It was nearly half-past four and the last customer had been let out the side door. The barroom was dark except for the weak night light over the cash register. For early risers it was Tuesday morning, but here it was still Monday night. Rich Hickman, the bartender, had his street clothes on, very dapper, and seeming not at all tired as he came in the back room.
“You all through, Rich?” said Wigman, the owner.
“All through here,” said Rich, with a smile.
“Yeah, you look as if you had some place to go,” said Wigman. “One for the road, as they say?” Wigman pointed to the bottle of bourbon on the table.
“I don’t know. Sure,” said Rich. He looked at his wristwatch, a hexagonal shape with square hollow links of stainless steel. “You want company a little while?”
“Get yourself a glass and sit down,” said Wigman. “I don’t know whether I got a date or not. It all depends.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Rich, speaking while he fetched a shot glass from the bar. “Those all-depends dates. I give that up for a coupla years, but now I’m back playing the field. All depends, all depends. They give you that all-depends chowder, but it’s still better than being tied down.”
“I don’t know,” said Wigman. “I don’t know which is better, to tell you the truth. I’m forty-four years of age and twice in my life I thought I was settled down. Settled down. But it got to be tied down, and I was too young for that. I still feel pretty young, but I know what I am. I’m forty-four going on forty-five, and if I’m gonna be ninety years old, I’m halfway there. Halfway to ninety. Cheers, Rich.”
“Cheers,” said Rich. They raised glasses and drank.
“What did we do tonight?” said Wigman.
“Around three and a quarter.”
“Yeah, quiet. Well, a Monday,” said Wigman.
“You don’t even figure to break even on a Monday,” said Rich.
“That reminds me. How is it you never owned a joint of your own?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I got offered the chance to, to go partners with a guy in Fort Lauderdale, but I didn’t. I didn’t like the fellow. And I had a rich dame in Miami Beach used to give me the big talk, but for two years straight as soon as it was April she went back to New York, and I was still on the duckboards. I guess she didn’t have the money. The cash, I mean. She had a forty-dollar-a-day room all season, and she had a coupla rings there that shoulda been good for fifteen, twenty thousand apiece. But I know for a fact she was a two-dollar bettor at the track. Her husband wouldn’t let her have any cash.”
“Were you in?”
“Oh, sure, I was in. I had the use of a big Chrysler and she give me like all my slacks and sport shirts she used to put on the tab at the hotel. They had a woman’s shop there that carried men’s shirts and slacks and a couple times special orders for an Italian silk suit, sports jackets. And you know, that husband never got wise, because it was a woman’s shop. It all went on the tab at the hotel. But cash, no. She was a two-dollar bettor. Didn’t cash ten bets all season, all long shots. Every race she had the long shot. That many long shots don’t come in.”
“That many favorites don’t come in either,” said Wigman.
“No. Not when I have them at least. So anyway, I stop going steady with her and ever since I been playing the field.”
“How old are you, Rich?”
“How old am I? I’m thirty-seven. I’m not so much younger than you.”
“You look it, though. I got too much weight on me.”
“Well, you think about it and it’s very seldom you see a bartender overweight. If he’s just a working stiff. An owner that tends bar, he’ll put on the weight. But just an ordinary bartender, he’s on his feet, moving around. Like a cashier in a bank. A paying teller. How many of them do you see fat? I figured it out why. You’re on your feet all day and the lard don’t get a chance to grow on you. Furthermore, you don’t think of a bartender as using up mental energy, but we do. You carry on these conversations with the customers, you got maybe twenty-thirty customers at one time, and they all say, ‘Hey, Rich, will you do this again, please?’ and you’re supposed to know what every one of them wants. Then the cash register, the prices. And the guys that want the bottle on the bar, you gotta keep an eye on them. It’s mental work, and that uses up energy. We’re not very different than a paying teller. Except the respectability.”
“And the wages, Rich. You get better wages.”
“That we do.”
“And you’re not stuck in the one place all your life.”
