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Authors: Lawrence Block
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roulette wheel.”
“And met Doug.”
“Uh-huh.” She smiled again. “He tried awfully hard to make me, but I just wasn’t having any. I liked him, though. Right from the start I liked him.”
“Everybody does.”
“I suppose they must. After a while he must have decided that he wasn’t going to wind up in bed with me, so he started talking to me and listening when I talked. He kept getting me to talk about Wally, and I did because I wanted to tell someone how mad I was at the son of a bitch. I didn’t know what he was getting at. Then he came up with the idea and you know the rest of it.”
I nodded. I liked the picture of Doug trying to score with her and striking out. It didn’t exactly fit with the way he’d told it to me, but that figured. Nobody likes to paint pictures of himself in a foolish position.
“John? Did he say he slept with me?”
“No.”
“The way you were smiling—”
“It’s not that. He said that he didn’t try, that he wasn’t interested. And when I saw you in the office this morning I didn’t get it.”
“What do you mean?”
I met her eyes. “I couldn’t imagine him not being interested. Not when I saw you.”
“Oh,” she said, and colored slightly. Then she said, “Listen, don’t tell him what I said, will you? About him trying and not getting any place?”
“Don’t worry.”
“Because he might not like being reminded of it. But anyway, we got along fine once he quit being on the make. And he came up with this idea, and that changed my mind about coming back to Olean. I was back as soon as my vacation was up and went back to work for Wally.”
I didn’t ask the obvious question.
“Back to work in every respect,” she said, answering the question I hadn’t asked. “But it was different now. I don’t feel like a cheap whore anymore.” The brown eyes flashed. “I feel like an expensive whore, John. A hundred-thousand-dollar call girl.”
A busboy cleared our table. We passed up dessert and had coffee and cognac. The cognac was very old and very smooth. I broke out a fresh pack of cigarettes. She took one. I gave her a light and she leaned forward to take it. The jade heart fell away from her white skin. The black dress fell forward, too, and there was a momentary flash of the body beneath it, the thrust of breasts.
A hundred-thousand-dollar call girl . Our eyes locked and we smiled foolishly at each other.
The waiter brought the check. She added a tip and signed her name and, below that, Gunderman’s. We got up and left.
Outside, it was cooler. She drove and I sat beside her. We didn’t seem to be headed anywhere in particular. She said, “This town. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, after six years here.”
“Just six years? I thought you were born here.”
“God, no.” She pitched her cigarette out the window. “Not far from here, actually. I was brought up about twenty miles east of here, a little town called Bolivar. You probably never heard of it.”
“I never even heard of Olean up to now.”
“Then you never heard of Bolivar. It makes Olean look like New York. I got away from there to go to college. I went to Syracuse, to Syracuse University. I was on scholarship. I got married two weeks after graduation and wound up in New York.”
“Doug told me you were married.”
“I told him about it. When I start feeling sorry for myself I get carried away. I probably filled his ear with a lot of that. I married this boy from Long Island that I’d met at school and we went to New York to play house. I was the mommy and he was the man who took the suds out of the automatic washer. I don’t know why I should be boring you with all this, John.”
“I’m not bored.”
“You’re easy to talk to, aren’t you?”
“Uh-huh. I used to be a psychiatrist before I turned crooked.”
“I could almost believe that. What was I talking about?”
“The suds and the automatic washer.”
“That’s right. Except that we played
“And met Doug.”
“Uh-huh.” She smiled again. “He tried awfully hard to make me, but I just wasn’t having any. I liked him, though. Right from the start I liked him.”
“Everybody does.”
“I suppose they must. After a while he must have decided that he wasn’t going to wind up in bed with me, so he started talking to me and listening when I talked. He kept getting me to talk about Wally, and I did because I wanted to tell someone how mad I was at the son of a bitch. I didn’t know what he was getting at. Then he came up with the idea and you know the rest of it.”
I nodded. I liked the picture of Doug trying to score with her and striking out. It didn’t exactly fit with the way he’d told it to me, but that figured. Nobody likes to paint pictures of himself in a foolish position.
“John? Did he say he slept with me?”
“No.”
“The way you were smiling—”
“It’s not that. He said that he didn’t try, that he wasn’t interested. And when I saw you in the office this morning I didn’t get it.”
“What do you mean?”
I met her eyes. “I couldn’t imagine him not being interested. Not when I saw you.”
“Oh,” she said, and colored slightly. Then she said, “Listen, don’t tell him what I said, will you? About him trying and not getting any place?”
“Don’t worry.”
“Because he might not like being reminded of it. But anyway, we got along fine once he quit being on the make. And he came up with this idea, and that changed my mind about coming back to Olean. I was back as soon as my vacation was up and went back to work for Wally.”
I didn’t ask the obvious question.
“Back to work in every respect,” she said, answering the question I hadn’t asked. “But it was different now. I don’t feel like a cheap whore anymore.” The brown eyes flashed. “I feel like an expensive whore, John. A hundred-thousand-dollar call girl.”
A busboy cleared our table. We passed up dessert and had coffee and cognac. The cognac was very old and very smooth. I broke out a fresh pack of cigarettes. She took one. I gave her a light and she leaned forward to take it. The jade heart fell away from her white skin. The black dress fell forward, too, and there was a momentary flash of the body beneath it, the thrust of breasts.
A hundred-thousand-dollar call girl . Our eyes locked and we smiled foolishly at each other.
The waiter brought the check. She added a tip and signed her name and, below that, Gunderman’s. We got up and left.
Outside, it was cooler. She drove and I sat beside her. We didn’t seem to be headed anywhere in particular. She said, “This town. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, after six years here.”
“Just six years? I thought you were born here.”
“God, no.” She pitched her cigarette out the window. “Not far from here, actually. I was brought up about twenty miles east of here, a little town called Bolivar. You probably never heard of it.”
“I never even heard of Olean up to now.”
“Then you never heard of Bolivar. It makes Olean look like New York. I got away from there to go to college. I went to Syracuse, to Syracuse University. I was on scholarship. I got married two weeks after graduation and wound up in New York.”
“Doug told me you were married.”
“I told him about it. When I start feeling sorry for myself I get carried away. I probably filled his ear with a lot of that. I married this boy from Long Island that I’d met at school and we went to New York to play house. I was the mommy and he was the man who took the suds out of the automatic washer. I don’t know why I should be boring you with all this, John.”
“I’m not bored.”
“You’re easy to talk to, aren’t you?”
“Uh-huh. I used to be a psychiatrist before I turned crooked.”
“I could almost believe that. What was I talking about?”
“The suds and the automatic washer.”
“That’s right. Except that we played
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