I frowned at the key, showed it to him. “Seven B. The girl in the Howard office gave it to me. First, I tried to open Five B with it. I thought that was what she said. Then I looked at the tag and tried this one.”
“So it’s just the key that’s wrong. I saw the car. The door is open. So somebody could be cleaning it to the walls. They get some action like that around here.”
A sun-drowsy girl-voice drifted over the wall from the adjoining court. “Who you talkin’ to, Griff? Whozat, baby?”
“Just a guy looking, buds. They screwed up and give him the key to Tami’s place, I told him she’s away only. Mack showed yet?”
“No, and he din even call. How about that?”
“Well,” I said, “thanks for straightening me out. Would you… recommend it as a place to live?”
When he shrugged those shoulders he was hoisting considerable poundage of meat. “Depends on what the play is. You got it private. Nobody bothers anybody. No kids mousing around. You got the big beach a quarter mile south, and even slow like now there’s action if you want to check it out. For a guy single, you can’t whip it.”
“You work around here?”
“See you here and there, buds,” he said and trudged toward the gate to the next patio where the girl-voice had come from. He wiped his face on the towel and went in and pulled the gate shut without a backward glance. I drove back to the office.
“They’re really nice, aren’t they?” said Bitsy. “Furnished just a little more completely than I expected,” I said and held the key up so she could read the tag.
“But… but… oli, my God, did you walk in on somebody? Who’s in that one?: She ran a thumbnail down a cardex list. “Miss Western. But I told you Five B!”
“That’s where I went. The key wouldn’t open the door. I looked at the tag and saw it was for Seven B, so I thought you made a mistake about which place was empty. Don’t worry. She wasn’t there. A fellow named Griff, who seems to live in Seven C, saw my car and the open door and he straightened me out.”
“She does go away quite often on trips.” She spoke over her shoulder as she headed to the wall panel. She took the key from the Seven B hook and said, “This is the one I meant to give you. Darn it! It must be that maybe when Fred was sweeping up he knocked them off with the broom handle or something and put them back wrong.” She stood there checking the other tags. “I guess the rest are okay. Do you want to look at Five B now?”
“I guess not. It’s the same layout as Miss Western’s?”
“The color scheme will be different, of course. “Has she lived there long?”
She looked at the card again. “Almost two years.”
“Well, she certainly keeps it clean and tidy.”
“You were asking about maid service. I see here that she has a maid who comes in. We have to keep a record, so we’ll know who’s been given permission to go into the units. Are you interested, Mr. McGee?”
“Very much. There’s just one other place I wanted to check, mostly because I promised I would, but I think I’ll settle for Five B.”
“Then you ought to grab it now. This time of year they don’t stay empty long.”
“How long would fifty hold it, not returnable?”
“Let’s say… since this is Thursday, until Saturday noon? Then if you take it, it applies to the rent. You would owe… an additional two eighty-four seventy five, with the tax, and forty dollars deposit for the utilities. We handle getting them hooked up in your name. But you take care of the phone yourself.”
“Can you give me the maid’s name?”
“Of course. Here. I’ll write the name and address on the back of your receipt.”
“Fine.”
“She’s a colored girl. She works for some of our other people too.” I started the car and put the air-conditioning on high, both vents aimed at my face, before I drove away, I had the name of the maid. Mrs. Noreen Walker, 7930 Fifth Street, Arlentown. 881-6810. I tucked the slip in my pocket, and from a drugstore in the corner shopping plaza I dialed the number.