Chapter 6
Conway's intent had been good when he'd started out. Now, as the cab drew closer to the scene of his last evening's stupid rape, he began to wonder if this was so smart after all.
This dame didn't really mean anything to him. She was one among thousands. Why was he going to all this bother? What worried Conway more than anything else was the fact that he might be getting a conscience.
In his business this was something he couldn't afford. He knew that the world was a rough place. The only way you could get ahead was to knock everybody else out of the way. Wasn't that how he'd made it this far?
Conway lighted a cigarette and nodded to himself. He was right. It paid to be tough.
But just how far had he gotten? He was twenty-three years old. Out of that time he'd spent eight years in a reform school and three in prison. That wasn't too good a record.
Conway tried to ignore the ranting of his inner voice. He'd heard it all before. He returned to the problem at hand.
All he wanted to do was make sure the girl was all right. When that was accomplished he'd leave happily. Just how he'd do this was a little hazy. He could hardly go up to her and say, "Pardon me, miss, but Pm the man that raped you last night. Are you all right?" Conway grinned to himself at the thought of doing anything so silly. Certainly he could think of something a little more clever.
However, when the driver left him out near the indicated address Conway still wasn't sure of himself. He looked around him and saw that this was the urban renewal section he'd passed through last night. He was surrounded by massive twenty-story concrete apartment houses that made him feel closed in.
It took him a few minutes to locate the address matching the one on the card. He went into the coldly functional lobby and looked up the name, Grinson, on the mailboxes. He'd hoped he wouldn't find it. As luck would have it, it was there.
Was he nuts, Conway asked himself. Supposing the dame recognized him and started screaming for the cops? He was ahead now. Why not stay that way?
But there was something deep inside him that would let him retreat. Cursing his new-found conscience, Conway took an elevator to the indicated floor.
Now he was at her door, and he still didn't have an excuse. Why didn't he just say he'd knocked at the wrong door when she answered the door. In a joint as big as this that would be a natural mistake.
The idea appealed to him. Conway raised his fist and rapped hard at the panel.
There were sounds of scurrying around inside. Then all was quiet and Conway felt relief. Nobody would answer. To hell with the rape scene.
He knew better than that. He'd heard somebody in there. He knocked again, harder. This time footsteps approached the door. It cracked a little and a shapeless face filled the opening.
"What the hell you selling, buster?" the woman snapped. "Whatever it is I ain't buying."
Conway hadn't expected this kind of a reception. Now his excuse about the wrong apartment was up in smoke. "Is Teddy home?" he asked, trying to shield his nervousness.
"What the hell's it to you?" the woman barked. "I'm a friend of hers."
The woman's face broke into a broad grin. It didn't help her looks much. "Oh," she said, suddenly friendly. "You must be one of Teddy's school chums."
"Yeah," Conway agreed. "I'm one of her school chums."
The woman pulled the door wide open. Conway wished she hadn't. He had several instant impressions. One was that he'd never seen such a messy apartment. There was junk strewn in every direction. Papers on the floor, torn magazines on the couch. The place needed a good broom.
His second impression was of the woman herself. She had wrinkles in her face that were almost a foot deep. She'd tried to cover them with some kind of cheap makeup. The robe wrapped around her ample frame had been white at one time. It certainly needed one of those magic soaps right now.
"Come on in," the woman invited, stepping back from the doorway. "Any friend of Teddy's is a friend of mine." She extended a fat hand. "I'm her mother."
"Is she here?"
The woman closed the door and Conway felt suddenly trapped. "Nope. She's working tonight. Tough luck.
How about a drink. I've got some good whiskey." Before Conway could answer he had a glass shoved into his hand. He'd never tasted such cheap booze.
At that point he became aware of a second figure coming into the room. He was still fastening his pants so it wasn't hard to figure what the two of them had been doing. No wonder there'd been so much scuffling when he'd knocked.
"This here is Hank," the woman said, nodding at the slender man standing by the doorway. "He's a friend of Teddy's and mine."
Conway wanted out of this madhouse ... now. He swallowed his drink and started for the door. "I'd better leave," he announced. He thought of a quick excuse. "I've got a class."
"Sure," the woman said good naturedly. "I know how it is with you college fellas."
Conway hesitated. "Just where is Teddy working?"
The woman screwed up her brow, as if thinking. "I ain't sure I should tell you," she said slowly. 'Teddy warned me to keep it quiet." Her face brightened as she added, "But you look like the kind of a guy I'd like in the family. Go down at PETER'S on 49th. You'll find her there."
Conway thanked her and bolted the apartment, not satisfied until he was back on the street. Only then did he take time to think.
