, she wanted him to spend the weekend with his family. Good and bad news, she thought, getting up to draw back the rose-colored drapes.
The good part was that she didn't have to mess with that flabby fool who made her do despicable things, unable to perform like a man unless someone aroused his slimy imagination. The bad part was that she'd have to get the hundred later. But soon. For, no matter what he spent on her, she never allowed him to leave satisfied unless he put cash down on the glass-topped dresser. It gave her a kind of cruel pleasure, as visible proof that her evil ways paid off. She wanted to be reminded every time that her evil conduct was getting her what she wanted.
This made her think of Beppo. Some day-she counted on that day-she would prove it to him that she had followed his credo.
She took off the smart black suit and hung it in the closet. In her rose-colored housecoat she sat in her gadgety kitchen, eating a liverwurst sandwich. She could afford good eating places, but preferred putting every cent into her bank account.
Munching her sandwich, and washing it down with instant coffee, she took inventory.
I've worked thirteen and a half months for Robler, and my weekly take-home pay is eighty-six bucks. Not bad. I own a good Persian coat, and loads of dresses, not to forget hand-made lingerie. Then there was the three-year lease on the apartment, which could always be converted into cash. And most important, she had exactly fourteen hundred in the bank. A trifling sum, true; but before she was through with Robler, it would amount to much more.
She wandered about the apartment, moving ash trays, picking up A Way With Words, and then putting it down again; she was in no mood to increase her vocabulary tonight. Standing in the door, she admired the cozy splendor of her bedroom, glad now that she had insisted on the extra-large, white-and-gold antiqued bed that matched the rest of the furniture. Gold and white threaded gauze curtains billowed in the evening breeze. She sat down at her dresser and gazed at the batteries of glass flagons and cream jars, finally looked into the mirror, which she really hated to do.
She was afraid it would show in her face. Like a red mark on her forehead, or an ugly set of lines about her mouth-the mark of evil. As always, nothing showed. Her lean-contoured, pale-cheeked face with the somber-glowing eyes was that of a very young girl who didn't get enough to eat. Yet it was this same hungry look that men loved and mistook for passion.
She laughed at the silent curtains. Men were such fools, and to fool them was her pleasure. To pet, squeeze, torture and arouse them; to be petted, squeezed, caressed and finally taken, watching their squirming emoting, feeling absolutely nothing-that was keen enjoyment. And to pocket the money earned by submitting to their vile fancies amounted to exaltation, glorifying her evd ways.
She stared at the grey-gleaming telephone, wishing that it would ring. For no reason at all, she felt suddenly lonely. She could always call Anna, go with her to a movie. But she recalled that Anna was having dinner with a new beau, some cutter from Seventh Avenue. She couldn't understand Anna, always in and out of love, giving what she had to give and often getting nothing in return. Thai's because she is a sentimental fool, reflected Jana. She picked up the paper, looking at the movie columns. A lot of Westerns; besides, who wanted to stand in line on Saturday night? She frowned at the place where the color TV would stand, decided to remind Allis of his promise.
Taking off her robe and embroidered white satin slip, she walked to the mirror and faced herself in white lace bra and panties. Every few days she went through this routine to convince herself tit at she had to be expensive to men, that her perfect body deserved a high price. She unhooked the bra and slid out of the panties, stepping back to get an all-over view.
There was a sentimental aspect to this self-exhibition which she tried to ignore: she needed constant reminder that Beppo had been right in predicting she'd be a beauty. Also, she could confirm in the neutral glass what Beppo was missing, had lost when lie walked out of her life. It was the only outlet for any feelings that she allowed herself.
She stared at her eyes, for once soft and dreamy, and then clutched her firm breasts, delighting in their size. Beppo's hand could never hold one of tliem now. In one year's time they had grown to twice their former puny size. By now her thighs were nicely rounded, her derriere was firm and well-fleshed. For one short instant she permitted herself to wish he were here to see her womanly splendor. She could almost feel the hot brown eyes warming her skin. As he reached for her, crazed and ready to explode, she would laugh in his face and show him the door. She listened to the shrill sound of her laughter, wondered how it would affect him, relishing in his sudden deflation.
But as her laughter stopped she knew she was alone, that this was a fairy tale.
What to do with the evening? But of course; nothing would stimulate her feeling of victory more than a trip to her old neighborhood. She pictured herself walking down the Avenue, her smart coat brushing against the shabby, ragged women, feel their looks of hatred and impotent envy. She might even visit her folks-her mother, mainly. And she would make certain of her welcome by bringing a present. Yes, now was the time.
She wore the black suit with the tiny mink collar her mother hadn't seen; it was incredibly smart and expensive, she might even let her mother copy it. With it went black and white leather gloves, and a huge patent leather purse. Her hair was stuffed into the crown of a coachman's hat which made her look older, almost of age. Her fingers moved over the row of dresses and she took out the blue two-piece; with only slight alterations her mother could wear it.
'Blue looks dull on you,' was Beppo's comment at their last meeting, in that greasy joint. She tried to avoid blue in her wardrobe; Beppo was right about most things. But dropping her cold had been a mistake-she would prove it to him, someday....
Hating the idea of the dreary subway ride, Jana almost took a cab. But telling herself that it would be a fit preparation for the descent into dismalness, she took the IRT.
Nothing has changed, she thought, walking along her street; nothing will ever change here. The houses, time-worn and timelessly drab, sheltered the same poverty and want, the passing crowd was as ill-clad and poorly-fed as before. Only the smells pervading the stair case of the tenement seemed more foul. The thought that she was a visitor from another world was extremely comforting.
An odd excitement rushed through her as she rang the door bell, impatient to see her mother's tired face. But it was her father who opened the door after her fifth ring. His Ted-rimmed, dull eyes held a mocking look.
"Well, look who's here! Step right in, Duchess." He held the door open and she walked inside, knowing she shouldn't have come.
"Where's Maw?" She sat down on the edge of the faded couch, the brown package in her lap.
"She's out delivering some rag," he said, standing before her, displaying his dirty shabbiness. "Don't we look prosperous. And all this," his big red hand made a sweeping gesture, "on a model's salary!" He stared at the high-crowned felt hat and frowned. "How many guys paid for your outfit? I know you got reason not to let us know where you're living. Shacking up with some guy...."He was shouting now. "Not good enough we are for you to associate with. Your poor Maw's working herself ragged...."
"Calm down, Paw; it's bad for your ticker to get excited. I just came to bring Maw a dress; she can fix it to fit." She put the package on the couch.
"Now isn't that nice of you to bring some old rag." He sat down on a straight back chair. "Or did you come to tell us that you're getting hitched?"
She stared at him, motionless. "No, of course not. Who'd marry a whore? That's all you are!" he thundered.
Jana stared at his bluish face, at the balled fists. She felt nothing but contempt. Her father was less than nothing, not even an honest sap, as Beppo had called his father. "I'd better be going before things get rough." She walked to the door, saw his expression change.
He got up and came toward her, his eyes almost humble, putting his grimy workman's hand on the fine wool of her sleeve. "I'm sorry I said that about you being no good. It's just that I miss you." Were those real tears in his eyes? Jana wondered. "I'm getting on, and still no job. The burden's all on your poor Maw. It's getting so bad. I can't even afford a few beers any more."
Aha, so that's how the wind was blowing. The miserable beggar! Well, it would come out of Allis' pocket in the end. She took her wallet from her purse, wondering what to give him. She had a fifty and a twenty, besides some change. She felt his eyes on her wallet and quickly took out the twenty, not wanting him to see the fifty.
"Here, Paw," she pressed the bill into his ready palm. "That should buy a few. And now I must run along." She touched his cheek lightly with her lips and walked out, calling after her; "Give Maw my love."
Rushing down the stairs, she thought What a waste! Before the night's half over, he'll have drunk it all Up. And not a cent for her mother. A bitter taste was in her mouth, a taste she wanted to rinse away. If ever, she needed a drink now. Not that she liked the stuff; but there were times when alcohol did help. This was one of them. Walking down the well-known street, she decided to call her mother tomorrow. Then she remembered that her folks couldn't afford the luxury of a telephone.
She felt the stare of the working men as she walked along, knew that it had been a mistake to come down here. If her mother had been home, Jana would have enjoyed the grateful look in her eyes and her pleasure when she opened the package.
There was the corner beer joint where, in another life, she had sat at the long shabby bar with Beppo, listening to his big spiel. Why not go in for old times' sake?
It was crowded and noisy, the air hung in thick, foul clouds over the greasy heads. At the end of the bar she spied an empty stool and moved toward it, sitting down next to a man with a round head whose bluish, pendulous lower lip was pushed out aggressively. His small, mean eyes, too closely set together, blinked at her, and his mouth quivered in a tentative grin.
The barman recognized her at once, and his watery blue eyes lit up. "Hello Jana, it's been a long time." She could see he was impressed by her elegance. "You have changed; yea man, you certainly are a beauty."
"Thanks, Bdl. I was visiting the old neighborhood, thought I'd have a quick one here." Ordering the double scotch, she felt the stares of the men and decided to ignore them. Her eyes roved over the faces, looking for one face, knowing she was just being foolish.
Bdl placed the drink before her, wiped the wood with a limp cloth. "Haven't seen you around. Guess you moved away," he ventured.
"Yea, I'm working downtown. I live there, too." It was marvelous what a drink could do; sipping with gusto, she suddenly felt warm inside and out. She closed her eyes, saw a narrow face with intense, mocking eyes, was overcome by the sweetness of old, lost memories. It wouldn't hurt to ask.
"Seen Beppo around? I just wondered what happened to that boy."
Bill pursed his lips and drew himself a Lager, brushing the foam off with a flat piece of wood. "You mean Beppo Callente, I guess. Lemme "think now, he used to be regular here, almost every night. But for the past three months he hasn't been around."
Jana was almost glad, angry now she had inquired. He was one sleeping dog that should let be.
"Pardon me, Miss," the man with the blue lower lip was talking to her, a horrible grin on his face. "Did I hear you mention Beppo? Beppo Callente?"
Jana stared at him and nodded.
"As it happens, I can tell you plenty about that boy. Mainly, that he's in trouble."
Jana felt a tightness around her heart. "What kind of trouble? And how do you know?" She stared haughtily into the mean eyes.
"Because I was-well, let's say I was his boss. But he didn't obey orders. So now he's in trouble. By the way, I recall seeing you a long time ago, with Beppo." He cackled. "I bet you're the chick he took to the Newport Hotel."
She frowned. How did this lummox know about the Newport? Then she guessed. This man must be one of what Beppo used to proudly and mysteriously refer to as his 'connections.' "If I was, I don't want to remember it," (r) she said. "I've lost contact with the neighborhood, and with Beppo."
"I'm Big Sam, pleased to meetya," he said, waiting to hear her name. But she chose to remain anonymous. "And to tell you plain facts, Beppo's in the clink. Oh, they can't hang anything on him. But I'm not putting out the fifty bail, after he disobeyed orders."
"How-how long will he have to stay locked up?" She pictured him, pale and disheveled, with angry eyes.
"Well, if his old man don't come up with bail money, till the trial. Might be weeks."
Jana downed her drink to give herself the needed courage. Her eyes were full of contempt. "Why are you so cheap, when you got him into the mess? I'll bet he did your dirty work for you before."
"No use getting up your gander, little lady. If you're so hot for helping him, why not shell out the dough?"
So Jana did the most foolish thing of her career.
Later, she explained to herself that it was the whiskey. She opened her purse, took out the wallet, extracted the fifty and put the bill down next to Big Sam's glass. "Here. And you better bail him out." Her black eyes were compelling.
Big Sam put the bill in his pocket, baffled about Beppo's attraction for women. "You can be sure, little lady, I'll get him out. I don't need your money. See." He put his bulging wallet under Jana's nose. "Any message?" His eyes had that odious blink again.
Jana reflected for a moment. "Just tell him it's for old times' sake-from Jana. He can find me where I'm working."
"Wait, lemme write it down." Sam pulled out a folded piece of yellow paper and asked Bill for a pencil. "Now, what's the address?"
"Allis Robler, Inc., it's a coat wholesale house on Seventh Avenue, he can look it up in the phone book." She pictured his brown forefinger moving down the R's of the yellow page. "Just tell him Jana; he'll know."
Big Sam wrote it down, put the paper into his pocket. "You can depend on me giving this to him." He looked at her and grinned. "You're a swell kid, Jana. Can I buy you a drink?"
About to refuse, Jana remembered with horror that the change left in her small purse would not pay for the double scotch she had consumed.
Smding prettily, she cocked her head. "Thanks, Sam, but I must get going. You can take care of the one I've had. You have all my dough."
"It's a pleasure." He opened his mouth to invite her for dinner, looked at her expensive outfit and kept quiet. She wasn't giving it for free, he thought; and to his kind, she wasn't giving it at all.
"Well, so long, Bill." Jana climbed off the stool. "Bye, Sam; and don't let him down."
Head high, she walked out of the joint, knowing she would be discussed by Sam and the bar man. She stepped lightly, suddenly feeling wonderful. Now that contact was reestablished, who knew what would happen? Maybe her heart would come alive again.
All at once the world was full of magic, even the old women in their worn coats seemed not entirely hopeless....
CHAPTER SEVEN
What's the matter with you, Jana? You're biting my head off over nothing. At lunch you spilled coffee all over your new green outfit. Yea, I saw that cup shake in your hand. Now let's have it, who did what to you?"
They were walking to the subway, and Anna's worried eyes were on Jana's face which looked pitifully thin, almost haggard, beneath the coat of makeup-
"I'm sorry, Anna, really I am. I didn't mean to be hateful. It's just-" she stopped and drew Anna into the nearest doorway. Dumbfounded, Anna wondered whether those were real or crocodile tears, streaming down Jana's cheeks, streaking the pancake make-up.
"Here, stop bawling." Anna produced a large handkerchief; Jana dried her tears and wiped her nose.
"I'm okay now, just being stupid. Forget it, Anna. You're my only friend."
"Then why not tell me what's eating you? It will make you feel better. I can keep a secret. Come on, there's a Walgreen on the corner; we can talk better over a cup of coffee."
Jana sipped the unsweetened black brew, angry now that she'd let herself go. Anna would laugh at her-and be right.
"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."
That did it, and Jana told the humiliating story: how, overcome by stupid sentiment, while visiting her old haunts, on hearing drat Beppo was in jail she had forked out fifty bucks to bail him out to a horrible-looking hoodlum called Big Sam.
"You're a fool, Jana. I can guess the rest! Sam's got the dough, and Beppo's still locked up. Right?"
Jana shook her head. "Wrong. You see, that happened a week ago. Every time the phone rang at my place, I shook. But it never rang for me. So I resigned myself to forgetting the whole thing. But I keep on thinking and wondering, yea, even worrying about that louse. Which made me jumpy."
"I can understand, Jana. So you didn't hear. Forget about the whole affair."
"But I DID hear." From the maw of her purse, Jana produced a postal money order, holding it up for Anna's inspection. "It came in the mail with an unknown handwriting." Only now she remembered that she had never seen Beppo's handwriting; she even wondered whether he could write.
"Hm, it's for fifty all right. And it's signed 'Beppo Callente." So, what's wrong? He paid you back; that ought to make you feel better."
"He could have said thanks," said Jana. "On the envelope it says: 'From Beppo Callente, c/o Irving, General Delivery, Philadelphia.'"
Anna looked at the sad little lace and was moved by an upsurge ol pity. "So he moved away. Good thing. You didn't expect to take up with that jail-bird again, Jana? Or, did you?"
Jana's heart said yes, but her lips said, "No, of course not; but I could expect some courtesy." She drank her coflee took out her compact to repair her lace.
"You know, the way you handle men in general-and I mean nice men-I would've sworn you're completely heartless. And here you go soft over a punk. I guess maybe he's the only soft spot in your iron-mesh heart," said Anna, hitting the nail on the head.
"If I have no feelings but contempt and greed, chalk it all up to Beppo; even if he's a no-good punk, he told me right; for people who are born poor, there is only one way to get ahead: see evil, hear evil, and do evil. Some p'eople-and you're one of them-believe in love. Me, I believe in hate; maybe it's the other, darker side of the same thing," said Jana.
"You worry me, Jana, with those crazy ideas of yours. They'll bring you nothing but trouble. And you'd better go easy with Robler; after all, he gives you 'anything you want."
"Only because I don't beg or ask, because I demand. He makes me sick; now we meet in some downtown fleebag, each time a different one. His wife's on the war path; she wants to find something on him, get a divorce with a nice lump sum settlement. It drives the poor guy frantic. He never was any good in bed, but now he wears me down. I've got to slap him into action. Yea, I got myself a slap-happy lover," giggled Jana.
"How awful. In your place, I'd end it right now. Think of the scandal if she ever ... Why, it would cost you your job."
"There are other, better jobs," said Jana, thinking of Tom Bradden in Dallas. "I would put an end to the thing today-"
"So, why wait?"
"Because, in a very few weeks, I have a birthday, as I told Mr. Boss. I told him what to get me for a present."
Anna was flabbergasted. "He gave you the apartment, furnished it, bought all your expensive clothes; what else-"
"A nice string of matched pearls-oriental ones. The kind where they don't do something to the oyster, the kind that costs plenty...."Anna just stared at her friend. "So you can see, I've got to stand him a few more weeks."
Back in her apartment, Jana put the money-order in an envelope and sealed it, then put it away with other keepsakes. Some time, no matter how far removed, she would make Beppo a present of it. She did not intend to cash it. She didn't mind losing the fifty dollars; they were a reminder never to go soft again.
She hated the several evenings each week in the shabby hotels where Allis made her register, each time under a different name. He himself would sign in as Mr. Wolf, or Hagerty, half an hour after he'd phoned her to make sure what her room number was. Then he would knock twice at her door, enter and lock the door, standing there shaking with fright.
This time it was the Hollis Hotel, west of Times Square. She was watching him undress, stretched out on the greyish sheet, deciding this was the last time. He looked positively ridiculous without his shorts, his low-slung, wobbly buttocks trembling beneath his shirt tails. He took off the shirt and waddled on short, thin legs to the bed. His sickly-white body glistened like suet; there was no hair on his sloppy chest, all visible parts drooped lamentably.
"I can only stay about two hours, honey." He bent over her to kiss her breast. "You can stay and sleep through, if you want to."
"I don't intend to, I got a better place to stay," she said, pushing him off. "Now, let's get going.
You know how much time it takes to get you in the mood ... honey," she added, hating the sight of him.
"You don't like me as you used to, Jana," he complained. "I know this isn't the best place, but we've got to be careful." His hands, like angry spiders, ran all over her body, plucking and pinching. He gave her a moist, slobbering kiss on the mouth.
Jana felt like slapping him; not where he liked to be slapped, but right in his ugly kisser. But she just turned over. "Do lie down and relax, honey," she whispered. "I'm going to give you what you want."
