Chapter 5
Conway woke up with a rancid taste in his mouth, something not unlike old socks. He lay on the bed, trying to get his bearings by staring up at the fly-specked ceiling.
When that didn't work he moved his head to one side. The view wasn't much better. Just a dirty curtain fluttering in front of an open window.
Where the hell was he? Conway searched his memory. Things came back that he wished he could suppress. There was Clancy's, then the lake and finally raping the girl. What after that?
He found his cigarettes, but in order to reach the pack he had to swing his feet over the edge of the bed. He lit one and enjoyed the first acrid taste of the day.
Now he was able to look out of the window. Still no help. The room was on a ventilator shaft, and all he could see were other dirty rooms across die way.
From the noise of an elevator he figured he was in some kind of a hotel. Where? A niche of memory came back. After taking the dame in the tunnel he'd flagged down a cab and asked to be taken to a place where he could sleep.
This had been the result. Conway looked around the place. Some taste that cab driver had. This joint was one step worse than the motel in Joliet.
He managed to get to his feet, fighting the waves of nausea passing over him. The bathroom had to be around here someplace. He found it by following the sounds of running water. For some reason he was plagued with faulty Johns lately.
Conway splashed his face and toweled himself off. That helped. He returned to the bed and sat down, staring at the phone, wondering if this joint had room service. There was only one way to find out, he decided. As luck would have it a tired voice told him they'd be happy to send up coffee.
Now he began to retrace his steps since leaving prison. He felt as if he were treading an endless belt. Nothing was ever really accomplished. At this rate he'd still be fumbling around when his ten days were UP Conway was too tired for such kind of thoughts. He dismissed most of them from his mind and concentrated on smoking a second cigarette.
The knock at the door told him the coffee had arrived. He opened the panel and accepted the tray gratefully. "Just where the hell am I?" he asked the young bellhop.
"It ain't the Ritz," the youth grinned. "Quit the wisecracks," Conway growled. "Does this place have an address?"
The bellboy accepted the two bucks he'd been given and grinned even more broadly. "You're at the Beverly. It's on the near North Side. Right around Kedzie and Madison." He handed a paper over to Conway. "I thought you might like this."
Conway closed the door and tossed the paper on the bed. The last thing in the world he was interested in was the news.
Ten minutes later he'd finished his coffee and had begun to feel pretty good. It was only then that he had the nerve to pick up the paper.
Conway's hands shook a little as he scanned the first page. He fully expected the news of the rape to be announced in blaring headlines.
Nothing.
Slightly relieved, Conway went through the rest of the paper in a hurry. He breathed a sigh when he saw no mention of what had happened the evening before. It began to look as if he was home safe.
Still it didn't make sense. He'd taken that dame good. Surely she'd gone screaming to the cops.
Conway thought over what he'd done, and he didn't feel proud of it. He'd been stupid. Supposing someone had come along. There would have gone the ball game.
And on top of everything else he'd been dumb enough to flag down a cab within three blocks of where he'd taken her.
Conway lit a cigarette, shaking his head, wondering how he could have been so nuts. With forty thousand at stake he'd acted like a two-year-old kid.
The worst part of the deal was the girl. He couldn't get her out of his mind. What was she thinking about today? Was she embarrassed or ashamed? Was she even alive? Maybe he'd killed her and she was still lying in that tunnel.
Conway went to the window and stared out at the wind shaft. He realized he was thinking wild thoughts. But deep down he knew he was feeling shame for the first time in his life. It was one thing being a crook but another taking advantage of a dame when she couldn't defend herself. Sweet talking a woman's pants off was within the rules. Raping her wasn't.
Conway could see into the room across the way and while he watched, a couple came in through the door. From this distance the woman looked young and quite attractive. He'd never seen anyone strip quite as fast. Within two minutes she was down to a loosened garter belt that dangled from her stockings. The last thing Conway saw before she pulled down the shade was a man's hand reaching through her legs from behind. It didn't take much imagination to know what happened next.
Conway turned back into his room, wondering if the whole world had gone sex-happy.
But he had problems of his own. His first move should be getting the hell out of this flea trap. If that cab driver talked, he'd lead the law right to him.
