cupped her chin in her hands. Joe thought she looked like one of those angel-faced choir boys who fill the roto sections at Christmas and Easter. He was sure now that her innocent tale-bearing had not been entirely responsible for Van Pelt’s and the older Raleigh’s interest in this business.
Milly, who had been silent since they entered the tavern, stared at Naomi malignantly and snarled, “I hate your guts, Naomi Raleigh. But take my advice and let Dicky paddle his own canoe. It won’t get you anywhere to butt in.”
Dick scowled. “Didn’t I tell you to keep those beautiful lips closed, darling? They look and sound a lot better in that position.”
Naomi became serious. “Look, Dick. I really was teasing you, but Uncle Park is worried. I came looking for you tonight to beg you to stop going on like this until he’s out of the hospital. If he hadn’t been worried he’d never have sent Mr. South to you.”
Dick said, “For heaven’s sake, don’t go melodramatic on me. I want to get this straight. Just what do you mean, go on like this?”
Joe decided this was his cue. He took a bite out of the ham sandwich and pointed a slice of dill pickle at Richard.
“I’ll tell you what you’re doing. You are acting like a one-year-old. Now I have no objection to your acting that way. You can be a dope if you want to. I’ve done about everything else and a job’s a job. If I don’t like changing your diapers at least I’m getting paid for it. You can run around with second-rate ex-torpedoes like Shasta and Wiener if you want to. Only get this straight”—he shook the pickle in Dick’s face for emphasis—“keep off the front page and out of the morgue. At least until after January 30. Then you can come over to my apartment and borrow my gun. I’ll let you blow your stupid brains out and I won’t even look up from the funny papers.”
It was the longest speech he’d made that night. He ended by snapping two inches off the pickle. If he had expected Raleigh to be angry he was disappointed. He had the mustache under control. For the first time Naomi looked at the detective without sympathy. She said angrily, “That’s about the poorest psychology I ever heard Uncle Park must have had a relapse when he hired you.”
It was all on the table now. There were no more references to Montana. Joe had known since before leaving the Timbuctoo that Raleigh was wise to him. This time there was affection in Naomi’s eyes as she touched Dick’s hand.
“Never mind, Dick. You know your business better than Joe South does. Only, darling, promise me you’ll be careful.”
Dick didn’t answer. He gazed moodily at Milly. Naomi pressed his fingers. “Promise,” she insisted.
Dick responded suddenly. He put his other hand over hers. He was still slightly drunk but his eyes were moody.
“All right,” he growled. “All you want is a promise to be careful I don’t know why. I hereby promise to be careful in all things. In crossing crossings cautiously; in not crossing platinum blondes; in not crossing business associates because my sister doesn’t like them. Okay, kid, I promise.” He smiled at her. “And now we’ve had enough gloom for one night. I’ll buy you a drink. In fact, I’ll buy everybody a drink.”
Joe nodded over the last crust of his sandwich. The mood of the party changed.
Naomi’s eyes brightened. She even winked at Joe. “Now we can have fun,” she announced and looked at Milly. “Come on,” she pleaded. “Don’t be a stick. What will you have, Milly?”
Milly’s smile was forced, but Joe gave her due credit. She said, “All right, Lady Astor. I can be as good a sport as you. I’ll have a daiquiri for a change.”
Dick said, “Atta girl! We’ll make it a celebration. Come on, South, you can drink a toast to mine and Milly’s engagement at the same time.”
Naomi said, “Are you going to start that again, Dick?”
“Start it!” Richard scowled into his drink and put a hand over Milly’s. “We’re going to finish it tomorrow. How do you like that?” He wavered against Naomi and put his face close to hers. “No more strings, eh, sis? No more lectures from Uncle Park and Stuyvie. I’ll show that Dutch uncle a thing or two. I’ve got more strings on my racket than Bill Tilden.” He straightened up and smiled at Milly. “This time tomorrow night I’ll have the license in my pocket, and by next week you’ll be Mrs. Richard Lyons Raleigh. How about it, mush-face?”
Milly was pouting. She giggled, “Dicky, I thought you said it was a secret.” But she was obviously pleased.
“Secret, hell! I’m tired of asking somebody every time I have to change my shorts. They didn’t think I’d do it. I’ll show ’em.”
Joe said, “Hadn’t you better have another drink and call it a night, Raleigh?” He grinned. “Drink twice before you speak. Them’s my motto. Then you can’t speak.”
Shermond looked pained all over again. He was trying not to look at Joe and Raleigh.
“Naomi, darling,” his voice was pleading. “I can’t stand much more of this. Must we stay?”
Naomi bent forward and stroked his chin.
“All right, precious. Just one little drink and we’ll go. Just for me? Please?”
Shermond shrugged without answering and looked at the greasy-paunched bartender with distaste. Joe ordered a Scotch and soda. The others ordered daiquiries. Shermond still refused.
The detective relaxed and smiled in response to Naomi’s wink. She was as good at it as Milly was with the giggles. Maybe she’d be fun if he didn’t have this job on his hands. She’d bundle up into just about the right kind of package to tote around town the next time May got into one of her all-too-frequent independent moods. He shook his head to clear it. He was beginning to feel groggy and tired, and the close atmosphere of the dingy tavern was giving him a headache.
Naomi rose and pulled on the slicker. Shermond got up eagerly.
“Not going to leave us?” Richard’s voice was mocking.
Naomi answered for Shermond. “You know how Charles is, Dick,” she reminded him. “He doesn’t drink and he’s a working man. It’s getting late,” she added, and to Joe, “Keep the home fires burning, Father Brown.”
Joe went to the door with them and heard the car start. He glanced at his watch. It was ten minutes past twelve. They had been in the place much longer than he had thought. He wondered if Shermond would take Naomi back to the Raleigh house now that she and Dick appeared to have made up.
He returned to the table and picked up his drink. It would be the last for the evening. Dick and Milly were dancing again. Joe lifted his glass to the couple and swallowed its contents in one gulp. What a job this had turned out to be. Well he had been paid in advance. If the job ended tomorrow he would still be ahead. He would see Parker Raleigh in the morning and tell him how the plan had backfired before it had time to get a good start.
He sat still with his elbows resting on the table and his chin in his hands. Richard and Milly, swaying to the rhythm of the music, merged into one. Then there were two couples. Two Richards and two Millies and two juke boxes. The door came up at a forty-five-degree angle, but the couple danced on. Suddenly Joe felt very sick. He made an effort to call out, but before sound came his elbows