Docilely he rolled over, displaying his fat-wrinkled backside. Her hands moved lightly down his spine, she worked her fingertips down from his neck to the soles of his feet. This was the easy introduction. But now she used her mouth, making islands of moisture in the fatty surface. The massed fat quivered and he groaned. He turned over, and Jana forced herself to think about the forthcoming hundred-and those pearls-while she did his bidding.
She took the belt out of the loops of his trousers. Gripping the belt buckle, she lifted her arm. A wild joy, mingled with excitement, raged through her. This was the part she didn't mind; in fact, she rather enjoyed giving it to him. For he represented everything she hated and despised, all the men she would trample on her way up. As the belt bit into the pale flesh, he seemed to sink into the mattress.
"Harder, faster," he urged, and she let go, never stopping till her arm trembled from fatigue. She dropped the belt and gazed at the red cross-stitch pattern on the pale background of fat, waiting for the usual reaction. But nothing happened, the miracle of the whip did not take place.
His eyes opened and he whimpered. "Do something, Jana; help me."
"What do you want me to do?" her voice was cold.
"You know-if the whip doesn't work, there's always a way," he cackled inanely.
She knew that he would never leave, this would go on all night unless she took drastic action. He liked to be hurt; well, hurt him she would.
She climbed into bed, and sank her teeth into his flesh, moving with frantic, jerky ferocity, knowing she'd finish him once and for all, she decided; so that never again would any girl have to do what she was doing....He trembled, groaned, and collapsed into final ecstasy, emitting a plaintive wail.
Jana ran to the bathroom and threw up, laughing all the time. His kind were indestructible; here she had meant to really hurt and humiliate him, and had brought about his release.
When she came back into the room, he was getting into his overcoat. "That was the best ever, Jana. You know me better than anyone else does. I'm going to slip out now. You'd better stay a few more hours. Here's a little extra for your trouble."
She took the two hundred dollars and pecked his moist cheek. "You're my man, Allis."
He blew her a kiss and walked out ol the door leaving her to her disgust. She dressed hurriedly, deciding not to stay another minute in that dump. Allis was a silly fool; most likely his wife was glad to be rid of him for a few hours.
She crossed the lobby, head high, eyes straight ahead, got into a cab outside of the door. Fifteen minutes later she stood under the shower in her apartment, washing the past hour out of her hair. She toweled herself dry, feeling simply wonderful, and decided to enlarge her vocabulary. It was only a quarter past ten, plenty of time to get her beauty rest. She concentrated on the word "epiphany". It had a rich sound. She was reading through all the synonyms and antonyms, trying to memorize them, when the phone shrilled. Now who would call her at this hour? Not that stupid Allis again! She placed the book on a chair, picked up the receiver.
"Yes?"
"Am I speaking to Miss Jana Galen?" inquired a soft slurring voice with a Southern drawl, a voice she never had heard before. Instantly she was on the alert.
"This is she. Who is it? I was asleep."
"I doubt it," said the voice, and Jana visualized a mocking snide. "I'm coming up to see you. I know the address. Apartment seven, right? I'll be there in half an hour."
"But-who is this?" stuttered Jana. "I have retired for the night," she added.
"I'll talk to you in your nightie, never mind. And you'd better see me. I'm Mrs. Robler, Mrs. Allis Robler. Half an hour," said the voice. The sound of the receiver as it dropped on the other end sounded like the gong of doom.
CHAPTER EIGHT
To face the music, Jana decided she must look her best. So she donned a white, lace-encrusted nightie, her favorite one, her splendid breasts peaking through spidery lace roses. Over it she wore a matching filmy tea gown. She brushed her hair, let it tumble in a black cascade about her face and shoulders. No lipstick; she must appear young and inexperienced.
She would let the woman talk out her rage, listen politely, pretending that this was a shock and that she had been led to believe Mr. Robler was a divorced man. Never having laid eyes on Mrs. Robler, it was a good try.
Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door, and Jana opened it to Allis' wife.
"My, my, what a pretty girl. And so young!" Ada Robler smiled pleasantly as she walked to the couch. "May I sit down?" She did so, patting the seat beside her. "Don't be afraid, I like pretty girls. In fact, I can do them more good than that husband of mine," she added. Astounded, Jana dropped meekly upon the couch.
Ada Robler's appearance was a surprise to Jana. She had expected a fat, over-dressed housewifely creature. Instead this woman was exquisitely svelt and expensively clothed in a dark-grey wool ensemble with costly embroidery on the matching coat. Her ash-blonde curls peaked out from beneath the wide-brimmed red felt creation. The sea-green eyes twinkled with amusement.
"I like you too," said the amazing creature. "Too had we meet under such deplorable circumstances." This put Jana on her guard. "Mind if I smoke?" Jana shook her head when the gold cigarette case-most likely from Tiffany's-was snapped open. She refused the proffered cigarette watching the woman touch the gold lighter to the cigarette. She noticed the large emerald on the slender left hand. Obviously Mrs. Robler lacked none of the best things in life, thought Jana bitterly.
"Now," Ada Robler puffed out a cloud of smoke, "let me brief you. And stop fidgeting, I didn't come here to vent my rage on you. The fact is, I'm not in the least outraged. I came here simply to make you a proposition and-" again the green eyes twinkled at Jana-"seeing that you are so lovely, I may even stretch a point. I know that Allis got you this apartment, and has been having an affair with you for almost a year. I don't mind that in the least. Knowing that he's no amatory giant, I pity you. It's only fair for him to reward you handsomely.
"But it so happens that I'm tired of him. I want a divorce, a sweet one, with a handsome settlement. He refuses to give me one.' So we'll have to apply the screws. Now instead of spending my money-or rather, his-on a detective to track you two down and find you in bed, as required in New York State, it is more to my taste to reach my ends with your help."
Jana swallowed hard, her face showed shock. "But how?" she muttered. "There will be a scandal."
"A very private one. I'll explain. Tell Allis you've decided to leave town, ask him to come here for a goodbye party. Tell him that I phoned you; yes, even came to see you, making you an offer of-shall we say a thousand dollars?-to be found in flagranti by my detectives. With one difference. You tell him that I set the date for the following day. and that's the reason you want to see him right away."
She paused, took a deep puff and watched Jana's expression. "Clever, don't you think? And you'll lose nothing. I know how stingy Allis is with his lady loves."
Jana was confused; it sounded like an overly-involved movie plot. Could the woman be serious? And shouldn't she pretend that she and Allis just had a beautiful friendship-more like a father-daughter arrangement? Hut as she looked into those wise, mocking eyes, she knew there was no use pretending. In Fact, she oddly sensed that this attractive woman hated men even more than she herself did.
"I know it sounds complicated." Slim fingers mashed the cigarette into the grey ash tray. "But it's '"really quite simple. You lure Allis hereunder the pretext of revealing my scheme for the following clay. You are worried to death and are packing when he arrives, clearing out to avoid trouble. This is goodbye.
"So, full of emotion, grateful to you for your decency, he climbs into bed with you. And pronto, we arrive on the scene. Of course you've left the door unlocked. You're caught in flagranti; for I, despicable woman, have set a trap for you. Exit lover boy Allis. Comprende? She giggled, showing small and very white teeth.
"Well, I don't know," said Jana. "Are you sure it won't be in the papers?"
"What if it is? You don't show your face. Publicity makes you more interesting." She opened her suede handbag, took out a plain manila envelope and handed it to Jana. "Here's a little down payment. Also, a post-dated check for the remaining eight hundred."
Jana looked at the two hundred-dollar bills and the pink check. It was made out to her name, eight hundred dollars. She put it all back into the envelope, placed it on the low table. During the prolonged silence her mind was working at top speed. Was this a trap? Mrs. Robler could stop the check. Rut even then Jana would have the two hundred, and the apartment lease was in her name. Besides, she would be through hiding in cheap hotels with Allis.
"I won't cheat you out of your eight hundred," said the woman. "It means nothing to me. Is it a deal?"
Jana gazed into those fathomless green eyes and nodded. "It's a deal. When do you want me to arrange it?"
The carmine lips pursed. "Let me see, this is Wednesday. I think next Saturday would be excellent. Around seven. I'll tell Allis that I'm going to Newport to visit my sister over the weekend, which is not unusual. I shall call you here Saturday at six to make sure it's all set."
Jana expected the woman to get up and leave, but she took off the coat and leaned back. "Now that we understand each other, how about offering me a drink? I'm simply parched."
"I've only got scotch," said Jana, arising.
"Scotch will be fine. Three jiggers on ice."
While Jana fixed the drinks in the kitchen she tried to figure the woman out. It was obvious that she liked Jana; what surprised Jana even more was the mysterious attraction the smart creature held for her. How could a clumsy blob of fat ever have gotten such a delicate wife? Money-what else?-she decided as she carried the drinks in on her best tray.
"Mmm, delicious, just the way I like it." Ada Robler sipped slowly, her eyes watching Jana over the rim of her glass. Jana took a long swallow, and felt an agreeable warmth spreading through her body. Mrs. Robler belonged to the world of luxury supplied by unlimited means which Jana yearned to enter. Unlike many women with money, she was exquisitely lovely, with brains in the bargain. A rare combination, Jana knew.
"I like your place. I know it shows your taste; Allis would have done it all in red plush and gold." She giggled. "You know, men like Allis make you appreciate your own sex," she added lightly.
So that was it. Jana understood at once. Mrs. Robler was a Lesbian, one who apparently found her, Jana, desirable. It was a baffling revelation for Jana had never known, less indulged in, one of that breed. The few who had been pointed out to her were mannish creatures in low-heeled shoes and plain tailored suits. As she looked up their eyes met, and again Mrs. Robler's had a slightly mocking expression.
"You're wondering about me and my-leanings," said the woman. "I don't mind enlightening you. I do prefer girls-very attractive ones-as playmates. It wasn't always that way. Maybe Allis' gross antics brought it to the fore. If you think me immoral, that's up to you. Although, you're in no position to throw stones. I don't blame you at all getting close to the boss; it always has, and always will, pay off. You're very young and I guess Allis was just a starter. But you can do much better, believe me."
"I hate him," said Jana, surprised at the vehemence of her voice. "Him, and all men. I can never feel anything for them, even less with him. I think all that big-to-do about sexual enjoyment is just a lot of wind." She shut her mouth, feeling that she had said too much.
The woman laughed deep in her throat. "Splendid. I agree with you. The fact that a man can't give you pleasure leaves the door wide open."
"Open to what?"
"To the right woman, who will take over where men have failed. Pleasure from woman to woman is cleaner, less hurtful, and more intensely tender," said Ada Robler, finishing her drink. She arose. "And now I shall leave. By the way, would you mind showing me the bedroom? After all, I have to lead the detectives there."
Jana preceded her, proud of the white and gold splendor. Mrs. Robler was a woman who would appreciate it.
She stood at the foot of the bed, her hands rubbing the fine-grained wood. "Just as you are-lovely," she said. "And to think that my^ elephantine husband wallowed in sin here with you!" The laughed together. "To bad you'll have to sell the place ... But then, we can find you another place just as nice," said the surprising Mrs. Robler. .
Jana pondered the 'we.' The woman seemed quite sure that Jana would agree to her proposition. She wondered how it would be, how those lips would taste? The thought did not repel her. It seemed worth trying, especially with a price tag attached to her favors.
"You know, Jana (you may call me Ada, if you like) I might take you along on a nice trip-maybe Europe-shall we say, as my paid companion? Allis' settlement should allow me this luxury," she giggled. "Does that interest you?"
Jana looked into the green eyes and nodded. "Sounds fascinating."
Ada took off the smart hat and flung it on a chair. Her hair was like honeyed foam. She threw herself down on the bed, laughing. "I'm testing your battle ground, Jana."
Jana was too startled to move; Ada Robler's crass directness, almost every word the woman had thrown at her, was a bold challenge, a velvet gauntlet thrown at her feet to be picked up as a token of combat. Had Jana believed in morals, she would have called it a moral challenge.
Ada Robler was a trifle disappointed; what she had intended to happen did not happen, the delightful unripened fruit did not fall into her lap. She had been too sure of herself, too quick; she had frightened the girl who-and rightly so-did not entirely trust her.
She swung her grey-nyloned legs over the side of the bed and sat up, giggling: "Much too fine a bed for Allis." She patted her fairy-princess hair and squinted at Jana, who had not moved. "How come you're all alone in this fine big apartment? I mean, is there no dark handsome athletic young man in your nights? Don't tell me you're true to Allis?" The tone was light and teasing; again Jana felt the exciting challenge of Ada's soigne person.
"One man is more than I need. Never more than one at a time," she replied. Why was she telling this woman her secrets? But something compelled her to spill her guts, to rid herself of an accumulation of deep-buried anger and revolt.
"I know you're making fun of me. You have it all-you were born to all the good things, you take them for granted. While I have to claw my way up." She sat down next to Ada, watching her expression closely.
"If I were in your place, I'm sure I'd go after the gold too. Only I'd try to mix a little pleasure with the strain of the effort." Her fingers with the pointed, bloody nails touched Jana's cheek lightly. "You've started on your climb too young, Jana. It may sour you on life-your only life."
The woman was partly right, hadn't Jana been swimming in an ocean of loneliness just before Ada's call? The smooth cool hand touching her neck thrilled her with its silent message of new, unexperienced tenderness. She wanted Ada Robler to be her friend. At the same time, her gutter-shrewdness made her aware of the other's true motives. What this spoiled and probably bored woman wanted was to use Jana for her own pleasure. Well, her pleasure would be Jana's gain. As she began to speculate on how to get the most out of this new, baffling association, the still-born flower of emotion withered and was replaced by naked greed.
Turning her head she noticed the golden specks in the green eyes of the other woman. She also saw the string of pearls, evenly matched, shimmering in self-contained perfection, encircling the white neck.
"They're perfect." Jana's forefinger touched them; they felt cool and smooth.
"When we get to Paris, I may find the little jeweler where these come from." There was silent promise in the tone of her voice. "Why are you afraid of me Jana? Just because I'm your lover's wife?" She laughed out loud. "This isn't the first time wife and mistress have come to an understanding."
"I'm not afraid." Jana's lips bunched together and the sultry look on the childish face delighted Ada. "It's just that I'm not specially interested in girls. But you're different-you intrigue me," she admitted.
"Which means you're interested." Ada knew when the right moment-the one favorable for her purposes-arrived. She held out her arms and Jana went into them, deciding not to founder but to keep her head at all times. She offered her lips, and Ada kissed them delicately, her fingers combing through Jana's hair. She lay back on the bed, drawing Jana along. The girl closed her eyes as Ada's hand closed on the spidery lace roses....
CHAPTER NINE
Jana wished the woman wouldn't dawdle, as she listened to the shower in the bathroom. Ada had left the door wide open. If she wants to have her back scrubbed, I won't do it, thought Jana, digging her disheveled head deeper into the pillow. The blonde's perfume clung to the bedclothes; Jana would ask her what the scent was; never, but never, to use it herself. It all had started out as a novel experience and she had allowed the woman to slowly and artfully lead her to high excitement. But when reciprocation was demanded, Jana had not found it to her taste.
"You're clumsy," she recalled Ada's whining complaint. And, "Don't just tear at me. Take your time, make me enjoy myself."
That was just it, Jana had not wanted for Ada to enjoy herself; she had a feeling of hatred mixed with contempt for the greedy wench. The slim white body with the surprisingly floppy breasts that had been disguised by the expensive bra, repelled her. Two cats, playing at sex. No, this was not for her. She had somehow hoped that she could find temporary solace with one of her sex. Now she knew this could never be. The true reason-ignored by her-was that her hate drive took the place of love. It burned with consuming passion, overpowering all of her other urges, drowning them in a powerful floodtide of 'satisfaction.
It's a good thing I found out at an early stage, she thought, watching Ada come out of the bathroom. She closed her eyes, pretending sleep.
"Was it that exhausting?" Ada's perfume on her cheek, those naturally thin lips on her mouth.
Jana sat up, forced a smile, and yawned. "I guess you were exhausting-and also exciting," she added, jumping out of her bed and slipping into a rose-colored house coat which was not transparent.
"I know when I'm told to go." Ada stepped into her lace-edged, sea-green panties and stood before the mirror, tugging and squeezing her sagging breasts into the wonder-working brassiere. She wore no slip, the grey wool dress was plastered to her form.
She put on her hat and coat, grabbed her purse. Jana came alive. "Want me to call a cab?"
"That would be nice. It's almost five in the morning and I detest standing on street corners," said Ada, taking out a grey alligator wallet.
Calling the cab, Jana saw the woman put a bill on top of the dresser. There was really less inconvenience dealing with a woman, she decided, almost liking Ada. She put down the receiver. "Cab'll be' downstairs in five minutes," she said, walking up to Ada.
"That's good. Well, I'll be on my way. I did enjoy our being together, Jana. Too bad I don't appeal to you." And, as Jana opened her mouth: "No use pretending. I'm an old pro, I know. You'd make a lousy Lesbian. But I still like you." Then, at the door; "Start planning. I'll call you on Saturday."
Jana ran up to kiss the rouged cheek. "I'm sorry I was so clumsy," she whispered. "And I'm really glad I met you. Don't worry, I'll do my part."
There was no return of affection from Ada, who wasted no time on lost causes. "Good, I'll keep my word." She walked out closing the door softly, leaving Jana perplexed and thoughtful.
She was sorry that Ada Robler did not appeal to her; there went a gold mine. She really admired a woman whose rapaciousness and shrewdness matched her own. Ada hadn't entirely trusted Jana, the pearls had remained around the white neck during their dalliance. When she picked up the bill on the dresser, she felt a stab of disappointment. Only a fifty. Then she smiled. Ada was smart; she didn't fork out for half-hearted, sloppy service. In that, she and Ada were alike; ruthless, grasping, not wasting time on unprofitable ventures.
She went to bed and turned over the pillow, but the revolting scent still pervaded. She closed her eyes, feeling suddenly drained. Three hours sleep was not enough; she had to be on her job at nine-thirty. Rut planning seemed more important than rest. She repeated to her mind what she had to do.
It would upset her schedule; she would not not receive Allis' birthday gift, the coveted pearls. In fact, she would really lose out if she did as Ada wished. In any event, she would not leave town; that much was certain. Just go away for a week or two. Dallas was the place, Tom Bradden would entertain her lavishly....
All she was getting out of this deal was a paltry thousand, while who knows what Ada would get? It wasn't fair. But if she refused, the detectives would surely catch up with them. There must be a way to get more out of this.
Suddenly, she sat up in bed. Of course, Allis would have to come through. The plan formed quickly in her mind; it seemed perfect. She couldn't miss taking a double profit. Her head hit the pillow and she fell asleep, dreaming of golden mountains of ducats within her reach....
"You look terrible, Jana. What's wrong?" Anna's voice was full of concern, as she watched her friend nibbling at the toasted cheese.
