And remembering, could not understand. Or perhaps understood it all.
He pulled back the covers and climbed into bed.
On impulse, he reached for the telephone, lifting the receiver, and began dialing Christie's number. No, he thought, and hung up. He sat staring at the phone for a moment. Then he lifted the receiver, waited for a dial tone, and called Sally Kirsch.
Her phone rang six times before it was answered. Sally's voice, edged with sleep, started to say "Hello," but the receiver must have slipped from her grasp. He heard a clatter as it tumbled onto a hard surface, and then heard her mutter, "Oh, goddamn," and then heard her recovering the receiver, and then her voice again, hardly more awake this time, "Hello?"
"Sally?"
"Who's this?" she said flatly, and suspiciously, and somewhat angrily.
"Jonah."
"Who?"
"Jonah." He paused. "Willow."
"Oh." *
There was a silence.
"What time is it?" she asked, and yawned.
"Two o'clock, something like that."
"Mmm?"
"Were you asleep?" he asked.
"Mmm."
"Are you awake now?"
"Mmm."
"Would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow?"
"What time did you say it was?"
"Two o'clock."
"In the morning, do you mean?"
"That's right."
"Mmm," Sally said, and again was silent.
"How's your lip?" he said.
"Haven't you got court tomorrow?"
"Yes, I have."
"Don't you think you ought to go to bed or something?"
"I am in bed."
"To sleep, I mean."
"I wanted to ask you to lunch first."
"It's two o'clock in the morning," she said.
"I know. Will you have lunch with me?"
"Yes, I'll have lunch with you."
"Good. How about dinner?"
"When?"
"Tomorrow night."
"Tomorrow night," she repeated.
"Yes."
"What is all this, Jonah?"
"I want to have lunch with you tomorrow and dinner with you tomorrow night."
"All of a sudden."
"Yes. All of a sudden."
"All right," she said, and he was sure she shrugged.
"Can you meet me at Gasner's?"
"What time?"
"Twelve, twelve-thirty, give me a chance to get from the courthouse."
"Listen…" Sally said.
"Yes?"
"Aren't you married or something?"
"No."
"Somebody told me you were married."
"Who told you that?"
"A friend of mine. The night we met. At that party."
"Said I was married?"
"Yes."
"No, I used to be married," Jonah said. "That was a long time ago."
"How long ago?"
"Why?"
"Because I don't kid around," Sally said.
"I was divorced in 1962."
They were silent.
"You mean you thought I was married when you went up to Vassar with me?" Jonah asked.
"Yes."
"Do you usually go out with married men?"
"No. Well, once before I did."
They were silent again.
"Well," he said.
"Well," she said.
"They turn off the heat in this building at eleven o'clock," he said.
"Here, too."
"It's like an icebox."
"Yes, here too."
"Well," he said.
"Well," she said.
"Well, I'll see you tomorrow."
"I'm looking forward to it," she said.
"Good night," he said.
"Good night," she said.
Chickie did not come into the apartment until two-thirty a.m., using the key he had given her. He was asleep in an armchair near the bookcase, and he was startled into wakefulness by the sound of the key being turned in the lock, the tumblers falling. He opened his eyes and looked toward the door just as it opened. Chickie stood there for a moment, silhouetted by the light burning in the hallway. With one hand on the doorknob for support, she lifted first one foot and then the other to remove her shoes. Holding the shoes in one hand, she closed the door behind her and tiptoed into the room.
"Hello, Chickie," he said.
"Ooooo," she answered, "you scared me."
"Put on a light."
"I thought you were asleep."
"I was."
"Did I wake you?"
"Yes."
"You poor dear man."
"I thought you'd be here before midnight."
"What?"
"You said you'd be here before midnight."
"Oh, yes, I know, but we got all hung up. I'm terribly sorry, Sidney."
"I've got to get some sleep, you know," Sidney said. "Driscoll goes on the stand tomorrow morning."
"I know. Sidney, do you have any milk in the fridge? I'm dying for a glass of milk?"
"I think so. What's today?"
"Wednesday."
"I think they deliver on Wednesday."
"Don't go away, you dear man," she said, and she padded out of the room and into the kitchen.
"What time did you leave the office?" he called.
"What, dear?"
"What time did you leave the office?"
"Oh, I don't know. It must have been six or six-thirty. Why?"
"I just wondered."
Chickie appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a glass of milk in one hand and a cookie in the other. She took a bite of the cookie and then drained half the glass of milk. "Mmmm," she said, "that's good. Would you like some milk?"
"No, thanks. Where'd you go from the office?"
"We went out to eat."
"Where?"
"Oh my, listen to the lawyer," Chickie said. "How's the trial going?"
"Pretty well, I think. Where'd you eat?"
"Pavilion, where else?"
"Come on, Chickie."
"Lutece."
"Chickie…"
"The Four Seasons."
"I'm trying…"
"The Forum."
"I want to know where you and Ruth went."
"We went to eat at a restaurant on Madison, a few blocks from the office. I don't even know the name of it. It's a tiny little dump."
"And then where did you go?"
"Up to Ruth's, where we worked on the trip."
"What trip?"
"The trip I was telling you about."
"The one you said might materialize?"
"That's right. Only now it looks as if it might very well materialize. How's the trial going, Sidney?"
"I told you. Pretty well."
"Does that mean you'll win?"
"I don't know."
"Well, you must have some indication, Sidney."
"I think it's going our way. They put on a witness today who was a real shmuck, he did them a lot of harm."
"Who was that?"
"Ralph Knowles."
"I never heard of him."
"He's a movie director."
"What did he direct?"
"What difference does it make?"
"I'm only trying to understand what happened, Sidney. Do you mind if I take off my dress?"