Chapter 16
Why did lovely faces haunt him, he wondered? He had the uncanny knack of attaching himself to stunning women and becoming the locksmith to their emotions-leading them compassionately toward a door that led to nowhere. In his heart the bell tolled loudest for Lora because she signified black lust to be devoured and dispersed. She was a cool statue in a soon-to-be-forgotten garden. Yet she formed a welt in his heart. If only he weren't white. If only the dust had blown him black like she.
He snatched a couple of hours sleep which he needed badly. The phone shattered suddenly like a noisy holocaust and drearily he heard Marilyn's voice.
"Lou, can you come over here before you go to the office?" she asked.
He glanced at the clock. "I guess so. What's up?"
"I want to talk to you."
"I'll be over. Give me time to change."
He stared in the bathroom mirror and slowly his eyes cleared-returned to normal depth. He got there a little later than he expected and she was dressed in a hot pink raincoat and a lazy sulky look.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he said sincerely. She glanced nervously at the clock. "Well, I still have a few minutes." She removed her raincoat and folded it on the chair back and sat down.
Some dim echoes of dusty passions were suddenly upon him as he glanced at her-a gap in beautiful flesh. In a second she shed her shining mannerisms. He noticed her eyes dimmed into narrow slits as she crossed her legs in a swift movement.
"Lou-one of the Garden Street girls told me a lot of things that will help my story. She can substitute it with a diary and other assorted records and the name of a prominent man of the press who has been frequenting the girls and indulging with them. I'm supposed to meet her in a day or so-she'll call me-but I'd like you to come with me and meet the girl." She leaned back and studied him closely.
Now he knew what she knew and Linda's warning about Marilyn came home to roost. He had at first shut his mind to the warning. It sounded far-fetched and ridiculously insensible Yet in such a sweltering atmosphere implications are easily inflated.
He put her to the test. "Did the girl give you her name?" he asked.
"Yes, but I don't think you would know her-her name is Tina ... I believe."
The tall clock ticked behind her. A spring gale rattled at the window and a wave of havoc enveloped him. Now there could no longer be any doubt about Linda's warning. It was true to the hilt. She sat looking at him with a frosty stare, and Lou suddenly knew she was throwing him spitballs
"I don't remember the name at all, Marilyn,' he said. "But if you want-"
The phone broke the blanket quiet. Marilyn walked to the table. She listened for a moment and then she turned to Lou. "Some woman says it's important-about a story you're working on."
He scrambled to his feet and took the phone. "Hello," he said.
The voice was urgent and belonged to Linda.
"Please, Lou, listen and don't let on to Marilyn that it's me. I had a woman on the hotel switchboard get you so that Marilyn wouldn't suspect a thing. Now do listen carefully and try to answer so she will think it's some sort of legitimate call. Get it?"
"Oh, indeed, I do remember," said Lou, a little startled, "wasn't that the meter scandal a while ago?"
"Good, Lou, good-now listen. Leave Marilyn at once-at once, do you hear?"
"I find that difficult to conceive, madam," Lou continued his pretension.
"Keep it up, Lou," Linda shouted excitedly. "Did Marilyn ask you to accompany her to meet a girl from Garden Street to get some confidential information for her story?"
"Why, I should say yes, no doubt about it."
He heard a small chuckle. "Just as I thought. Well, don't go. The girl is Tina and Marilyn wants to implicate you right in front of Tina when she gets the information. It's all the proof she'll need to ruin you."
Lou broke into a sweat and his hand slipped on the phone for an instant. He turned his head and stared at Marilyn seated quietly staring out the window. He could feel his belly drag. He felt like a star in the trackless ocean of time. All he could get himself to say into the phone was, "I see-I see."
"Remember, Lou, beware of the ides of Marilyn," she said.
"I won't forget it because I have a retentive memory, madam," he replied, forcing a wane smile.
"Now don't do or say anything rash or you'll be sorry. And above all don't let on to what you know. Make any excuse-but get out of there right now. And get over to the hotel. I'll wait for you."
"I'll do just that, madam, I'd hardly want to miss out on something like that. Sure-sure, you can expect me." He hung up.
Marilyn stood up and reached for her raincoat. "I heard the conversation-you have to leave?" she asked.
He wanted to spit in her eye and bolt from the room. Instead he forced a smile. "Something hot-sounds like a great tip on the parking meter scandal," he said, staring at her fixedly.
The floor started to swell as he left her and dashed toward his car. Now his mind was suddenly sharp ... like the bow of an ocean liner ploughing through rough seas. He forced a loud laugh at himself in the car as he turned the ignition on and it sounded like the rumble of a landslide.
Marilyn was planning what was to be apparently her finest hour when she brought Tina and Lou face to face. She had the fuse set, the explosion timed, the situation primed. Only he was moving out of range. With him absent she would have little to hook on to. She had once been the only girl for him, the one sweet girl who did his bidding pleasingly. He remembered the first time at her apartment. It was late and a wicked storm had lashed the city suddenly. He said he would like to stay over. She said no with indignation.
"Why not? Your bed is big enough," he snapped.
He stayed over. She insisted on keeping the light on. He was furious-the light annoyed him. But he did it anyway because it all added up to a certain mood-like wenching in technicolor. More than anything-this vision had a special appeal and spirit-a mysterious tang to the first time she bedded with him.
When it was over she hushed, blushed and dashed for the bathroom and he decided it was the firmest ass he had ever rolled on. He drove the car effortlessly and his face creased as if the pain was not yet over. From then on she came to him readily, always framed like a sexy time bomb ready to explode on contact. He remembered it all with an ache of delight. He bit his lips tightly. Screw-screw-her. It was finished. Stars of blood shone in his eyes. He stopped for a light. A woman in a polka dot dress that looked like a measel epidemic pushed a carriage across the street. A young girl ran across from the other side just making the light. He smiled. Sixteen is sweet when it happens to girls, he said to himself.
He suddenly remembered that he ought to call Marilyn and tell her he would be tied up and that she ought not to count on him accompanying her on her mission to Tina. He stopped at a gas station and made the call. She sounded sadly disappointed. But he smiled to himself as he got into the car.
He hoped fervently the mainfold agonies were over. He would listen to Linda. She had the right answer. Maybe he would go to New York with her and start anew. They would form a compact. They would live together. Maybe she was just the one to make a man of him at this late date. All he needed was a fresh start.
He would be like other men-spit on the sidewalk and tear holes in the pavement. He was minting the gathered experience of the past into shreds of wisdom. As he reached Linda's hotel h felt that he was still in the grip of grim danger.