"I didn't get much sleep last night," said Jana. She decided to drink her coffee black. "We've got to hurry back, Eisler from Pittsburgh's coming up at 2 p.m." Then, feeling Anna's eyes on her pasty face: "No, it wasn't the boss who put those rings under my eyes. I just thought over my whole situation. I'm sick of the guy."
"I was wondering when that day would come. Go easy, Jana; he's a spiteful little monkey."
"I'm not worried, I know just how to handle him. Let's go."
The afternoon dragged. Eisler was a mean customer, he looked only at the gowns, no matter how enticing the wearer.
She was putting on her coat, about to leave, when Anna stuck her head in. "Boss wants to see you before you go, Jana."
She got jittery. Should she tell him now? No, tomorrow morning she would come to work late, looking pale and frightened....
He was pacing up and down in the narrow cubicle he called his office, hands behind his back, his belly wobbled as if it were a detached entity. He stopped, looked at her, saw the pallor of her face, her dark-circled eyes.
"What's the matter with you? You been carousing?" His eyes were mean. "Don't add to my worries; things are bad enough as they are. I'm quite sure I'm being trailed."
"Can't you trust me a little bit? I'm worried too. You've been good to me, and I'd hate to cause you any trouble." Her voice was cooing as she pecked his flabby cheek. "It's lonesome alone in the apartment. 'I'm not interested in any other man, you're all I want."
He beamed, and kissed her lips. "That's what a man wants to hear. I just wanted to tell you, tonight I'm staying home; but tomorrow we'll meet. I found a little hotel, way down Forty-second street, the Otis. You'd better check in at seven, I'll phone ,you there at seven ten."
"The Otis, " she repeated. "I'll be there. Nighty night, Boss." A quick kiss and she walked out, hating every sparse hair on his head.
The next day she was even more tired. She had spent part of the night, figuring and planning. Should she tell him now? But that would never do. No, she had a better idea.
She was in the room at the Otis for exactly eight minutes when he phoned. "Hello, this is me. I'll be there in ten minutes."
Her voice came out, choked. "No, don't. Stay away from here, Allis. I just had a phone call. From her..:'
"You mean from Ada? But how-how did she know?"
"Never mind, she knows. And I've got to hurry to my place; she's coming to see me ... Yes, there. In an hour ... It can't be avoided. She said if I know what's good for me-and you-I'd better listen to what she has to say...."
After what seemed a long time, there came his tired voice: "Okay, you see her. But don't commit yourself. I'll call you later." He hung up.
Jana took a deep breath, grabbed up her purse and walked out, taking a taxi home. She needed time to decide exactly what to tell him. It must sound sincere, or he wouldn't bite.
At the apartment, she fixed herself a strong drink-one was all she would allow herself. Then she . put a turkey TV dinner in the oven, sipping and thinking while it was cooking. How much should she demand? If she named too big a sum, he would question her motives. How much cash did a girl need to make a quick getaway? Two thousand, if she did it first class. But he would never ... No, he could scarcely refuse a thousand.
At nine thirty, sitting in a comfortable easy chair, she listened to his worried voice. "Is she still there?"
"She left about an hour ago. I'm all shook up, Allis. Oh, this is terrible....
"What happened? Come on, tell me! I'm phoning you from the corner drug store. Funny, she acted quite friendly when she came in, halt an hour ago. Now, tell me exactly...."
Jana closed her eyes the better to concentrate. Every word must be convincing.
"Well, she was-it was a surprising talk. She said she knows all about us, that we've had an affair for about a year. She wants a divorce and a settlement-in cash. And you refuse. So, instead of spending her dough tracking us down, she wanted to make a deal with me...."
"A deal? You made a deal with her? After all I've done for you...." He seemed outraged.
"Allis, listen carefully. If I weren't loyal to you, I could get you into an awful mess. But I am loyal and grateful, so I'm spilling the dirty deal to you. Day after tomorrow, Sunday that is-she wants me to have you here. I'm supposed to tell you that I'm going away, leaving town because I'm afraid of her.
"I am instructed to get you into bed for a goodbye party-leaving my door open, so her detectives can catch us in bed together. Then she will have you where she wants you-up the creek.
"So I made believe that I agreed. Imagine, she promised me twelve hundred if I go through with it. But of course, I'm on your side. And I am leaving town. Tomorrow. When they get here Sunday there will be no one in the apartment ... Allis, are you listening?"
"Yes, I hear you. This is the limit?" Then, "Where are you going to go, Jana? It would be best to stay away for some time."
"That's what I think, too. I don't care too much about myself but it would be terrible for you ... And she would get all the money she wants from you."
"What will you do, Jana?" She could see him wiping his sweaty face.
"I'll do what's best for you, Allis. I'm not Coming to work tomorrow, I have to start putting things in order here. I guess I'll take a plane somewhere tomorrow night ... Of course, I'll need some cash to carry me over. A thousand should do me, till I find another job."
"A thousand?" he gasped. "I-I don't know...." , "She offered me twelve hundred; and I'm keeping you out of trouble, Allis. Don't you want me to live decently? I'm hoping we'll get together again somewhere ... I can't even think of not seeing you every day!"
"Well, I do appreciate your loyalty. I'll see what I can do. Where shall I send the check?"
"Allis, no check; that would be a giveaway. Come here to my place, tomorrow at seven, and bring the cash. I can't leave without saying goodbye, Allis," she cooed.
He hesitated. "You quite sure it's safe, Jana? Tomorrow's Saturday; Ada is visiting her sister in Newport, she said....Yes, I guess it's safe. Now Jana, don't worry your pretty little head, I'll be there. And I appreciate what you're doing."
The receiver clicked on the other end. She dropped the plastic instrument in its cradle, sighing gratefully. She had found the right words, he would be there. Caught in the trap. And she would remain loyal, in his eyes.
He'd accuse his despicable wife, and who wouldn't, couldn't, implicate Jana....
CHAPTER TEN
Hello, is this Tom Bradden?" Jana was sitting on the edge of the bed in a small but comfortable room at the Lexington hotel, clutching the receiver to her ear.\
"This is he," came the deep, booming voice. "Who's calling?"
He didn't recognize her voice, she hadn't impressed him that much. Maybe this was a mistake, a wasted call. "Not too flattering, I thought you'd recognize my voice. I give you three guesses," giggled Jana.
There was a pause of stupefaction. "Could it be-is that you, little Jana, sweet child?" . "It's me all right, Tom. And I'm not calling you from my place. I-I can't go back there. It's awful...."
"What is? What's the trouble, Honey Child?"
"There was trouble with Allis' wife. I'm through with Allis. He-he acted despicably ... I want to forget. In fact, I've decided on a little trip, to clear the air for new opportunities ... so I thought I'd take a little plane trip-to Dallas, maybe...." Would he bite?
He did. "Excellent idea. But Houston would be better. I could fly over, meet your plane. When are you arriving? You don't have to worry, the Mrs. is safely in Europe. That gives Papa time to play."
"Well, I thought I'd catch a plane tomorrow afternoon. Only, I'm a little short...."
"Where shall I wire you the fare?"
Quick on the uptake, that boy. "I'm at the Lexington Hotel, in New York. And I do appreciate it, Tom. I'll pay you back when I have a job."
"Never mind, I'll take it out in trade," boomed his voice. "Phone me here at the office when your plane gets to Houston." She heard the faint smack of his kissing lips.
"Thank you, Tom, I felt you were for me."
She put down the receiver and stretched out on the bed, feeling simply wonderful, congratulating herself on knowing how to pick her man. Tom Bradden was a rather appealing brute; she might even, in her own limited way, get some pleasure out of the association.
She stared at the three brand-new matching pieces of luggage, not sorry that she had chosen the most expensive. If you look poor, they treat you poorly. Now she could relax and get some rest. She was quite safe; Allis thought she'd left town with his thousand, and Ada didn't care; she had Allis where she wanted hint-against the wall.
Funny what good planning could accomplish. She would always plan carefully, she decided, never be caught short. She only hoped Tom would send enough to cover her hotel bill. Tonight she would buy herself a fine steak dinner, maybe even take in a show.
I really should let Maw know, she thought. But then, there was no use creating more excitement; she would only have to explain, invent more lies-
Closing her eyes, she relived the exciting drama that had unfolded in her apartment two short days ago; kaleidoscopic pictures flashed across her mental screen....
She was putting undies into one grip, the two others gaping open half-filled, when Allis arrived. The jittery little man closed the door and put on the safety chain.
"I don't think I was followed." He seemed out of breath. "I walked up." He stared at her youthful loveliness; she looked prettier than ever in her pale-rose slack suit. "Sweetheart, come to Papa."
She went into his embrace and he held her close, showering moist kisses on her lips. "I shall miss you."
She freed herself and gazed at him with doleful eyes. "I'll be simply lost without you. I thought maybe I'd go to Atlantic City; it's not crowded this time of year. And you could reach me there by phone."
He sank into a deep chair. "That's a good idea. When are you leaving? Better take a plane. There's a little hotel off the Boardwalk, the Sylvan; it's not expensive."
I'm through hiding in holes, she thought, hating him. "I'll try and go there. Oh Allis, I've been so worried. And I'm sorry that I spent all that money you gave me. I-I wanted to dress up pretty for you."
"That's right, I almost forgot." He fumbled for his wallet, counted out ten hundred-dollar bills and held them out. "Here, put this away, keep it in a sale place. Later on, when all this mess is cleared up, we'll see what we can do."
Her greedy hand clutched the bills. "I'll put them with my papers. Thank you, Allis." She went into the bedroom and hid the bills in an old purse, shoving it away back into the deep closet.
It was a quarter to seven, she must get things rolling. Ada had called an hour ago; they would arrive at seven-thirty. She returned to the living room where Allis, slumped in his chair, was gazing fixedly at the wall.
"Darling, don't you want me?" She sat on his lap, kissing his mouth, pulling his ears.
He chuckled. "I never saw you so anxious, Jana." While he was getting out of his clothes, she removed the bedspread. And now her blouse and slacks, beneath which was only Jana.
She felt jittery, her eyes on the alarm that stood on the night table. She lay down on the sheets and he came to her, his heavy body touching her slimness. As his hand reached for one luscious apple, she jumped up.
"Wait, stay where you are. I got some water boiling, I'm just going to turn it off." Making sure that he didn't move, she went into the kitchen for a moment. Then she went up to the door and unlatched the safety chain.
"Here I am!" She bounced down on top of him, her arms pinning him down. Her face was half turned, so his features were unrecognizable. She started to caress him, still keeping him a prisoner, her right leg pressed firmly down over his. He was grunting happily....
It happened in a flash, like in the movies.
A tall thin man in tweeds came in, and on his heels, a shorter man. Before Allis could see them, they stood beside the bed. There was a click, a blinding flash.
"Hey, what in the world-how?" Allis tried to cover himself with the sheet, but the men already were at the door.
"Thank you, Mr. Robler, Miss Galen. See you in court."
Jana was huddled at the foot of the bed, shaking, while Allis frantically climbed into his trousers.
"How did she know? You told me it was for tomorrow...." He stood before her, his face a mask of fury. He shook her, and she screamed.
"Don't you dare touch me," she sobbed. "I'm ruined. She'll kill me!"
"Nonsense. She's got me where she wants me. I'd better get out of here, see my lawyers."
In his haste and worry he didn't even stop to wonder how they'd gotten the door open. She had counted on that, too.
Now he was all dressed and at the door.
"Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?" He gave her a hurried kiss and stalked out.
She put on the chain, sat down and laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. It had worked out even better than she had hoped. And Ada had the good taste not to show. Now what? Should she risk spending the night here? Why not, they wouldn't worry about her.
She finished packing and put everything to rights in the place. For she had decided that she would return here after a few weeks with Tom Bradden in Dallas.
The following day, at ten a.m., she checked in at the Lexington. It was a big place and Allis never came-near it. She waited till Monday morning, then turned Ada's check in for a batch of American Express checks. Her bank account was safe.
Jana decided not to let Anna know about her whereabouts. Later, when she was back Irom her trip, she would repay the girl with a nice dinner. Women talked too much. Not her, of course, and maybe not Ada.
There was nothing in the papers, no pictures of her and Allis. Ada didn't have to resort to cheap publicity; it was all a legal hassle which Ada would win. She almost felt sorry for Allis, so trusting.
But when she recalled his sweaty body, the filthy things he made her do, she felt that it would teach him a lesson. Men of his caliber were asking for it. In fact, all men were asking to be taken by smart girls, like herself. Well, it was a pleasure to take them over. Sure, she would be putting out, but she always would see to it that she received double.
Wild elation surged through her, and she thought of Beppo. He had been so right! Evil was as great a power in this world as good. The way it looked to her, even greater.
I've come a long way, she thought. No more lumpy mattresses and bargain basements for this little girl I could have gone to Philadelphia ... The thought was intriguing: find Beppo and tell him what a louse he is. Show off my lovely clothes. But her heart whispered: then maybe he won't be able to resist me, maybe he'll take me to his heart.
Then she laughed, loud and long, at this sentimental slush. He would have to come to her and beg on his knees. If you ran after a man, he ran away. That was one of the rules of this cat and mouse game-one that would never change. Smart girls like Jana knew every move of that game.
When she returned to her hotel, after a nice dinner, Tom's money was waiting for her. She had made the right move, was on the winning team now....
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I've got it made, thought Jana, wheeling the sleek-winged white Cadillac down the street. Carefully, because she really oughtn't to drive alone, having only a learner's permit. Tom usually was with her, giving her commands in a jovial, booming voice which revealed all his zest for life. "Keep to the right, honey." Then: "You almost sideswiped that Ford." And finally, during the past week: "You're doing fine, just fine, honey."
He was to be at her apartment around six to take her to dinner, had left the Caddy in a parking lot, preferring to take a cab downtown. It was a grey November day, and Jana felt a stranger in the strange town. She disliked Houston, thought its people provincial, was not impressed by the Esper-son budding and other skyscrapers. Besides, Tom kept her hidden away as if she had the plague. "Why am I stuck away in that Town House, Tom? I've been here almost two weeks, and you haven't even taken me downtown."
They were having dinner at a little restaurant near her apartment, a kind of cottagy place with elderly couples solemnly eating chicken dinner, the specialty of the house.
"Well, honey, Houston's a big city, but it's not as big as New York. If I walked you downtown, we'd run smack bang into some of Elaine's friends. I intended to take you to the house, I'm just rolling around in those twelve rooms like an empty bottle in a barrel," his laughter boomed. "But, my daughter may be dropping in on me any day; she's studying in Chicago. And you wouldn't want that."
Why wouldn't I? she thought, feeling slighted. Was she unclean, or what? She wanted to be seen, wanted to be stared at in her lovely new leopard coat-a gift from Tom.
"As you say, Tom." She picked at her chicken, watching his smooth grey head. She found him very much to her taste, a vast improvement on dumpy Allis. He had a fine sense of humor, and a way of putting her in her place, so she always knew where she stood.
He paid the check and led her to the car. "Shall we take a little ride before going back?"
She got in and he started the car without waiting for her answer. They drove down tree-lined alleys out of town, stopped at a shabby roadhouse where Tom ordered setups, spiking them with bourbon from his flask. It was a backward town; you had to bring you own liquor to whatever nightclub you went.
After a few drinks they drove back to the Town House. Her apartment was neat and compact, white and yellow were the predominating colors. There was a small living room, a cell of a bedroom-it held a bed with little space around it-and an even tinier bathroom. It contained all the necessary appurtenances, not one foot of extra space.
"It's like a ship," Jana had said, blushing when he asked whether she'd ever been on one.
"No, not really; but I have some imagination."
He laughed. "Some day, when I make a killing in the market, I'll take you on a cruise."
Tom Bradden was an intriguing and often puzzling personality. He wasn't easy to read, too suave and polished, she never knew whether he was mocking her or paying her a compliment. She even paid attention when he found fault with her. As on her second day in Houston, after their first and only whole night together. Jane had been happy; she liked-his slow, tender lovemaking, felt sheltered in his arms.
That morning as she fixed breakfast, while he was shaving and singing way in the bathroom, she even allowed herself the thought that marriage to a man like Tom Bradden would be a very fine thing indeed. He was no dull clod like Allis, his conversation was amusing, even brilliant. Yes, she could learn a lot from Tom, listening and improving her speaking habits.
He emerged from the bathroom, smelling fresh and clean, wearing a white shirt and brown tie that matched his brown trousers.
"I'm starved!" He grabbed her in his arms, held her close. "My little Jana, there's mighty little of you, honey child; but what there is, is sweet."
His lips touched hers delicately and beneath the black-winged brows his deep-blue eyes twinkled with merriment.
"Your eggs will be cold." She preceded him to the little dinette, poured his coffee and watched him eat, while she nibbled at a piece of toast.
"Hm, excellent! My little Jana treats a man well-in and out of bed." He threw her a roguish glance, then frowned. "Aren't you overdoing things, child?" He didn't elaborate, just stared at her stilly mascaraed lashes. "What will you do when you're forty? Far be it for me to tell you what to do, but if I were a sweet young thing with a wonderful, flawless complexion and natural silky lashes, I wouldn't put on all that gook."
She didn't say a word, but lowered her lids to hide her tears. After he drove off, she went into the bathroom and stared long and hard at her face. Then she did a thorough creaming job, admitting that Tom had been right. All she used from that morning on was a film of powder on her cute nose, and lip rouge.
After one week, she felt lonely; she wanted Tom to spend all his nights with her. He tactfully explained that this was not feasible. There were banquets he had to attend, business meetings lasting far into the night.
"Why can't I model for Dallas Coats?" They were having dinner at another small place, Jana watched his hand stirring the coffee. "I want to earn my keep." She giggled, although she was serious about it.
"You're my very welcome guest, Jana. I thought about having you work at my place. You'd be quite an asset," he smiled into her solemn eyes. "But it won't do. Besides, I have my quota of models; you wouldn't want me to fire one of them to put you on."
And why not, what the hell do I care about them? she felt like spitting at him. The Jana from Robler's would have said it. She just shook her head, looking sad. "I just feel lonesome, alone all day," she brought out.
"I'll bring you some books."
And he did. But they were not to Jana's taste; heavy tomes, mainly historical novels. At a drug store she acquired a cargo of paperbacks, gorged her brain with sex and murder.
She also bought a dictionary, selecting interesting and big-sounding words, memorizing them like mad, later to sprinkle them into her conversation. The endeavor that proved a complete failure. As when she assured Tom, listening to one of his off-color jokes: "You're a marvelous racounter, dear."
Tom frowned, stared at her, and burst out laughing. "My artful Jana. Raconteur's the word. Don't the big words when you're not sure what they mean-or how they're to be pronounced. Story-teller would do," he assured her, patting her red cheek.
