Where There's Smoke полностью

“Last night,” she said. “Well now, let me see. I went to bed right after the eleven-o’clock news. That is, I got ready for bed. I take a bath every night before I go to bed. Do you take a bath before you go to bed?”

“A shower,” I said. “I usually—”

“I don’t like showers,” she said. “I fill the tub with bubble bath, and I just lay back in it for maybe a half-hour. It’s very relaxing. Anyway, I don’t have a shower. All I have is a tub. It doesn’t matter, ‘cause I don’t like showers, anyway. What do you sleep in?” she asked.

“A bed,” I said.

“I mean, do you wear pajamas—or what?”

“Yes. Yes, I wear pajamas.”

“I don’t wear anything. I like to feel the sheets against my body. So let me see. I must’ve got to bed around twelve—well, maybe not exactly twelve, but around that time. Do you read in bed?”

“Sometimes.”

“I never read in bed. I hate reading, as a matter of fact. What I do is I turn off the light, and in two or three min­utes I drop off to sleep. That’s now, of course. When my husband was alive, he used to pester me to death all night long. Anyway, I must’ve been sleeping like a baby by a quarter past twelve. I’m usually a very sound sleeper— that indicates a clear conscience, huh?” she said, and smiled. “But last night there was traffic outside. There’s always traffic in that goddamn alley, you’d think people were dying to get in that funeral parlor.” She smiled, and lifted her glass, and winked at me over it, and said, “Did you get that?”

“Yes,” I said, and smiled. “Dying to get in,” I said.

“You’re very quick, Ben,” she said. “I like bright men.” She drained the glass and poured herself another drink. “So I got out of bed—starkers” she said, and paused for emphasis, “and took a look out the window to see what they were bringing in this time, as if I didn’t know.”

“What were they bringing in?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I went right back to bed.”

“Was there a car out there?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of a car?”

“A Volkswagen bus.”

“What year?”

“I don’t know. They all look the same to me.”

“What color?”

“Red-and-white. The top part was white.”

“You didn’t happen to notice the license plate, did you?”

“No, it was parked with the ... you know. The side of it was facing the bedroom window.”

“Did you notice who was driving it?”

“No, I went right back to bed.”

“What time was this, would you remember?”

“Must’ve been three o’clock in the morning. It was still dark, I know that. Only reason I could see out there was because of the little light Abner keeps burning over his back door. Do you think he’s a fag?”

“Abner?”

“Yes. I think he must be a fag. I’ve invited him in here for a drink on one or two occasions, and he’s always said no. That indicates something to me, Ben. I’m not brag­ging, but most people consider me a good-looking woman. Do you think I’m a good-looking woman? You don’t have to answer that,” she said, and smiled. “I can tell you do.”

“How long was the bus outside there?” I asked.

“I couldn’t say. I went right back to bed again. I have to get up early in the morning, you know. We’ve got a porter working here in the building, and he’s supposed to put out the garbage cans for pickup in the morning, but if I’m not there to supervise him, it never gets done. No­body takes pride in his work any more, Ben. That’s why I admire you so much. The job you’re doing.”

“What time did you get up this morning?” I asked.

“Usual time. Six a.m., rain or shine. The porter gets here at six-thirty, and by then I’ve usually thrown on a pair of dungarees and a sweatshirt, and I’m out there to supervise him putting out the cans. Takes him a half-hour or so, and then I usually have a glass of orange juice and go back to bed.”

“Is that what you did this morning?”

“That’s what I do every morning except Sunday, when there’s no garbage collection.”

“Was the bus gone when you woke up at six?”

“Yep. Gone with the wind. What time is it now, any­way?”

I looked at my watch. “It’s almost ten,” I said.

“Where does the day go?” she said, and smiled. “I’d better put some clothes on,” she said. “Before you start getting ideas. Me sitting around in just a robe.”

I stood up, put the chair back in place under the table, and said, “You’ve been very helpful, Connie. Thank you.”

“What is it you’re investigating, anyway?” she asked. “Sit down, Ben, don’t be in such a hurry. I can tell you’re a very active man, but that’s no reason to go running off.”

“I’ve got some other stops,” I said.

“What time do you think you’ll be through?” she asked.

“I have no idea.”

“Give me a call,” she said, “huh? Maybe we can have a drink together. When you’re off duty, I mean. It’s 555-2368. Very easy to remember. Do you think you can re­member it?”

“I’ll remember it,” I said.

“I’ll bet you have a very retentive memory,” she said. “Don’t forget, okay? 555-2368. Even if you’re through late tonight, that’ll be okay, you can call whenever you’re through, okay? You might feel like having a drink after a hard day’s work, who knows? I’ll be here.”

“Thanks again,” I said, and left.