Glitz

“Liver and onions. Or the Dover sole. I don’t know anything about you,” Vincent said. “You started playing piano when you were about nine…”

“Eight.”

“You grew up in New York.”

“New Orleans. I played trumpet in the Tulane marching band… I prefer the cornet.”

“You fooled me. I thought you had kind of a Brooklyn accent. Just a little. You played the trumpet, huh?”

“You making conversation?”

“I’m interested.”

“You know something you’re not telling me. You’re trying to act cute and you don’t know how.”

“I feel good, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Well, I had a pretty good day. How was yours? You get an audition?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m in at Bally’s, if I want it. But I’d have to go with a guitar and drummer they want me to use. Which is okay, I guess. At least I’ll be working.”

“You like it here, Atlantic City?”

“Compared to what? The Holiday I

“I’d like to hear you play sometime,” Vincent said, “doing Linda Moon instead of Carmen Miranda. I got to admit, though, I enjoyed that.”

“You would,” Linda said. “I’m surprised you don’t wear a double-knit suit with white stitching. Cops being known for their daring fashion statements.”

“Let’s have another drink.”

“I’m ready.” She was looking him over, his new sportcoat, white cotton shirt. “You’re not a bad dresser, really.”

“I’ll take my tie off and open my shirt, you want me to.”

“No, you won’t, you’re too conservative.” She raised her eyes to his. “It’s okay. I like a change now and then.”

Driving back to Linda’s rooming house Vincent said, “I never saw a ski

“I’m not that ski

“Just right.”

“I get mellow when I drink. I mel-low.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“All the streets are named after states…”

“North and south.”

“Except they aren’t in order, they’re all mixed up. North Carolina, Pe

Vincent glanced at the rearview mirror, at headlights and reflections on wet pavement. “He’s with us again.”

Linda turned in the seat to look back. “The same car?”

“Yellow Monte Carlo… I don’t think I should take you home. He probably saw me pick you up…”

She was quiet a moment. “You’re saying, what, I should stay with you?”

“I think it’d be safer.”

“For who? If the guy’s after you why would it be safer for me to be with you?”

“You don’t want to go home,” Vincent said, “and I don’t think you should be alone. They’re bad guys.”

“I think you hired somebody to follow you. Is that it, Vincent, to get me in your room?”

He said, “Let me tell you about Ricky Catalina and what a sweetheart he is.” He gave her a profile, a brief one on the way to the Holmhurst, told about meeting Ricky and taking him to Gardner’s Basin, but didn’t go into detail or mention the blue canvas bag.

As they walked up to the hotel entrance Linda said, “He’s after you because you broke his car window?… Why did you?”

They went inside. Vincent turned to look through the glass door, in time to see the yellow Chevy creep past.

“Get his respect,” Vincent said. “Show him I have a violent nature.”

“Is it fun,” Linda asked, “being a cop?”

“Some times more than others. I’ve never given a traffic ticket or busted a hooker.”

On the way up the stairs Linda said, “You forgot your bag, you checked at Spade’s.”

“I’m leaving it there for safekeeping.”

She gave him her narrow look. “You’re not telling me everything, are you? I won’t ask what’s in the bag.”

“It’s up to you.”

“What’s in it?”

“Twelve thousand eight hundred and seventy dollars.”

“Oh, my God.”

They walked down the third-floor hallway, silent.

“You didn’t win it.”

“In a way I did.”

She stopped. “That’s why he’s after you.”

Vincent brought her along by the arm. “He thinks I probably have it, but he’s not sure.”

“He’s tailing you to find out.”

“All he has to do is ask.”

“What would you tell him?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Wait-whose is it?”

“I told you, collection money. Numbers, sports bets, card games-all illegal, the sources.”

Linda said, “Wow,” her voice hushed. “But you can’t keep it. Can you?”

“Why not? I turn it in the state keeps it, or it goes in the Police Recreational Fund. But they’re not go

“What’re you going to do with it?”

“I’ve got an idea… But you can have some if you want.”

“Jesus, Vincent-”

He got his key out, opened the door, touched Linda to go in ahead of him. He closed the door, double-locked it. When he turned Linda was close enough to touch, her coat off her shoulders, holding it, looking at the polished stainless-steel urn standing on the dresser.

She said, “Is it going to bother you?”

“What?”

“Iris being here.”

His hands moved over her shoulders to take her coat, get it out from between them.

“I’ll put Iris in a drawer.”

Teddy opened his eyes, saw the roof interior right there over him and thought he was in Monroe Ritchie’s bunk. Nope, he was parked down at the end of Pe

He opened his camera case, got the Colt automatic but didn’t stick it in his pants till he was out of the car. Nice evening. Morning now. Should he lock the doors? No-what if he had to leave in a hurry? Should he have the motor ru