“No. Oh, I’m not complaining. How long would a teller in a bank last if they found out he was driving some broad’s Chrysler and living it up in a forty-dollar-a-day room? I had a room over in Miami, a fleabag over there, but most of the time I was in Miami Beach.”
“A good tan goes well with your white hair.”
“Oh, I used to pass for ten years younger. This broad thought I was around twenty-six, twenty-seven. Gave her a little priority over the other broads. Priority? You know what I mean. Not priority.”
“Superiority.”
“That’s it.”
There was a metallic rap on the window. “I guess I got a date after all,” said Wigman.
“I’ll get it,” said Rich, going to the door. “Howdy do?”
The woman said: “Hello. Is Ernie here?”
“Come on in,” called Wigman. “That’s Rich Hickman, my bartender. Come on in, June.”
“Hello,” said June to Rich, acknowledging the introduction.
“Nice to meet you,” said Rich. “I’ll be going.”
“Stick around, don’t go,” said Wigman.
“I better go,” said Rich, looking at his watch.
“Time you meeting your date?” said Wigman.
“Well, I don’t know. She was gonna be here or give me a buzz.”
“Well, stick around a while,” said Wigman. “So she’s a little late. They’re always late. Hello, Junie.”
“I wasn’t so very late,” said the woman. “I told you between four and five, so I’m early.”
“What’ll you drink?” said Wigman.
“Oh—I don’t know,” said June. She looked at the bottle on the table. “Not bourbon.”
“Well, you can have anything you want, and if you want a mixed drink, this is the guy to do it for you. This guy is only the best. Take my word for it.”
“You know what I think I’ll have is a Rob Roy. I had a Scotch earlier.”
“That’s easy,” said Rich.
“Live up to your reputation now, Rich. Give her the best Rob Roy she ever hung a lip over.”
“What an expression!” said June. She lit a cigarette and Rich went to the barroom. “What happened to the other fellow you used to have?”
“He quit, and I got this fellow. This fellow’s twice as good. No spillage. No getting out of hand with the customers. And pretty, too, isn’t he?”
“He’s almost too pretty. He dyes his hair. Is he queer?”
“If he is, I should be as queer. The women go big for this guy.”
“Does he go big for them is the question,” said June.
“I got an idea that it’s mutual. How was your business tonight?”
“Off. Way off. They’re talking about closing Monday nights entirely. I heard they’re trying to make a deal with the unions. It may pick up though, towards the end of the week. They moan and groan every Monday, but as soon as it begins to pick up towards the end of the week, you don’t hear any more about it.”
“I know,” said Wigman. “We were way off tonight.”
“It starda rain out,” said June. “I just got a few drops on me, getting out of the cab.”
“I owe you for the cab,” said Wigman. He took a bill out of a money clip. She looked at the bill and then at Wigman. She shook her head.
“This five has an O behind it,” she said.
“I don’t need glasses,” said Wigman.
“You want to give me fifty dollars?”
“Why are you acting surprised? It isn’t the first time I gave you fifty dollars.”
“You don’t have to give me fifty dollars,” she said. “I don’t mind when business is good, but you said you were way off tonight.”
“We were very good Saturday and Sunday.”
“Ernie, you don’t have to do this,” she said.
“But I’d rather,” he said. “Here’s your Rob Roy. A good way to unload the cheap Scotch.”
“I didn’t use the cheap Scotch,” said Rich. “That’s as good as we have in the house.”
“Well, that’s all right, considering,” said Wigman.
Hickman looked at the rain-streaked window. “Hey, you know it’s starting to come down.”
“You might as well wait here till it stops.”
The fifty-dollar bill disappeared into June’s purse and she sipped the cocktail, moving her eyes from right to left, left to right as she judged the taste. “Good,” she said. “Just right.”
“Thanks,” said Rich.
“I told you, this guy is only the best,” said Wigman. “You better stick around in case she wants another one.”
“Well, if it’s all right with all concerned,” said Rich. “My friend should be along any minute, or phone.”
