“Don’t do us any favors,” Faraday sneered.
“Earl!” Trent snapped. “Cut it out.”
“All he did was make a couple of keys...”
“And all you did was get a safety deposit box number from another man’s mistress,” Tommy exclaimed.
Faraday stiffened as if he had been jolted with a charge of electricity. “What’s that?” he cried, in a sudden high-pitched voice.
“You heard me!”
Trent whirled furiously on Tommy. “Get out of here, Tommy.” He began pushing him toward the door. Tommy resisted for a moment then allowed himself to be propelled along. Trent whispered into his ear as he whipped open the door.
“Telephone me, later.”
He shoved Tommy through the door and slammed it on him.
Tommy glowered at the closed door, then strode down the hallway to the elevator. He rode down to the lobby and stepped out to the sidewalk and the first person he saw was Louie, standing at the curb.
He groaned. “For a minute, I forgot about you.”
“Too bad,” grinned Louie, “on account I ain’t forgotten you. Where we goin’ now?”
“You’re going home,” Tommy said. “Trent’s taking you off.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah!” Tommy pulled open the door of the apartment house. “Let’s call Trent.”
Louie looked sharply at Tommy, then shrugged and stepped through the door ahead of Tommy. Inside he headed for the elevator, but Tommy called to him: “He’s got a visitor; let’s call him on the phone.”
He headed for the desk and picked up the house phone. He nodded to the clerk behind the desk. “Mr. Trent’s apartment, please.”
The man made a connection on the house switchboard. A moment later Trent’s voice said curtly: “Yes?”
“This is Tommy Dancer, downstairs, Trent. Louie wants to verify you’re taking him off.”
“Put him on,” Trent said.
Tommy handed the phone to Louie, who said: “It’s me, Louie. Is it okay what he says?... Sure, I get it, sure...” He hung up and looked at Tommy. “You win, chum.”
Tommy clapped him on the shoulder. “Have a good rest, pal.” Turning, he strode out of the apartment house and got into his car. As he tooled it out into the street he looked toward the Lehigh Apartments and saw Louie standing in the doorway. The shadow waved at him.
Chapter Twelve
Tommy made a U-turn and coasted down Whitley to Hollywood Boulevard, where he turned right. He drove leisurely through West Hollywood and made the curve into Beverly Hills. He saw the arch that marked the beginning of the bridle path that ran along the center of Sunset Boulevard, through Beverly Hills, but there was no car parked on either side of the street. He drove a few blocks to the Beverly Hills Hotel and there made a U-turn and drove slowly back.
The yellow Cadillac was just drawing up to the curb at the end of the bridle path. Tommy parked about a hundred feet behind it, removed the ignition key from his lock and walked up to Betty Targ’s car.
She saw him through the rear vision mirror and had the door open as he came up.
“We’ll use my car,” she said.
Tommy got in. “Where to?”
“How about the valley?”
“Any place is all right with me.”
She started up the motor and shooting out into traffic made a reckless U-turn, driving swiftly into Beverly Hills. “No party tonight,” she said, shooting a swift sideward glance at Tommy.
“I know.”
“What do you mean, you know?”
Tommy hesitated, then exhaled. “Here we go again. I know because I left Earl Faraday with Willis Trent just a little while ago.” She slammed on the brakes and made a quick, half-skidding turn into Coldwater Canyon. She said: “What’s between you and Willis Trent?”
“I know him, that’s all.”
“Oh, is it? Well, do you know what Trent’s business is?”
“He is a bookie.”
“And you’re a customer?”
“No,” Tommy said, then caught himself. “I mean, I’m not much of a horseplayer.”
“Then how come you and he have become so thick all of a sudden?”
“I wouldn’t say we were very thick.”
“There’s something between you, though.” She was silent a moment. “And it has to do with Earl Faraday, too.”
Tommy winced. “Look, could we leave Earl Faraday behind us, for once?”
“You’re the one brought in his name.”
“Yes, dammit, I did.”
“I just want an answer to one question, Tommy, then we can forget it all and have a good time.”
“No,” Tommy said bluntly.
“No, what? About having a good time?”
“No, I won’t answer your question.”
“You don’t even know what it is, so how can you say you won’t answer it?”
“I’ve an idea what the question’s going to be.”
“What is it?”
Tommy shook his head.
Betty was sending the car zooming around the curves near Mulholland Drive. The tires screeched and she waited a moment until she had reached a straight stretch in the road. Then she said:
“You’ve got a stubborn streak in you, Tommy Dancer. And a touch of cruelty that’s going to get you into trouble one of these days.”
“I haven’t run across many gentle souls in my time,” Tommy said.
“No, I don’t imagine you have. How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“You were in the army, weren’t you?”
“Four years.”
Betty nodded and began braking the car as it began falling down the inner slope of the mountain that led into San Fernando Valley.
“You’re pretty self-sufficient, Tommy, and you’ve had a rough time. You can take care of yourself in a tight corner. At least you think you can, but I wonder if you really know what kind of people you’re associating with.”
“I’ve a pretty good idea.”
“Then answer my question, what’re you and Trent — and Earl Faraday — up to?”
“What makes you think we’re up to anything?”
“Because I happen to know that Earl and Trent have never been exactly bosom friends. And you... you’re not at all like either one of them.” She amended that quickly. “I mean that favorably.”
“Look, Betty,” Tommy said, “you don’t have to soft-soap me. I know the score. You and Faraday broke up and to spite him you throw yourself at the first man who came along, a common laborer.”
Betty was making a sharp turn with the car, but risked a quick glance at him. “You really believe that, don’t you?”
“I’m not complaining,” Tommy said, with a note that belied his statement. “I said I was satisfied with the crumbs.” He laughed softly. “How else could I hope to be with a girl like you?”
She kept her eyes on the road as she manipulated the turns and Tommy risked a glance at her. Her chin was high in the air and Tommy would not have been surprised if electric sparks had flickered from her taut body.
She whipped the car around the last turn and sent it zooming along the level road that ran beside the Harvard School for Boys. Ventura Boulevard was only a short distance ahead and the traffic lights were red.
She exclaimed. “I’ve got it!”
“Yes?”
She was slowing down for the lights ahead, but as they turned green she stepped on the gas and made a quick left turn into Ventura. She waved toward a restaurant on the left side of the boulevard. “Let’s eat there; the food isn’t bad and it’s quiet.”
She drew in to the curb on the right side of the street and parked the car. Tommy got out and, running around to the left, helped her out. She flashed him a smile, took his hand and led the way across the boulevard, dodging a couple of cars en route.
The restaurant was a big flashy one, but there were only a few cars parked at the side, for the hour was still early. Betty and Tommy entered and a headwaiter came up.