He now knew for sure that this girl, Teddy, was okay. He no longer had any reason for hanging around.
Still, he reflected, maybe it wouldn't hurt to have a look at her. He was a little curious concerning what she was like in the light.
His mind made up, Conway motioned for a cab.
PETER'S didn't look like much from the outside. It was little more than a plain, black door set in a fancy exterior with the name imprinted above the woodwork.
While he watched, a half dozen men went through that door. From die sounds drifting out Conway gathered it was some sort of bar.
Just what the hell would a college girl be doing in such a joint, he pondered. He supposed she could be keeping the books.
Conway finally worked up the nerve to approach that black panel. It was then he saw the smaller lettering just above the knob: FOR KEY CLUB MEMBERS ONLY
Conway was just thinking that over when another party of men came along. He stepped aside and let them pass. But just before that door closed he slid in behind them.
Once inside, the joint was as dark as a cave. He blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes used to the lack of light. When he could finally see he realized the room was smaller than he would have imagined. Booths lined all four walls. In the center was a circular bar, above which was what seemed to be a small stage.
Just then a waitress breezed past him carrying a tray full of drinks and Conway almost lost his uppers. She had on a strapless bra that lay low on her ample breasts, and a pair of brief white panties through which her coloration showed. There was also a garter belt, the straps of which snaked down beneath the nylons and held up a pair of jet-black stockings. She looked as she'd forgotten to put her dress on.
Conway realized that he'd now seen everything. Whoever had thought up that costume had been a genius. He made his way to the bar and sat down, looking back into the room. There were other girls, equally as undressed, serving the tables. The only change was in the color of their underwear. Some wore pink, some black, but all pretty much transparent.
"You new here?" the bartender asked, coming up to him.
Conway spun around and grinned. "I sure as hell am. How do they get away with all this?"
The man on the other side of the wood was big and husky and must have stood well over six feet tall. "This is a private club. The cops don't bother us. You got to have a key to get in here."
"Yeah," Conway agreed. "I know."
"Where's your key?"
"I haven't got any. I was curious and came in after a bunch of guys." He couldn't see any reason to lie to this big bruiser.
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to breeze right out again," the man said. He didn't seem too unfriendly.
Conway placed a twenty on the bar. "Will this do as a substitute?"
The big man smiled and pocketed the money. "No reason it shouldn't. I got to earn a living just like anybody else. Besides, you're too young to be a cop."
"That's about the size of it," Conway agreed. "I think I'd better have a drink."
While he was waiting for his order he watched a waitress come up to the far end of the bar and grab a brief smoke of her cigarette. Her bra was the most interesting of all. It was net and each nipple poked its way through the lace.
The bartender returned. He slid Conway's whiskey at him and collected two bucks.
"Do these dames put out?" Conway asked.
"You interested?"
"I don't think I could afford the prices."
"You're probably right. They like a C-note. But stick around. If the tips are good enough they'll get rid of the bras." He glanced at his watch. "Besides, we got a show coming up in twenty minutes. The little lady goes down to the buff, and she's got a body that won't quit."
Conway thought of what he'd come in here for and started asking another question. However at that point the bartender slid off to handle another customer.
It didn't really matter anyhow, Conway decided. That dame back in the apartment had been mistaken. Her daughter didn't work here. Teddy had probably given her mother a false steer so she could stay out at night.
In either case the next twenty minutes were quite enjoyable. Conway had never spent much time people-watching, but this was different. Most of the men in the room were obviously wheels of one kind or another.
The first break came when the dark-haired girl brought fresh drinks to the boisterous crowd in the far corner. One of them whispered something to her. In return she reached behind her and unhooked her bra without the slightest hesitation, pulling it off and dropping it onto the table. Even from Conway's distance she had big boobs. The men all gave her a good feel before she was able to break away.
Conway swung around. This looking without doing was rough on him.
At that point the bartender put a record on a player, and the room was immediately smothered in a tune with a strong beat. He flipped a switch and the stage above the bar was bathed in lights from spots set in the ceiling.
Conway stared at the empty platform, wondering what was about to happen.
He didn't have to wait long. The girl came into view with quiet suddenness and stood there silently, not smiling, taking in die cheers of the assembled men.
All except Conway. He didn't cheer. He was too surprised. The blonde dancer in front of him was familiar, too familiar. This was Teddy, the one he'd raped last night.
It hit him like a blow to the head. Now he knew for sure what a dope he'd been. All day long he'd been worried about what he might have done to this dame. And what did she turn out to be? A stripper. A com mon, ordinary, everyday burlesque queen who'd probably have given it to him if he'd asked.
