She choked down a gasp. Fear chilled and keened. He on the right was a hulk, bristle-chinned and smelly. He on the left was hardly more than a boy. He had no color in his face except for the pus yellow the lamps gave it, and from time to time he giggled.
“Hello, Mrs. Ross,” the big man said. His voice was gritty. “Nice evening, ain’t it?”
Fool, she raged at herself, fool, I should have been careful, I should have spent what a bodyguard would cost, but no, I couldn’t be bothered, I had to save every cent toward my next years of freedom— In a way that was ancient with her, she killed the fear. She couldn’t afford it.
“I don’t know you,” she said. “Let me be.”
“Aw, we know you. Mr. Santoni, he showed us on the street when you was passing by. He asked us we should have a little talk with you.”
“Go, before I call a policeman.”
The boy tittered. “Shut up, Lew,” said the big man. “You get too impatient.” To her: “Now don’t be like that, Mrs. Ross. All we want to do is talk with you a while. You just come along quiet.”
“I’ll talk to your boss, Mr. Santoni, I’ll speak to him again if he insists.” Buy time. “Later today, yes.”
“Oh, no. Not so soon. He says you been real unreasonable.”
He wants to add my business to his string, he wants to end every independent house in the city, we’re to do his will and pay him his tribute. Christ, before it’s too late, send us a man with a sawed-off shotgun!
It was already too late for her. “He wants Lew and me should have a little talk with you first. He can’t waste no more of his time arguing, you got me? Just come along quiet now, and you’ll be all right. Lew, put that goddamn shiv back.”
She tried to run. A long arm snapped her to a halt. The way they pinioned her was effective; further resistance could have led to a dislocated shoulder. Around the next corner waited a cabriolet and driver. The horse hadn’t far to go before it reached a certain building.
Several times the big man-must restrain the boy. Afterward he would sponge her, speak soothingly, give her a smoke, before they resumed. Drawing on past experience, she avoided damage that would be permanent, on her if not on a mortal. They actually let her out of the cab in front of a doctor’s house.
The hospital staff were amazed at how fast she healed, quite without marks. While they did not interrogate her, they understood more or less what had happened and expected it would be a very meek, obliging, frequently smiling person who left them. Well, a body so extraordinary might generate a personality equally jesilient.
Just the same, Carlotta Ross cut her losses, sold whatever she could and dropped from sight. She had never heard of the rival who later bushwhacked Santoni. She seldom bothered taking revenge. Time did that for her, eventually. She was content to start over elsewhere, forewarned.
“I GET along, though. I’m used to the life. Pretty good at it, in fact.” Clara laughed. “By now, I’d better be, huh?”
“Do you loathe all men?” Laurace asked.
“Don’t pity me! … Sorry, you mean well, I shouldn’t’ve flared up. No, I’ve met some that I guess were decent. Not usually hi my line of work, though, and not for me. I don’t have to take them on any more myself; just take then-money. I couldn’t have anybody for real anyway. Can I? Can you?”
“Not forever, obviously. Unless someday we find others of our kind.” Laurace saw the expression before her. “Others we like.”
“Mind if I have a refill of this drink? I’ll help myself.” Clara did, and took a cigarette from her purse. Meanwhile she asked, no longer aggressive, almost shy: “What about you, Laurace? How do you feel? You were a slave once, you’ve said. That must have been as bad as anything I ever knew. Maybe worse. Christ knows how many slaves I’ve seen in my life.”
“Sometimes it was very bad. Other times it was, oh, comfortable. But never free. At last I ran away. White people who were against slavery got me to Canada. There I found ‘ work as a housemaid.”