grin with which he’d greeted me. “Merle Donophan. I’d heard he was under contract to a new team. What do you want, the usual arrest story?”
“If there is one. It shouldn’t be too difficult, this not being an election year. Cathouse raids only get popular when the mayor smells re-election. Deeper than that, though. Hookers have been known to advertise. Roommate Available, Model Willing to Work Nude, Lay-a-Day Escorts, You Tap Her, We’ll Wrap Her—you know the lyrics. Check out everything likely since the beginning of the year and when you find something get hold of my answering service. They’ll page me.”
“There won’t be much. The News is so staid the editors sleep with their nightshirts knotted between their legs. The boys in advertising won’t even accept business from X-rated movie houses.”
“It’s the girls in classified who take the calls. If you’ve got any bottle buddies on the Free Press , you might put them to work on it over there. It’s worth a C for half a day’s work. My client won’t starve.” I got out my wallet and spread one of the two Franklins Paul Cooke had given me on the bed.
“Keep it. I’m no menial.” He drained his glass at a jerk. I always admired anyone who could do that.
“Since when? I never saw the day you wouldn’t snatch at a quarter so fast you shook feathers off the eagle.”
“You’ve seen it now. I got a call last week from New York. They’ve offered me a slot on Today , shoveling the same crap I shovel here, only out loud and for a dozen times what these cheap bastards are stoking me to sweat behind a typewriter six days a week. I’m leaving tonight to meet the head of network programming, whatever the hell that is.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Why?” His blue eyes grew crystal sharp.
“Because I think some of Ben Morningstar’s hired help followed me here this morning.”
I was looking out the window at my right, above the sill of which, from where I was sitting, I could just make out the top of a yellow roof parked across Collingwood as dawn broke. Stackpole shot to his feet with a curse and limped over to the window. The only time he didn’t walk like you or me was when something happened to remind him of his loss.
I finished my drink, a swallow at a time, the way I took the stairs. “I’m sorry, Barry. I thought I lost him on Trumbull. Anyway, it’s not you he’s after. I doubt if he even knows who I came to see.”
“Well, it doesn’t really matter.” He left the window without presenting his back to it. Whether or not he bought that story about the price on his head, the chance that someone did was enough to make him act like Bill Hickok most of the time. “I’m leaving for Metro straight from the office. I won’t be coming back here. If, that is, checking into your girlfriend’s past doesn’t make me miss my plane.”
“You’re still doing it?”
“My column’s done through next Tuesday. If you hadn’t come along I’d just be wasting time resting.”
I offered up the hundred. “To grease the skids over at the Free Press .”
“Keep it,” he said. “I’ve been wondering how to collect on the favor Freddie Sloane over there owes me before I leave.”
I put away the C-note and stood up. “That’s one I owe you.”
“Two.” He smiled. “Don’t forget that redhead from composing I fixed you up with last summer.”
Wiley had last night’s edition of the News open to sports behind the wheel of the Pinto when I approached him across the street from the side entrance.
“The Wings dropped it in the last two and a half,” I informed him.
He’d been watching me out of the corner of his eye. He turned to comics. “Basketball’s my sport.”
“So I noticed. You’ve been playing guard to my center all morning. How come?”
“I do what I’m told. You’re pretty chummy with the cops, I see. Drop in on them any hour of the day and they’re so happy to see you they entertain you for seventy-two
“If there is one. It shouldn’t be too difficult, this not being an election year. Cathouse raids only get popular when the mayor smells re-election. Deeper than that, though. Hookers have been known to advertise. Roommate Available, Model Willing to Work Nude, Lay-a-Day Escorts, You Tap Her, We’ll Wrap Her—you know the lyrics. Check out everything likely since the beginning of the year and when you find something get hold of my answering service. They’ll page me.”
“There won’t be much. The News is so staid the editors sleep with their nightshirts knotted between their legs. The boys in advertising won’t even accept business from X-rated movie houses.”
“It’s the girls in classified who take the calls. If you’ve got any bottle buddies on the Free Press , you might put them to work on it over there. It’s worth a C for half a day’s work. My client won’t starve.” I got out my wallet and spread one of the two Franklins Paul Cooke had given me on the bed.
“Keep it. I’m no menial.” He drained his glass at a jerk. I always admired anyone who could do that.
“Since when? I never saw the day you wouldn’t snatch at a quarter so fast you shook feathers off the eagle.”
“You’ve seen it now. I got a call last week from New York. They’ve offered me a slot on Today , shoveling the same crap I shovel here, only out loud and for a dozen times what these cheap bastards are stoking me to sweat behind a typewriter six days a week. I’m leaving tonight to meet the head of network programming, whatever the hell that is.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Why?” His blue eyes grew crystal sharp.
“Because I think some of Ben Morningstar’s hired help followed me here this morning.”
I was looking out the window at my right, above the sill of which, from where I was sitting, I could just make out the top of a yellow roof parked across Collingwood as dawn broke. Stackpole shot to his feet with a curse and limped over to the window. The only time he didn’t walk like you or me was when something happened to remind him of his loss.
I finished my drink, a swallow at a time, the way I took the stairs. “I’m sorry, Barry. I thought I lost him on Trumbull. Anyway, it’s not you he’s after. I doubt if he even knows who I came to see.”
“Well, it doesn’t really matter.” He left the window without presenting his back to it. Whether or not he bought that story about the price on his head, the chance that someone did was enough to make him act like Bill Hickok most of the time. “I’m leaving for Metro straight from the office. I won’t be coming back here. If, that is, checking into your girlfriend’s past doesn’t make me miss my plane.”
“You’re still doing it?”
“My column’s done through next Tuesday. If you hadn’t come along I’d just be wasting time resting.”
I offered up the hundred. “To grease the skids over at the Free Press .”
“Keep it,” he said. “I’ve been wondering how to collect on the favor Freddie Sloane over there owes me before I leave.”
I put away the C-note and stood up. “That’s one I owe you.”
“Two.” He smiled. “Don’t forget that redhead from composing I fixed you up with last summer.”
Wiley had last night’s edition of the News open to sports behind the wheel of the Pinto when I approached him across the street from the side entrance.
“The Wings dropped it in the last two and a half,” I informed him.
He’d been watching me out of the corner of his eye. He turned to comics. “Basketball’s my sport.”
“So I noticed. You’ve been playing guard to my center all morning. How come?”
“I do what I’m told. You’re pretty chummy with the cops, I see. Drop in on them any hour of the day and they’re so happy to see you they entertain you for seventy-two
Similar Books