“There’s the bottle,” said Wigman. “Help yourself. You know the combination.”
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” said June.
“Go ahead,” said Rich.
“Did you used to be in Miami Beach, driving a big kind of a Cadillac or one of those?”
“A Chrysler, yeah,” said Rich.
“Last season. You know you almost knocked me down?”
“Me? I don’t remember even coming close. Seriously, are you sure it was me? I don’t remember no accident.”
“You wouldn’t remember me, but I remember you. Corner of Thirty-first and Lincoln. You were so busy talking to your lady friend you never even saw me. Or heard me. I really gave it to you, but it was all wasted. I think you were having a little fight with the lady friend. A blonde with those big sun glasses?”
“That could fit forty-five thousand dames in Miami Beach, but I guess it all adds up. I apologize.”
“I knew I seen you some place before. That hair gives you away.”
“Next question. Do I dye it? No, I don’t. I stard getting gray hair when I was twenty-three years of age.”
“I didn’t ask you. That’s none of my business.”
“Well, then you’re the exception because they all ask me,” said Rich.
“That’s funny, because I wasn’t,” she said. “It’s too bad you don’t have that big car tonight. You could ride Ernie and I home.”
“What is this, the needle? You know damn well it was never my car or I wouldn’t be tending bar for a living.”
“Ernie, I thought you said this man never got out of hand with the customers.”
“You’re not a customer, and let’s face it, you got the needle in there pretty deep. But enjoy yourself, the both of you,” said Wigman.
“Yeah, how much do I have to take when I’m not getting paid for it?” said Rich. “You know what I mean? I got the apron off now, a first-class citizen after four A.M. What do you do, June? Are you a hatcheck chick?”
“What if I am?”
“Well, then, relax,” said Rich. “You know what I mean? So you take it all night for a lousy buck, so do I. But here it is close on to five o’clock in the morning and we’re people now. Not only you, but me. What’d somebody give you the big pitch tonight? Is that what’s bugging you?”
“Nothing is bugging me, and nobody gave me any big pitch.”
“Maybe that’s what’s bugging you, nobody give you the pitch. Did I strike oil there, June?”
“Easy does it there, Rich,” said Wigman. “Don’t get personal.”
“You mean I shouldn’t call her June? How’s the cocktail, ma’am?”
“I must say you’re a sarcastic son of a bitch,” said Wigman. “I never realized that before.”
“Oh, I hold it in when I got my apron on, but this is after hours, Ernie.”
“Ernie, huh?” said Wigman.
“All right. Mr. Wigman, if that’s the way you like it. But I coulda been Mr. Hickman in Fort Lauderdale, and then maybe you’da been one of my customers. Mr. Hickman and Mr. Wigman.”
“You coulda been Mr. Hickman in Miami Beach if the broad had the cash, only her husband wouldn’t let her get her hooks on any cash,” said Wigman.
“Now who’s sarcastic?” said Rich.
“I think you’re making a fast load,” said Wigman. “You only had three sitting here—”
“And one when I was mixing her drink, making four.”
“Well, that’s a half a pint in about fifteen minutes,” said Wigman.
“Do you do everything fast?” said June.
“That depends on how you mean that. Some things I take it slow and easy.”
“All right, Rich. Down, boy,” said Wigman.
“The lady asked me a question. I thought she wanted to know. Some things I can take it slow and easy, whereas I know some women don’t like it if you take it slow and easy. Speaking of shaking up a Dackery, for instance.”
“Yeah. Sure. Well, I tell you, Rich,” said Wigman. “I think you better take a slow and easy powder out of here while we’re all still friends. I see you tomorrow night.”
“Okay, Ernie. Okay. Goodnight, Ernie, and good night, June. Watch out for reckless drivers.” He got up and went out the side door.
“The idea asking him does he do everything fast?” said Wigman. “You couldn’t have but only the one meaning to a question like that.”
“So?”
“You mean you go for that guy?”
