Part 25 (2/2)

She was tall and slender and lovely to look at, with the most amazing red hair that Eddie had ever seen. Dressed from head to foot in black, with a long black cloak hanging from her shoulders and which was fastened at her throat by a gold chain, she made an arresting and somewhat startling picture. She wore no hat, and the only splash of colour came from a scarlet orchid which she wore pinned high up on the cloak.

”Hold everything, Bud,” Eddie said to the bartender. ”This wants looking into,” and he slid off the stool, walked quietly to the bar entrance where he could see across the lobby to the reception desk.

Gus, the reception clerk, a lean, hard-featured man with quick, restless eyes, winked at Eddie as the girl bent to sign the register. Eddie winked back.

The bellhop, who had appeared by magic, took the girl's suitcase and conducted her with obvious enthusiasm to the ancient elevator. Eddie noticed the girl carried two leather briefcases, and he wondered idly what they contained.

He had a good look at the girl as she walked to the elevator. She was pale and moved listlessly, and Eddie had a sudden feeling that he had seen her somewhere before. This puzzled him, for he was sure that he would never have forgotten that head of hair if he had seen her before; but, for all that, the feeling persisted.

When she had disappeared into the elevator Eddie went over to the reception desk.

”Who's the gorgeous redhead, Gus?” he asked.

Gus shot his grimy s.h.i.+rtcuffs, ran his hand over his thinning hair.

”She signs herself 'Carol Blandish',” he returned, eying the register. ”Hot dish, ain't she? It wouldn't give me a clot on the brain to give her a tumble.” He shook his head, sighed. ”That neon sign's the brightest idea we've ever had. I bet we wouldn't have caught her if it hadn't been for the old sign; and I bet she stays only for one night.”

”Carol Blandish,” Eddie repeated, frowning. ”Now, where have I heard that name before?”

”Search me. Have you heard it before?”

Eddie stared at Gus, his blue eves suddenly very bright and big.

”For G.o.d's sake!” he exclaimed. ”That's the dame who's been in the newspapers-the heiress. Why, she's worth millions! You've read about her, haven't you?”

”Not me,” Gus said, shaking his head. ”I only read the sports column. What do you mean-heiress?”

”That's right. She's worth millions; and she's supposed to be crazy.”

”That don't mean anything,” Gus said scornfully. ”The way folks act around here I guess half the town's crazy, and they ain't got millions, either.” He brooded for a moment, added, ”She's got a swell shape hung over her bones, hasn't she?”

”What the h.e.l.l is she doing here?” Eddie asked, running his fingers through his hair. ”What a bird to pluck! That's what I call business and pleasure.” He suddenly snapped his fingers. ”What's the number of her room, Gus? I'm going to work on her. It's a chance in a lifetime.”

”No. 247,” Gus said, added helpfully, ”I got the pa.s.s-key if you want it.”

Eddie shook his head.

”None of that stuff,” he said. ”This has got to be handled right. It's got to be as smooth as silk. For the first time in my life I've a real beauty to work on, and am I going to enjoy myself I”

”It should come a lot sweeter after working on those old mares of yours,” Gus said, and sighed. ”I envy you, pal.”

”Yeah,” Eddie said, straightening his tie. ”I'm d.a.m.ned it I don't envy myself.”

The bellhop dumped the suitcase by the bed, pulled the yellow blinds down, shutting out the rain-splashed and dirty windows, threw open the bathroom door with an apologetic smirk, punched the bed as if to prove it still had spring's, and stood away, his right hand expectant, his eyes bright with hope.

Carol was scarcely aware of him. Her head ached and her body cried out for rest. She moved listlessly to the solitary, shabby armchair and sank into it, dropping the briefcases at her feet.

The bellhop, a worldly young man of seventeen summers eyed her doubtfully. He thought she looked good enough to eat, but he was reserving his final judgment until he had seen the size of his tip.

”Was there anything else you wanted?” he asked a little sharply, as she seemed to have forgotten him. ”You can have dinner up here if you like, and a fire. They'll charge you. plenty for the fire, but if you fancy it I'll get it fixed.”

She started and peered up at him as if she were short-sighted. To her he seemed far away, a blurred image in black and white, and yet his voice grated loudly in her ears.

”Yes, a fire,” she said, drawing her cloak round her. ”And dinner, please.”

Still he waited, a pained expression on his face.

”I'll send the waiter,” he said, ”or will the set dinner do? It ain't bad. I eat it myself.”

”Yes-anything. Please leave me alone now,” she said, pressed her temples between her fingers.

”Don't you feel well?” the bellhop asked, curious. There was something odd about her, and he felt suddenly uneasy to be alone with her. ”Is there something I can get you?”

Quickly and impatiently she opened her handbag and threw a dollar note at him.

”No!” she said. ”Leave me alone!”

He picked up the note, eyed her, a startled expression on his face, and went away. He was glad to shut the door on her.

”If you ask me,” he said to no one in particular, ”that frail's got a bat in her attic.”

For some time Carol sat motionless. She was cold and the sharp stabbing pains inside her head frightened her. She had planned to leave Santo Rio after taking Max's money, but during the drive down from the house on the hill she had developed this agonizing pain in her head, and unable to drive further she had decided to break the journey at Palm Bay. She had no idea what kind of a hotel it was, but the brilliant neon sign had attracted her.

A negro porter came in at this moment to light the fire, and his entrance disturbed her train of thought. She got up and went into the bathroom while he was building the fire. In the overheated dingy room, with its leaky shower and stained bath, she suddenly felt faint, and had to clutch on to the towel rail to prevent herself from falling.

She realized then that she was starving. She had had no food from the moment she had seen Max leave the hospital and had followed him to his home, and she sat on the edge of the bath, holding her head, until she heard the porter leave, closing the door sharply behind him.

Eddie was lounging in the corridor when the waiter came along pus.h.i.+ng the trolley containing the set dinner to Carol's room.

Eddie was on good terms with all the hotel staff, and this waiter, Bregstein by name, was a particular crony of his.

”That little lot for No. 247?” he asked, taking out a five-dollar bill and folding it between his lingers.

Bregstein eyed the five-spot, beamed and said it was.

”O.K., Bud,” Eddie said, slipping the note into Bregstein's pocket, ”go buy yourself a drink. I'll take it in. Redheads are right up my alley.”

”That alley of yours must be getting a little overcrowded, Mr. Regan,” Bregstein said with a leer.

”Yeah, but there's always room for one more,” Eddie returned, straightened his immaculate tuxedo. ”Think she'll take me for a waiter?”

”The kind you see on the movies,” Bregstein sighed. ”Those guys who don't have to pay for their own laundry.” He eyed Eddie uneasily, went on: ”The management won't like this, Mr. Regan. You won't start anything I couldn't finish, will you?”

”The management won't know unless you tell them,” Eddie said carelessly, pushed the trolley to the door of 247, knocked, opened the door and went in.

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