After this she used the big nice-sounding words only when alone; she had been horribly humiliated. Days followed days, Tom spending a few hours with her, then leaving her to her paperbacks and little neighborhood shopping sprees. He was not stingy; he bought her the leopard coat and two-expensive suits from Dallas Coats, as well as several filmy nightgowns. Jana didn't hint about diamonds. For once she felt rather satisfied; he treated her like a lady. He had been very tactful, inquiring about Allis Robler and what caused her to leave New York.
"Oh, Allis became quite unbearable. Scared to death of that wife of his; she had him trailed. I guess she's got the divorce by now, and the settlement she was after. She came to see me, even threatened me." That was all the explanation she gave, and he didn't ask for more. She told him that she was keeping on the apartment. "So, when you come to New York on a buying trip, you'll have a home away from home," she said. She had appropriated the expression from a paperback.
"Tha's very generous of you, Jana, but I always stay at the Statler. Got to stay there on account of business," he added.
Jana drove downtown without mishap and parked the car in the Rice Hotel lot, feeling like a guilty school girl. But she would tell Tom tonight about her derring-do-a new word she loved, and dared not use in his presence. As she got out of the car, a red sports car-some foreign make, she thought-came to a stop next to the Caddy.
She saw a willowy brunette take the parking ticket from the attendant. There was a large diamond on the slim hand-surely it was an engagement ring-and felt envious. This girl, obviously of a wealthy family, belonged; she was expensively but simply dressed in a beige tailored coat with a band of lynx running down the front. A tiny felt hat of matching color sat far back on the light-brown curls, framing the fine-featured lace. They were staring at each other; her deep-blue eyes fixed Jana with an odd expression, then she walked up and asked politely:
"Pardon me, is this your car?" Her hand pointed at the Caddy.
Jana was startled, felt guilty. She smiled. "Well no, fact is, it belongs to a friend. He left it at my place and took a cab. I got bored, so I drove downtown."
"I understand perfectly. I asked because it looked like a friend's car." Again that odd smile, and the eyes sizing her up. "Are you visiting here?"
"Yes, I'm from New York. And I get lonesome. I don't know many people."
The girl frowned at her. "I was going to have tea here in the Rice. I'm alone, too. So how about letting me do the honors? On second thought, a drink seems more interesting."
Jana felt touched, and attracted to this self-assured young woman of breeding. "Thanks, I'd like that very much."
They walked into the cool lounge; at this time of day only two tables were occupied. The girl led the way to a corner table. "Suit you?" Jana nodded, and they sank upon the leather banquette. "By the way, my name is Felice-" there was a slight hesitation-"Felice Drury." She looked expectantly at Jana.
"I'm Jana Galen, and I'm very pleased to meet you."
The waiter was at their table. "What would you like? It's a bit early, but I'm going to have a martini. No olive," the girl instructed the waiter.
"Sounds good."
They were covertly appraising one another. Jana felt awed and pleased with her new friend. She must be older than I, she thought, she has such poise. And she's wearing the kind of pearls I want
"How do you like our town?" inquired Felice. "It's dull, a place where money is made. Of course the money is not spent here, but in Paris, Miami, or on the Riviera."
"It's not as exciting as New York, that's for sure." confirmed Jana. "And if it weren't for Tom-" she bit her lip, and paused."
The girl seemed interested. "Tom? Is that your-friend, the owner of the Cadillac?"
Jana nodded. "He's a businessman, hasn't got time enough tor me. But I take things as they come. You live here?"
"Yes and no. My people live here, and in Dallas. I'm studying in Chicago. I'm in pre-med."
Jana's eyes grew round. Luckily, she knew the word. "You mean, you're going to be a doctor?" It seemed inconceivable that this dainty creature wanted to mess around with blood, cut people up and fool with their untidy innards. "You're too pretty for that."
The girl chuckled. "Thanks, but that's what I'm going to be. It's a long haul-years. But when I set out to do something, I do it."
She stared at Jana, as if to impress upon her the meaning of the words. "I insist to lead my own life. I made my debut and was bored to tears with Junior League affairs. Besides, men bore me-they are conceited and dull."
"That's what I think too," concurred Jana. "I wish I had enough brains to be something important-like an engineer or a professor."
"You're the type to make some man an interesting companion," said Felice. "You look awfully young ... I bet you're not even eighteen yet."
"Almost," lied Jana.
"How did you get your family to let you travel all alone to Houston to-visit a boy friend? Do they know?"
No use trying to deceive her, decided Jana. This was a real person, one who'd understand, and maybe could help her to understand herself. "My folks don't know where I am-or with whom. I left them some time ago. I'm on my own. I had a job in New York, but things didn't pan out right. So I invited myself down here."
"Do you like him-your friend? Is he a decent young man who will marry you?"
Jana giggled. "Nothing like that. He's almost as old as my Paw-father, she corrected herself quickly. "Besides, he's not free. But he treats me more decently than I've ever been treated."
Felice ordered another round. "I have a boy friend too," she confessed. "In Chi. A young intern in the City Hospital. Not that he means too much to me. But a girl needs a little sex." She said it as one remarks: T need butter on my bread."
"That's all men want me for-sex." Jana's lips bunched contemptuously. "I wish," she sighed, "somebody, just for once would make a fuss over me without leading me to the bed."
"You would affect a man that, way, any man, no matter how old," said Felice. She chuckled. "If I were a man, I'd want to drag you between the sheets too." Then, as Jana stared at her. "No, I'm no she-she girl, but I've tried it once or twice. And, you know...."
"What?"
"I found it quite exciting. No, nothing long-lasting. Just a quick mutual exploration, a dash of tenderness, and forget about the whole thing."
"I knew this woman in New York," Jana confessed, "Oh, just accidentally, she was a society woman.
Very elegant and smart. She asked me to go to Europe with her-as her paid companion. Can you imagine?"
Felice stared at her and nodded. "Yes, I can. You must have given her a sample."
Jana giggled, feeling fuzzy from the strong drinks. "She really raped me. I never had given girls a thought, and I didn't like her." She hiccoughed. "Know why?"
"I can't imagine."
"Her breasts were like limp rags." Now they both were chuckling.
"Let's get out of here." Felice insisted on paying, and they walked to the parking lot. "Say, it's still early and no one's home. How about letting me follow you home and keep you company till your beau gets there? Don't worry, I'll sneak out in time."
Jana consulted her wrist watch. Just four-thirty, time would drag. "That's a swell idea. It's the Tozun House, apartment 4, in case you lose me."
"I won't lose you," said Felice, getting into her car.
Jana did not drive carefully; the drinks had made her reckless. She almost hit a Chewy, breathed a deep sigh as she overtook it. Felice was right behind her, she must not know that Jana was an inexperienced driver. Her head was swimming; she felt light as a feather, and quite gay.
Felice was the kind of girl she herself aspired to be, or become; suave, well-mannered, intelligent.
That fact that this well-brought-up girl-a real lady-took to her gave her a feeling ol being admitted into the inner circle, to belong where she wanted to belong....
When she arrived at the Town House, Felice was getting out of her car. Jana removed the keys from the ignition. "I'm not supposed to drive without Tom," she admitted. "I just learned to drive."
"I thought as much," Felice tittered. "Did he teach you?"
"Yes. But this is the first time I took it out alone. Come on in."
She felt that she really belonged when Felice took her arm.
"I'm anxious to know all about you, Jana."
CHAPTER TWELVE
It's a nice little place," said Felice, wandering about, "sort of like a ship's cabin."
"Exactly what I told Tom," exclaimed Jana. "Of course I just said it to impress him. I've never been anywhere but New York. And now, here."
"Ah, books!" Felice picked up the topmost paperback and grimaced. " The Road of Vice, not exactly what I'd call good reading. But then, it's always interesting to learn about that road."
"I'm trying to improve my vocabulary. See, A Way With Words. I hate to be so uneducated. I wish I were more like you."
"With your looks, education could prove a hindrance," stated Felice, now inspecting the bedroom. She stared at the unmade bed, the messy sheet. "Aha, your battleground. Is he-is he a good lover, your Tom? Does he satisfy you?"
"I like him better than the others. He doesn't treat me like a tramp."
"Tell me about the others." Felice sat down on the bed, took off her hat and coat and tossed them on a chair. "What kind were they?"
"There were only two. Before Tom there was my boss, a dumpy little man I despised. I met Tom in the place where I worked as a model. I'm a perfect ten," Jana said proudly.
"And, who was the first one?"
Jana sat down on the bed close to Felice. "He was just a boy, a neighborhood hoodlum. But I loved him. He's the only one who will ever mean anything to me," she said with feeling.
"How about Tom, is he crazy about you? He must be, you're such a sweet, sad-eyed kid."
"He is-while it lasts," said Jana wisely. "And I wish I could make it last. But he has a wife who's gone to Europe. She's probably making it with some gigolo on the Riviera."
"Probably. Has he got any children?"
"I think he mentioned a daugher. You know, men don't tell everything to girls like me."
"'Girls like me'! You really have an inferiority complex." Felice took Jana's head between her palms and kissed her on the lips. "Let's hurry, make hay," she said, getting up and stripping before Jana's startled eyes. "Come on, I don't believe you're more than fifteen, prove it to me!"
Jana glanced at the bronzed, queenly figure with the proud, hard breasts. "You're beautiful," she whispered.
"Well, come on then, get your clothes off so I can reciprocate the compliment."
She watched as Jana took off the green dress, the white lace panties and bra. "Keep your girdle on, stockings are more exciting." She picked up the alarm clock and said, "We've got an hour before your friend arrives."
There was a crash as the clock fell to the tile floor. Felice bent to pick up the pieces. "How clumsy of me." She stared at the broken dial. "It's stopped. Too bad, I'll have to get you another one." She threw the bits of glass and plastic into the waste basket.
"My wrist watch has stopped too," said Jana.
"I hate those things," stated Felice. "I'll tell you what, we'll turn on the radio in the living room so we can keep track of the time."
Jana turned it on, then came back and sat down close to Felice on the bed.
"You do look like an over-developed little girl, Jana," giggled Felice, touching one nipple. "Tell me, when this is over-I mean, with Tom-what are your plans? I'm asking because I'm interested in you. Do you intend to make men your-profession?"
"I don't like the way that sounds. I'm going to use men to get all the good things of life, the things you've always had. Maybe one of them-a rich one, of course-will be crazy enough to marry me. I wish that man could be Tom." She sighed.
Felice's eyes a more vivid blue, she stared at Jana, then shrugged and said nonchalantly: "Why don't you try? Has he ever given you any indication?"
Jana shook her head sadly. "He treats me like a dumb little girl. But he's very sweet. I'll bet Tom has known many women. He's wise to their schemes."
"I'll bet he has," chuckled Felice. "Is he generous? If I were in your place, without substantial funds, I would milk these men without mercy."
"Oh, he paid my plane fare." Jana jumped up and slid open the closet door. "Come here, I'll show you." Felice got up and stood behind her. "See, this leopard coat, and these two suits-the black one and the green one-they're gifts." Her fingers touched the pearl necklace Felice was still wearing." Before I let him go, I'm going to get him to give me pearls like yours. They're the real thing, aren't they?" She let their smooth roundness glide through her fingers.
The girl laughed. "Yes, they are the real thing. Do you have anything to drink? I'm parched."
"There's half a bottle of bourbon." Jana walked into the kitchenette. "Want some ice?"
"No, just straight." Felice walked into the living room and turned off the radio. Jana handed her a half-filled water glass.
"Where's yours?"
"Oh, I've had enough. My head's swimming."
"I won't drink alone. I'll drink first, then you finish it." She took a long swallow, handed Jana the glass. "Drinking from the same glass, we'll know each other's thoughts. That's what a friend of mine believes." She watched as Jana drained the glass and put it on the bedside table.
Jana giggled. "I feel as if J had wings-and no head." She stretched out on the bed.
"A headless angel!" Felice lay down beside the other girl. Her fingers gamboled down Jana's front. "Tell me how Tom does it to you. That is what excites me most to have it described in detail. Men make love with their bothes, women with their imagination."
Jana sat up. "That's really true, Felice. That's the only way I can get aroused. It never happens-not now at least. You know, men are funny, they want all kinds of crazy, silly things. I mean married men, like Allis-the one before Tom. He-he liked me to use the belt."
"The belt?"
"Yea, I had to take the belt he wore and hit him. Boy, did I hit him hard! It was a pleasure!"
"You mean you would do almost anything a man asked you ... if the price is right?"
"Hey, stop asking such questions. I'm only a beginner, remember; I'm just eighteen."
"Sorry, Jana." The delicate fingertips danced on Jana's smooth abdomen making her giggle.
"That tickles ... But it tickles good."
"Does Tom tickle you there?" Felice concentrated on the belly button making Jana jump. "And there?"
"I think I hear a car!" Jana jumped up and fumbled for her house coat. "That must be Tom. What are we going to do?"
Felice got up. "I'll just take my things into the bathroom and get dressed. Is there a backdoor?"
Jana shook her head, hearing the living room door opening. "Get into the bathroom, quick. I'll make up some story. You're a friend from New York. Here." she picked up Felice's clothes, took her into the badnoom and closed the connecting door.
She was drawing the comb through her hair when Tom came in. His sharp eyes didn't miss a trick-the mussed bed, Jana's flushed face.
"What's going on here? Am I too early?"
Jana turned. "Oh, nothing. I was bored, so-" her eyes centered on the empty glass-"I finished the bottle. I guess I'm a bit looped. Darling!" She threw her arms about him and kissed his mouth.
He took away her hands. "You smell like a rummy. Who's been here? Come on, answer me. It's no use lying." He shook her arms. Then he spied the beige felt hat on the chair. "Why are you acting so guilty, if it's only a girl? He went over and picked up the hat. "Who is she, and where is she?"
The bathroom door opened to reveal Felice, fully dressed. Tom stood nailed to the spot, the hat dropped to the floor as he stared at the girl.
"Hi, Dad!"
Jana sat down on the bed, feeling faint. Her eyes went from Tom to Felice, she wished she were far away.
He quickly regained his composure. "What are you doing here, Felice? You're supposed to be in Chicago."
"For once, I'll ask the questions, Dad," said Felice nonchalantly.
"You'd better get home. I'll join you shortly. I have certain matters to discuss in private. He ignored Jana completely who sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, getting madder by the minute.
"I know you're anxious to find out what I'm doing here, so I'll tell you. It's one of those once-in-a-lifetime coincidences that happen in novels. Your girl friend had your car, I immediately recognized it in the Rice parking lot. You know, that blue angel on the hood is a giveaway."
"You had no permission to take the car, Jana," his voice was stern.
"Never mind that," said Felice, enjoying herself. "You should entertain your girl friends and keep them entertained, Dad. She was lonely and I invited her to have a few drinks. You know, I under-rated you. This one's much more attractive than those other little tramps.
"Shut up! How dare you?" shrieked Jana, leaping to her feet. Tom gave her a shove, and she landed on the bed.
"She's jail-bait, Dad, in case you didn't know. And she was quite willing to do some dallying with me. All her little heart desires before she says goodbye is a string of pearls-like mine."
Jana jumped up from the bed, her eyes glittering. "You tricked me, it's you who are a cheap little tramp! I really liked you...."Her hand shot out, and she slapped Felice's cheek. "Get out of my apartment! Go on, beat it!"
Felice picked up her hat and purse. "Coming, Dad? I think we'd better have a talk-a private one."
Tom looked at Jana standing there, hands on her bony hips, bare feet wide apart. "You shouldn't have hit my daughter, Jana."
"Go on, get out, both of you. Even if she is your daughter she's nothing but a cheap tramp! She's having a cheap affair with some guy!"
"Come on, Felice." Tom Bradden took his daughter's arm and they left, without another look at Jana.
In a fit of range, she tossed the glass against the wall. It splintered into bits. The empty bottle followed. Then she threw herself across the bed and sobbed herself into sobriety.
She knew this was the end of her affair with Tom Bradden. And all on account of that lousy, highbrow daughter of his. Playing up to her, getting her to tell all she wanted to find out. Yea, that's why the alarm was busted, she dropped it on purpose so Jana would forget about the time. A shrewdie. And she thought her a cheap hussy, unworthy to share her father's bed....
And she, Jana, had wanted to be like her! So that is how well-bred people, people who belonged, acted. Despicable, cheaper than the cheapest tramp. Never again would she get involved with that kind. Yes, a gutter tramp she was, and would remain. From now on, beware you wealthy bastards; here comes Jana Galen who'll take your last cent, bleed you white, ruin you, and walk away laughing.
A limp, sobbing bundle, she lay on the bed planning her next move, which was to take a plane, train, or bus back to New York....
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
During her flight back to New York, Jana planned soberly, yet feverishly. Darkly, she knew that she wasn't the same girl who'd been almost ready to become a solid, respectable citizen.
Well, she decided, I've learned a lesson; someday, somehow, I'll pay them back. There were-as Beppo had shrewdly pointed out a long time ago-two sharply opposed worlds. One was reserved for those of the right birth and money-big money. Then, there was the seamy underworld, a dark cauldron of evil, composed of the non-privileged constantly in revolt. For her, born in gutter twilight, there was no other way up and out except through the power of evil.
She took mental inventory of her assets. She was pretty, and her youth aroused the protective instincts of men. She had nearly four thousand dollars in cash, besides the valuable lease on her apartment.
Of course, she'd have to fork out the enormous rent. She owned two fur coats-no mink, but she was too young for that anyway. Her wardrobe was excellent, inside and out. Now, how best to make use of her assets without digging into her capital?
She had no special talents, and it would take too much time to develop them. To make the climb she would have to exploit men-carefully-selected men of standing and influence. Right now, moneyed men were her target. And modeling was an excellent way to meet such men.
Too bad she couldn't go back to work for Robler. Or could she? Best way to find out was to contact Anna. Most likely Tom Bradden would keep his mouth shut about his fling with her; but then, who knows? Allis and Tom were buddies, they might compare notes about her charms. Well, there were other dress wholesalers! She closed her eyes and dozed until the voice of the stewardess woke her up.
"Fasten your seatbelts, please."
In Houston, New York had looked wonderful; but on this cold, blustery November night Jana wished she had gone to some Southern resort, like Miami.
However, when she closed the door of her apartment and switched on all the lights, she knew that this was home. She walked into the white-and-gold bedroom; it would give her status with any man of standing. Then there was that extra room, furnished with a couch; if necessary she could rent it, and in this neighborhood it would bring a fancy price. She passed a disgusted finger tip over the thick coat of dust that had gathered on the furniture, decided she would have to do a thorough cleaning job. But not tonight; nothing tonight but bed.
However after a long hot bath she felt wide awake, and ready-for what? There was no friend she could call and get a 'welcome-home'. There was a place she could visit, not to stay-her folks. For over three weeks she hadn't given them a thought.
She picked out a grey suit she never had liked for her mother, suddenly worried about how things were going for her. Her father didn't rate even a thought. Yes, she decided, getting into her black dress, she would descend on the old neighborhood. It would be depressing enough to kill any scruples about her future. She wore Robler's black fur coat, and no make up. She was startled by the pallor of her face which looked thinner.
