Vanishing Ladies by Ed McBain

Author:Ed McBain
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
Published: 2016-07-06T00:00:00+00:00

10

She was wearing the same purple silk dress she’d worn the last time I’d seen her. Her face was made up again. Her eyes, despite the make-up, were tired, very tired. She carried a long white stole over her arm.

“Blanche!” I said, and she turned quickly, spotted me, and for a minute seemed about to leave. She apparently changed her mind, held her ground, and waited as I approached her.

“Hello, Blanche,” I said.

She looked up at me suspiciously. “I don’t think I know you,” she said.

I wasn’t prepared for that. I stared at her and then said, “Does it matter?”

“Maybe not. What do you want?”

“I want to buy you a cup of coffee.”

“What’s the special occasion?”

“Do I have to be in love to buy you a cup of coffee?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay. But I’m in a hurry.”

“So am I. Come on over.”

We walked to the table. Blanche sat, and the man behind the counter said, “Hello, Blanche.” She nodded at him.

“Another cup of coffee,” I said to the counterman. “For the lady.”

The “lady” bit killed him. His eyebrows shot up onto his forehead, and then he turned to draw the coffee.

“Where’d you disappear to last night?” I asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We both know what I’m talking about,” I said.

“Mister, all I want’s a cup of coffee.”

“That’s all you’ll get.”

“Good.”

“But you won’t mind if I ask some questions?”

“I will mind.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like questions.”

“Do I have to get tough?”

“It’d get you no place. Men don’t scare me. I’ve had men up to here.”

“My father used to say, ‘Treat a lady like a whore, and a whore like a lady.’ How do I treat you, Blanche?”

She raised her eyes and looked at me long and hard. “Like a lady,” she answered. Her voice was very small.

“All right. I need help.”

“Why come to me?”

“Because I think you know what happened last night.”

“I know nothing.”

The counterman brought the coffee. “Anything else?” he asked.

“Nothing, thanks,” I said. I bit into the hamburger. The counterman went back to his counter. Unconsciously, I whispered the next. “What happened, Blanche?”

Blanche answered my whisper with her own. “I don’t know.”

“What were you doing at Barter’s place?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you work there?”

“No.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Then what were you doing there?”

“I took a cabin.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I was sleepy.”

“Who was the man in the wolves’-heads shorts?”

Blanche looked up sharply. “How … how did you …?”

“I met him.” I bit off another chunk of beef. “Were you with him before you came to my cabin?”

Blanche nodded.

“You were?”

“Yes.”

“Why’d you come to me?”

“I … Mike asked me to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“How did he ask you to?”

“He just said … I should go to your cabin. He said I should …” Blanche paused. “Listen, I can get in trouble. Listen, I can’t tell you any more.”

“I thought men didn’t scare you.”

“They don’t! I’m not afraid of Mike!”

“Who then?”

“I … I can’t tell you any more.”

“Did he ask you to keep me in the cabin? To keep me busy?”

Blanche bit her lip. “Y … yes.”

“For how long?”

“Half-hour, an hour. I don’t remember.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.

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