Conway dressed quickly then left the room and descended into the so-called lobby of the hotel. A few men sat around watching a beat up television show on a beat-up set. No one paid him any attention as he slipped through the front door onto the street.
Once in the open Conway took a deep breath, trying to rid himself of the stench of the place he'd just left. He walked quickly down the street in search of a drug store and a pack of cigarettes.
He found what he was after and made his purchase. He was about to leave when he spotted the phone booth over in a corner. Conway debated whether to make a call or not. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to make sure his dough was still safe. It would be a sad laugh if all of his efforts had been for nothing.
Conway found a dime and looked up the number in the phone book. Finding what he was after he dropped the money into the slot and started dialing. Three rings later a sweet, sexy, feminine voice answered. Northside Storage," she said.
Conway took a deep breath before continuing. A great deal depended on this call. "This is Mr. Ryan," he said. "I left a package there for you to store three years ago. I plan on being in to pick it up in a day or so and want to make sure you still have it."
The girl on the phone was at the same time business-like and apologetic. 'Tim sorry, Mr. Ryan, but our policy is to sell at auction all goods left for more than a year."
A fine sweat broke out on Conway's forehead. "Look," he said, trying not to show his nervousness. "I made a deal with your Mr. Lake. I paid him five year's rent in advance."
"Oh," the girl said. "That is too bad. Do you have a receipt."
"My signature was to be my claim check."
If Conway was on the verge of panic the operator's next sentence almost sent him over the edge. "I'm afraid that won't do you much good," she said. "Mr. Lake died last year."
Conway had to grip the phone to keep from falling through the floor. Visions of missing hundred-dollar bills floated in front of him. "Are you sure?" he asked. His voice sounded strange.
The girl hesitated a moment He could hear her breathing into the mouthpiece as she thought over the problem. "Perhaps I'd better check. Please hang on."
Conway wondered if she was checking whether Lake was dead or if he still had a package in the place. In either case the next three minutes were an eternity.
When the girl returned, her voice had a freshness to it. "I saw our Mr. Myers," she said. "He took over Mr. Lake's job. Apparently you are correct. We do have a storage contract with you. As you say, well need your signature for identification. When will you pick it up?"
"Soon," Conway promised. It was all he could say. He hung up the phone, his clothes sticking to him from the sweat his body had developed. It had been close, mighty close. He blessed Northside Storage for being such an efficient organization.
Once out on the sidewalk again, Conway congratulated himself on his cleverness. Despite the close call everything was working out perfectly. Who in the world would have thought he'd stash the money in a commercial warehouse?
Actually it had been the only choice he'd bad. Conway thought back to that day when Shorty had come bursting out of the bank with that guard blasting away at him. Conway remembered being so scared "he'd damned near wet his pants. After all, up to that point his biggest crimes had been petty heists. Nobody shoots at you for that kind of stuff.
But there'd he'd been, right in the line of fire. His only thought had been to get away. In a dying gasp Shorty had called for him to stop, and Conway had. The little man had managed to toss the bag he was carrying in through the open window. At that point Shorty had collapsed onto the street and Conway had hit the gas.
He'd only gone a couple of miles when he realized he might get caught. If that happened he wanted to have something waiting for him when he got out.
The packing box piled beside some garbage cans had given him his big idea. He took the carton along with him and stuffed the money bag into the excelsior, unopened, then sealed the whole mess up and driven to a storage warehouse. As far as they'd been concerned he was just another stud.
Conway walked along the street, chuckling to himself at the perfection of the scheme. Not one cop or insurance man had tumbled to his idea.
Now he paused, working out his next move. Even though he hated the thought he knew he'd better return to Margo's place and get cleaned up. He only hoped she was as tired as he was.
As luck would have it Margo wasn't home. Conway moved through the apartment, hoping he wouldn't find her. He didn't.
He fixed himself a drink, kicked off his shoes, sat down on the couch and relaxed. It was then he saw the note propped up on the coffee table. He picked up the paper and scanned the neat handwriting. 'Where were you last night?' it read. 'I was lonesome. Have gone to repay an obligation. I may 'be late. If you're hot go take a swim. There's a pool in the patio and a suit in my bottom drawer ... Love, Margo."
