Janey Conrad looked anxiously around the crowded bar. She had got past the doorman by telling him she was expecting friends. The Paradise Club didn’t encourage women on their own. The club had its own flock of hostesses, and outside competition wasn’t welcomed.
The last time Janey had come to the club she had been picked up almost immediately by a fat, elderly man who had spent the evening buying her drinks and telling her off-colour stories. Janey had found him insufferably dull, but now she hoped feverishly that he would put in an appearance, but there was no sign of him.
In fact there appeared to be no unattached men this night at the club, and Janey began to grow uncomfortable. She realized she couldn’t continue to sit alone at the corner table much longer. Already the bartender was looking her way, and two of the hostesses, bright, brassy-looking girls, were eyeing her over with open hostility.
She nervously finished her drink. What a let-down if she had to go! she thought. After spending the whole evening making herself look as attractive as she could, and then wasting a taxi fare to the club. There was nowhere else she dared go. At least none of Paul’s stuffy friends ever came to the Paradise Club.
Then just when she was resigning herself that she could stay no longer, she saw a tall man moving towards her, wearing a faultlessly cut tuxedo: a man that set her heart beating rapidly. His lean good-looking face and the white scar that ran from his left eye to his nose set her nerves in a flutter.
He paused at her table and gave her a wide friendly smile. She smiled back, a little uneasily, but she didn’t attempt to conceal her hopeful interest.
“Don’t tell me he’s stood you up,” Seigel said, bending over her. She felt he was trying to look down the front of her low-cut dress, and she drew back, a little alarmed, but excited, too. “I’ve been watching you. You’ve been here quite a time.”
“Well, yes,” she said, and glanced at her wrist-watch. “He is late, but he’ll be along. He — he’s always late.”
“Time and woman should wait for no man,” Seigel said, his smile widening. “Can’t I take his place?”
She pretended to hesitate.
“Well, I don’t know. I — well, we don’t know each other, do we?”
He pulled out a chair and sat down.
“That’s easily fixed. I’m Louis Seigel. Who are you?”
“Janey… Conrad,” Janey said, remembering that Paul had said she was easily recognized and deciding at the last moment not to give her maiden name.
“Well, there you are,” Seigel said. “We now know each other. Simple, isn’t it? Let’s have a drink.”
She watched him snap his fingers at the bartender, and saw how quickly the bartender came out from behind his bar to take Seigel’s order. She noticed, too, the drinks came with miraculous swiftness, and the martini the bartender placed before her was unrecognizable from the one she had ordered and had to wait for.
“I wish I were a man,” she said, as the bartender went away.
“You get all the service. The last drink I had was disgusting.”
“I’m glad you aren’t a man,” Seigel returned, giving her his famous bold look. He had always wondered how Conrad had got hold of such a lovely wife, and now at close quarters he wondered still more. “Didn’t I see you here a few nights ago?”
Janey nodded.
“I look in sometimes. I like this place. Do you know it well?”
“Pretty well,” Seigel said, and laughed. “It’s the best of the night spots in town.” He picked up the martini. “Here’s to a long and beautiful friendship.” He drank the martini, emptying his glass in one swallow. “Down the hatch with it,” he went on, “and let’s have another.”
Janey was ready to comply, and the bartender immediately served two more martinis without being asked. She was not slow to notice the frank admiration in Seigel’s eyes as he looked at her. She was experienced enough to know Seigel was dangerous. He wouldn’t be content just to sit and talk. Before very long the inevitable suggestion that they should go somewhere alone together would be made, and Janey’s heart beat a little quicker as she tried to make up her mind just how far she would allow him to go. It didn’t occur to her that when the time came, she might have no choice. She had plenty of confidence in herself to handle any situation, but then she wasn’t to know that Seigel was a difficult man to stop, once he got going.
Talking to him, seeing the way he was looking at her, feeling the effects of the martinis and hearing the dance band in the restaurant, brought back to Janey the exciting days before she married. She had really kicked the can around in those days, she thought. After all, it wasn’t all that long ago: three years.
“You have a wicked thought running through your mind,” Seigel said. He had the knack of reading a woman’s mind. It was because he invariably knew the right moment to make his advances that his success with women had become a bye-word amongst his friends.
Janey flushed. “I haven’t!” She finished her martini and put the glass down on the table with a defiant little click. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Seigel grinned.
“Oh, yes, you do. You’re wondering what my next move will be, and if I’m going to suggest you come back to my place to look at a valuable etching I’ve just bought.”
Janey stared at him, for a moment nonplussed, then she laughed.
“I was thinking nothing of the kind!”
He leaned forward. There was an animal magnetism in his strength and looks that left Janey a little breathless.
“Are you interested in etchings?”
She shook her head.
“Not a scrap. Are you?”
“No. I’ve never found an etching was necessary.” His smile widened. “A good dinner, a little dancing, discreet lights and soft music are far ahead of any etching.” He pushed his chair back. “Shall we eat?”
Janey looked at him and hesitated. She suddenly sensed that this big, goodlooking man might be taking too much for granted, and he might, as the evening wore on, become much more difficult to handle than she had first imagined. But she knew if she refused his invitation he would leave her flat, and then she would have to go back to the dreary, empty house and the still more dreary television set.
“You’re talking in riddles,” she said, “but I’m hungry, so I will eat.”
“Fine. While you’re powdering your pretty nose,” Seigel said, “I have a phone call to make. Let’s meet here in five minutes.”
“It’ll take me longer to powder my nose than five minutes,” Janey said, refusing to be ordered about.
“In five minutes,” Seigel said, smiling, and walked quickly across the bar to the lounge where a row of pay booths were discreetly concealed.
He dialled a number, and while he was waiting for the-connection, he lit a cigarette.