“I don’t go for anybody. I’m so sick of men. I wouldn’t care if I never saw another man for the rest of my life, the way I feel now.”
“Well, that won’t last.”
“But you’re so right it won’t last. I didn’t say it would last. I was only telling you how I feel now, tonight.”
“Well, you want to go home with me or don’t you? Either way.”
“Put me in a cab and I’ll see you tomorrow night. Here,” she said, and handed him the fifty-dollar bill.
“Forget it, forget it. It’s only human nature. I’m kind of beat too, myself. Let me stash this bottle and I’ll get you a cab.”
They went out together and he hailed a cruising cab. “That’s all I am, Ernie. I’m kind of beat, too. I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah?”
“Sure. Goodnight, kid.”
“Kid. Thirty-six years old. Goodnight, Ernie.”
Wigman hailed another cab, got in, had the driver stop for the morning papers, and proceeded to his hotel. During the night, his night, he had a heart attack and died. His body was found by the waiter who had a standing order to bring his breakfast at one o’clock in the afternoon. Ernie Wigman’s lawyer, Sanford Conn, was out of town and could not be reached, and the place ran itself that night, as it always did when Ernie did not show up. But a policeman had been around, asking questions, and the news of Ernie’s death was known to the bartenders and waiters and kitchen help, and to the regular customers. Rich Hickman took charge. “I’ll close up,” he told the others. They were agreeable; they did not want to have to account for the money in the till.
Rich got the last customer out a few minutes after four in the morning. In the back room was a cop named Edwards, the man on post whom Rich had asked to be there. “I just want you here when I tot up what’s in the till,” said Rich.
“I’m not suppose to do that,” said Edwards.
“Well, do it anyway as a favor.”
“Who to?”
“To Ernie. I think he has a kid somewhere, and Ernie was always all right with you guys. That I happen to know. I just want you to witness that I’m not stealing off a dead man.”
“I won’t sign anything.”
“Who asked you to sign, Edwards? I’ll count it up in front of you, and lock it up in the register and give you the key. Is there anything in the book against that?”
“Nothing in the book against it, but—well, what the hell? All right. But I don’t take any responsibility.”
“You don’t take any responsibility, but this way no son of a bitch is going to say I robbed a dead man.”
“You could of been robbing him all night long, that’s the way I gotta look at it, Hickman.”
“I couldn’t of been robbing him much. All you gotta do is compare tonight with last Tuesday or any Tuesday. If I was robbing him all night long I didn’t get rich on it.”
“I guess that makes sense,” said Edwards. “Go ahead and count it up.”
The cop sat bored on a bar stool while Rich made his count. “Cash on hand, five hundred and twenty-eight dollars and eighty-seven cents. Okay?”
“That’s what it looks like to me,” said Edwards.
“You wouldn’t do me a favor and initial this slip before I lock it up?”
“I guess I can do that,” said Edwards. “There’s somebody at the back door.”
“Let him in, will you? No, you keep your eye on the money. I’ll let him in. I hope it’s his lawyer, a fellow named Conn.”
“Conn is a good name for a lawyer,” said Edwards.
Rich went to the back door, opened it, and admitted June. “Ernie here?” she said.
“No. Come on in,” said Rich.
“What’s with the cop?” said June.
“I’ll tell you later.”
“Trouble? I don’t go for cops.”
“Then wait here.”
“I don’t like this. Where’s Ernie?”
“Ernie is dead.”
“A stick-up?”
“Nothing like that. He had a heart attack. If you’ll sit down I’ll take care of the cop and then I’ll tell you all about it.”
Rich returned to Edwards, put the money in the cash register, and gave Edwards the key. “All right, Edwards?”
“I guess so.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“All right. See you.” Edwards left, and Rich mixed a Rob Roy, put it on a tray and took it to the back room. In his other hand he carried a bottle of bourbon with a shot glass inverted and resting on the cap.
“Ernie had a heart attack at the hotel. They found him around one o’clock yesterday.”
