“The latest hooker.”
“Oh, her. I ain’t heard nothin’, officer. Honest.”
Boyle ground his teeth together. That was another thing with those pills.
“That so,” said Boyle. He went to the place where the men had been shooting craps, picked up the dice from the stones. He examined the dice, turning them in his hands. Boyle grinned. “These your sugar cubes?”
“Yeah,” said Buchner, blinking the good eye, giving his mouth an involuntary wiggle. “Something wrong?”
“Nothing wrong,” said Boyle. “Not unless you want to roll a seven with these things.”
“Come again?”
“Two, four, and six. That’s the only numbers I see on these dice. Any way you add ’em, it’s kinda hard to roll a seven with these babies, isn’t it, Matty.”
Buchner slapped his own cheek. “Man-O-Manischewitz! Did I bring them novelty dice out with me today? My little nephew, he musta slipped them into my trousers when I wasn’t lookin’—”
“Can it.”
Buchner’s shoulders slumped. “All right.”
“Those men who just hotfooted it out of here, you think they might want to know about how their pal Matty was fixin’ the game? Say, wasn’t one of those guys that big spade that works behind the bar at the Yamasee on U? That was him, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t r-recollect.”
“I’m gonna ask you again.” Boyle got close into Buchner’s face. “What do you hear around on the hooker murders?”
“Pasadeno. It’s like I said, I don’t know nothin’, officer, honest. I mean, I know what you know. The hookers that got themselves dead, they were all big and fat. To each his own and all that, but you gotta figure this guy that turned out their lights has something against fat hookers.”
“He hated them, huh? What’re you, a head doctor?”
Buchner shrugged. “Hey, I saw Spellbound, like everybody else. Anyway, it ain’t too hard to figure out. I mean, you saw what he did to ’em. It ain’t exactly a love letter when you cut a girl open from her throat to her snatch.”
“Maybe he was on a budget. Maybe he chose the fat ones on account of the fat ones come cheaper.”
“Ixnay. Not these fat ones. We’re not talkin’ about five-dollar punch-boards here. And none of them were known streetwalkers, I read that much myself in the Evening Star. It was all telephone trade, from what I understand. I mean, it ain’t like the guy walked into a cathouse and ordered one up. He arranged a meeting through a third party, kept the date, then took the girls into an alley and opened them up. But you know all that.”
“Yeah.” Boyle backed off. “You can go. But I want some information quick. I’m gonna hold on to these dice, in case I run into that bartender from the Yamasee.”
“I’ll ask around.”
“Do better than that. Find something, and find it quick.”
“Thanks for—”
“Get out of here. I’m tired of lookin’ at your face.”
The little man went down the alley, cut left at the T. Boyle walked back out to U, headed west. He was feeling a little drawn, kind of blue, with less of the energy he had before. Maybe he’d go into Nick’s place, say hello to Pete Karras, have a cup of coffee to pick himself back up.
Boyle thought of Buchner, twitching in the alley, shifting his feet like a kid who had to take a leak. The little Jew was tougher than he looked; it must have hurt awful bad when that guy in the joint had taken that spoon to Buchner’s eye. The first trashcan Boyle came to, he tossed the pair of dice inside.
Pete Karras stood in the sunlight coming in through the window, straightened his Windsor knot, formed it right. He slipped on his suit jacket, went to where Vera stood reapplying her makeup in the dresser mirror. He kissed her neck, reached beneath her arm, slid his hand across her breastbone and into her slip. He felt the dampness of sweat, her heartbeat, the swell of her nipple.
“Pete. I’m going to be late for work.”
“Me too. You just looked so good standing there, that’s all. I just had to touch it.”
She turned into him, kissed him, moved him back gently, her palms flat on his chest. “I’ve got to get into work.”
Vera turned back to the mirror. Karras went to the bed, sat on the sheets, avoided the dark, slick area where they had been. He picked up a paperback novel off the nightstand, read aloud the words on the cover.
“Evelyn Waugh,” he said. “Who’s she?”
“It’s a he.”
“A guy named Evelyn, huh.”
“You wouldn’t like it.”
“I haven’t read a book since high school. And even then I didn’t read it.”
“He’s speaking this weekend at Gaston Hall. Would you like to go?”
“Speaking? I don’t think so.”
“You ought to read once in a while.”
“I’ll get around to it one of these years.” Karras watched her drag a tube of lipstick across her fine mouth. “What do you folks do over there at the Census Bureau, anyway?”
“We count.”
“Hmm.” He touched the mole on his face. “So it isn’t the job that’s keeping you in D.C.”
“I come from Indiana, Pete. Anything’s better than—”
“That’s not what I mean. There’s other cities to visit, if it’s the big city you like. What I’m askin’ is, what makes you stay here?”
Vera looked at him in the mirror, realized she was staring, forced a quick smile. “I like this town, that’s all. That good enough for you?”
“It’ll do.”
Karras got up, shook himself into his topcoat. He walked across the room, stood next to her at the dresser. “What I’m getting at, I guess... what I’ve always wondered is, I mean, why did you call me up, six months after that night in Kavakos’s? And after you had a look at me, what made you stick?”
Vera stopped what she was doing, gave him that throaty chuckle he was waiting for. Her green eyes were a little watery in the light. “I don’t know, Pete. You noticed my shoes, I guess. And you were funny, and good looking, and honest to boot. And you didn’t try to sell me on how smart you were, or how much money you were going to make, or what a hero you were in the war. You didn’t have any illusions about what you were.”
“How about when you saw what I had become?”
Vera grinned. “I took pity on you. Then you surprised me. You turned out to be a great lay.”
“Aw, quit jokin’ around.”
“Listen, Pete—”
“I know, you gotta get into work.” Karras kissed her lightly. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”
He went to the door, opened it, began to step through.
“Pete?”
“Yeah.”
“You think you and me could go out one night? Just have a drink or something, someplace quiet? I’d like to go out one night, get away from this room.”
“Sure, sweetheart. We’ll do that soon.”
“Want me to phone you a cab?”
“I don’t think so. It’s a nice day. I’m gonna walk a while until I get tired. Then I’ll catch a streetcar.”
“Bye, Pete.”
“Goodbye.”
Karras closed the door behind him. Vera got her skirt off the bed, shimmied into it, zipped it up along the side, hooked it at the top. She took her blouse off a hanger and went to the window. She began to button her blouse as she looked outside.
Karras had paused out on the sidewalk to light a cigarette, his hands cupped around the match. Smoke swirled out of his hands as the match caught.
“You ask me why I stick around,” she said out loud, her breath fogging the window. “The answer’s staring you right in the face. I don’t know how dumb one man can get.”
She saw a twitch of pain cross Karras’s face, felt a dull throb in her own chest.