The long subway ride put her in a bad mood, and as she rang the bell she decided to stay just a few minutes. There was no answer. Oppressed by the stagnant air of the hallway, she was about to leave when the door opened and her father, clad in dirty-grey B.V.D.'s, stood in the door. He had always looked sloppy and horrible, but never like this. His hair was wild and his face, always splotchy and bloated, seemed to have caved in.
Without a word of greeting, he stepped aside to let her in. She closed the door, leaning against it. Her nostrils contracted; the stench was horrible, as if wild animals were caged here. The air was filtered with dust which lay on the bare table, the chairs and window sills. Without curtains, the room looked despoiled, naked.
"Better open a window, Paw, it smells bad." She walked over and opened the two windows, now facing him. "Where's Maw?"
He stared at her like a dumb animal and shook his head. "You didn't bother while she was alive. It's too late to bother now." He slumped onto the couch, fixing her with rheumy eyes.
Jana felt sick. It couldn't be-it just couldn't. Her lips opened to ask why she hadn't been told.
"Your Maw wanted to see you awful bad...."
Jana dropped the package on the table. Too late, everything was too late. Her throat felt tight. She sat down on the couch and her hand moved out to touch his arm, but she stopped it. "How-when-"
"Last Friday. She couldn't breathe, was choking. I was-down the street. When I got back she was blue in the face, a rattle came from her throat. Mrs. Biggs got the doctor. It was pneumonia. Three hours later she was dead. She had a little money saved up, and I hocked everything in sight to bury her. A third class funeral, it was."
A third class funeral for third class people. Jana felt nothing but bitterness. And look at him, filthy and unkempt. "Down the street" meant he had been at Lucky Jones, drinking up her money. Now he was holed up in this filthy hole, with nothing coming in to pay the rent.
Their eyes met, and dully she wondered why she felt nothing but revulsion for this man who was the cause for her being alive. Yet atone time-a very long time ago-her mother must have found him attractive.
"What you goin' to do, Paw?"
He shrugged. "I been feeling bad, real bad. Haven't hardly been eating. Now if I had had a few bucks, I could get my good suit cleaned and get a job." He didn't ask where she had been, or with whom; all he wanted from her was money.
She opened her purse, took out a twenty and put it on the couch. "I can't spare more, I lost my job." His dirty hand grabbed the bill. She got up. "I better be going." He stared at her with a lost look on his dilapidated face. He had been lost ever since she remembered, she couldn't afford any pity. She walked to the door.
"Ain't you going to give your Paw a hug?"
"First, you get washed. I'll be back. And you'd better stretch that twenty."
She was out of the door, closing it softly. Dashing down the stairs, she halted breathlessly in the hallway. Never, she told herself, never will I be back. If she let him know where she lived, he might want to move in with her, into that white and gold bedroom! The thought nauseated her.
Outside, she took a deep breath; the cold air felt wonderful. Her mother was better off wherever she was. Yes, this was a warning; never would she, Jana, end up like that. She started walking and walked a long time, recalling the few times of closeness with the dead woman. But there really had never been an understanding between them.
Why she came to halt at the corner beer joint, she never knew. Wouldn't it be something if she walked in, and Beppo sat at the bar? But, who cares about Beppo? She shook off the thought; she really needed a quick drink, then home and to bed. She took one step and halted, hearing a voice she'd heard before.
"Well, if it isn't little Jana? No use, he's not inside, lover boy Beppo."
She turned; the voice came from a low-slung, black limousine parked close by at the curb. Big Sam's ball-head was leaning out the window, grinning horribly. Of course it wasn't his car. A man with a snap-brim hat was behind the wheel.
"Can we take you home? My friend here, Mr. Mattnick, wouldn't mind."
"Delighted." It was a mellow, cultured voice and Jana took one step toward the car, peeking into the semi-darkness. "I guarantee safe-conduct, little lady." The man's teeth glistened white in the darkness.
"Meet my legal adviser, Miss Jana ... Galen wasn't it?" said Sam. "Fact is, Benny and I were just on our way to have a bite. Benny don't patronize any joints. So, be our guest."
Well, why not? A lawyer was college-bred, and no riff-raff, although, dealing with Big Sam he must be a shyster. "Thanks a lot, I don't mind."
As Benny got out and came around to open the car door for her, she spotted the natty suit and gleaming shoes. He couldn't be much over forty. "You'll be more comfortable in the back seat."
She slid inside and he closed the door. He got in behind the wheel, eased the car away from the curb.
"Haven't seen you around, Jana. What brings you back to the old stamping grounds? Homesick?" asked Sam.
"You might call it that." Jana decided not to mention her iolks. "Just got back to town. I was visiting in Houston. It's a dull place."
"I should say so," Benny spoke up. "There is nothing like New York. Loads of opportunities, if you see them," he said mysteriously. "I had no idea friend Sam here had such an attractive lady friend."
She opened her mouth to say tartly that Sam was just a casual acquaintance, but found it better not to. Who knows, this Benny lawyer might have the right connections, put her on to something good.
They had dinner at an expensive Italian place off Lexington, plenty of Chianti and succulent lasagna, with Benny's peppery wit an added attraction. He was really good-looking; that is, he would have been attractive if his features hadn't been so sharp, and his black eyes so piercing. Oozing aggressiveness, he was direct and to the point.
"You know, you're just the type of girl I've been searching for."
"What type?"
"The hard-to-find type; young, attractive, naive-looking, but plenty on the ball." He took a sip of Chianti. "You'd do just fine."
"You said it, Benny," beamed Sam.
Jana was on her guard. Whatever his proposition, it wouldn't be kosher. But it wouldn't hurt to listen.
"What's the proposition?" Jana sensed the word 'job' wouldn't cover this.
"Interested?" Benny's laugh was a smirk; his lips hardly moved. "01 course, it's no nine-to-five job; that you could get yourself. It's an occasional job, if you want to call it that. And you get paid each time. Cash. No social security number required."
"What the job, Mr. Mattnick?"
"Call me Benny. Well, although I'm a criminal lawyer, quite often my activities cover other territory. Like divorce cases, investigations. I mean, cases where one party has to catch his partner in flagrante, in this state that's the only way to obtain a divorce. So if the client is willing to pay the fee, and both parties want to cut the legal knot, one partner-usually the husband in the case-is found cozily tucked in bed with a female somebody." Then, seeing her worried look: "No, not in the altogether", a cute nightie, or even pajamas are admissible. There's no publicity, just being found in bed by the proper deputy is all that is required.
Jana stared at Benny and burst out laughing. History was repeating itself. Ada Robler had been a proper initiation.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh, I was just thinking of a friend of mine," smiled Jana. "He had it done to him."
"In that case you know there is no trouble," concluded Benny. "Of course, it's not a steady pay check. But at the moment, as it happens, I have three cases. It pays a hundred per case."
Jana tried to think. It was nothing steady, but there were three hundred dollars all ready and waiting. Later on she could always get a modeling job. Maybe Benny could help; obviously he was a guy with connections.
She looked into the obsidian eyes. "When is the first case coming up?"
"Good. Smart girl. I can have it arranged for this Thursday. You'd better come to my office tomorrow-shall we say at four?" He took out his wallet, produced a card and set it beside her glass. "Here's my card. I'm in the Wall Street district."'
"This calls for a drink, and I mean whiskey." Sam ordered bourbon for everybody. He also paid the check, and Jana wondered from what tightcorner Benny had rescued him.
As Benny helped Jana out of the car at her apartment' entrance, he whistled. "You got the right idea, Jana. A front is all important. Until tomorrow...."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
"Such pulchritude, accompanied by brains; and also a wonderful cook." Benny leaned back in the grey tufted chair, sipping an after-dinner brandy.
Jana sat on the couch, her dark eyes animated, her cheeks rosy from the cooking effort. "This is the first dinner I've cooked for you in six months."
"Is it six months since Sam introduced us? Biggest favor Sam ever did me." His white teeth Hashed. Eyes half-closed, he surveyed the childish face. Smart girl, he thought, wearing a simple cotton dress. Not trying to play seductress. Any other wench would have greeted me in a gauzy, transparent gown.
"You've done remarkably well, Jana. There is no sentimental mawkishness about you. Surprising, for one so young to be so hard."
Jana noted the word 'mawkishness' as she had imprinted 'pulchritude' on her mind, to be looked up later when alone.
"You explained exactly what my job was, 'and how to proceed. I just followed orders," she smiled. "I really enjoy it, when they erupt and catch you in bed. Like in the movies; only acting it out is much better than watching."
"Also, more profitable. Let me see, during these six months you've had ten cases. A thousand net. Not bad for a little under-age girl."
Jana's lips bunched; she hated to be reminded of her age. Besides, she knew as much as a woman of thirty, was as disillusioned as one of forty. Life was easy, without worries. Also, without sentimental involvements. In fact, for the past six months she'd led a chaste life. She gazed speculatively at Benny, the picture of quiet elegance in his navy double-breasted suit. His hair shone like black shoe-polish. It matched his eyes. The thought made her giggle.
"Does my appearance give cause for ridicule?"
She never had gotten used to his stilted way of speaking, but she rather liked it. Every time they were together, she learned new and interesting words. And when she sprinkled them later into her conversation, Benny never mocked her. Today, as many times before, it puzzled her that he never made advances. From what she knew about his life, there was no other girl.-And she sensed that he liked her as a person, not just a body that could be bought.
"You're always so correct, Benny. I was wondering if you wear starched pajamas."
He looked at her long and hard. "At the proper time you'll find out, Jana. I'm glad you're not throwing yourself at a man, blinded by sentiment you mistake for passion. You're cool, collected and utterly delightful to me.
It was the greatest compliment he'd ever paid her, and it pleased her immensely.
"I know you're wondering why I haven't tried to 'make you', as the vulgar expression goes. Let me explain. To my way of thinking there are three climates of emotion: cold, lukewarm, and hot. A person behaves emotionally and sentimentally according to the category he belongs to. No use for a cold-tempered man to wax affectionate; he'll only delude himself, and even worse, he'll be found out. I have a feeling that both you and I are cold, emotionally invulnerable. Which is the best that can happen-if one wants to succeed. For, in our case the sex drive is sublimated into a power drive."
She listened hard, trying to get his meaning.
"Sorry I'm using bookish words, Jana. But now is the time to tell you about myself. I'm a cold man, emotionally shock-proof. But watch out; when a cold character becomes passionate, it's ice and fire all in one."
Was he finally getting to it, propositioning her, telling her what not to expect?
He read her thoughts. "This is not a proposition, Jana; that may come later. Right now, there is some new business I want to discuss."
"You mean, no more beddy-beddy?"
"Not in the near future. I don't want my name linked with too many such cases; I have a certain standing to uphold, and I don't care to be labeled professionally as a divorce chaser."
"I understand, Benny. What do you have in mind for me?" Jana wondered whether she'd have to go back to modeling. The thought was not too attractive; she was accustomed to sleeping late.
"Think you can handle a job as a file clerk?"
Jana's eyebrows rose. It sounded like a dull job, buried in long law reports. "I-I've never done office work." Her voice sounded flat.
"Well then, how would you like to be kind of a receptionist-on the telephone? Excellent chance to enlarge your vocabulary."
"But-I'd have to know how to handle that board."
"A switchboard, you mean." He smiled benevolently. "The office I have in mind has a very simple switchboard, no plugs to push in and confuse you. It is an important law firm with whom I do business-Auchincloss, Lipsky & Auchincloss. They only handle important cases. Who knows, one of those troubled millionaires may take you to dinner."
Although he made it sound attractive, Jana was not too enthusiastic. It still seemed dull to her, less attractive than modeling gowns. "But why me? I've no office experience."
His voice was sharp. "You're not dumb. Besides, I have a very special reason. I may want to use you in a criminal case as an alibi witness. Suppose my client is accused of a serious offense-say, murder. He is released as the result of your testimony that he was with you at the time the murder was committed, it would be worth a lot of money to him."
She understood perfectly. All she had to do was perjure herself. It frightened her, but only for a moment. Benn Mattnick wouldn't attempt the impossible; with him a hood was well represented.
"What do you mean, a lot of money?"
"Depends on the seriousness of the offense. Nothing under five hundred, more likely two thousand."
Jana gasped. For that much money she would be willing to swear to anything.
"Don't forget, jobs of that kind don't go begging. I'm getting you into that office. Of course, it's nine to five, and your take-home pay will be sixty dollars a week."
"When you want me to start?"
"That's more like it, Jana. I'll see them tomorrow. Maybe in a week or two. You must wear no make up, dress simply," he added.
"I understand," said Jana. She never knew how much talking it had taken, on Benny's part, to convince Auchincloss, the senior partner. He had agreed only when Benny pointed out that Jana would mean another tax deduction for the firm.
"So now you can get me another slug of brandy, girl."
She took his glass, replenished it, watched him slowly sip it. He put the glass on the low table.
"I think it would be nice if we tried a kiss. We may discover that we aren't compatible." His arms reached out, he grabbed her and set her on his lap.
"Mmm, you smell delicious." His hands patted the shiny hair, now worn short. She closed her eyes as he kissed her, lightly at first, then with increasing pressure. An electric current sprang from him to her, she felt the overwhelming strength of his repressed desire.
When he released her, she drew back and laughed. "I can feel the fire, and also the ice of will# power that won't ever let you burn up and be consumed."
"Your oratorical powers amaze me. Let's have another sample before the ice melts in the flame."
This was the first of many kisses, they eventually wound up in the white and gold bedroom.
He was like an erupting volcano, carrying her along with the smoldering lava of his passionate outburst, surprising her by his potency. Carried away by the impetus, she felt a wild longing for this man whose astuteness she so admired.
His lean, muscular body was an agreeable surprise; she had thought him soft and flabby, but there was not an ounce of fat on his spare limbs. Delighting in the slim, almost immature body with the womanly breasts, he worked up slowly to climactic ecstasy, making certain that she shared his excitement.
She let herself go, knowing that this was passion and had nothing to do with the heart. No show of sentiment or affection was demanded, nor given; they were two bothes, attracted to one another, seeking only to give and to receive release. Detached, a spectator, she watched his expression closely. It was like watching an exciting play in which she was involved, but not one of the actors. They gave only what they wanted to give, each retaining their personality inviolate. It was only a temporary loan, to be repaid when the fire had cooled.
When he left, at three in the morning, his kiss was light and almost impersonal. "We must do this more often, little Jana. Thanks for giving me so much pleasure."
After he'd gone Jana did not go back to bed. 'She sat on a kitchen chair, making a glass of milk last. Something was different about Benny Mattnick. She was unaware of it, but he was the first man in her life whom she really respected. She looked up to him; he was educated, college-bred, associating with the kind of people she wanted to meet. He was acceptable in every way.
But aside from that, he had the sharpness and ruthlessness of a gutter rat. No one, no gangster, could put anything over on him. Because he's three-quarters gangster himself, she told herself, and laughed. The curious combination appealed to her, for she yearned to become what he was: socially acceptable, her ruthlessness well hidden by a veneer of good manners. But ready for anything-even to perjure herself.
She was well aware that Benny intended to use her for his own schemes. Well, she would let him use her, as long as it feathered her own nest. He left no money on the mantel, but she knew that somehow she'd be paid for giving him pleasure the way he wanted it-without sentimental involvement.
She rinsed the glass and went to bed, feeling that she had done a good night's work....
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Auchincloss, Lipsky & Auchincloss," Jana cooed into the black tube and listened to the hurried voice on the other end. "Mr. Lipsky's in conference. Who's calling?"...."Well, if it's urgent, one moment please." Deftly, she made the connection. "Mr. Martin Olin on the line, Mr. Lipsky."...."Go ahead, Mr. Olin."
She unplugged the line, sighing deeply. For over six months now she had plugged and unplugged, made her voice sing. And nothing interesting or important had happened. She was tired of being an office girl, ready to quit this unglamorous job. Why in the world had Benny stuck her in front of that board?
Of course, from time to time he wanted some special information about a case, and came to her apartment to get it, along with a night of pleasure. The men who visited the office seemed worried and preoccupied, hardly throwing her a smile. The partners of the firm-"keep it strictly business Jana," Benny had advised-treated her decently, with benevolent respect, as a capable employee.
Half an hour till lunch, her watch said, when the waiting room was permeated by an exotic and intriguing scent. Jana turned to admire the voluptuous woman in the expensive tan suit artfully trimmed with mink. She was not really beautiful, the nose was too prominent and the mouth too fleshy; but the violet eyes were brimming with joie dc vivre. Mahogany curls framed the pale, incredibly mobile face, the legs were those of a show girl. A little nothing of a felt creation sat atop her curls.
What fascinated Jana most were the diamonds that sparkled in her ears and on her hands. This was no girl, decided Jana; this was a mature, sophisticated woman in her thirties. All woman, aware of the unusual magnetism she brought into the drab office.
The woman walked up and her moist, red lips smiled; her eyes however, sizing up Jana, were old and knowing.
"I'm Iris Sloane. Mr. Robert Auchincloss is expecting me." She dropped into a red leather chair, crossing those super legs.
Jana plugged in, announced her, then turned to the woman. "Go right in, please; second door to the left."
"Thanks, I know where it is," said the woman moving past the desks. She walks like a mannequin, thought Jana, who had acquired that same effortless glide from the hips at Robler's. Who could she be? No society matron, for sure. Too aggressively showy, too many sparklers for daytime. She would like to have listened in on the conversation, but lunch was more important.
"Will you take over, Gertie?" she called to the blonde beanpole who nodded, left her typing and came over. "You having lunch out?" Gertie asked.
"Yes, it's such a nice, sunny day." Jana took her purse and went into the ladies' room to fix her lace. She picked up her hat and coat on the way out. She liked herself in pale rose; it brought out her skin tones. She would dispense with a hat and let the spring breeze blow through her curls.
As she waited for one of the three elevators on the floor, Iris Sloane came tripping out. She smiled at Jana as if they were intimate friends.
"Out to lunch? It's a wonderful day, too lovely for a sweet young thing like you to be cloistered in that dusty office." They got into the crowded cage. Pressed against the woman, Jana once more felt a dazzling something emanating from this creature. She must kill the men dead, thought Jana, stepping out behind her.
"I would love it if you would have lunch with me. I'm not too well acquainted with this neighborhood. And I'd like to chat. Haven't been in town for many months." The blue eyes were guilelessly friendly.
What can I lose? thought Jana, utterly intrigued by the woman. "I generally go to a little German place around the corner. It's nothing fancy, but I only have forty minutes."
"Let's make the most of it then," chuckled Iris Sloane. "You'd be surprised how one can use forty minutes. I once got divorced and married-no, not to the same man-in less time."
Walking along with her, Jana wondered how many divorces she had behind her. apparently, she picked the right suckers; those diamonds must be mementos from her various marital partners.