“That’s when he usually had breakfast,” she said. “Are they having a service for him?”
“I don’t have any idea. He had a kid, didn’t he?”
“He had two kids around eighteen and twenty years of age, but I don’t know where they are or any of that. I guess they’ll show up. He was divorced, that I know.”
“I closed up tonight and I had the cop come in to see that I didn’t steal anything out of the till. Do you know Ernie’s lawyer?”
“Sanford Conn, his name is. He had a piece of the joint. I know him from him going out with Ernie and I a couple times.”
“This joint could do a lot better, a lot better. Ernie was a nice guy, but I could of told him ways to save a little here and make a little there. You know Conn, eh?”
“That well. Been out with him and his wife, with Ernie. A young fellow about thirty-five. He’s the lawyer for four or five joints like this, and I think he’s in for a piece of all of them.”
“Then he’s a guy I could go to with a proposition?”
“If there was a buck in it, he’d listen . . . So Ernie cooled. You know I was almost with him last night.”
“How do you mean, almost?”
“Almost is what I said, almost is what I mean. I didn’t go home with him. He put me in a cab outside here. I wouldn’t of liked that, waking up with a dead man.”
“What stopped you from going home with him?”
“Didn’t feel like it. I guess I got so burned up with you that I was sick and tired of men. Now I think of it, Ernie said he was tired, too. I wonder if he knew anything beforehand. He said he was tired.”
“He often said he was tired. I used to say to him, not come right out with it, but he’d sit and put away a quart of bourbon and eat a steak and a whole meal and sometimes he was here for ten-twelve hours, eating and drinking and never get up and walk around. I said to him about a month ago, I said—well, I didn’t say anything, if you want the straight of it. But I thought, this guy he never moves out of his chair, and all that booze and rich food. Ten-twelve hours he’d sit here. They get that way, some of them. I worked for guys that did the very same thing. And they kid themselves that they’re working, just because they’re sitting in their own joint. Work? What work? Why, one of the day men was stealing from him right in front of his very eyes, that’s how much work he was doing.”
“Stealing how?”
“Oh, there’s ways of working with a waiter. There’s plenty of ways you can steal. You steal a little, don’t you? The concession don’t get it all.”
“Most of it. You know, I’d like to have the concession here.”
“Yeah, but would Conn give it to you?”
“Maybe not Conn, but maybe a new owner would. Or a new partner.”
“You mean like if I got to be partners with Conn?”
“You must of attended a mind-reading school,” said June.
“Graduated,” said Rich. “You wouldn’t mind working for me? I got the impression last night you wouldn’t spit in my eye.”
“I wouldn’t be working for you, exactly. I’d have the concession, so I’d be working for myself.”
Rich thought a moment. “Usually the syndicate owns the concession, and they pay so much for it. You know that.”
“I ought to know it after—I been in this business. But here they never had a checkroom. Ernie didn’t want one.”
“I know. But you were softening him up.”
“It’s a lot of money going to waste,” said June. “I could do a hundred and fifty a week here.”
“You could do two hundred, two and a quarter.”
“So?”
“Well, that’s what I think it’s worth, not a hundred and fifty. So if you got it it wouldn’t be on a basis of a hundred and fifty. Don’t play games with me, June.”
“I want to make a little for myself. It’s not all clear profit. All right, so you’re big-hearted and you give me a concession worth maybe two hundred a week. But first you gotta convince Sanford Conn, and who knows Sanford Conn? I do.”
“Yeah, we were coming to that,” said Rich.
“One word from me, either way.”
“Honey, I’m with you. How much money you got, and how much can you raise?”
“Ha ha ha. Would I tell you? How much do you have, and how much can you raise?”
“This is serious. If you could get your hands on fi-thousand dollars, I think I could raise twenty-five. With thirty gees I could talk to Conn. Conn don’t have to know you got the checkroom till him and I make a deal.”
“You want me to put up five thousand dollars for the concession?”