Janey puzzled him. If he hadn’t known who she was, and that she was married to Conrad, he would have been certain that she was inviting seduction. Was she playing with him? he wondered, or was she really a push-over? Was Conrad going to appear suddenly just when Seigel was ready to move in for the kill? Was that the idea? Would Conrad let his wife come here on her own and act like this just for a chance of making trouble for Seigel? Seigel doubted it, but he decided to play his hand carefully.
A click sounded in his ear and Moe Gleb’s growling voice snarled, “Wadyawan’?”
“I’ve got a job for you,” Seigel said curtly. “You and Pete are to handle it: the works, understand? Pete will do the hitting, you’ll take care of the wheel. Get Pete, and stick to your end of the phone until you hear from me. I’ll let you have the address as soon as I get it.”
“Hey! Don’t we case the joint first?” Moe’s voice sounded startled.
“You won’t have time. The job’s got to be done within a half-hour of you getting the address; after that the cops move in. It’s important; no slipping up, Moe. I’m holding you responsible; understand?”
“Sure,” Moe said.
“Make it a pick job: no noise and quick. I’ll call you any time from now on, so stick close,” and Seigel dropped the receiver back on its hook. He walked quickly along the passage to his office and pushed open the door.
Maurer and Gollowitz were still in the room. Dolores, Maurer’s wife, had joined them.
Seigel looked at her, feeling his blood quicken; something that always happened to him whenever he saw her.
Dolores was his idea of a woman. No other woman he had ever known excited him as she did. He knew she was as beyond his reach as the snow-capped heights of Everest, but that didn’t stop him thinking about her, conjuring up dreams of her and lying awake at nights sweating for her.
She had married Maurer for his money and his power. Seigel knew that, and he knew also she was paying a high price for the position she held.
Maurer by now was sated with women. He had only to lift a finger for any girl to throw herself at him. His control of the movie unions, the night spots along the Californian coast and the big theatres gave him power over the big movie stars as well as the little stars. Even June Arnot, with her fabulous wealth, had thrown herself at him. To him, Dolores was just one more woman, and he treated her as such.
Seigel’s eyes went over Dolores as she sat at the bar in a shimmering emerald green evening dress, covered with glittering sequins. She had the most perfect skin he had ever seen on a woman: like old ivory with the texture of cream. Her masses of dark-red hair set off her big, almond-shaped green eyes, and her figure, tall, lush and sensual, turned his mouth dry.
She swung around on the high stool and smiled at him. It was a mocking smile of a woman who knew what was going on in his mind and didn’t care.
“Hello, Louis,” she said. “How’s the romance going? I saw you with the blonde. Do you like her?”
Seigel changed colour. He looked quickly at Maurer, then over at Gollowitz. He knew Gollowitz was crazy about Dolores, and he knew Gollowitz stood a chance. If anything happened to Maurer, he knew Gollowitz would not only take over the organization, but he would also take over Dolores. He knew Dolores hated Gollowitz as much as she hated Maurer, but so long as fat old men had money and power, the kind of money and power Maurer had and Gollowitz would have, she chose them.
“Keep out of this,” Maurer said, frowning over his shoulder at Dolores. “If you can’t keep quiet, you’d better get out.”
“Oh, I can keep quiet, Jack,” she returned, smiling. “Just regard me as part of the scenery.”
Maurer’s eyes moved to Seigel.
What’s she doing here?”
Seigel shrugged.
“I don’t know. She’s having dinner with me. She told me who she was, and
she’s already a little high. The way she’s acting, she’s a push-over, but maybe she’s playing me for a sucker.”
“Not you, Louis,” Dolores said mockingly. “Anyone else but you. I’m sure she’s just dying to feel your manly arms round her and your passionate breath against her cheek. Who wouldn’t?”
Seigel’s face went a dusky red and a look of vicious fury jumped into his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped himself in time.
“Go away, Dolly,” Maurer said without looking round. “I’ve had enough of you tonight. Go home!”
Dolores slid off her stool, picked up her ermine wrap she had thrown carelessly over the back of a chair and walked across the room, trailing the wrap behind her. She moved slowly, a little smile on her red lips, and she swayed her hips slightly, attracting the attention of Gollowitz and Seigel who both watched her with intent expressions. As she passed Seigel, she wrinkled her nose at him.
“Good night, Abe,” she said at the door.
“Good night,” Gollowitz said with a little bow. He was careful not to look at her nor to let Maurer see the anger in his eyes.
“Good night, Louis,” she said.
“Oh, get out!” Maurer exclaimed angrily. “We’re busy!”
“And good night, darling.”
She went out, closing the door behind her.
Maurer made an impatient gesture with his hands.
“Damned women! If that bitch doesn’t…”
“We shouldn’t keep Mrs. Conrad waiting,” Gollowitz put in sharply.
“That’s right,” Maurer said. He looked over at Seigel. “Get friendly with her, Louis. She might be useful, but watch your tongue. Make sure she isn’t after information.”
“I’ll watch it,” Seigel said.
“Get back to her. I don’t have to tell you how to handle her, but handle her right.”
Seigel nodded and stepped out into the passage and closed the door.
Janey was waiting for him in the cocktail bar, and it gave him sadistic pleasure to see how worried she looked as she sat at the table. It was so obvious that she was thinking he had walked out on her, and she was once more alone.
“Well for goodness sake!” she exclaimed when she saw him. “You said five minutes and you’ve been a quarter of an hour.”
He grinned at her.
“The number was engaged.” He ran his eyes over her. She was good, but not in the same class as that red-headed devil. Still, she would have to do instead. He would take her somewhere in the dark and imagine she was Dolores. She wasn’t going to forget this night with him. He would leave a scar on her mind — a scar in memory of Dolores.
“Come on,” he said, taking her arm possessively. “Let’s eat.”