just flour, because later on my hands smell like a cake.”
“I like cake.”
“You gonna see the show?”
Alice Blake was a girl of average height and average build, with a brown bob and big baby-doll eyes. She giggled a lot when she talked, and after she invited Sam into her room her hands shook a bit as she struck a match and lit a little cigarette. A half-packed suitcase sat on a chair below a window looking out onto O’Farrell.
“You want to tell me what happened last Monday?”
“I seen the girl sick.” Alice had finished up the smoke and now worked a thick coat of dark paint to her eyelid with her twitching hands, using a mirror above the bureau. She switched to another brush and arched her eyebrows.
“Did Mr. Arbuckle hurt her?”
“I told you. When that Delmont woman started screaming and carrying on and beating on the door with her shoe and all, that’s what made me come running.”
“Where were you?”
“In the bathroom.”
“Which bathroom?”
“I don’t know. The big room where they had the Victrola.”
“1220?”
“I guess.”
“How long were you in the bathroom?”
“Twenty minutes?”
“You sick or something?”
“I was with a fella. That actor buddy of Roscoe’s with the funny voice.”
“Lowell Sherman?”
“That’s the one. So anyway, I finished up having a real nice conversation with Lowell.”
“In the bathroom?”
“You can talk in the bathroom same as anywhere else,” Alice Blake said. “And so Mrs. Delmont come running into the room, and the way that broad was yelling you’d think the whole St. Francis was on fire or there was an earthquake or some crazy thing. Only she was moaning about Virginia being with Roscoe, and so I sez to Zey—that’s my girlfriend—I say to Zey, What gives if old Fatty gets him some tail? I mean, we all need it. I said, Good on him.”
“And then what?”
“And then the hotel dick comes and ruins the party, and then Virginia is moaning and thrashing and all that on the bed and that ruined the party, too. God rest her soul.” Alice crossed her heart the way Sam’s mother had at mass. “And then Maude Delmont and Zey and me tried to help the poor girl out by putting her in a cold bath. Fatty and that good-looking foreign fella Fishback helped, too. We thought she was just drunk is all.”
“Did the girl say anything?”
Alice was finished with the paint job and turned her head from side to side inspecting what she’d done with her eyes and apple cheeks. Satisfied with it, she gave her bob a nice little comb through and then felt the weight of her breasts in the lace camisole and smiled.
“You think I have nice tits?”
“Spectacular.”
“What did you say your name was?”
“Sam.”
She smiled. Then she frowned.
“Kind of a boring name—Sam. That sounds like a schoolboy.”
“How ’bout Craig Kennedy?”
“Who’s that?”
“A master detective with four speedy cars.”
“I love speedy cars.”
“Zoom.”
“So I was telling you about what I didn’t see. I’m telling you like I told the policeman who called me, I didn’t see nothing and I didn’t hear nothing. They’ve been hunting me down like a rabbit and my nerves are just about shot. You wouldn’t have a little drink with you?”
Sam shook his head and asked, “Who was the policeman?”
“Said his name was Reagan. Didn’t say his first name.”
Sam smiled. “Did Miss Rappe say anything else?”
“I only know what Maude Delmont said. She said that ole Fatty had crushed that poor girl with all that weight.”
“You believe it?”
“She was groaning and moaning and all that. Zey heard her say something.”
“What’d she hear?”
“She said Virginia said that she was dying. He said he’d hurt her.”
Sam nodded and jotted down a few notes. “ ‘He’ being Arbuckle?”
“He being he . I don’t know who the screwy girl was talking about. We was just there having a good time, and then we tried our best to help her.
“I like cake.”
“You gonna see the show?”
Alice Blake was a girl of average height and average build, with a brown bob and big baby-doll eyes. She giggled a lot when she talked, and after she invited Sam into her room her hands shook a bit as she struck a match and lit a little cigarette. A half-packed suitcase sat on a chair below a window looking out onto O’Farrell.
“You want to tell me what happened last Monday?”
“I seen the girl sick.” Alice had finished up the smoke and now worked a thick coat of dark paint to her eyelid with her twitching hands, using a mirror above the bureau. She switched to another brush and arched her eyebrows.
“Did Mr. Arbuckle hurt her?”
“I told you. When that Delmont woman started screaming and carrying on and beating on the door with her shoe and all, that’s what made me come running.”
“Where were you?”
“In the bathroom.”
“Which bathroom?”
“I don’t know. The big room where they had the Victrola.”
“1220?”
“I guess.”
“How long were you in the bathroom?”
“Twenty minutes?”
“You sick or something?”
“I was with a fella. That actor buddy of Roscoe’s with the funny voice.”
“Lowell Sherman?”
“That’s the one. So anyway, I finished up having a real nice conversation with Lowell.”
“In the bathroom?”
“You can talk in the bathroom same as anywhere else,” Alice Blake said. “And so Mrs. Delmont come running into the room, and the way that broad was yelling you’d think the whole St. Francis was on fire or there was an earthquake or some crazy thing. Only she was moaning about Virginia being with Roscoe, and so I sez to Zey—that’s my girlfriend—I say to Zey, What gives if old Fatty gets him some tail? I mean, we all need it. I said, Good on him.”
“And then what?”
“And then the hotel dick comes and ruins the party, and then Virginia is moaning and thrashing and all that on the bed and that ruined the party, too. God rest her soul.” Alice crossed her heart the way Sam’s mother had at mass. “And then Maude Delmont and Zey and me tried to help the poor girl out by putting her in a cold bath. Fatty and that good-looking foreign fella Fishback helped, too. We thought she was just drunk is all.”
“Did the girl say anything?”
Alice was finished with the paint job and turned her head from side to side inspecting what she’d done with her eyes and apple cheeks. Satisfied with it, she gave her bob a nice little comb through and then felt the weight of her breasts in the lace camisole and smiled.
“You think I have nice tits?”
“Spectacular.”
“What did you say your name was?”
“Sam.”
She smiled. Then she frowned.
“Kind of a boring name—Sam. That sounds like a schoolboy.”
“How ’bout Craig Kennedy?”
“Who’s that?”
“A master detective with four speedy cars.”
“I love speedy cars.”
“Zoom.”
“So I was telling you about what I didn’t see. I’m telling you like I told the policeman who called me, I didn’t see nothing and I didn’t hear nothing. They’ve been hunting me down like a rabbit and my nerves are just about shot. You wouldn’t have a little drink with you?”
Sam shook his head and asked, “Who was the policeman?”
“Said his name was Reagan. Didn’t say his first name.”
Sam smiled. “Did Miss Rappe say anything else?”
“I only know what Maude Delmont said. She said that ole Fatty had crushed that poor girl with all that weight.”
“You believe it?”
“She was groaning and moaning and all that. Zey heard her say something.”
“What’d she hear?”
“She said Virginia said that she was dying. He said he’d hurt her.”
Sam nodded and jotted down a few notes. “ ‘He’ being Arbuckle?”
“He being he . I don’t know who the screwy girl was talking about. We was just there having a good time, and then we tried our best to help her.
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