“The way you say that I know you got it.”
“Where is your end coming from?”
“What do you care, or what does Conn care, as long as I get it? I don’t have that kind of money myself, but I can come pretty close to raising it.”
“That dame that you almost killed me with in her car.”
“Good for a little, but not much. She don’t have any cash, only some jewelry.”
“No heist. I don’t want any part of a heist. Don’t even talk about it. I got no record downtown and I want to keep it that way.”
“If I had a record I couldn’t work either. And I’m not talking about a heist. But her and a couple others I know, and a couple liquor salesmen. Plus your five, I could go to Conn with a proposition. This is a very good chance for the both of us, June. And me and you could save rent.”
“Yeah, that was coming, too. You move in with me or I move in with you. Which?”
“You got an apartment, I’d move in with you. I only got a room way the hell up on West Eighty-fourth Street.”
“Where do you think I live? In the Waldorf Towers? I got an apartment but it’s only one room.”
“By the month?”
“What else?”
“We could save money on a lease. Wuddia say?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to think it over. How would I get rid of you if I didn’t like you around?”
“How would you get rid of me? Start leaving your stuff on the floor, your hair curlers all over the can.”
“I’m tidy.”
“I noticed that, or I wouldn’t broach the proposition.”
“I take a bath twice a day, sometimes more,” she said. She snickered.
“What?”
“This way I’d know for sure if you dyed your hair.”
“You wanta know something, I touch it. It’s near all gray, but I touch it.”
“I like it.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, we didn’t talk much about Ernie,” she said.
“No, but we didn’t say anything against him,” said Rich.
“That’s true. We didn’t say anything against him. I guess he was that kind of a guy, Ernie. He checks out and you start forgetting him right away, but at least you don’t say anything against him.”
“Well, he done us a favor,” said Rich.
“You mean you and I getting together? Yeah, if that’s a favor. It’s too soon to tell.”
“I think we’ll work out all right, June.”
“Maybe we will. And if we don’t—”
“You can start leaving hair curlers around.”
She smiled. “Yes,” she said. “If they all would of been that easy to get rid of.”
“What are you, divorced?”
“Twice. What about you? Are you divorced?”
“No, I never got married. I came close a couple times, but something always happened, so I never had it legal. You know, I go south in the winter, and when the season’s over I come north or I been to the coast a couple times, working.”
“This’d be the first time you ever settled down? I mean with a place. I don’t know, Rich.”
“You worried about your five gees?”
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“Don’t worry about it. I like you. I knew that right away last night. I would of gone after you, Ernie or no Ernie.”
“Yeah, and I wouldn’t of run away from you. I didn’t have anything permanent with Ernie.”
There was a banging on the side door and Rich went to the door and peered out at two men. “I don’t know these guys,” he said. There was a roller shade on the door and similar shades on the windows of the back room. “We’re closed,” he shouted, and let the shade fall back in place. The banging was resumed.
“Maybe you better see what they want,” said June.
“I think I heard one of them say Hickman,” said Rich. “Will I take a chance?”
“Talk to them through the door,” said June.
Rich opened the door a few inches, and immediately it was pushed against him and he was driven out of the way. “What’s the idea?” said Rich.
“What’s the idea? What’s your idea?” said one of the men. Then he saw June at the table. “Hello, June.”
“Hello, Sandy. It’s all right, Rich. This is Sandy Conn.”
“You’re kinda rough, Mr. Conn,” said Rich.
“Maybe, and you’re kind of stupid. Close the door, Jack,” Conn commanded his companion. Jack was obviously a hoodlum, a muscle man.
“I heard you were out of town,” said Rich.
“You’re Hickman, the bartender?” said Conn.
“Yes. I heard you were out of town and I decided to take care of everything till you got back.”
“Yeah, yeah. All right, what’s in the till?”
“Five hundred and twenty-eight dollars and some cents,” said Rich. “In the register.”
“A good thing it isn’t in your pocket. Give me the key,” said Conn, extending his hand.
