We undressed in separate lockers, like a beach house, then we went upstairs to the baths: a big swimming pool, then steam rooms and hot rooms and, beyond these, a dark dormitory with maybe a hundred beds in it where you’re supposed to lie down and take a nap after your pores have been opened by the heat. Only nobody takes a nap.
Standing by the pool in a strong light, I was very embarrassed not only by what was going on but by Louis who was staring at me, taking inventory. “Where’d you get those muscles, Baby?” he asked, in a low husky voice.
“Beating up dancers,” I said evenly. But I wasn’t too sure of myself. Louis looked like one of those Greek gods with his clothes off, all muscle and perfect proportions, including the bone head. Our presence caused even more of a stir than it had in the different bars. Fat old gentlemen came strolling by; one old fellow could hardly walk he was so old … he wheezed and puffed and he looked like a banker, very respectable, very ancient yet here he was, operating like mad, or wanting to.
“Let’s go in the steam room,” said Louis and, ignoring the pinches and the pawing, we got through the old gentlemen to the steam room where a number of youths, black and white and tan, were carrying on, dim shapes in the steam which hid everything over a foot away. All around the steam room was a concrete ledge or shelf on which the various combinations disported themselves, doing a lot of things I never thought possible. It was like being in helclass="underline" the one electric bulb in the steam room was pink and gave a fiery glow to the proceedings. For the first time that night I was tempted to give up, to run away, to let the whole damned murder case take care of itself. Only the thought of Jane kept me in that steam room.
We climbed up on the ledge out of the way. Louis stretched out beside me while I sat straight up, legs crossed, and he made love noises. It was pretty terrible. Fortunately, he was drunk and not as quick as usual and I was able to keep his hands off me. For several hours I had been trying to clear something up but I couldn’t. He was either on to me or else he was too drunk to make sense.
“Come on, Baby, lie down,” he mumbled through the steam as dark shadows moved by us, shadows which would abruptly become curious faces; then, seeing us together, seeing my furious scowl, would recede into the ruddy mist.
“I told you one million times, Louis, I don’t like it,” I said in a low voice.
He sat up, his face so close to mine that I could make out the little red veins which edged the bright blue irises of his eyes. “You don’t think I don’t know all about you,” he said. “You think I don’t know about Jane?”
“What about Jane?”
“You know as well as I do. Everybody in the company knows … no use your trying to bluff.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“About Jane and Ella.”
“What about them?”
“Stop looking so dumb … Ella had a big thing with Jane, didn’t you know that? Just last year. Everybody knew. Ella was crazy for Jane. As long as I knew Ella, Jane was the only person she ever got excited over, except maybe me and that was just because I wouldn’t have anything to do with her.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Then go ask Jane … she’ll tell you. Maybe she’ll tell you about the fight they had … if she doesn’t, the police will.”
2
The sun was shining when I got back to the apartment. I was staggering with fatigue and I was aware of nothing as I fell into bed beside Jane who did not wake up.
Two hours’ sleep is not as good as eight but it’s better than none. At least I didn’t feel that my head was full of feathers when Jane woke me at ten o’clock.
“What happened to you?” She was already dressed.
I groaned as I sat up, shaking the sleep from my eyes. “Hunting a killer.”
“Did you find one?”
I nodded grimly, wide awake. “In spite of the fact, nobody’s been very co-operative … including you.”
“Here’s some coffee,” she said, handing me a cup from the table by the bed. Then: “What do you mean?”
“You and Ella,” I said, looking straight at her. “I didn’t know you went in for that sort of thing.”
She turned very pale. “Oh my God,” she breathed and sat down with a thump on the bed. “How did you find out about that?”
“Then it’s true?”
“No, not really.”
“It either is or it isn’t.”
“Well, it’s not. I’ve been so scared somebody would rake all that business up … the police don’t know, do they? Gleason didn’t tell you, did he?”
“No, I found out from one of the dancers last night. I gather everyone knew about it except me.”
“It’s not one of the things I most enjoy talking about,” she said with some of her usual spirit.
“I can see why not.”
“And not for the reason you think. It all started about two years ago when Ella needed an understudy in one of the lousy new ballets we were doing then … this was before she was such a star: so I was given the job and she offered to teach me the part … something which is pretty rare with any dancer but unheard of with someone like Ella. It took me about five minutes to figure it out. From then on, for the next few months, it was something like you and Louis, only worse since I had to work with her. I turned her down a dozen times; then, finally, after being as nice as I could be under the circumstances, I lost my temper and we had a knockdown fight which did the trick: she never bothered me again … never spoke to me again as a matter of fact, off stage anyway.”
“Then why does everybody think you were carrying on with her?”
“Because she told them we were, because she got everybody in the company to believe that I was the one who had gone after her and that she had been the one who finally threw me out.”
“Jesus!”
“That’s what I say. Well, even though everybody knew what an awful person Ella was, they tended to believe her since after all, she had so many affairs with men, too, and I wasn’t at all promiscuous,” she added primly.
“This may make it kind of tough,” I said, putting on my shirt.
“I don’t see why they have to bring all that old stuff up now. What does it have to do with Ella’s being killed?”
“Well, they’re pretty thorough in these matters, the police are … they’ll probably trot out every scandal they can find in the company, if only to make the headlines.”
“I had a premonition about this,” said Jane, gloomily packing her rehearsal bag.
“I wish you’d told me sooner.”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me … you do believe me, don’t you?” I gave her a big kiss and we both felt better after that.
“Of course I do. Only a complete hayseed like you could manage to do so many things wrong.”
She shut the rehearsal bag with a snap. “I almost forgot … somebody searched the apartment yesterday.”
“Take anything?”
“Not as far as I could tell.”
“The police … probably just a routine checkup.”
“I’ll be glad when they make their damned arrest and stop bothering us.”
“That’s just because you want to dance Eglanova’s roles.”
She smiled wanly. “I’ve been wondering, though, who they will get for the rest of the season.”
We took a taxi acrosstown to the studio; we were followed, I noticed, by two plain-clothes men in another cab. I said nothing to Jane about this.
Mr. Washburn was at the studio and he greeted me as cordially as ever, as if the unpleasant exchange of the night before had never taken place. “I hear you were out late,” he said, when I joined him in the reception room, near Madame Aloin’s desk. Dancers in tights, detectives, tiny tots, and mothers all milled about. None of the company, though, was in sight.