They sat in one of the wood-panneled booths and ordered ham on pumpernickel, as Jana advised.
"Beer would go nicely with that." Iris stared at the jumbo sandwich the waitress had deposited in front of her. "I'm counting calories, and somehow the count comes out wrong," she chuckled, her hand patting her generous bosom. They settled for coffee.
When she smiles, her mouth looks like a full-blown rose, thought Jana. The moistness of Iris' lips was the dew on the rose. She ate quickly, apparently enjoying every bite, while Jane nibbled on a fat dill pickle.
Iris frowned. "What's a girl like you doing in a dusty law office? You look like one of those rare and expensive filles de joie one sees in Roman nightclubs. And you should make a good model-a perfect ten."
Jana wondered what 'fille de joie' meant; she didn't have a French dictionary. "That exactly what I was doing. Then Benny had the bright idea."
The plucked brows arched. "The only Benny I know is a lawyer-Benny Mattnick." Jana giggled. "That's who it is. How-"
"It's a small world, if one travels in certain circles," remarked Iris. "I've known Benny longer than I care to remember. Is he still chasing everything in sight-I mean ambulances, clients and-interesting girls?"
"I don't know too much about his associations." Jana decided to be careful; she didn't quite trust Iris. "I met him through a mutual acquaintance. I was out of a job, so he suggested I try the switchboard."
"Hm, I'll bet he had his reasons. I haven't seen him for quite a long time. I had an idea he'd left for the Coast-otherwise I'd have given him my business."
"His office is only a few blocks from ours. You staying in town long?"
"That depends. I'm always on the go. I'm an artist's representative. Always looking for talent. Got any talent, Jana?" The question meant more than it indicated.
"I'm afraid not. Of course, most girls dream about being a movie star, or an actress. But not me."
"And what do you dream about?"
"I'm keeping my feet on the ground. Dreaming gets you nowhere. But money does."
"You amaze me. Say, here I'm buying you lunch and I don't even know your name. Proves that I find you interesting."
"It's Jana-Jana Galen. And please don't tell me I'm too young to know what I want, because I do.
I've got both my eyes peeled to the big chance."
"Could be you're looking at your chance. Any boy friend in the picture?"
"No man is ever a friend-at least not to me. A smart girl gives a little and takes a lot. I like Benny because he's smart, and has no illusions."
Iris scrutinized Jana as if mentally checking all her assets, visible and invisible. Then she said, her voice level, "How would you like to work for me?"
Jana dropped the last bite of sandwich. "But I've got a job, even if I don't like it. And I promised Benny."
"This wouldn't interfere with your working hours. And if you're as smart as I think, you could maybe make yourself an extra thousand dollars.
"A month?" Jana's mouth came open.
"A week," smiled Iris. "What you have to give comes high-a strange, dusky Madonna-like beauty, with a dash of street urchin thrown in. Men are captivated by that melange."
They looked at each other, and smiled. Iris didn't have to draw any pictures; Jana understood perfectly now what the woman's profession was, and where she-Jana-fitted in.
The thought didn't appal or frighten her; she'd heard about high-priced call girls. Even society girls hired themselves out, if the price was right. Also, the kind of men who could afford these services were important. Usually they were wealthy enough, so that a hundred dollars for an hou \ enchantment didn't bother them. Yes, this was even better than a paying boy friend, for no sentiment was offered or given by either partner. One played at the game of passion like a supreme divertimiento, and parted ways without promises.
"I thought this would appeal to your way of thinking," said Iris, reaching her mind. "I've got a thing going in several cities. That's why I'm on the road, to look after my interests. I treat my employees fairly, and I trust them-to a certain extent. The client pays, after I get mine. Never less than a hundred. And if I build you up right, it may be more. All that is necessary is a phone-a private line, of course-and a decent apartment."
When Jana gave her phone number and address, Iris was delighted. "Best possible address. I'm staying at the Plaza, as always. I believe in quality. Of course, gallivanting is out; I want you near that phone from seven p.m. on. At times, for special dates, I may call you late; but it will always pay off."
"I better get back to work," said Jana.
"That job is an excellent cover-up; keep it. And if you can keep Mr. Mattnick from finding out, I'd prefer it. Women do better in business without a man."
She paid the check and accompanied Jana to the door of her office building. "I'll be in town till I get things going, and you don't have to worry. When I leave, someone else will contact you. So long." She extended her soft hand, and Jana took it.
"Thanks for lunch, Iris; perhaps you'll come and see the apartment some time."
"I most likely will. Au revoir."
Sitting at her switchboard, Jana was baffled. It seemed incredible; Iris had scarcely met her when she laid her cards on the table What made her so sure Jana would accept her proposition? Women in her profession had to be careful before they gave the game away.
Then she thought, maybe it's all a hoax, she wanted to test me, and got her kicks seeing me jump at the bait. To come right out and ask her to be a call girl! And, what business did she have with Auchincloss? It couldn't be too clean. She decided to call the Plaza and inquire whether Iris Sloane was stopping there.
Do I look like a high-price hustler? she asked herself-and knew the answer. Funny that Iris knew Benny. She would ask Benny about her, casually. Benny had a way of telling you the salient facts about any person, even if he'd only met them for five minutes.
Too bad I can't call Benny tonight, thought Jana, lifting the receiver in her living room. But he was in Philadelphia, would not be back in town for a few days. She dialed the Plaza, asking for Iris Sloane.
"If you'll hold on," said the operator, "Mrs. Sloane is making a long distance call."
Jana dropped the receiver; she knew all that she wanted to know. She took off her office dress, slipped into a frilly pink gown, and walked into the kitchen to fix herself a lamb chop. Then the phone shrilled.
It was Iris. "Jana, that you?"
"Yes," she gasped.
"We're in luck. Got something gauzy, preferably black?"
"Yes."
"At nine o'clock my uncle, Fred Briscoe, will ring your door bell. Remember red-haired, jolly Uncle Fred? He sold his former holdings and is in the brokerage business now. I told him what an excellent cook you are. Try and please him. Bye bye, talk to you tomorrow night." The line went dead.
Jana felt jittery. Things were moving too fast. apparently Iris didn't Want to give her time to consider. She giggled. Jolly Uncle Fred was probably a big, fat slob. But she couldn't expect them to be attractive, that would be asking too much. All that she could expect was a hundred dollars or more, if she pleased them.
She glanced at her watch. Almost two hours' time. She went back to her lamb chop, deciding to rest a while after eating. She would set the alarm for eight-thirty.
For one brief moment she wondered what Benny would say. Probably, "Go to it, girl!" It was nice, she thought, to have a man of his caliber for a friend, one who didn't care enough to be possessive....
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jana was daubing chanel Number Five behind her ears and behind her knees-a trick that Gertie had taught her-when the downstairs buzzer rang. She pressed the button and opened her door calmly, aware that she looked her best. The black floating gown-like a mumu-hid her form; but the nightie beneath it fitted her curves snuggly. Her short hair fell in casual bangs on her forehead, accentuating the youthful look. A well-mannered man, he knocked before entering. "Come right in," she opened the door wide. Fred Briscoe stumbled inside as if propelled by invisible forces. His hair was white and his face was red. The baby-blue eyes were bleary. He grinned.
"Hello, Jana." As he took in her youthful appearance, he straightened up and became six feet three. His paunchy figure was enclosed in an expensive but wrinkled grey suit.
"Little present for the little lady." He pressed the wrapped bottle into the crook of her arm. "Can't praise the Lord without ammunition."
"Won't you sit down, Mr. Briscoe?" She led him to the couch, unwrapped a bottle of Haig & Haig.
The springs creaked as his heavy body hit the seat. "You sit right next to me. And my friends call me Fred-my enemies, an SOB."
Jana disliked men who swore. But he was a paying guest so she smiled. She felt his eyes investigating the property. He seemed satisfied with what the gown revealed.
"You're a mighty pretty girl, Jana. And it's a pleasure; it will be a pleasure." His arm sneaked about her waist, she couldn't avoid his liquored, stinking breath. I'll think about the pot of gold at the end of the trick, she decided, pressing her body against his grey coat.
"And so young. How old are you, girl?"
This was one time she could afford to make herself younger. "Eighteen; next week's my birthday." Who knows, he might remember.
"We'll celebrate your birthday right now. Fix us some drinks. Three jiggers on the rocks for me."
When she got back from the kitchen, he was in his shirtsleeves. He wore grey moire suspenders, to help hold up his paunch.
"Here we are." Watching his trembling, fat hand grab the drink, she wondered if he had palsy. And hoped that his heart was all right. Her own drink was weak; she had to remain sober and keep control.
He gulped it all down and she took the glass away. "I'm awfully tired, girl; let's hit the bed." He arose. She took his hand and led him into the white and gold room. Too far gone to admire its elegance, he slumped down on the bed.
"Take my shoes off, I'm too tired." She did so, wondering what other menial tasks were in store for her.
"Ah, that's better," he sighed. "Socks too." He had horrible, squashy feet, wore a corn plaster on his left little toe. "Now help me get out of all these clothes."
She had to undress him like a baby. When she saw him naked, she wanted quickly to dress him again. For Fred Briscoe au nature! was like an off-white, inflated balloon. Masses of fat shifted as he rolled over. His eyes closed; hearing the slight, singing snore, Jana wondered whether she would be paid if he slept right through.
But Fred Briscoe was awake, although not all there. "Take off that veU, and let's see what you're hiding."
Jana unpeeled, stood like a statue beside the bed. His hand reached out for her. "Come to Papa." He pulled her arm, and she landed on top of him. He pawed her, kissed her moistly.
"Maybe you can rub me awake."
Jana knew what she had to do, and set to work. But nothing happened.
"Guess I had too much to drink." His hand fell away, soon was snoring loudly, his back to her.
Repressing a laugh, Jana spread the cover over them and huddled at the edge of the bed, not wanting to even touch the jelly-like body. This was marvelous; perhaps in the morning she could convince him that he'd done it, what a great lover he was. She fell asleep with the bed lamp on.
But luck was not with her. As dawn's spidery fingers painted the curtains grey, she was shocked out of her sleep by an aggressive hand. Keeping her eyes closed and pretending sleep didn't help. He slobbered, hiccoughed, coughed, picked and pecked at her, finally took her into his moist embrace, burying her deep in the mattress.
It had taken a long time, but finally he was in shape to get what he had come for.
Jana writhed and gave forth a few scattered moans, trying not to think, counting the seconds it lasted....
Highly pleased with his performance, and flattered by Jana, Fred Briscoe left at six in the morning. After a long shower, his thick white hair flattened down, he looked more what he was supposed to be-an important businessman. He kissed her on the cheek. "I'm not as passe as I thought I was. I'll call you when I get back to town."
Before she could open her mouth, he was out of the door. Which she prompdy locked. Had he forgotten? That would be too horrible. She looked on the mantel. Nothing. Then on the night table, and in the drawer. Was it possible? And he appeared such a gentleman! After searching the living room and bedroom, she walked into the kitchen. There she found two bills, stuck in the neck of the half-filled bottle. A valuable stopper-a hundred and a fifty. She sat down and laughed till she cried.
Later, thinking back to the beginning of her call-girl career, Jana would vividly remember the next three nights and three different clients with whom they were spent. Each man was different, each disgusting in his own special, sordid way. After that she was inured; nothing could ever shock her again.
Bert Craven was a midget, scarcely five feet tall. His angry yellow eyes found fault with everything, including Jana.
"You're not concentrating; rub harder!"
For the past twenty minutes Jana had been moving her palms over his thick red neck and broad shoulders. Her arms were tired. "Let me rest a little bit."
"I didn't pay you to rest." He had taken out his alligator wallet as soon as he removed his Horn-burg, and pressed a dirty bill into her fingers.
Jana started in again, wanting to slap his flabby buttocks. His back was punctured with tiny red pimples. "Just a rash, harmless," he explained. "From being nervous. That's why I'm here, so you relax me. I need a lot of massaging."
Why not visit a massage parlor? she felt like saying. Much cheaper. But she rubbed on till she felt dizzy. He was more broad than long, and small where a man likes to be big. His chest sprouted reddish knolls of hair, his mouth was mean. But he was a top Madison Avenue exec, Iris had assured her. Although hard to please, he would be steady. Jana tried hard to please him, and hoped she would never lay eyes on him again.
He found ecstatic delight in talking dirty and torturing Jana's lovely breasts. He talked himself into a sexual storm, pushed Jana's hand away when she tried to be helpful.
"I believe in doing things myself," he mumbled. "But keep your eyes on me, hear?"
For twenty minutes he poured out filth, working himself up. Then, at the supreme moment, he put Jana to work.
"You're better than most," he said, leaving at four in the morning. "You'll see me again."
She sobbed herself to sleep.
Bobby from Wichita, Kansas, was a tall, gaunt wheat merchant with horny feet and hands. Clumsy and blunt-spoken, he insisted on keep his dusty shoes on all night. He smelled unwashed and his red stubbly beard was at least a three-days' growth.
He asked her to tell dirty stories. And when she refused, he slapped her backside hard. Cursing and swearing, he was a lusty knight who wanted his money's worth and worked hard for it all night long. She became limp and sore, but oblivious to her sobbing, he had his fill.
"A good man's hard to find. Six times is like one time for me," he told her laughing proudly. And he proved it. But when she found two hundred on her dresser, she decided it could have been worse.
She was sitting before her switchboard, frantic for sleep, hollow-eyed and pale. How long this double duty could go on, she didn't know. All she knew was that this weekend must be devoted to rest.
Shrewd-eyed Gertie, relieving her for lunch, stared at her tired face. "You're sagging all over, better tell the boy friend to slow down. Say, when you're tired of that guy, who not pass him on to me? I just dispatched Otto for good. He never bought me more than dinner in over a year. Seems to me guys don't appreciate things for free."
For the first time Jana had a real good look at the girl. Her figure, although slight, had curves where men wanted curves. Her angular face with the pointed, dimpled chin had a gutter-piquancy, and the wide lush mouth promised lavish kisses. The grey-blue eyes, large and wide-set, revealed experience.
"I may pass a boy friend on to you," smiled Jana. "You're so right, nothing in life is for free." Slipping into her rain coat, she asked casually: "You living by yourself?"
"I've got a nice little apartment. Unfortunately, it's in one of those old brownstones on the West Side. First thing when I get me some dough, I intend to move to more elegant quarters."
"Good idea," approved Jana, leaving the office.
Consuming a hot dog in the jammed drug store and trying to revive her sagging spirits with two cups of black coffee, she pondered the possibility of enlisting the services of Gertie Marsh for Iris Sloane.
But why Iris Sloane? Working for somebody else never got you anywhere. In fact, Jana was planning to set up a schedule of clients who wanted repeat dates, thus eliminating Iris.
She had a brilliant idea. There was that extra room going to waste in her own apartment; she could rent it to Gertie, and the girl would be at hand when needed.
When she got home that evening, utterly exhausted, the phone shrilled. She frowned at the instrument deciding no matter who, she'd decline. Finally at the fifth ring she picked up the receiver.
It was Benny Mattnick. How can anyone sound so full of pep, she thought, listening to his ebullient chatter.
"Good to hear your voice, Jana, I had a splendid trip, business-wise. Now I want to reward myself. I'm coming over shortly. I'll bring dinner along, solid and liquid," his laughter maddened her. "I'll be there in about an hour."
He hung up, not giving her time to say ho. He had a nerve! But this would be a good time to tell him that she was through playing office girl. He couldn't even get mad, for the promised extra bonus-being an alibi witness-had not materialized. While getting spruced up, she pondered whether to tell him about her extra-curricular activities and Iris Sloane. Staring in the mirror at her pale, peaked face with the blue smudges beneath her eyes, she knew he'd find out anyway.
Which was exactly what happened. He kissed her with high enthusiasm; and after dumping the packages he had brought on the kitchen table, he drew her close. Not to fondle her, but to inspect the face that had lost all its freshness, and showed the wear and tear of her turbulent nights.
"What's been going on? You look like an old hag. In five days you've aged five years. Keeping open house? Who put those there?" His forefinger traced one of the blue hollows.
"I'm just tired." She slumped into a chair. "Yea, sick and tired of being a nine-to-five slave."
He was sitting on the couch, his eyes sharp, his voice cutting. "No office toil makes a girl deteriorate like that." Then he said viciously. "Is it paying off? If you've got a live wire on the string, let me in on it."
She laughed. "Why should I? You in the pimping business?"
He slapped her a stinging blow. His eyes were mean. "You'd better get things straight. I got you those divorce tidbits. Easy money. I went to a lot of trouble to get you into a high-class firm-a setup you need, and which you're too stupid to recognize. Why do you think I talked old man Auchincloss into making an opening for you, where there was no job opening?"
She pressed her palms to her burning cheek. "That's what I'd like to know. That alibi thing-me being a witness, where I was going to get maybe two grand-was it just in your mind?"
"You'll find out soon enough. But of course if you get yourself a lousy reputation, I won't be able to use you. Those defense lawyers will prove you morally unfit to be believed-even under oath."
Overcome by exasperation and utter exhaustion, Jana burst out sobbing as if she couldn't stop. She was sick about everything: the dull hours at the switchboard, the nights with strange and horrible men, and Iris' frequent phone calls to "keep up the good work."
"Pull yourself together, Jana."
He sat beside her, drying her tears with his handkerchief. "I'm all for you, and I'm sorry I lost my temper. If you come clean about what's been going on, you'll feel better. There won't be any reproaches, there is nothing I can't understand."
She was about to tell all, when the phone rang. Galvanized, she stared at it without getting up. Let it ring, let it ring till doomsday, she thought.
"Must be the demanding boy friend. Better tell him you're busy tonight." And when she didn't move: "Want me to-"
That was one thing she didn't want. She picked up the receiver. It was Iris.
"Jana, dear," she cooed, "I got you the swellest man about town. Heavy spender. He'll knock at your door after eight."
Jana frowned, glanced at Benny's alert face. "I can't make it tonight, Iris, I'm bushed ... I don't care if he pays two hundred ... Well, take me off your list, who cares? Correct, I'm not alone, Benny's with me ... Oh, you want to talk to him? Hold on."
She extended the receiver to Benny. "Iris Sloane wants to talk to you." Then, seeing his bloodless face and tight mouth: "What's tire matter, Benny? Don't you want to talk to her either?"
With two steps he was at Jana's side, tore the receiver from her hand. "Don't be surprised at what I have to say to Mrs. Iris Mattnick-Sloane...."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Turned to stone, Jana listened to what Benny had to say to the ex Mrs. Mattnick-which was not pretty. She wished that she could hear Iris' part of the conversation. He called her every vde name imaginable, from low-down bitch to procuress. From the emotion in his voice-a new voice Jana had never heard before, one wrought with outraged feeling, deep hurt and scorn-it was clear to her that at one time Iris had meant a lot to this cold and aloof man. Yes, it was clear that he had loved her, and been deeply hurt."
