5 Detective Novels Magazine Cover — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

14 “That TV set looks as if it was worth what you owe on the washer.” That one sent her into gales of laughter and aroused the craving for another drink. “Hell,” she said, “I owe three hundred on that beauty. Come again, mister.” I sat down. It looked like one of those cases. “You admit you owe a balance on the washer?” “Sure I do. What of it?” “You seem to have some pride left or you wouldn’t worry about what the neighbors thought. If I take it out, there’ll be a lot of talk.” “Did I say I wouldn’t pay for it?” She hoisted herself onto that contour chair. If she’d been younger and cleaner, she’d have been very interesting. Her legs still were. I said, “That’s much better. How will we work it out?” “You come back—lemme see—what day is this? s “Tuesday. “IT know ee The date?” “The fourteenth.” | “Yeah. You come back tomorrow, and I’ll give you twenty bucks. Twenty bucks every fifteenth of the month until it’s paid for.” “Is that the best you can do?” “It’s all I'll do. Take it or leave it.” “T’ll be back tomorrow,” I said. OCKING her head on one side, she asked sharply, “You got a card or something, mister?” “All I’ve got is a bill.” “Funny they should send a lawyer. You sure you’ re a lawyer?” “Look me up,” I said. “I have an of- fice in the Brill Building.” “Gimme the phone book,” she said, as if she were used to giving orders and having them obeyed. I got the phone book. She opened it and glanced at me again. “Craig, you said?” “John Craig.” She found the right page, ran her finger down the column and came to my name. “Well what d’ya know!” she said. “It’s here.” “TI told you it would be.” She threw the phone book on the loor. “How come they hired a lawyer? Ain’t there any bill collectors left?” FIVE DETECTIVE NOVELS MAGAZINE “I do this as a side line,” I explained. There were alcoholic overtones in her speech now. “You’rea good- looking guy. Nice build.” “Uh-uh. I’m not I shook my head. in the market.” She laughed harshly. “Well, can’t blame a girl for trying, Johnny. Lemme see the bill.” “What for? You know you owe the money.” “Lemme see it, damn you! Maybe I don’t think you came here about a bill at all.” I took out the fat pocket secretary I carried, flipped through the papers it contained, and came up with her bill. I started to hand it over. “Bring me a drink too, Johnny. A big, stiff drink.” I poured the tumbler half full of gin, handed it to her, and laid the bill on her lap. She didn’t pay any attention to it. I sat down again and lit a cigarette. She put all the gin down in a couple of fast swallows. If I’d been as loaded, I could have stepped off the Empire State Building and floated down. “Okay. I'll pay the bill,” she said. “Twenty bucks tomorrow night. Come back around nine.’ “At night?” “Sure, at night.” “T don’t want to waste time. Haven’t you got the twenty now?” “If I had, would I be telling you to come back tomorrow night? Don’t get me sore, pretty boy, or you can go scratch for that dough.” I looked for an ashtray. There wasn’t any. I glanced at the floor and knew why. That was her ash tray. I dropped the cigarette and stepped on it hard as I got to my feet. “How are you so sure you'll have money tomorrow ?” She closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and started to snore. Before I reached the door, she turned on her side. I was half tempted to whack her, just for the hell of it, but I figured may- be she would pay up and half of ninety bucks is forty-five bucks and my office rent was coming due. I went out into the hall. Halfway down it, an apartment door was open. On a bare floor inside, sat a you CoOMmicloo S (C@)