Part 4 (1/2)
”Go!” she cried, pus.h.i.+ng him toward the window. ”I will be all right.”
”Sure,” Donny said, ”me and Fan'll take care of her. Beat it, kid, and slip us the word when you can. Got enough dough?”
”Uh-huh.” Brazil was kissing Luise Fischer.
”Go, go!” she gasped.
His sallow face was phlegmatic. He was laconic. ”Be seeing you,” he said, and pushed up the window. His foot was over the sill by the time the window was completely raised. His other foot followed the first immediately, and, turning on his chest, he lowered himself, grinning cheerfully at Luise Fischer for an instant before he dropped out of sight.
She ran to the window and looked down. He was rising from among weeds in the unkempt back yard. His head turned quickly from right to left. Moving with a swiftness that seemed mere unhesitancy, he went to the left-hand fence, up it, and over into the next-door yard.
Donny took her arm and pulled her from the window. ”Stay away from there. You'll tip his mitt. He's all right, though Christ help the copper he runs into-if they're close.”
Something heavy was pounding on the flat's front door. A heavy, authoritative voice came through: ”Open up!”
Donny sneered in the general direction of the front door. ”I guess I better let 'em in or they'll be making toothpicks of my front gate.” He seemed to be enjoying the situation.
She stared at him with blank eyes.
He looked at her, looked at the floor and at her again, and said defensively: ”Look-I love the guy. I love him!”
The pounding on the front door became louder.
”I guess I better,” Donny said, and went out.
Through the open window came the sound of a shot. She ran to the window and, hands on sill, leaned far out.
Fifty feet to the left, on the top of a fence that divided the long row of back yards from the alley behind, Brazil was poised, crouching. As Luise Fischer looked, another shot sounded and Brazil fell down out of sight into the alley behind the fence. She caught her breath with a sob.
The pounding on the flat's front door suddenly stopped. She drew her head in through the window. She took her hands from the sill. Her face was an automaton's. She pulled the window down without seeming conscious of what she was doing, and was standing in the center of the room looking critically at her fingernails when a tired-faced huge man in wrinkled clothes appeared in the doorway.
He asked: ”Where's he at?”
She looked up at him from her fingernails as she had looked at her fingernails. ”Who?”
He sighed wearily. ”Brazil.” He went to a closet door, opened it. ”You the Fischer woman?” He shut the door and moved toward the window, looking around the room, not at her, with little apparent interest.
”I am Luise Fischer,” she said to his back.
He raised the window and leaned out. ”How's it, Tom?” he called to someone below. Whatever answer he received was inaudible in the room.
Luise Fischer put attentiveness off her face as he turned to her. ”I ain't had breakfast yet,” he said.
Donny's voice came through the doorway from another part of the flat: ”I tell you I don't know where he's gone to. He just dropped the dame here and hightailed. He didn't tell me nothing. He-”
A metallic voice said, ”I bet you!” disagreeably. There was the sound of a blow.
Donny's voice: ”If I did know I wouldn't tell you, you big crum! Now sock me again.”
The metallic voice: ”If that's what you want.” There was the sound of another blow.
Fan's voice, shrill with anger, screamed, ”Stop that, you-” and ceased abruptly.
The huge man went to the bedroom door and called toward the front of the flat: ”Never mind, Ray.” He addressed Luise Fischer: ”Get some clothes on.”
”Why?” she asked coolly.
”They want you back in Mile Valley.”
”For what?” She did not seem to think it was true.
”I don't know,” he grumbled impatiently. ”This ain't my job. We're just picking you up for them. Something about some rings that belonged to a guy's mother and disappeared from the house the same time you did.”
She held up her hands and stared at the rings. ”But they didn't. He bought them for me in Paris and-”
The huge man scowled wearily. ”Well, don't argue with me about it. It's none of my business. Where was this fellow Brazil meaning to go when he left here?”
”I do not know.” She took a step forward, holding out her hand in an appealing gesture. ”Is he-”
”n.o.body ever does,” he complained, ignoring the question he had interrupted. ”Get your clothes on.” He held a hand out to her. ”Better let me take care of the junk.”
She hesitated, then slipped the rings from her fingers and dropped them into his hand.
”Shake it up,” he said. ”I ain't had breakfast yet.” He went out and shut the door.
She dressed hurriedly in the clothes she had taken off a short while before, though she did not again put on the one stocking she had worn down from Brazil's house. When she had finished, she went quietly, with a backward glance at the closed door, to the window, and began slowly, cautiously, to raise the sash.
The tired-faced huge man opened the door. ”Good thing I was peeping through the keyhole,” he said patiently. ”Now come on.”
Fan came into the room behind him. Her face was very pink; her voice was shrill. ”What're you picking on her for?” she demanded. ”She didn't do anything. Why don't you-”
”Stop it, stop it,” the huge man begged. His weariness seemed to have become almost unbearable. ”I'm only a copper told to bring her in on a larceny charge. I got nothing to do with it, don't know anything about it.”
”It is all right, Mrs. Link,” Luise Fischer said with dignity. ”It will be all right.”
”But you can't go like that,” Fan protested, and turned to the huge man. ”You got to let her put on some decent clothes.”
He sighed and nodded. ”Anything, if you'll only hurry it up and stop arguing with me.”
Fan hurried out.
Luise Fischer addressed the huge man: ”He too is charged with larceny?”
He sighed. ”Maybe one thing, maybe another,” he said spiritlessly.
She said: ”He has done nothing.”
”Well, I haven't neither,” he complained.
Fan came in with some clothes, a blue suit and hat, dark slippers, stockings, and a white blouse.