But I reasoned this way. He saw me go in with Lydia by the West entrance. He knew I was wearing a dark suit. I had to hope that if I came out of the North entrance with a light suit on he might not connect me with the guy he saw going in the West entrance. Anyway, that was how I had to play it.
I picked Lydia up under one arm and the dummy under the other. Together they were plenty heavy, but I managed. I walked out of my apartment down the corridor, until I came to the North hall. I left Lydia and the dummy there and giving my bat another jerk over my face, I walked out into the street.
I felt as if every eye in the police force were watching me. I glanced right and left. The cop, who’d parked himself outside the West entrance was moving slowly towards me. He wasn’t suspicious, but I guess he just wanted to make sure.
I turned and walked very slowly towards him. I saw him hesitate and then turn back to the West entrance. Who said that attack wasn’t the best form of defence?
I looked back over my shoulder and then paused on the curb. When a taxi passed, I yelled and the driver crammed on his brakes.
As he nailed the taxi beside me, a patrolman wandered past. He looked at me casually and I took a chance.
“Hey, officer!” I called, moving towards him, “I want some help and your protection.”
He looked puzzled, but his face brightened when he saw the five bucks I was folding carefully. That’s one language all cops understand.
“Sure,” he said. “Any little thing.”
I slipped him the dough. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the copper who had been watching the West wing suddenly show interest in what was going on. He began to move towards me.
I grabbed the patrolman’s arm, “Come in, officer,” I said, leading him into the lobby. “This is a gag. I’ve got a couple of dummies to put in my pal’s bed. I’ve been waiting to get even with him for some time and his wife’s a jealous woman.”
While I was speaking I’d got him up to Lydia and the dummy. I took the dummy and opened up the sheet so that he could see the papier mâché face. “Doesn’t she look like the real thing?” I asked.
He gaped at it. “You’re going to put that in some guy’s bed?” he said, astonished.
“I’m going to do a lot better than that,” I told him, “I’m going to put both of them in a guy’s bed.”
I thought he’d break a blood vessel. I haven’t seen a guy laugh so much in years. All the time he was smacking his leg and bellowing I had to stand by and pretend I enjoyed the joke. But I was losing weight every second wondering if Lydia was coming to the surface and whether if she moved he’d spot her.
“Give me a hand,” I urged, when he stopped laughing to mop his eyes, and I shoved the dummy into his arms. “Will you put her in the taxi? If the driver sees this without the law around he’ll think I’m kidnapping someone. And listen, don’t let your lack of chivalry take advantage of a lady who can’t protect herself.”
That set him off again. He gathered the dummy up in his arms. “Do you waltz, madam?” he asked, and then locking at me he said, “Her breath smelts of Scotch.”
“What of It?” I demanded, “you’d smell of something too it you were as stiff as she is.”
“Yeah,” he said, “I hadn’t thought of that,” and he staggered out into the Street, snorting with mirth.
I grabbed Lydia, who stirred as I picked her up. I felt the sweat running down my back, but I had to go through with it. Moving fast, I joined the patrolman by the taxi.
At that second, the copper drifted up and stood looking at us with a disapproving eye.
“What goes on?” he demanded, staring at the two shrouded figures and then at the patrolman.
“Well, if it ain’t O’Hara,” the patrolman said, losing his good humoured expression. “Holy Moses! Don’t I ever get any privacy on my beat?”
“I’m on a special job,” O’Hara said. “What have you got there?”
“You look after your special job,” the patrolman said shortly. “I’m just helping this guy kidnap a couple of dames,” and he began laughing again.
Both O’Hara and the taxi-driver were staring now with eyes like door-knobs.
I tried to edge round O’Hara and get into the taxi, but he was too near the door and I couldn’t quite make it. I was scared of attracting his attention. Up to now he hadn’t even looked at me.
“Kidnapping?” he repeated stupidly, “I don’t get it. That’s a Federal offence.”
The patrolman turned to me, “This guy started the rumour that dicks were dumb,” he said, and went off into another spluttering guffaw.
O’Hara began to get mad. He turned on me. “What the hell is this?” he demanded. “What have you got here?”
“Show him, officer,” I said, trying to smile. “We shouldn’t keep it to ourselves. He might run us in.”
“These are dummies, you big sap,” the patrolman said to O’Hara. “This guy’s going to put them into his pal’s bed. Ain’t that funny?”
“Dummies?” O’Hare repeated blankly. “How do you know they’re dummies?”
“What the hell else do you think they are… corpses?” The patrolman began to get heated,
“Are you nuts? Think I’d help get corpses in a cab?”
“You might do anything,” O’Hara said, darkly. “I’ve heard things about you.”
The patrolman thrust the dummy into my arms and clenched his fists. “Yeah?” he said, pushing his face into O’Hara’s. “What kind of things?”
“Never mind what kind of things,” O’Hara returned airily. “But I’ve heard enough to know you ain’t so hot.”
Lydia stirred in my arms and then she made a small grunting noise.
Both O’Hara and the patrolman stopped glaring at each other and turned to me.
“That was the cucumber I had for dinner,” I said hurriedly.
“Well, you cut out eating cucumber,” O’Hare said, “I don’t like that kind of noise.”
“Why shouldn’t the guy eat cucumber?” the patrolman demanded fiercely. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
O’Hara scowled, “I know who I am,” he said with a sneer, “that’s more than I can say for some people.”
By this time, the taxi-driver was losing patience. “Listen, you guys,” he said plaintively, “are you using this cab or ain’t you?”
Both O’Hara and the patrolman rounded on him.
“You stick around and like it,” the patrolman snarled. “We’ll tell you when we’re ready, see?”
The driver began to tremble with temper, “I ain’t scared of a couple of coppers,” he said. O’Hara turned his attention to me. “How do I know they’re dummies?” he demanded, fixing me with a cold eye.
I suddenly lost my own temper and shoved the dummy at him. “Look and see,” I said angrily, “I’m getting fed up with this. I ask this officer to give me a hand and the whole damned police force has to come along and shoot its mouth off.”
“Yeah,” the patrolman said, ranging himself on my side, “what he says is right.”
O’Hara felt the dummy gingerly, took a peep at its face and seemed satisfied. “Well, it’s a crazy trick, anyway,” he said, handing the dummy back to the patrolman.
“Who wants your opinion?” I said, opening the cab door.
As I began putting Lydia into the cab, she grunted again.
O’Hara said, “Cucumber, huh?”
I looked back over my shoulder, “You must be psychic,” I said and got into the cab.
“Just a minute,” O’Hara said, pushing forward, “I want to look at the other dummy.”
That nearly brought me out in a rash.
“If you think I’m going to unpack this just to satisfy your curiosity, you’re crazy,” I said, slamming the door.
“Leave him alone,” the patrolman said, “you pain in the neck.”