One Lonely Night Read Free Page B

smoke and looked at the ceiling. “Tell me about myself. Tell me what other people say.”
    “Why? You know it as well as I do. You read the papers. When you’re right you’re a hero. When you’re wrong you’re kill-happy. Why don’t you ask the people who count, the ones who really know you? Ask Pat. He thinks you’re a good cop. Ask all the worms in the holes, the ones who have reason to stay out of your way. They’ll tell you too ... if you can catch them.”
    I chucked the butt into the metal basket. “Sure, the worms’ll tell me. You know why I can’t catch them, Velda? Do you know why they’re scared to death to tangle with me? I’ll tell you why. They know damn well I’m as bad as they are ... worse, and I operate legally.”
    She reached out a hand and ran it over my hair. “Mike, you’re too damn big and tough to give a hang what people say. They’re only little people with little minds, so forget it.”
    “There’s an awful lot of it.”
    “Forget it.”
    “Make me,” I said.
    She came into my arms with a rush and I held her to me to get warm and let the moist softness of her lips make me forget. I had to push to get her away and I stood there holding her arms, breathing in a picture of what a man’s woman should look like. It was a long time before I could manage a grin, but she brought it out of me. There’s something a woman does without words that makes a man feel like a man and forget about the things he’s been told.
    “Did you bring in the paper?”
    “It’s on my desk.”
    She followed me when I went out to get it. A tabloid and a full-sized job were there. The tab was opened to a news account of the trial that was one column wide and two inches long. They had my picture, too. The other rag gave me a good spread and a good going over and they didn’t have my picture. I could start picking my friends out of the pack now.
    Instead of digesting the absorbing piece of news, I scanned the pages for something else. Velda scowled at my concentration and hung over my shoulder. What I was looking for wasn’t there. Not a single thing about two bodies in the river.
    “Something, Mike?”
    I shook my head. “Nope. Just looking for customers.”
    She didn’t believe me. “There are some excellent prospects in the letter file if you’re interested. They’re waiting for your answer.”
    “How are we fixed, Velda?” I didn’t look at her.
    I put the paper down and reached in my pocket for a smoke.
    “We’re solvent. Two accounts paid up yesterday. The money has been banked and there’s no bills. Why?”
    “Maybe I’ll take a vacation.”
    “From what?”
    “From paid jobs. I’m tired of being an employee.”
    “Think of me.”
    “I am,” I said. “You can take a vacation too if you want to.”
    She grabbed my elbow and turned me around until I was fencing with her eyes again. “Whatever you’re thinking isn’t of fun on some beach, Mike.”
    “It isn’t?” I tried to act surprised.
    “No.” She took the cigarette from my mouth, dragged on it and stuck it back. She never moved her eyes. “Mike, don’t play with me, please. Either tell me or don’t, but quit making up excuses. What’s on your mind?”
    My mouth felt tight. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
    “Yes I would.” There was nothing hidden in her answer. No laughter, no scorn. Just absolute belief in me.
    “I want to find out about myself, Velda.”
    She must have known what was coming. I said it quietly, almost softly, and she believed me. “All right, Mike,” she said. “If you need me for anything you know where to find me.”
    I gave her the cigarette and went back to the office. How deep can a woman go to search a man’s mind? How can they know without being told when some trival thing can suddenly become so important? What is it that gives them that look as if they know the problem and the answer too, yet hold it back because it’s something you have to discover for