Conway fingered the note, considering what it said. He wondered if this was the joker who owned the car. Better she should have rented one. It would have proved cheaper in the long run.
In a way he was sorry that she wouldn't be home. It seemed crazy, but he did like having her around. You had to say one thing about Margo, she was honest. If he ever was foolish enough to marry her, life certainly wouldn't be dull.
He again thought of the girl he'd raped the night before. The memory of her had hung over him all day like a black pall. He damned his foolishness for the umpteenth time. He'd done a lot of things in his short life, but nothing had ever bothered him so.
Conway solved the problem temporarily by pouring and drinking another whiskey. When he finished he reflected on the idea of a swim. It might not be such a bad idea at that. He was hot, and the thought of cool water was tempting.
The suit was where Margo had written it would be. He cleaned up, found a razor in her medicine chest and shaved. That done, he left her apartment and started out in search of the pool.
Finding the patio proved a great deal more difficult than it appeared on the surface. His first mistake was going down to the ground floor. No luck.
Now where the hell could a pool hide, he asked himself, feeling stupid standing in the first floor lobby in his swimming suit.
"Hey you, sonny," someone called out to him.
Conway bristled at the crack and looked up to find the source.
A stud with a fancy uniform and big brass buttons was coming toward him. He didn't look exactly happy. "I thought I told you guys you couldn't sneak in here and swim," the man growled when he came closer.
Conway had always been thin-skinned concerning his youthful appearance. There had been a time when he'd considered a mustache so he'd look older. Up to now he thought prison had done the job for him. "You talking to me, Mac?" he snapped.
"Now who else would I be talking to? the man said, his voice surly. "Beat it before I toss you out." He jabbed a thumb toward the entrance for added emphasis.
It wasn't easy but Conway held his temper. "Don't Mac me," he growled. "I'm staying here."
"They all say that."
Conway dangled the key to Margo's apartment beneath his nose. "I mean it."
The doorman stared from the key to Conway and back again. He was unsure of himself now.
Conway let him off the hook. He didn't want any fights. He was too tired. "Just tell me where the damned pool is and I'll get out of here all right," he said.
"I'm sorry," the man apologized. "I thought...." He changed the subject quickly. "The patio is on the roof. I would appreciate it if you'd take the back elevator. It's reserved for bathers."
Conway dug into his shorts and brought out a quarter, flipping it insolently toward the doorman. "Thanks, Mac," he grinned. "See you around."
The elevator was where it was supposed to be. And, as the doors opened onto the roof, so was the patio.
But still no pool. Conway moved onto the empty flagging, looking around. It was then he saw a fenced-in area to his left. That had to be it, he decided, heading that way.
It was. Conway saw the crescent-shaped water first. Then, as he looked around, he saw the girls. There were at least a dozen of them, some swimming, some sitting, others stretched out on the imported sand. A broad grin split his face. Damned if he hadn't wandered into the Garden of Eden, he thought.
Conway felt a little timid as he walked into the readymade harem. He found a chair and sat down, trying to ignore the giggling of several of the girls. The one closest to him, a red-haired beauty smiled a greeting.
"Hi," she said simply.
Conway lit a cigarette to cover his nervousness. "Hi yourself." He waved at the gathering of females. "What's this? Some kind of club?"
The young woman across from him shook her head. Her long hair brushed against her bare shoulders. "Nope. We're stewardesses. This is our Chicago home."
"I should fly more often," Conway grunted.
A luscious blonde lying on the sand a few feet away lifted herself on her elbows, looking at him. She'd undone her halter to get more sun. Most of her breasts came into view. Only the nipples remained hidden. "You're cute," she said. "You just move in?"
It was an effort for him to tear his eyes away from those big boobs. "You could say that," he agreed. "I'm staying with Margo Peters."
"Oh her," a black-haired girl seated on the edge of the pool murmured.
Conway devoted the next hour to fun and games. He didn't swim. Watching the girls was much more interesting. One by one he learned their names, but none of the handles stuck, only that of the redhead who'd spoken to him first. She was Linda.
These kids liked to let their hair down, and here, in the privacy of the fence-surrounded pool they did just that. It was hard for him to imagine any of them as very efficient things in uniform serving lunch on a plane.
