“I told you to put anybody who came in unexpectedly in the second room, left.”
“She told me,” Canidy said.
“But I decided, what the hell, it wasn’t being used.” He thought for a moment that she was about to lose her temper. But then, as if she understood that was exactly what he wanted her to do, she gained control of herself and smiled at him just as warmly and patently artificially as he was smiling at her. “Well, we’ll just have to move him where he’s supposed to be,” Cynthia said, “won’t we?” She reached for Ellis’s package.
“Give me that, please. “Mat’s in it?”
“Personal-comfort items,” Canidy said, winking at Ellis.
“And crab killer.
She took the bag and stormed upstairs to the master bedroom, which was actually a suite. She had, as she always had when she went to its door, a mental picture of Ellis carrying Chesley Hay wood Whittaker, naked, wrapped in a sheet, dead, into that bedroom. And now Canidy had taken it upon himself to put some vermin infested character in Chesly’s room, to leave his filth in the shower where they had put Chesly.
There was no answer to her knock on the master bedroom’s door, so she walked in. As she did, the sound of the shower died. “Hello in there,” she said.
“I’m Miss Chenowith. I’d like a word with you. ), “I was hoping it would be the guy with the stuff for my crabs,” he said. “I have it,” she said.
“Open the door a crack.” It opened wide enough for a hand to pass.
Steam billowed out. She offered the bag to a scarred hand with battered fingernails. She had a quick, steam-fogged glance at a face with gaunt and sunken and very bright eyes. Uncomfortable, she immediately averted her eyes. Whoever he is, she thought, he looks like the sort of person who would pick up body vermin. The door opened and he came out in a robe and pajamas. She didn’t want to face him, so she pretended to fuss with the clock on the bedside table. “There seems to be some misunderstanding,” she said.
“This room is reserved for VIPS.”
“Not while I’m here it’s not,” he said. “I don’t know who you think you are!” she flared, and turned to face him, to glare at him. “I think I’m Jim Whittaker,” he said, in the moment recognition dawned on her, “and I own this house. How the hell are you, Cynthia?”
“That sonofabitch!” Cynthia fumed.
“Which sonofabitch is that?” Whittaker asked.
“And when did you start using dirty words?” 44 Canidy!” she snapped.
“He didn’t tell me it was you!”
“Maybe he thought a surprise would be nice,” Whittaker said. Barely audibly, shocked both to see him and at his appearance, she said, “I don’t know what to say.”
“How about “I’m glad you got out of the Philippines’?” he suggested.
“Or better yet, how about “Hi, Jim, let’s screw! “‘ “Oh, Jimmy, for God’s sake! Please!” Cynthia Chenowith said, and with tears in her eyes turned and fled. She heard him laughing happily behind her. She had amused him.
She remembered that when she used to amuse Chesly, he laughed almost exactly like that. She went into the kitchen. Canidy, obviously very pleased with himself, was sitting at the table with Chief Ellis. There was a bottle of Scotch between them. “That was a rotten thing to do, Canidy, you sonofabitch! What rotten thing was that, Cynthia?” he asked innocently, “You bastard!” she screamed, and then she fled. She would die, she thought, before she gave the sonofabitch the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
FOUR I Chicago, Illinois April 5, 1942 The arrival of the radiogram turned out to be a disappointment for the doorman of the tall apartment building on Lake shore Drive. It was his usual practice to relieve Western Union messengers of their yellow envelopes, hand them a dime, then turn the envelope over to the elevator Operator. The elevator operator would then deliver it. With rare exceptions, every tenant in the building was worth a quarter, and some of them, like the Bitters, were worth more. The Bitters kept a supply of dollar bills in a vase just inside the door of their penthouse apartment, to be dispensed whenever a service was done for them.