"Keep your filthy soul to yourself, and keep your dirty fingers off this kid. You nailed me once; this time I'll boil you in oil. Goodbye." Jana thought the receiver was cracked, the way he banged it down.
He paced up and down, mumbling to himself, his eyes wild, his face sickly pale. Then he sank down next to Jana on the couch, passed a hand over his eyes.
"I guess in every life, if one wants to listen, there is the voice of evil, Satan in attractive disguise. Who wants to resist temptation served up so attractively? Mephisto got Faust's soul by offering him Gretchen, and eternal youth. Poor but honest Benny Mattnick was roped in by Iris Sloane. Only, when wedded bliss came to an end, Benny wasn't poor any longer ... nor honest."
He turned his burning eyes on Jana's face. "Sorry I'm raving, kid. But of all the evil women in the world for you to meet, get hooked up with, this one is evil personified. Want to know some facts about my ex? Just to open your eyes. To me, it doesn't matter any more; I've paid the price for love. That's why I'm full of hate, loved out, bereft of any true feeling....
"You see, Iris convinced me-blinded by love, I was easy to convince-that honesty and decency get you nowhere, never. That remaining honest, I would remain poor. She wanted things I couldn't give her. So she got them-from men. Not from one man, but from any man who was willing to pay a high price. Three times I caught her, and threatened to kill her. She just laughed, and bought a house for us to live in. We lived well on her money.
"I started taking all kinds of cases, and won them-through her 'connections.' But that wasn't all. I guess she got weary of sleeping around, so she took three young girls into our house. Our home became that kind of a house....
"Finally, when she took up with a low-down pimp, I left her. But she'd put the stamp of evil on me. She made me believe that evil rules the world, that good is only for those who can afford it."
Exhausted and out of breath, he stopped and stretched out on the couch.
"What I can't forgive her,"-his voice was low-"is that she ruined it for me with any other woman. A human being has just so much love to give, then he's burned out. That's why I can give you only physical passion, Jana."
Just like Beppo, reflected Jana, he ruined it for me with any other man. Closing her eyes, she saw the face she loved and heard his voice: "People like us must use evil...."
Her heart contracted in a spasm of yearning. She sensed that only he could save her-from what, she hardly knew. Maybe from myself, she thought.
"You've got to decide, Jana," Benny sat up, his eyes sharp again-"whether you want to go along with Iris, or follow my guidance. Not that I'm any better than she is," he sneered, "but at least with me, blackmail is out."
The word "blackmail" frightened Jana. Yes, a woman would be more deadly to one of her own kind. Any man-even one as amoral and bereft of scruples as Benny-would have at least an ounce of protective feeling toward his bed-mate. Besides, a lawyer was a legal protector, good to have.
"I get you, Benny. I've know you longer than her, and you've been a good friend. So let's forget Iris."
"You quite sure about that?" His eyes tried to peer into her mind. "Don't try to fool me."
"I wouldn't even try, knowing how smart you are," she smiled. "Now, what you want me to do? I've made contact"-Jane admired her choice of words-"with a few high-class guys, and I'm pretty sure they want to see me again. They pay a big price."
He frowned, retreating into his own thoughts. "No use cutting off your pretty nose ... you can see them. But no new ones. And it Iris calls, tell her to go straight to hell. She'll end up there in any event. You can't make a pact with the devil and get away with it, Jana."
She nodded, knowing they both had made a pact with that gent long ago. "You want me to stay on at the office?"
"For the time being, yes. I'm pretty sure I'll have something for you in the near future. And now, if you don't mind, I'll go to sleep in your white and gold bedroom. And I mean sleep. It would be wonderfully soothing just to hold you in my arms."
Did she detect a touch of tenderness in his voice? It affected her oddly to know he was vulnerable, after all. She fell asleep, her head on his shoulder; never had she come so close to loving him.
But when he left her early in the morning, he was his former, hard self again. He kissed her cheek lightly, his tone was casual.
"I'd advise you to keep your admirers waiting.
What you need more is a few nights of solid sleep. Alone. I'll call you later in the day at the office."
Their former association was re-established; never would she see him go soft again, she sensed.
During the following week Jana kept four eager beaus away, pretending a virus. Benny took her to dinner every night, leaving her at her door. Now, her face was fresh and young once more, there were no circles beneath her sparkling eyes.
But when Fred Briscoe called, anxiously inquiring about the state of her health and offering to send up his own doctor, she invited him to come see her at ten o'clock. She rather liked the old Santa Claus. And, she wanted to ask him for tips on the market; she had over four thousand in the bank now.
The knock on her door came at nine, while she was toweling herself dry after a hot shower. She ran to open the door, amused that he couldn't wait until ten.
But it was Iris Sloane who stepped inside, her cold eves running over Jana's pink body.
"Getting cleaned up for some dirty old man?" She sat down without being invited. "I won't stay, but you'd better listen to what I have to say. And listen good." Her tone was threatening, and she looked vicious as Jana wrapped the towel tighter about her nudity.
"I told you, and Benny told you, to leave me alone, Iris. I want no part in any of your deals."
"Look who's talking big! I'll bet you're expecting one of my contacts. I just want you to know that you can't brush me off that easily. I can imagine how Benny lied to you-about us. He's a shyster, Jana. He'll use you, then leave you in the lurch. I've lined up some interesting contacts for you, and I hate to see my efforts go to waste."
"No use discussing this any further," said Jana icily. "And don't drink that I'm stupid. I don't trust you, but that doesn't mean I trust Benny either. It just so happens that between two evils he seems the more attractive proposition."
"You'll see where you end-most likely where you came from, the gutter. Jana, it's bad to have me for an enemy, girl. You just ask Benny, he'll tell you. And before I leave, how about a little cut on all those repeat dates I arranged?"
Jana's mouth came open. This was too much. She would have to throw her out, after all.
"Well, are you going to dig up-let's say four hundred-from wherever you keep that bankroll, or do I have to look for it?" She took a step toward the desk in the corner.
"You got yours in advance-and that's all you're going to get, Iris. So you better leave. Right now."
"I don't think so," said Iris, advancing toward the desk.
Jana ran to her and shoved her toward the door. Iris' sharp-nailed hand hung in mid-air, but Jana was quicker. She slapped the woman's face, right and left, never stopping. Iris staggered, trying to keep her footing. Jana shoved her to the door, using both hands against the woman's buttocks.
"You'll pay for this, girl!" Iris spat.
Jana gave another push, and Iris landed on her haunches in the corridor. Quickly Jana shut the door, and locked it, then attached the safety chain, her heart hammering. She heard Iris' heels clicking down the hall, sat down to get her breath.
I'm a hellion, and glad of it, she thought, laughing to herself. I'm not afraid of her threats. But it would be a good idea to tell Benny; he'd keep Iris where she belonged-in the gutter they both apparently came from. I'm going to take Judo lessons, she giggled inanely, as she got into a ravishing orange satin gown.
At eight-thirty, Fred Briscoe called. "I'm terribly sorry, Jana, but I've got to leave town. I'm catching the ten o'clock plane to Chicago. But you won't lose a thing, honey. I'm sending a replacement-my friend, Otis King. He's young and handsome, in the brokerage business. He'll show at nine." He hung up before she could object.
She was furious. He had some nerve, taking it for granted that she'd settle for his friend. Then she recalled his words "young and handsome". Anyone in the brokerage business was rich, so what did she have to lose? In fact, she was gaining another client.
He is young and handsome, she decided, shaking hands with Otis King. He had a nice smile, he wore a superbly-tailored brown suit, his hands were soft and well-cared for.
"Fred Briscoe did me many a favor, but never, a bigger one than this," he said, looking her up and down. "You look like a Florida orange. Positively sun-kissed. Here." His left hand, hidden behind his back, came out with a huge box of Schrafft's candy. "Sweet stuff for the sweet."
"Why, thanks." Pleased, she deposited the box on the table. "Would you care for a drink?"
"No, I had quite a few with old Fred. I like to know what I'm doing-especially when I like what I'm doing." He sprawled on the couch. "You're too young to be true. And much too lovely for old Fred." He patted the seat. "Come closer. I won't bite-yet."
But he did bite, later, leaving vicious purple marks all over Jana smooth limbs. His kisses were biting ones, his sharp nails raking over her skin left crimson trails. Jana sobbed, begging him to stop. But he only laughed.
"I'm going to leave my mark on you, Jana. You're a very bad little girl who must be punished." He slapped her hard-her face, her legs-then forced her to turn over.
Helplessly Jana wept into her pillow. There were men like this who needed to be cruel to enjoy them-selves. He pummeled her tender backside letting loose a flow of obscene epithets. Suddenly his voice grew shrill, his hands stopped pounding. Hearing his moans, she knew that her suffering had lifted him to the apex of ecstasy....
When he left, after pressing two hundred-dollar bills in her hand, she would have laughed if she hadn't felt so miserable. This was a new experience for her. Men of that kind should get themselves a donkey or a poor pooch to slap around; they didn't need intimate contact with any girl....
She walked up to the long mirror to inspect her bruises, and wondered whether Otis had paid enough for his amusement....
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
As the weeks went by, Jana sensed a subtle change in her relationship with Benny. He stayed away many nights, leaving the field to paying customers. But he also stayed away when she had time for him, pretending a pressing business engagement, or "too tired to do any good," as he casually put it.
It bothered her. Was there another woman in his life? Nonsense, there would be none filter Iris, not really. Yet, there could be little doubt that he was drifting away from her.
On the rare evenings they spent together, he would inquire about her "over-night boarders", as he jokingly called them. There was a sarcastic edge to his voice. Even when she had put on her latest hideously expensive purple silk gown, he looked at the gown, not at her.
"You're doing well for" yourself, Jana. Better put something in the bank. One never knows .
Was that a hint? And would there be nothing forthcoming except her tedious job? Strangely, since he made himself so scarce and never stayed the night, she found him fascinating. So clever with words, so smoothly elegant in his well-fitting suits. She even liked the steely glint of his eyes. In the arms of her clients, she thought of Benny's very special way of making love.
Was he staying away because he was afraid of falling in love with her, knowing that she was just another no-good dame? Am I in love with this shyster? she asked herself, knowing this was not true. She wanted to dominate him-as Iris had-have him at her beck and call. Yes, no matter to what tricks she had to resort to, she would make him crawl and beg for her love. And then she would laugh, and make him suffer-as Iris had....
Tonight I'll make him make love to me, she thought, sticking her head into the over to look at the pot roast. She was going all out to show him her domestic side-a side he didn't know. The mashed potatoes and peas were almost ready, the cherry pie was cooling on the window sill. The new set of dishes matched the lilac table cloth, the stainless steel cutlery, were neatly arranged.
She hurried to the bedroom and stared at her rosy cheeks. No make up; tonight, she was the innocent young girl, cooking a meal for her beau. She took off the plastic apron, rearranged the pleats of the red-and-white checked dirndl; it made her look sixteen. The hair framed her face in natural, short curls. She wore no jewelry.
He came into the apartment, stopped and stared. "You look like the Ail-American Dream Girl; all you need is a vine-covered cottage."
She nodded, her face serious. "Maybe that's just what I need. I hope you're hungry; I've been slaving for hours."
He threw his hat on a chair. "I told you not to go to all that trouble. We could have had dinner at Alfredo's."
"Not this kind of dinner," she smiled.
He followed her into the kitchen, gazed at the set table in the alcove. "You should have taken up interior decorating. But then," he chuckled, "you decorate any interior. Mmm, something smells good."
She had him sit down, set out the roast for him to carve, put the potatoes and peas on the table, and took her place opposite him.
When she brought out the bottle of Burgundy, he demanded: "What exactly are we celebrating? Don't tell me you're having another birthday. If I remember rightly, you had one a month ago."
"Oh," she shrugged, "just celebrating." She clinked her glass to his. "What shall we drink to?"
He held her eyes. "To what might have been."
Watching him over the rim of her glass, she knew that he was fighting his feelings for her, afraid of being hurt again. A wild surge of triumph swept through her.
While he ate, hardly giving her a glance, she speculated how to make him spill his feelings. "You know," she said, passing the peas, "although you never ask, I must tell you about one particular John." She saw him flinch at her deliberate use of the vulgar word. "He's got the oddest way-"
His fork clanked on the plate. "Must we discuss your-Johns? Really, Jana, I expected you to have better taste."
"Oh, I had no idea you'd care whatever they do to me-or how they do it. Besides, this guy is well educated; he's a lawyer too. We have a regular court trial," she invented as she talked on. "I'm the accused and he's the prosecutor. He accuses me of the most horrible crimes-sodomy, incest, and the likes. I have to crawl on my hands and knees, lick his feet...."
Benny pushed his plate away and jumped up. "That's enough, you've ruined a perfect dinner for me. How can you permit them to treat you as-"
"As what I am?" she smiled at his anger, "a call girl, a high-priced hustler. Why should that make you mad? I don't get mad; let them have it as they want it, I get mine."
He stared at her, an odd expression on his sharp face. There was something like despair in his eyes. "And to think that I considered-" He stopped, shaking his sleek head.
"You considered what? Seems to me that of late you've hardly considered that I exist." Jana was enjoying herself, tracking him down, driving him to the wall.
"I wanted to be quite sure about my feelings."
"I thought we agreed not to have any of those." What a lovely cat and mouse game, with me playing cat for a change, thought Jana.
He sat back down and resumed eating. He drained his glass of wine, put it down, his fingers fiddled with the crystal stem.
"Have you ever thought where you're heading, Jana? A girl with your looks, and brains to boot ... Yes, even a marvelous cook. Whatever is driving you, it's pushing you in the wrong direction. So someone hurt you, and you want to hurt back. I can understand that. But it's not worth wrecking your life. Take it from me, no one is worth that."
She smiled faintly. "Look who's talking! How about you and Iris? You, so full of hate ... 'All I can give you is passion, Jana'. Well, I'm willing to give you that. And I felt I could tell you all the amusing little incidents with my men, knowing that you'd never be jealous ... After all, we're just friends!"
Was he going to break down and tell her? She watched his tight mouth.
"I just can't simply stand by and see you ruin yourself. You've got all the makings of a decent girl...."
"If that's a compliment I don't see it. You and me, we know what we want-and it can't be gotten by being decent. Nor honest. So why the sudden show of nobility? I'll bet you have your reasons for never letting me set foot in your office. And I've never seen your apartment-or the person with whom you share it," she added viciously.
"You know by now that I'm not interested in any-other girl. If I don't ask you to my office, it's because it's a shabby dump. Sure, when we first met I had in mind making use of your-assets. But then, as V got to know your potentialities, I decided it would be a shameful waste...."
"What do you mean, my 'potentialities'? I've made them realities. I'm doing okay, cashing in the dough." Should she venture further? "Here you can have me for tree, and you don't seem interested. Yes, that's it. You'd like to get me out of your life but you're afraid that I might blackmail you-like Iris."
"Stop it, Jana. Not even for one moment do I put you in the same category as Iris. And if I were not concerned about your welfare, and your future, I wouldn't behave the way I do."
"What future?" Her laughter sounded harsh. "I'm living my future right now. Cashing in today for a tomorrow that will never come. Money is my only future."
"Jana, I feel partly guilty about your way of looking at life. I admit that I was wrong. Believe me, if your heart is dead you're only half alive. Even for two people like us, dedicated to evil, redemption is possible-if there is love." His eyes, dark and luminous, were on her face. He had made his declaration of love, wanted her to be aware of it.
She chuckled. "Love? I can't imagine how it would feel-to be in love."
He threw his napkin down and jumped up. "Enough of this silly talk. I can tell you how it feels to be in love. To worry, be concerned, be anxious to express your love, yet afraid that she'll laugh at you." His voice rose, deep and full. He walked up to her and yanked her to her feet, compelling her to meet his eyes.
"Yes, I'm in love with you, Jana. In love, like a silly college kid. The only trouble is, I don't mean anything to you. I know you're a hustler, one who gives value received for the price they pay you. Only don't ask me to like it. I want kisses from you that aren't paid for, but given because you feel like kissing me. Satisfied?"
He pressed her close, covered her mouth and her cheeks with a rain of delicate, tender kisses that startled her.
Enjoying his new eagerness, she decided to play along for a little while. Then, when he felt sure of her, she would get anything she wanted-no matter how far he had to stoop to go get it for her. And then she would give him a good, hard kick in the pants....
She responded to his kisses, her tongue met his. She sighed and trembled. "Dear dear Benny, you old silly. I thought you didn't give a hoot."
"I'll s-show you, I'll prove to you how much I care."
He lifted her and carried her into the white and gold bedroom, deposited her tenderly on the bed. He helped take off the gingham dress and the pink undies, draped them over a chair. It took him just a lew seconds to shed his own clothes.
Jana looked at his lean, muscular frame, and closed her eyes, ready to surrender.
But he was intent on giving her pleasure. Slowly and delicately his hands and lips teased her. This is wonderful, she thought, letting him serve her as she had served all those others.
"Darling," she heard his faint whisper, "may I-or are you too tired?" His body hovered over her, waiting, in abeyance.
She felt like laughing into his imploring eyes. What man, ready to erupt, ever asked a hustler for permission? She had half a mind to refuse, to deflate him, make him slink home and take his excitement with him. But, for once she wanted to enjoy an act which generally meant nothing to her.
She opened her eyes and drew him down. "Love me. Now."
His kisses were a storm and Jana was drenched, drowned in the outpouring of his passion. The ice had melted and he was all fire, setting fire to her body so that she too became part of the flame which licked at her heart but didn't quite reach it, knowing that the iron door to her heart was closed to him....
In the morning, she cooked breakfast for him, enjoying her pose as a housewife. He raved over the bacon and eggs; she knew that even if she served him dog food, he'd love it.
At the door, he kissed her tenderly. "I hope you won't be too worn out at the office. Tonight?" his eyes begged. "We'll really celebrate. At Tony's."
She was about to tell him that she expected a call from Briscoe, when he said: "Don't tell me that you've got another date. After all, a man can't celebrate his engagement without his fiancee!"
He left her worried. This was going too fast. And too far. Better stop it. Then she thought, And why not? A diamond engagement ring was a nice thing to have....
CHAPTER NINETEEN
That morning, promptly at eleven, Benny phoned her at the office. Now, wasn't he the eager bridegroom? Jana was pleased; she had him where she wanted him-right under foot. His voice seemed even sharper than usual.
"Listen, Jana; no celebrating tonight. We'll have to postpone it. This is urgent business. I want you here in my office at exactly twelve-fifteen. You may not return to work, it all depends. You know where it is? ... See you, then."
Before she could ask any of the thousand questions she wanted to ask, he hung up. Urgent business could mean a lot of things. No, it must be some case where he wanted her as a witness. A thousand dollars would be better than a mediocre diamond ring, she told herself, suddenly excited. When she had that extra money, she might or might not remain engaged to Benny.