Conway angrily smashed out his cigarette, wanting to butt his head against any available wall. He'd never felt quite as foolish as he did at this moment. This would serve him right for listening to his conscience.
Conway felt like walking out of this joint. Still, he'd paid high prices for his drinks. He figured he might as well get his money's worth.
The slithering stripper was wearing a tight-fitting, neck-hugging dress that did full justice to her ample figure. She started her act by moving in time to the music. It quickly became obvious that she wasn't a very good dancer. Not that it mattered. None of the men present were looking at her feet. She undressed slowly, as if she were in the privacy of her own bedroom. First the dress came off, then the half slip covering the lower half of her body. Her long hair flowed down across the breast-filled bra. She took it off next, and her bared bosom hobbled into the open.
Just a pair of panties was left. She stripped these off like skin from a banana. Now nude, the young girl just stood there motionless, staring down at the people beneath her feet, letting them have a good look.
And she was something to see. Even Conway, despite his anger, had to admit this. He knew now that he hadn't fully appreciated what he'd had beneath him the evening before. Her body had the beauty of a Venus. It was perfectly proportioned from head to toe. The breasts were big, huge might even be the word. But they were perfectly controlled, drifting down and then outward in a perfect arc. The waist was so slender than a man could well get both hands about it with no trouble. Her hips flared out in a gentle curve then sloped down to legs that might have been carved from stone.
Her hair reached down as far as her flat stomach.
Below this was another area of golden beauty; this image could easily drive a man mad if he stared too long.
Conway had the odd sensation he was looking at a statue in some famous museum.
But her movement spoiled the illusion. The young girl went through a series of bumps and grinds calculated to move everything in view. She did a good job of shaking things up, both on and off the stage. However her actions seemed wooden and amateurish.
The record ended; she wiggled her fanny one more time and vanished. No amount of cheering was able to bring her back, and the men in the room finally had to return to their waitress friends.
Conway had been shaken by the performance. He really didn't know why. He did know that he could really use another session with her, this time with her eyes looking up into his. He figured this should be easy to arrange.
The bartender came up to him and nodded at the stage. "What did you think of our little act?" he asked.
"Not bad," Conway admitted. "How's about buying the little lady a little drink?"
"And taking her home to bed with you?" The barkeep had read his mind.
"Something like that."
The man in the red jacket shook his head. "No dice. Teddy is strictly a hands-off dish. She does one show a night and goes straight home."
"You're kidding."
The bartender raised his left hand. "So help me. Everything in the joint's for sale but her." He leaned forward as if in confidence. "Now I think you'd better blow. About this time of night the boss does the rounds, making sure everybody's got a key. Things get rough after midnight, and he don't like no strangers around."
Conway could have argued that he hadn't had his twenty bucks' worth. He didn't. He'd found what he'd come after. Not that it had left a good taste in his mouth. He finished his drink and left.
As he stood on the sidewalk waiting for a cab to come along Conway cursed himself again. Imagine getting sucked in on a deal like this Teddy. Just how big a sap could a guy be?
About that time a cab came down the street. As usual it passed him like a dirty shirt. But there was another Checker behind it and this one stopped.
Conway settled into the back seat. "Where to, Mac?" the driver asked.
Now that was a good question. He still didn't feel much like going home.
Deep in thought Conway glanced through the windshield and saw that the first cab had stopped just ahead of them. A reflection of the street light flashed on the face of the woman getting in. Damned if it wasn't Teddy. He wondered what man she was setting out to meet. That yarn about her going home to Mama was just a lot of crap. Well, Conway thought, there was one way to find out. He had nothing better to do. "Follow that cab up there," he ordered.
"Just like in the movies," the driver grunted, tramping down on the accelerator.
They drove like that, in tandem, for the better part of twenty minutes until Conway began to get dizzy from wandering around the maze of streets that formed Washington Park.
"You sure there ain't a guy in there working her little body over?" the driver finally asked. "We ain't doing nothing but playing merry-go-round."
Conway had to agree with him. Still, he would swear that Teddy was alone. He was about to tell the driver to take him to Clancy's when the other machine seemed to make up its mind and shot onto a main street. This time they moved quickly to the outer drive and slid into die heavy traffic Two miles in toward town the other cab veered off to the right, heading down past Soldier's Field. It stopped in front of the darkened Adler Planetarium, and the girl got out.
"She must be going to meet her stud," the driver snorted. "There sure as hell ain't anything going on here this time of night."
