Someone Is Bleeding Read Free Page A

millionaire. I felt like creeping away.
    Then I saw her framed in the doorway and I suddenly knew I couldn’t leave and I had to know who this man was. I walked past the Cadillac, a sleek, black job. I glanced at her room which faced the street. But the shades were drawn. I turned into the alley and walked up to the side window of her room. I stood there in the darkness, holding my breath. The window was open. I could hear her voice.
    “You shouldn’t come here like this,” she was saying, “at this time of night. What will the landlady say?”
    “Never mind that,” said the man. “I was talking about something else.”
    “I said no and I mean it.”
    Silence a moment. The man’s voice again.
    “And who’s the new one?”
    She didn’t answer. I felt my brow knitting. Because the man’s voice was familiar.
    “Some poor fool who . . .” he started.
    “Oh leave me alone, will you?” she burst out.
    “Peggy.”
    The voice was low and it warned. “Don’t keep trying my patience. Even I have a limit. Even I, Peggy.”
    I heard her skirt rustle, then a long silence. I tried to hear. I tried to look under the shade. Nothing to see or hear. I imagined. I’m good at that.
    “Jim,” she said, “Jim . . . no.”
    Another connection. Not quite secure. The voice. The name.
    Then I heard the back screen door shutting and I walked down the alley. As I turned onto the sidewalk I saw a dark figure coming up the alley. Albert. I recognized the form. I didn’t know whether he was just out for the air or whether he was going to listen at the window too.
    It didn’t matter to me.
    I’d had enough. I stalked past the black Cadillac and walked quickly toward Wilshire. In my mind I kept seeing her in the man’s arms, being kissed, minutes after I had kissed her. Kissing him the way she kissed me. Peggy, the new, the bright, Peggy, the deceiving one.
    I think I felt sick. I just wanted to get far away. When it comes down to it, I’m not very confident about my overweening charms. Right then the only thing I wanted was escape.
    Good-bye Peggy Ann.
    * * *
    There was someone scratching on my screen.
    I raised up on one elbow and looked at the window. She was looking in. She knocked at the door then. I hesitated. Then I relaxed.
    “Come in,” I said.
    She was carrying her bathing suit and a towel in one hand. A grease-spotted paper bag in the other.
    I looked at her clinically.
    “I brought doughnuts for breakfast,” she said.
    Still no answer from me. She caught the look. Peggy was always quick at that. She knew the moment your feelings toward her chilled. Her face fell.
    “What’s the matter?” she asked.
    I didn’t answer. Her face was disconcerted. The face I was beginning to love. I tried to fight that but it was just about impossible. She turned away sadly. “I’ll go,” she said.
    I didn’t feel anything until her hand touched the doorknob. Then it seemed as if someone were wrenching at my insides.
    “Peggy.”
    She turned to look at me. Her face blank. I patted the bed. “Come here,” I said.
    She stood there, looking hurt. She tried to flint her features, failed, tried again. I patted the bed a second time.
    ”Sit down, Peggy,” I said.
    She sat down gingerly.
    “I haven’t done anything,” she said.
    “I came back last night,” I said.
    At first she didn’t understand. Then her face tightened. “You saw Jim,” she said.
    “Is he your husband?”
    “He’s my lawyer,” she said.
    Last connection. The voice, the name, the profession.
    “What’s his last name?” I asked.
    “Vaughan,” she said.
    “My God.”
    She looked at me in surprise. “What is it?”
    “I know him,” I said.
    “You do?”
    “We went to college together.”
    “Oh.” Her voice was faint.
    I shook my head. “My God,” I repeated.
    “Jim Vaughan. Of all the crazy coincidences.”
    I turned to her.
    “Is Jim in love with you?” I asked.
    “I . . .” She looked helpless.
    “Is he?”
    “I don’t