"You're ten minutes late." He frowned up from the papers he had been perusing. They looked like important legal documents to Jana, as she bent over to kiss his-forehead.
"Sorry, but the switchboard started acting up like crazy. I came as soon as I could." She sat down in the green-upholstered, ancient chair next to his desk, her eyes roving over the dark, cluttered office. Even at this noon hour, bright and sunshiny outside, the green-shaded desk lamp was on. Jana was less than impressed; the large room looked shabby, and the faded blonde who sat at the ancient typewriter in the other room fitted perfectly into the shabbiness.
I made a mistake, not looking at this setup before, she thought. Benny's really a nobody, just another shyster. He didn't want me to get too close a look at the dump where he operates. There would be. no engagement, she decided.
He fiddled with the ivory paper cutter, his forehead creased, looking slightly worried. "Now, Jana, here's your chance to make a little extra money."
"A little? How little?"
"Greedy child, no need to worry. If your testimony clears my client, I've wangled a neat two thousand for you. How does that sound?" His eyes held a sarcastic look, reminding her that even though he was in love with her, he had no illusions about her nobility of character.
She smiled into his eyes. "Sounds interesting, tell me more. What do I have to say? Who was I with while, and what happened?"
"This is no game, Jana; it's dead serious. Did you read the papers last night, or this morning?"
Why did he ask such a silly question? She shook her head. "You know darned well that last night I spent my time cooking dinner for you. And this morning I hardly got to the office on time."
He nodded. "I presumed so. Let me brief you, and don't interrupt. You can ask all the questions when I'm through. We'll have to go over it anyhow till you have it down pat. Remember, this is an important case. Not that the client matters, he's just a young hood. Also a pimp, I'm afraid. But his uncle, who's paying for it, happens to be a big shot on the Philadelphia police force."
"A cop, you mean?"
"Not just 'a cop'; he's a police lieutenant, and a straightforward guy. I hope you never meet him professionally-he's head of the Vice Squad."
Jana didn't like that part at all. But she was willing to hear him out. "So?"
"So this uncle-seems that blood will defend blood-wants to get the young punk out of the pokey."
Jana had to know. "What did he do? I mean, what crime? Did he-" her eyes were full of anxiety-"kill anybody?"
"Your testimony will prove that he couldn't have murdered the woman Pearl Brown last night, in her furnished apartment on West Seventy-Seventh Street. As the coroner figured it, Pearl Brown was killed sometime between nine-thirty and eleven." Benny's forefinger shot out, pointing at Jana's nose. "During that time he was having dinner at your apartment. Get it? He came at eight-thirty, and stayed in your place till about twelve. He never left your apartment during that time, and never used the phone."
"How-how was she killed?" Jana felt slightly sick.
"There were strangulation marks on her neck and throat. Also bruises and scratches on the upper arms and chest."
"Who was she, his sweetheart? And why did he-do it?"
Benny's laughter was rasping. "Pearl Brown was well known to the police. She was everybody's sweetheart. For three bucks and sometimes, when she hit it lucky, for five. Just a plain ordinary streetwalker. Not too bad-looking. In her twenties."
"But why did he do it?" insisted Jana, beset by a lurid curiosity. She could picture it all-the shabby walkup and the sordid bedroom, maybe one naked bulb throwing a yellow gleam over the nude body. Most likely a good body. The purple-or would they be blue?-finger marks on the slim white neck. Did that hood do it after he'd had her?
"The why, I hope, will never be known-if we get him off. Most likely they had an argument. Perhaps over money. He may have pimped for her, he has a lousy rep."
"Then why should his uncle-the big shot-want to shell out that much money to get him cleared?"
"From what he told me, he likes the boy and wants to get him straightened out. Though they hardly ever straighten out. The reason doesn't matter to us. Main thing, he is a client whose case I must win," said Benny with emphasis.
"Won't they find out that he wasn't in my place at that time?" Jana didn't like it at all. A stickup, a theft, yes. But murder was a terrifying thing, one without excuse or redemption, even to Jana.
"Not if you say exactly what I tell you to say, and act exactly as I say to act. Now you can see how important it was to stop having those-men callers-coming to your place. You 're an honest working-girl, employed by a reputable firm; there is no reason to disbelieve, or even doubt, what you say under oath."
"But-but what if someone did see him go into her place-or come out of it?"
He shook his head. "You'd never make a lawyer, Jana. Do you think I'd go to all this trouble if someone had seen him? Give me some credit for brains. They'd have come forward by now. Even if the D.A wanted to spring a surprise witness, your alibi is all that boy needs. Oh, he's been around precints, did a stretch in reform school. But we'll plead his youth. He's only twenty one, and rather good-looking. It will seem credible enough that you invited such a kid to dinner. From what little you've told me about your background, I gather that he conies from the same part of the gutter, if you'll pardon the plain talk.
"He wouldn't tell them anything, just screamed that he had a right to a lawyer, and insisted that they get his uncle Irving, all the way from Philadelphia. apparently they were impressed. Uncle Irving took the first plane, and hired the right lawyer for the case-namely me."
Jana blinked her eyelashes. It rang a bell. Uncle Irving ... Philadelphia . ... "Is it in the papers? His picture, I mean."
"And how! Full face and profile. You'd better study the photographs I have of him." Benny picked up the folded newspaper, flattened it with his fingers and shoved it across the desk. "Here, look at this while I find the photographs." He opened a drawer, fishing around in it.
Jana picked up the paper and looked. The paper shook between her fingers. She brought it up close to her eyes; it might be a bad picture, someone who resembled him. But she knew, had known even before looking, when Benny mentioned that cop in Philadelphia....
Yes, it was Beppo. He hadn't changed at all. A narrow, bony face, with eyes that ate into your heart. He seemed neatly dressed in the picture at the left. The second photo showed him hand-cuffed to a cop, his shirt open at the neck. There was a mean look in his eyes, he was sneering at the world in general, and the law in particular....
"No!" she said aloud, not wanting this to be her love, her everything. The paper dropped to the floor and she let it stay there. The way he looked, the way the adam's apple protruded from the too thin neck....
"No what?" Benny stared at Jana's hands, balled into white fists, saw the paper on the floor. "What's the matter? Pull yourself together. Some witness you'll make-!"
"I want to see the photos," she gasped. He passed them over, watching the black-shimmering hair, the tender curve of her cheek as she bent over them, breathing hard. She dropped them on the desk. Her eyes were closed, her mouth twitching.
"A friend?" asked Benny. "You know the guy?"
Jana forced herself to look at him. "Yea, I know him. I can tell you his name. It's Beppo, Beppo Callente. He used to live on my street. Yea, I know him. He took me to the movies-a few times."
That was all she'd ever tell Benny. Never, not even under oadi, would she tell all she knew about Beppo Callente, all that he had meant to her, would always mean-her one and only love.
"That makes it even better. Naturally he'd come to see an old neighborhood pal. Having run into you-shall we say at that Walgreen near your apartment."
She listened to him run on and on, scarcely hearing what he said. Beppo was in serious trouble, she alone could get him out of it. She thought of the fifty-dollar postal money order. This would make it the second time she helped him out. And this time there would be no money order. He himself would be her reward.
"Can I-can I see him? Talk to him?" her voice was urgent. "Where are they keeping him?"
"Are you mad? I talk to him, his uncle talks to him. As defense counsel, I have a right-even a duty-to instruct him about procedure. Jana, you must stay away from him; there must not be the slightest suspicion that you've contacted him directly. Your alibi would fall to pieces. You must see that yourself.
"This is a serious offense-murder, no less. He stays locked up until your testimony gets him out ... And gets you two thousand from his uncle."
"When are you going to see him?" She looked with prayerful intensity at Benny, who suddenly had become very important to her. He was going to get Beppo freed, get out of that jail and into her arms. "What you going to tell him-about me?"
"Leave the procedure to me? I'm going to see him this afternoon, long enough to let him know where and with whom he spent last evening."
"When-when will I see him?" She had to ask it.
"You'll see him in court. On the witness stand. I'll let you know as soon as the date is set. Depends on how long it takes to get the jury selected. Now you better go back to the office. I suppose I don't have to tell you to keep your mouth shut, or else we're in trouble. Get me?"
Jana arose. She had to hold on to the edge of the desk for a moment, her legs seemed like jelly.
"Are you coming over tonight?" she asked; not really wanting to see him, but anxious to hear how Beppo acted when Benny told him the name of his witness. She wished that she could listen in on the conversation, watch Beppo's face, the look in his eyes when Benny told him that a girl called Jana Galen, from his old neighborhood, would get him off this rap.
He glanced up from his papers. "If I do, it will be late. Better not expect me for dinner. It may be eleven-or later-and by that time you'll be fast asleep."
"No, I won't. I'll be waiting up for you."
Without a kiss, without a goodbye, Jana turned and walked out of the office. She hated the mere sight of him, and tired love light in his eyes. Benny had never meant less to her; yet now she had to cater to him. Because the prize was Beppo Callente....
CHAPTER TWENTY
Her hands folded in her lap, Jana stared straight ahead. Then one hand on the black-covered bible held forth by the clerk, she repeated dully after him:...."to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth...."
She was not aware of the crowd that packed the court room, nor did she try to pick out the faces of the jurors. Her eyes were turned inward; in the space of seconds her mind recreated events of that short, but to her almost endless, time preceding this trial.
She had gone through the motions of living, her days in the office, forcing her mind away from her one all-absorbing obsession-Beppo. His fate, and hers closely linked to his. The nights had been bad. She pictured him, sullen and defiant, shut away in his cell, brooding over his crime. For there was not the slightest doubt in her mind that he had strangled the girl. She was even jealous of the dead girl, who perhaps had experienced supreme ecstasy during her last moments with Beppo. Before ... before those lean, strong fingers tightened about her throat.
Was he a pimp, a procurer? The thought, although displeasing, did not revolt her. What right had she to judge or despise him? Though she hated to admit it, she herself was no better than Pearl Brown. They both traded on their charms-Jana for never less than a hundred, while Pearl took what she could get. No, Beppo had remained true to his credo, one she had made her own-the credo of evil.
She knew how to comport herself on the witness stand what to reply to Benny's questions, whatnot to say when the D.A. tried to make a liar of her. It was Benny who had selected the chaste blue dress she was wearing-not too tight, yet showing her sweet young form. She wore no jewelry except for a gold cross dangling on a fine chain on the blue, high-necked dress.
Her hair was brushed smoothly. Benny had advised her never to evade his, or the D.A.'s, probing glances. And to stick to her statement....
There was a stir in the court room, and the wall of heads turned as they brought in Beppo Callente. He was seated between' two policemen, his face dark and sullen, his mouth tight.
When Jana had stated her name, address and profession, Benny Matnick danced out into the arena-spick and span, eyes bright, a faint smile on his sharp-featured face. Jana felt better with him there; he would not allow anything bad to happen to her....
"And now, Miss Galen, will you please tell the court exactly where, and with whom, you spent the evening of May twelfth?"
The D.A., a weasel-faced, thin man with salt and pepper hair, broke in. "Objection, Your Honor. Move to be stricken from the record ... A leading question-"
The bald, round-faced judge nodded. "Objection sustained. Will you re-phrase your question, Counselor?"
Benny re-phrased and finally after several objections, Jana was able to tell the court how she had met Beppo Callente, a childhood friend from her former neighborhood, on the afternoon of May twelfth and invited him up to her apartment for dinner. A late dinner, as she had had to rest after a weary day at the office. He had arrived about eight-thirty, remained until almost midnight.
And how did she know it was just before twelve when he left, the D.A. asked.
Because she had told him to go, as she needed her rest.
In a daze, she heard the prosecutor recount the story of the horrible crime. True, it was committed against a gutter girl, a no-good hustler. But it was done by one of her own kind, a man known to move in the same circles, a procurer.
Defense and prosecution fought, heckled on point and counter-point. Jana tried not to listen to the prosecutor's long and dramatic speech, his admonition to the jury: "An eye for an eye...."
But she hung on Benny's lips as he brought out the youth ol his boy who-he admitted-had kept bad company, but wanted to mend his evil ways. Was he guilty of the crime? Could he be proven guilty? Had not a witness testified and established his client's alibi? A working girl-decent and honest, one who had no desire to see any criminal go free.
How could this young man, a mere boy, have been on the West Side, strangling a cheap prostitute-whom he admittedly knew, as he knew others of her kind. For, unfortunately, Beppo Callente had not been careful in his choice of friends.
At that moment, and especially when Benny made a final, dramatic appeal to the stony-faced jurors, Jana admired him without reserve. If there had been no Beppo in her life, she could have even loved him. But there had been, there was, there must be a Beppo in her life!
The Judge ordered a recess till two p.m. As Beppo was led away, Jana tried to meet his eyes. But he stared straight ahead. When the jurors filed out, Benny nudged her arm. , "Time out for lunch. I'll meet you in the drug store across the street."
He vanished and Jana walked out, down the broad stone steps, taking a deep breath. The warm breeze felt good on her cheeks, she lifted her head up to the pale-blue sky.
Benny joined her at the crowded lunch counter; luckily the stool next to Jana was vacated by a pasty-faced youth.
"How-what will they do?" Her egg sandwich tasted like sand.
Benny ordered a club sandwich, and coffee. "And make it snappy. I've only got a few minutes, I have to get back and see what the D.A. is up to. You did splendidly. And that cross was a brilliant idea. Now it's up to the jury. Most likely, they'll be favorably impressed by Beppo's youth and good looks."
"I didn't see his uncle Irving."
"Probably stuck away in the last row. In plain clothes. He'll come across, don't you worry." He gulped down his coffee, devoured the huge sandwich in four bites and got up. "Well, got to go. You coming?"
Jana dropped her half-eaten sandwich, and arose. "Of course...."
Jana stared at Beppo as they brought him in; he seemed extremely pale, unhealthy-looking, very thin. Well, she would fatten him up with a few decent meals. And he could get all the rest he needed, in her fine bed. She watched the wooden-faced jurors walk in, among them a sprinkling of not-too-well-dressed women. Their clothes did not matter-only their verdict.
The Judge addressed the Jury. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, have you reached a verdict?"
"We have, Your Honor."
"Will the accused stand." The voice of the Judge was like the voice of doom.
Her eyes flitted from the foreman, as he handed over a slip of paper, to Beppo. He stood there tall and straight, an almost bored expression on his lean face. Jana was awed. As if his fate didn't concern him. If he really was guilty-as she believed-he'd put up a marvelous front. Guts was one thing he had, her Beppo.
Jana's heart sang, she wanted to hug the fat Judge when he told everybody in this court room, and the whole world, that Beppo Callente had been found Not Guilty, was a free man.
She saw Beppo step forward and shake hands with Benny, all smiles. A tall, broad-shouldered man with a square face and red hair stepped up to Beppo and slapped him on the back, grinning broadly. Jana knew this was Uncle Irving; he looked like a cop.
People were filing out of the stuffy place, but Jana remained. Benny walked over to her.
"We did it, girl. And now we can meet tonight and have a double celebration. I should have the money by then," he added.
"Sure," said Jana, scarcely listening. Money did not interest her right now. The uncle shook hands with Beppo and left. And now, the heavenly, blissful moment had come-Beppo was walking toward her, smiling widely, not only his lips but also with his dark eyes.
"I'll see you tonight, Benny." Jana left him standing there, hugging his brief case, went to Beppo.
"Hi, Jana, old girl." He looked around, as if afraid that they were being watched. "Come on, let's get out of here, I need some air." He took her arm, nodded to Benny. They walked out into the sunny afternoon.
On the sidewalk, he let go of her arm. "Let's keep on walking. I've been cooped up too long."
She tried to keep step with him, eyes glued to his sharp profile. "It's wonderful," she said, "I'm so happy."
He threw her a startled glance. "You're happy? I'm glad as hell to be out. Yep, never again. Say, how come I was with you, of all people? I never expected to see you again," he said. And then: "Oh yea, your boy friend, Benny Mattnick. He impressed Uncle Irv as a legal brain."
His chuckle sounded false. "Little Jana once more to the rescue. Once, for fifty bail money. And, this time ... Well, you're getting yours, aren't you?"
"What do you mean, Beppo?" Her heart shriveled, she felt cold in the warm sunshine.
"As if you didn't know ... Two grand for you. Of course, Benny will get his split. Well, that makes us even. Now I owe you nothing." He stopped, looked into a window displaying men's ties.
"I don't care anything about the two thousand, Beppo. I care about you. About us. You're the only thing that counts with me in this world."
He stared at her. "That's too bad, baby. Because I'm spoken for. Yep, I'm going straight; no more prostis, no more hiding out in shabby rooms. Your old pal Beppo is going to be a solid citizen, walking the straight and narrow, obeying the law. I'm marrying that cousin Uncle Irv has waiting for me.
"You know, Jana, you'd better get married Past. Anybody. I can guess what you've been doing, with all kinds of guys. But it's no good. The good citizens walk easy, head up. They have it made."
"But...." Jana bit her lip, she must not break down and cry. But she couldn't just let him walk away, never to see him again.
"Beppo, I've loved you all this time. I've been waiting and hoping. You can't believe what you just said. It's you who told me ... people like us, from the gutter, we have to be evil. I've not done so badly, following your advice. I've got a few thousand stashed away-for us. We could get married...."
He stared at her and laughed. "Me? Married to one of your kind? You've got hustler written all over you-in spite of that phony cross. Yea, when I get hitched, it will be to a girl whom I won't be ashamed to introduce to my uncle and his family! Keep your money. Now you've got two thousand more ... With my compliments."
He was walking away from her, out of her life, not caring. He was ashamed of her, this murderer, this low pimp for whom she had perjured herself! She was trembling, and her heart went dead. All her pent-up love turned into flaming, tortured hate, and filled her with desperation. He would not walk away from her, laughing at her trusting simple-mindedness; she would punish him once and for all, so that he would never again mock her and walk off lightly, as if she were not even worth talking to....
He was standing at the corner in the crowd, waiting for the light to change. She ran up and nudged him.
"I want to talk to you, Beppo. Let's go to my place," her voice was low, hurried.
"Skip it, skip it!" He stared straight ahead.
But she didn't, she stood close to him, watching the cars move past at lightning speed. The crowd was jammed so tight, nobody would ever know, what happened. She gave him a shove, propelling him into the road right into the path of an onrushing car. She heard the screeching of brakes, the screams of the crowd, a police whistle....
Only when she heard the flat voice of the cop-"He's dead!"-did she slowly move on.
She walked like a zombie, stiff-legged, staring straight ahead, a girl with a past and no future. Two hours later she sat in a shabby bar, letting the greasy man on the stool next to her pay for her drinks, knowing that she would have to pay him with her body.
But it did not matter. Any man could have her, even without buying her a drink. She belonged to no one, and to every man. The meaner they were, the better; for then she could give-vent to her hate.
Yes, a lifetime of hate was not long enough. She would drown in evil, with her last breath proclaim her faith in the power of evil....