It almost seemed to Conway that they were showing off for his benefit. It was as good as having a ring-side seat at a burlesque show. Better in fact. The bikini suits covered less territory than any stripper outfit.
As the afternoon wore on the girls began to vanish one by one, announcing that they had to get out to the airport, making certain Conway knew their room numbers for future reference.
Finally only Conway and the redheaded Linda were left. She hadn't moved from that chair since he'd arrived, keeping herself covered with a towel the whole time.
"Some gab," Conway grunted.
Linda smiled. "You missed a golden opportunity. There wasn't one of them that didn't want you for a bed partner."
"They sure like to live fast," Conway reflected out loud.
"Why not. If there's a chance of dying tomorrow you might as well get in your kicks today." Conway hadn't thought of it that way. "You feel the
.in..
Linda yawned languidly, sticking her knees from beneath the towel. They were nice legs. "I suppose I do," she admitted.
"Don't you have a plane to catch?"
"I'm off today," she explained. The girl looked at Conway intently. "Just what is your relationship with Margo?"
"Friend of the family," Conway grinned. "Oh, another one of those."
He caught the bitter tone of her voice. "Somehow I get the feeling you don't like Margo," Conway said.
Linda nodded. "That's right. You might even say I hate her guts. In fact we all do."
"How come?"
The girl sighed and patted some loose hairs into place. "Margo is just about the hottest tomato I've ever known," she said slowly. "She moved into the apartment house about two weeks ago and since then she's made more enemies than the Russians."
This was a surprise to Conway. Somehow he had the feeling Margo had lived here a long time. He said nothing, not wanting to interrupt the girl.
"I think she's had a man every afternoon and night since she came in," Linda went on. If she doesn't take one in her apartment, she does it in the car, or elevator or up here."
Conway couldn't see the point. "I don't see where that concerns you," he said.
Linda looked at him, her eyes flashing. "They're our men," she said angrily. Margo has snatched everyone of our boy friends away from us."
Conway was both amused and annoyed at the story. If he'd doubted before that Margo had changed he was sure of it now.
"Not only that," Linda said. "But last week Margo invited all of the men to her birthday party. No women. From what I hear it was nothing but a three-hour orgy in which she made the rounds as many times as she could before her strength gave out." She shook her head. "I can't stand a vulgar woman." She got to her feet and walked quickly to the edge of the pool. "I think I'll take a swim and cool off," she announced.
Conway watched as the girl hesitated long enough to cover her red hair with a bathing cap and then dive in. She swam the width and back and climbed out. He walked over to where she was sitting on the edge. Looking down at her he had a good view of the breasts. "How is it?" he asked.
"Fine. You ought to try it."
Conway did just that. He swam through the tepid water and returned, hanging onto the edge just in front of her. She seemed to be looking at him strangely.
"What are you doing up here anyway," Linda asked. "Waiting your turn?"
The truth of it was that was exactly what Conway was doing. The thought annoyed him. "I'm my own boss," he growled.
Linda smiled. "It would be something if I could beat Margo at her own game and take a man away from her for a change ... temporarily at least. Her fingers fiddled with the small bows that held the bottom of her suit in place.
"You propositioning me?" Conway grinned.
Linda bent over and kissed him. "Yes, I am," she admitted softly. When she straightened up half her suit was gone, the vital half. "Do I intrigue you?" she smiled, watching where he was looking.
Conway sucked in his breath. Damned if she wasn't red all over, he reflected. He slid his hands to her legs, and Linda shivered when he touched her boldly.
"Nice," she murmured.
"Let's get going," Conway said. He was getting a little warm from staring at her. She'd moved her legs slightly, and the view was lovely.
"We don't have to go anywhere. No one uses the pool after four."
Conway looked around. The place was certainly deserted enough.
"This can be the only time," Linda was saying softly as she shed her halter and tossed it aside. The sun glistened on her breasts now riding freely on her stomach. She was a beautiful nymph sitting there nude on the edge of the pool.
Conway transferred his hand over to the inside of her thigh, running it up as far as it would go and gently stroking her. "Let's make it a good one," he suggested.
Linda nodded her agreement and leaned back until her breasts arched upward in a gentle curve. "I love what you're doing. You could keep that up all day."