Conway had to agree with him. He knew this section of the city rather vaguely. It was where the World's Fair of 1934 had been held. The road they were now driving on had been filled in for the event.
He debated saying to hell with it and going back to the bar. But he had gone this far, and the girl seemed too preoccupied to notice him. "Drive down a way and let me out," Conway said.
The driver grinned. "I guess I spoke out of turn. If you two got something going, more power to you."
Conway didn't bother to discuss it. He paid the man off and was left standing alone in the darkness.
Not quite alone. In the quiet Conway could hear the sound of Teddy's heels on the sidewalk. He walked in that direction.
He'd just about given up finding her when he saw her figure silhouetted against the skyline of the city. She'd gone across the grass and was standing on the breakwater looking over the yacht basin. The surface of the water at her feet was almost like glass.
Conway was frankly puzzled. Didn't this dame ever learn? After last night he would have imagined a deserted section like this would be the last place she'd come.
Even more puzzling was his reason for being here. Did he figure on raping her again? Surely he couldn't approach her. She'd be certain to recognize him.
Conway moved in closer, uncertain of his motives. He was within twenty feet of her now, hidden behind a big tree, feeling like a damned kid spying on his girl.
They stood like that for what seemed like an eternity.
Conway ached for a cigarette, but he could do nothing about it. If he moved now she was sure to hear him.
Then, with Conway watching intently, the girl did a very curious thing. She sat down on die rock and took off her shoes, lining them up neatly beside her. She added her coat and purse to the growing pile.
And then she jumped into the water.
It all happened so fast that Conway didn't believe his eyes. He stood riveted to the spot for a full ten seconds before he was able to move. A flash of insight brought him into action. That damned girl was trying to kill herself.
He raced to the point where he'd last seen the girl. The water was far below and looked black and ugly. One fact lighted up inside his head. She was killing herself over what he'd done to her.
Conway stripped off his coat and shoes and dove into the lake. The water was cold and took his wind as he surfaced, spluttering. He felt panic as he looked around, unable to see any sign of the girl. He was too late.
Or was he?
At that point she surfaced a few feet to his left. She didn't seem to be struggling. Conway went after her just as she started down again. He reached out in desperation and was able to grab hold of her long hair.
Now she came to life, beating at him with her fists. "Leave me alone," she cried. "Let me die. Go away."
It was a struggle to keep both of them afloat. Conway gagged on water as she pushed him beneath the surface. When he came up he knew he'd have to do something or they'd both be goners. He took the direct approach and smashed his fist into her jaw. She went limp.
But the fight wasn't over yet. Getting into the lake had been easy. Leaving it was another matter. Conway swam along the shore, looking for a place he could get a foothold. He could see nothing but those giant, square blocks of granite that kept the water from spilling onto the streets when there was a storm.
He was reaching exhaustion when he finally saw a ledge. Using his last strength he hoisted the girl onto a low spot and followed her up. Then he carried her onto the grass of the park and collapsed; his lungs felt as if they were bursting.
It was ten minutes before he had the strength to go and get their clothing and his cigarettes. He squatted down beside the silent girl and lit up, quietly damning her for what she'd made him go through. The last thing he wanted to be was a hero.
Even so, Conway felt a little sorry for her. You had to be right on the edge before you did a thing like jumping off the deep end. He wondered if he were responsible. He didn't like the thought that he might be.
Staring down at her Conway realized that this was one of the prettiest women he'd ever known. Her water-soaked clothing stuck to her body like glue, highlighting every curve, of which she had plenty.
It was at that point that she groaned and opened her eyes, looking up at him. The first thing she did was rub her jaw. "That hurts," she complained.
"I'm sorry," Conway said. "I had to slug you or we'd both have gone down."
"Did you pull me out?" she asked.
"Yeah."
Teddy averted her eyes and began to cry. "You shouldn't have. I wanted to die."
"If you want I'll toss you back in," Conway grinned.
His ridiculous offer forced her to look at him again. A tiny smile even formed at the edges of her mouth. "That's a nasty thing to say."
"Well make up your mind," Conway scolded good-naturedly. "Do you or do you not want to die?"
Teddy struggled to a sitting position. "Not any more, I guess. I'll have to think about it a while longer." She looked up at him again, and her expression changed. She seemed to be studying his features illuminated by the light of the city. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" she asked.
Conway held his breath. This looked like the ball game. Maybe she had recognized him last night. "No," he muttered nervously. "I don't think you do."
There was fear in her eyes now and she leaned away from him. "I do know you," she cried. "I'm certain of it."
Conway gritted his teeth and waited for the explosion. He might have known that he couldn't get away with it.