places, too," he said. "Do you know when the vote is going to take place?"
The girl was eyeing the tray. "What vote?" She rolled up another pancake. '1 can eat and eat and it never shows. That's a great gift to have. Mara, on the other hand, practically has to exist on bread and.. .."
The Phantom put in, "I've suggested to Mara that I be allowed to join your organization."
"Oh, really? That might be nice." The dark girl smiled at him. "The few guys we deal with aren't much to look at. Though Sweeney Todd is sort of sparsely attractive. Trouble there is, he's got a mean streak and...."
"The vote?" reminded the masked man.
"Can't be until tonight," said Mimi after she'd finished the second hotcake. "I should have brought you some maple syrup along with the marmalade. If they're voting on you, well, it takes the whole group. Which means tonight, since some of the girls have other jobs by day. May be quite late, with some of them having to depend on the Long Island Railroad. And you know how unreliable that can be. Or do you?"
"I've heard rumors."
"What I mean is," said the girl as she stood to face him, "you sometimes strike me as . . . well, sort of different, sort of alien. I don't mean like you came over from Sweden or something, but more like a ..."
"Martian," suggested the Phantom, grinning.
"In a way, yes." Mimi smiled back at him, gave a small shrug. "I don't know. Maybe it's only because you're not like anybody I've met up until now."
"Running with a gang of jewel thieves can restrict your social opportunities."
Mimi said, "Don't start a sermon. I heard enough of those back home in . . . well, back home." She crossed to the doorway. "I hope you make it, Walker. YouH get my vote, for what it's worth."
"A lot," he told her.
She started to say something more. Instead she turned away.
"Nothing but familiar faces," said the Phantom when his cell clicked open many hours later.
This time it was Nita, the black girl who worked 67
for Sweeney Todd. "Hi. They sent me to fetch you." Lamplight poured in from the corridor, the sun had set. "Come along and stay just ahead of me." She beckoned with the snubnose .32 revolver in her right hand.
"Everyone's assembled?"
"Everyone who's going to be."
"Have they voted already?"
"Nope, they want to get a look at you first."
Two other girls were waiting in the corridor, both carrying hand guns.
The corridor floor consisted of unfinished planking. The stairs at its end had ten steps. The Phantom started toward the swayback steps, with the three girls trailing behind.
When they were up on the ground floor, Nita told the Phantom, "Walk straight along here and on through the doorway up ahead."
The upstairs hall was carpeted. There was a pale rose and a thorn pattern underfoot. An authentic looking Tiffany lamp glowed on a sandlewood table midway along. The Phantom became aware of talking on the other side of the carved wooden door.
When he turned the gold knob, the talking ceased abruptly.
An intense glare hit him when he stepped into the big meeting room. All the light was concentrated on a circle in the center of the floor. Tiers of seats rose up in circles around the brightly fit area. It was like an operating theater. "And I'm the patient," said the Phantom.
"What?" Nita pushed him toward the desk and chair which were the only pieces of furniture in the glaring circle.
"I get the feeling I'm going to be operated on."
"Maybe so," said Nita. "Go and stand by the desk."
The low-hanging overhead fights burned directly
down on him. He was aware of many women seated all around him. He could sense them, at least two dozen or more. A few of them shifted in their chairs, some whispered. A complex mixture of several par- fumes drifted down to him, along with wisps of cigarette smoke.
The Phantom's jungle life in the Deep Woods had developed many characteristics in him. One was patience. He stood calmly beside the desk, waiting. Not uneasy, not restless. Simply waiting.
As the minutes passed, the
The girl was eyeing the tray. "What vote?" She rolled up another pancake. '1 can eat and eat and it never shows. That's a great gift to have. Mara, on the other hand, practically has to exist on bread and.. .."
The Phantom put in, "I've suggested to Mara that I be allowed to join your organization."
"Oh, really? That might be nice." The dark girl smiled at him. "The few guys we deal with aren't much to look at. Though Sweeney Todd is sort of sparsely attractive. Trouble there is, he's got a mean streak and...."
"The vote?" reminded the masked man.
"Can't be until tonight," said Mimi after she'd finished the second hotcake. "I should have brought you some maple syrup along with the marmalade. If they're voting on you, well, it takes the whole group. Which means tonight, since some of the girls have other jobs by day. May be quite late, with some of them having to depend on the Long Island Railroad. And you know how unreliable that can be. Or do you?"
"I've heard rumors."
"What I mean is," said the girl as she stood to face him, "you sometimes strike me as . . . well, sort of different, sort of alien. I don't mean like you came over from Sweden or something, but more like a ..."
"Martian," suggested the Phantom, grinning.
"In a way, yes." Mimi smiled back at him, gave a small shrug. "I don't know. Maybe it's only because you're not like anybody I've met up until now."
"Running with a gang of jewel thieves can restrict your social opportunities."
Mimi said, "Don't start a sermon. I heard enough of those back home in . . . well, back home." She crossed to the doorway. "I hope you make it, Walker. YouH get my vote, for what it's worth."
"A lot," he told her.
She started to say something more. Instead she turned away.
"Nothing but familiar faces," said the Phantom when his cell clicked open many hours later.
This time it was Nita, the black girl who worked 67
for Sweeney Todd. "Hi. They sent me to fetch you." Lamplight poured in from the corridor, the sun had set. "Come along and stay just ahead of me." She beckoned with the snubnose .32 revolver in her right hand.
"Everyone's assembled?"
"Everyone who's going to be."
"Have they voted already?"
"Nope, they want to get a look at you first."
Two other girls were waiting in the corridor, both carrying hand guns.
The corridor floor consisted of unfinished planking. The stairs at its end had ten steps. The Phantom started toward the swayback steps, with the three girls trailing behind.
When they were up on the ground floor, Nita told the Phantom, "Walk straight along here and on through the doorway up ahead."
The upstairs hall was carpeted. There was a pale rose and a thorn pattern underfoot. An authentic looking Tiffany lamp glowed on a sandlewood table midway along. The Phantom became aware of talking on the other side of the carved wooden door.
When he turned the gold knob, the talking ceased abruptly.
An intense glare hit him when he stepped into the big meeting room. All the light was concentrated on a circle in the center of the floor. Tiers of seats rose up in circles around the brightly fit area. It was like an operating theater. "And I'm the patient," said the Phantom.
"What?" Nita pushed him toward the desk and chair which were the only pieces of furniture in the glaring circle.
"I get the feeling I'm going to be operated on."
"Maybe so," said Nita. "Go and stand by the desk."
The low-hanging overhead fights burned directly
down on him. He was aware of many women seated all around him. He could sense them, at least two dozen or more. A few of them shifted in their chairs, some whispered. A complex mixture of several par- fumes drifted down to him, along with wisps of cigarette smoke.
The Phantom's jungle life in the Deep Woods had developed many characteristics in him. One was patience. He stood calmly beside the desk, waiting. Not uneasy, not restless. Simply waiting.
As the minutes passed, the
Similar Books
