Chapter SEVENTENN
“WHERE to, boss?” the driver asked, as soon as we had settled down.
“Keep driving,” I returned, shoving Whisky’s foot out of my chest. “I’ll tell you when I’ve had time to think.”
Myra and Whisky were making a great fuss over each other, and I had to tell Whisky that when I wanted his tongue over my face I’d let him know.
“It’s certainly nice to see you again,” Whisky said, panting with excitement. “I’d given you both up for lost.”
“We’d given ourselves up for lost,” I said, taking Myra’s hand. “It’s a good thing you learned to float, sugar.”
“You know, I just can’t help it,” Myra said apologetically. “But I must get some undies. I just haven’t any confidence without them.”
“What have you done with them?” Whisky asked, pricking up his ears.
“Don’t tell him,” I pleaded. “It’ll take too long. Never mind about your undies. The cops are looking for you. They’ve only to hear I’ve been seen with a blonde and a dog and they’ll come after us like bats out of hell.”
“Very well,” Myra said, settling back. “But you’ve no idea how it preys on my mind.”
“The point to concentrate on is where do we go from here?” I said.
“That, I think, is for you to decide,” Myra said, slipping her hand into mine. “I’ll go where you say.”
“I’ve got to put you in some place where the cops won’t find you. Then I’ve got to get hold of Arym.”
“Who’s Arym?” Myra asked, puzzled.
“Your other self, my pet,” I said lightly. “That’s what she calls herself. If I get her, then you’ll be in the clear.”
“But how are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know. I’m not even going to think about it. I must first find a hide-out for you.” Then I remembered Harriet. “I know,” I said, and leaning forward I told the driver to stop at the first public telephone.
“This do you?” he asked, cutting across the traffic and drawing up outside a drug store.
“Yeah,” I said, then to Myra, “wait here, I’ve got to ‘phone.”
I found there was only one telephone booth when I got into the drug store and some dame was using it.
I went over to the soda-jerker behind the counter. “Is that lady going to be long?” I asked.
“I’ve got a taxi outside and I’m in a hurry.”
He shook his head. “She’s about through,” he said. “Anyway, I figure it that way. She’s been in there since noon and she must have used up most of the air in that little booth by now.
I thanked him. He had a pretty good grip on his business because the woman suddenly hung up and stepped out of the booth. She nodded to the soda-jerker and went out into the Street.
“What they find to talk about,” he began, leaning on the counter, but I didn’t wait to hear any more. I shut myself in with the telephone and put a call through to the Recorder.
Harriet was tied up with Mr. Maddox, I was told.
“Well, can’t you send someone in to cut her loose?” I demanded. “This is important.”
“How important would you say?” the switchboard girl asked. She didn’t sound impressed.
“Her apartment’s on fire and her old man’s trapped up on the roof,” I lied. “If that’s important to you, I guess you might do something about it.”
“I can’t interrupt Mr. Maddox for that,” she replied. “How long has he been upon the roof?”
I would have liked to have been right behind that baby. I’d have surprised her.
“Look,” I said. “It doesn’t matter how long he’s been up there. The point is the place is on fire and he gets dizzy when he’s high up. He wants to see his daughter before anything happens to him.”
“Well, I’ll tell her when she’s through with Mr. Maddox,” the girl replied curtly and rang off.
Maybe she didn’t believe me.
I had to leave the booth to get some change and when I got back some guy was entering the booth.
“Look, mister,” I pleaded. “I’ve got a priority. Would you mind giving way to me?”
He shook his head. “I’ve got a priority too,” he said. “My wife’s apartment’s on fire…”
“I know and she’s up on the roof,” I skid, in disgust.
He looked at me sharply. “I wonder how you knew that,” he returned, then he suddenly shrugged. “Well, hell I’ll wait. There’s plenty for her to look at up there.”
I thanked him and got back to the Recorder. “If you don’t put me through to Miss Halliday,” I said when I got the operator, “I’ll fix you good some dark night.”
“Let’s make a date,” she replied promptly. “The trouble is the nights are never dark enough these days.”
“How can they be?” I said, wanting to strangle her. “Well, you know what I mean. How dark does it have to be?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. I’ll just choose the first dark night that comes along,” I said, snarling.
“I can’t do business on those lines,” she replied, giggling. “I like something definite. How about to-night? To-morrow there’s a new moon and it’ll be too light for fixing.”
Something jogged my memory. “New moon?” I repeated. “Did you say there’ll be a new moon to-morrow?”
“Sure, I have to watch little things like that. They make an awful difference in a girl’s life.”
“Never mind about your life,” I said quickly. “What’s the date?”
“July 31,” she replied. “Have you been shipwrecked or something?”
I nearly dropped the receiver. The end of the month. I remembered what Doc Ansell had said. Myra would lose her influence at the end of the month when the moon changed. I looked hurriedly at the clock on the wall. It was just five-fifteen. I had only seven hours to get everything fixed up.
“Hello… hello… hello?” the girl said. “Are you still there?”
“I think so,” I said cautiously. “Will you see how Miss Halliday’s getting on?”
“How about that date?”
“Sure, make it to-night. I’ll pick you up.”
“But how shall I know you?”
“Who, me? You’ll know me all right. I’ll be wearing a Zoot suit and I carry my left leg over my right shoulder. No one’s mistaken me yet.”
There was a moment’s silence. “Can’t you do anything about that left leg?” she asked at last.
“I can leave it at home.”
“Couldn’t you be a little rough with it for to-night?” she asked hopefully. “I’d stand the Zoot suit but the leg gets me down.”
“That’s the idea,” I pointed out.
She thought about this for a moment. “It’s a date,” she said briskly. “Miss Halliday’s free now. I’m putting you thr—r—r—ough.”
Harriet was all brains. I didn’t have to go into details. She got what I wanted almost before I had started. She told me where her apartment was and how to get in and she promised to be back early. I thanked her and rang off. I felt I’d lost ten pounds by the time I got out of the booth. I collided with the guy waiting to put through his call. He apologized.
“Excuse me, pal,” he said. “Can you remember what I wanted to telephone about?” I told him.
“That’s right,” he said. “I’ve got the darnedest memory. Do you know I just can’t remember whether the fire was to-day or last week. Ain’t that a hell of a thing?”
I shoved past him and went out into the street.
I found Whisky lying on the floor of the taxi, but Myra wasn’t there.
“Where is she?” I demanded.
“Get inside,” Whisky said. “Where have you been?” The urgency in his voice startled me, so I got into the cab and shut the door.