Mr. Love and Justice Read Free

Detective-Sergeant had got up. ‘Shut up,’ he said quite gently. ‘Look, boy, it’s simple. Change her ideas and marry her, or else … Well! That quite clear?’
    ‘Of course, sir.’
    ‘Okay. No hurry: but just get it fixed.’ He smiled. ‘An item for your file,’ he added.
    Detective-Constable Justice put on his tie and jacket. ‘Could I ask you, sir,’ he said, ‘what kind of work you have in mind for me?’
    ‘I don’t mind telling you,’ the officer answered, taking his trilby hat off a filing cabinet. ‘You interested in ponces at all?’
    ‘I’m interested, sir, in whatever you tell me to be.’
    ‘Good. We might try you out with them. What d’you say?’
    Edward made no reply, and his senior put his hand on Detective-Constable Justice’s shoulder. ‘Remember one thing,’ he said. ‘It’s the only thing that matters –really.’ He looked at Edward like a brother (as Cain, for example, did on Abel). ‘Don’t ever get in wrong with the Force: because if you do – well, a broken copper’s the only person in the world we hate more than a criminal.’

MR LOVE
    Frankie got up to make two cups of tea, and now for the first time he had a chance of looking round about her room. He liked it. It wasn’t rich at all, no; yet as on a ship, nothing essential was missing. The sheets had been clean, and in the tins marked tea, and rice, and sugar, he saw there were actually these things, and plenty. It was, of course, a bit over-feminine, but then the girl was, after all, a woman. ‘Sugar?’ he said, looking round at her lying smoking on the bed.
    ‘Eight lumps,’ she answered. ‘I’m not naturally sweet.’
    He came and sat beside her and fondled her abstractedly. ‘Thanks, girl,’ he said.
    She smiled and said to him, ‘There’s not many, I can tell you, get a cup of tea as well.’
    ‘I dare say not,’ said Frankie.
    ‘ Or leave as rich as they came in,’ she added.
    Frankie frowned. ‘I’ve never paid for it,’ he said, ‘and never would, and never will.’
    ‘Oh, I was kidding.’ She sipped a bit, and said, ‘Not even those geisha girls, you wouldn’t?’
    ‘If a girl thinks she wants money from me , I’d rather go without.’
    ‘Well, dear, being as you are, I don’t expect you’ve often had to.’
    Frankie smiled, then looked at her seriously. ‘You like the life?’ he said.
    ‘I don’t like or dislike, darling: I’m just used to it.’
    ‘Been at it long?’
    ‘Oh, ever since I can remember …’
    ‘Yeah – I see. You don’t mind if I ask: it doesn’t upset you?’
    She laughed. ‘Upset me? Darling, you can believe me or not, but I just – don’t – notice.’
    ‘No? By the way: don’t call me “darling”, please. I told you my name’s Frankie.’
    ‘Yes. Frankie Love. You said so. And you’ve proved it.’
    ‘But listen. Stop me if I’m curious. When you go out: not knowing who it’s going to be. That doesn’t disturb you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Not at all?’
    ‘No. Only if they’re vicious or anything, or try to rob me …’
    ‘They try that? That’s not right!’
    ‘Sometimes they do … But you get to know the types – you’d be surprised.’
    ‘I suppose so.’ He took her hands, examined them, kissed them and said, ‘But listen. All those men. Maybe two or three a day. Don’t you find …’
    ‘Two or three? Are you kidding? What you take me for – a mystery?’
    ‘You’re mysterious, all right.’
    ‘Not that way, I’m not.’
    ‘Yeah. But what I mean is – doesn’t it disgust you any? One after another, dozens of them just like that?’
    She sat up and fixed the pillows. ‘Well, Frankie,’ she said. ‘First ask yourself this question, please. If you go with me after all those dozens – doesn’t it disgust you ?’
    ‘No. No – but I think that’s different.’
    ‘Men do.’
    ‘I suppose so.’
    ‘Look, dear. If you’re going into this business at all, it’s best to have as many as you can, isn’t it?