“I don’t have it. I gave it to Edwards, the cop on the beat.”
“You what?”
“I can vouch for that,” said June.
“You? I wouldn’t ask you to vouch. You’re in with this fellow now. Give me the key or do I get Jack here to take it away from you? Whichever one of you has the key, hand it over. I don’t care which one Jack has to take it away from. Do you, Jack? You have any objection to wrestling with a woman?”
Jack laughed.
“I guess not,” said Conn.
“Call the precinct, if you don’t believe me,” said Rich. “But if this goon gets any closer to me or her, I break this bottle over his head. Then I take care of you, Mr. Conn. You I could handle easily.”
“I could almost handle you myself, Sandy,” said June. “This man is telling the truth, you silly son of a bitch. He was protecting your interest.”
“I ain’t worried about the bottle, Mr. Conn,” said Jack.
“I’m thinking,” said Conn. “What’d you say the name of this cop was?”
“Edwards. He’s a patrolman.”
“You don’t have to tell me. If he was a sergeant I’d know him.” Conn went to the telephone booth and was gone about five minutes. “I guess I owe you an apology,” he said, when he returned. “Edwards has the key.” He turned to Jack. “Okay, Jack. Thanks.”
“That’s all?” said Jack.
“Come around the office tomorrow and I’ll give you a check.”
“You wouldn’t have five or ten on you?” said Jack.
“Here,” said Conn, handing him a bill. “Goodnight, Jack.”
“Thanks, Mr. Conn. Goodnight all,” said Jack, leaving.
Conn sat down, across the table from June. “Too bad about Ernie, but the amount of liquor he consumed. Where you from, Hickman?”
“Why?”
“Well, I liked the way you took charge tonight. I like a take-charge guy. Bill Dickey, you remember used to catch for the Yanks? A real take-charge guy. You ever owned a joint, or managed one?”
“No.”
“I know you got no police record, but give me the names of some places where you worked before.”
“Why?”
“Well, June here will tell you, I got an interest in five other saloons. I kind of specialize in cafés.”
“That’s what you specialize in?” said Rich.
“I got other clients, naturally, but I been building up a café-owner practice.”
“I thought there for a minute you specialized in something else.”
“Like what? Explain.”
“Like hiring some goon to beat up a woman,” said Rich.
Conn tapped his fingernails on the table and watched Rich in silence. “Don’t start anything, Hickman,” he said presently.
“Jack ought to be a long way off by this time,” said Rich.
“You lay a hand on me and it goes on your record downtown.”
“Then I better make it good, huh?” said Rich.
Conn pointed to June. “She don’t work, either.”
“I’d of been in great shape after Jack got through with me, too,” said June.
“What’ll we do with him, June?” said Rich.
“If it was me, I’d kill him.”
“What’d be the best way?” said Rich.
“Knock him out and dump him in the river. You got a car,” said June.
“I told you the car don’t belong to me, June.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. You got any other suggestions?”
“They got a walk-in icebox back in the kitchen. We could leave him there.”
“I know you’re kidding, you two,” said Conn. “I tell you—”
“Shut up,” said Rich, and slapped him hard on both cheeks. “I got a better idea.” He got a hammer lock on Conn’s left arm and forced him to his feet. He pushed him forward and kept pushing him through the cellar door, down the steps, and into a closet that was lined on both walls with wine bins and case goods. He closed the door and locked it.
“Will he suffocate?” said June.
“No. But I’ll bet he has a headache by the time they find him. He can holler his head off and nobody’ll hear him.”
“How long’ll he be there?”
“Oh, the day man comes on around ten o’clock. That gives him around five hours. In the dark. It’s gonna seem longer.”
“I hope,” said June.
They went upstairs, and in the back room he said: “Well, have a good look at the joint. You won’t be seeing it again.”
“No,” she said.
They went out the side door, and as they headed west she took his arm. “You,” she said.
“That’s right,” he said. “Me.”
(1960)