"It gets better," Conway promised. She helped things along by raising her feet from the water and resting her ankles on his shoulders, pushing herself toward him.
"Kiss me," she said weakly. She emphasized her request by pulling him to her and holding him tightly against the warmth of her body, wiggling against the ecstasy she felt. "I love that," she murmured. "It drives me crazy."
Within minutes the couple had risen to vast heights. Only then did Linda slide off the lip of the pool. She wrapped her legs about him, seeking him out. When she found him she moaned softly and held herself for him. At his first touch she held herself tightly against him, driving back.
When their move was complete Linda opened her eyes. "I've never had it this good," she admitted. "I don't believe any man has ever done this well."
Conway pressed against her. The breasts were two flattened spheres against his chest.
Linda brought her mouth against his. "Love me," she whispered. "Love me real good."
Conway did his best. He ground himself at her until their motion was almost a blur. He peaked quickly and was almost sorry that he had. Linda had had plenty of experience with men, and as he shuddered she sighed and relished what he was doing.
There was only one trouble that plagued him. This wasn't Linda against him. He was again with that young girl back in the tunnel.
Linda aroused him from his dreams as she pulled away from him. "That was lovely," she smiled. "I've never been had quite like that before. I'D probably be sore for a week."
Conway watched as she left the pool. She found a towel and rubbed herself vigorously. Her breasts slapped noiselessly against her body. She lifted one of the fullnesses toward him.
"You didn't even use them," she pouted.
He climbed out of the water and approached her. "It's never too late," he grinned.
Linda avoided him. "It is too late," she said somewhat regretfully. "I do have, a dinner date."
"Will your boy friend get to use them?"
"Of course," Linda smiled.
Conway touched her. "I suppose he'll get more too."
"We're getting married next week," Linda explained. "I suppose you could say he has a lease."
"That makes you unavailable in the future?"
Linda dropped her towel. Still naked, she brought her body against his, making room for him. "I suppose it does," she said regretfully. She added hopefully, "But I'm not married yet."
"You sound as if you want it again."
"Of course I do," Linda said softly, her breathing becoming ragged. She rubbed her belly against his like a cat in heat.
"You'll be late," Conway warned.
She worked his lips with hers, her hands on his bare buttocks holding him tightly against her while she pushed at him in a regular rhythm. "To heck with it," she murmured. "It isn't often a woman is this fortunate."
Conway felt no excitement from the woman this time. Making her had been too easy. His mind went back to the girl in the park. That was the way to make love. He pushed Linda away gently. "I've got to get downstairs," he explained.
At the words her anger came back. "You still prefer Margo to me?" she snapped.
"It's nothing like that," Conway protested.
Linda picked up her robe and put it on. "That damned woman," she spat. "Just what kind of a hypnotic effect has she on you men anyhow?" Without saying another word she stalked off and vanished into the elevator.
Conway shook his head and lit a cigarette. He had the definite feeling that he'd just served as a pawn between two women. But what the hell, he thought. Why should he complain? It had been fun. He headed for the apartment.
This time the room was like a trap. Things Linda had said kept running through his head. In a little while Conway had worked 'himself up to a point where he would have hated to see Margo come through the door.
He also thought of the girl in the park. Even though he felt lousy about what he'd done, he couldn't forget the pleasure of it.
Conway took a couple of drinks and followed them with a shower.
Nothing helped. An hour later he was still at the window watching darkness settle over the city. A thousand colorful lights winked on beneath him.
Conway saw none of it. He only heard a hundred noises, fearful lest any of them prove to be Margo coming back, looking for more sex.
He reached into his pocket for a fresh cigarette. This time a small card spilled out along with the pack. Conway held it to the light, puzzled. Then he remembered, the thing he'd taken from the girl's purse last night, this was it.
He scanned the printing beneath the light. Much to his surprise it was a library card issued by the University of Chicago, issued to one Teddy Grinson.
At that Conway knew that he shouldn't have been too amazed. It figured that this girl, Teddy, should be a student. She'd been out for a walk after classes.
He started to throw it away and decided against it. What the hell, with Linda's needling he didn't feel much like hanging around here to face Margo. As long as he had nothing better to do why didn't he run over and make sure this Teddy was all right?