The Ace of Spades - Dell Shannon (5 page)

She bent forward, brushing her hair vigorously,
angrily. And that was woolgathering with a vengeance, all right!
Anybody as smart as Alison Weir— or as smart as Alison Weir ought
to be, at least— with one abortive short-lived marriage behind her
and thirty years of varied living, should know Luis Mendoza for what
he was at one look. Luis— like one of his beloved cats, fastidious,
independent, aloof. Not for any one woman, maybe ever.

Luis . . . She laid down the hairbrush; and the phone
rang. "Oh, hello, Pat," she said, putting false
cheerfulness in her tone.

"I just called to say that Cheryl Bradley
dropped in this morning, and I asked her about that thing you found—
you'd said she'd ridden home with you from that dreary party at the
Mawsons'. It's not hers, she says."

"Oh, well, thanks. That really about covers
everybody I know who might've lost it in the car. I think it must
have been whoever took it. You know, the more I look at it the more I
feel it is awfully old and might be valuable. Luis said so .... D'you
suppose I ought to advertise it? I mean, if anyone showed up to claim
it I could tell that Sergeant Rhodes— "

"Nobody would dare," said Miss Moore.

"But if I said something like, found in the
Exposition Park area?

They might not realize it'd dropped out in the car—
"

"Finders keepers," said Miss Moore. "I
don't suppose it's anything but a worthless so-called lucky piece,
but just to be on the safe side, I'd advise you to take it to an
expert and see if it is worth anything. And in the unlikely event
that it is, take the profit and return thanks to Providence."

"Yes," said Alison, "but— Oh, well,
I suppose it is the sensible thing to do. Thanks anyway. Are you
going to the Vesperian exhibition on Friday? Then I'll pick you up,
about one o'clock? O.K., thanks, Pat." As she put the phone down
and went back to the bedroom to finish applying lipstick, the
door-buzzer sounded, and she said to herself, "Damn,"
snatched up her dressing gown and struggled into it on the way to the
door.

The woman standing in the hall didn't look quite like
the ordinary house-to-house salesperson: nor did she act like one.
She surveyed Alison head to foot and said, "But I did not expect
such a one! You look to be, how is it said, a cut above!"

"I beg your pardon," said Alison. The woman
was dark, elegant, exquisitely dressed: middle height, slim but
rounded, waxen-white complexion, dark eyes cleverly elongated,
polished dark hair in the latest fashionable cut, cameo-pure
features. Over thirty, but not much, and not looking it. And dressed
in what Alison instantly recognized as not only the latest fashion
and exactly the right thing for her, but the latest original fashion,
for which a very respectable sum of money must have been  paid
out. That subtly-cut powder-blue silk-faille afternoon gown, the
elbow-length gloves to match, the small bit of blue frivolity with a
veil meant for a hat, the sapphire— colored earrings and bracelets,
the big diamond on the ungloved hand, the cobweb stockings, the
spike-heeled black patent pumps, the black faille bag with a big
rhinestone initial— an ornate L— all of them, probably, would
have cost as much as Alison earned in six months. And the cloud of
musky, heavy scent wafting out from her, as much again per
application, very likely.

"It is not you with cause to beg the pardon,"
said this apparition, "but him! Is he here?" Her gaze swept
over Alison's printed rayon dressing gown. "You are in the
center of dressing— undressing? If he is here— I come in, I wish
to speak with him!"

"You don't come in," said Alison, angry and
bewildered. "What is it you want? You must have mistaken the
apartment— "

"No, no, I memorize the address! Miss Alison
Weir, it is? You have very nice hair, my dear, if one does not mind
the color. I come in!"

And she brushed by Alison regally, to the middle of
the living room.

"But what a pity to live in such a little
squalid flat! Can you do no better?"

“
Look here!" said Alison, furiously conscious
that the dressing gown had only cost nine dollars new and that she
was in her bare feet and hadn't any lipstick on, "this is my
apartment and I don't know you— if you don't leave at once— "

"Naturally you do not know me, You have a
temper— so indeed have I. Is he here?" She swept into the
bedroom, into the bath, back across the living room to look into the
kitchenette. "Ah! He is not here! But you expect him, perhaps?"

"Are you implying," said Alison, drawing
herself up to her full sixty-four inches, "that I— "

"Imply, what is this? You need not put on the
good face for me, miss! I beg you, be calm, I have no quarrel with
you at this moment! It is that women, we should be sisters together,
not so, and help one another? That is why I have come. I reason, here
it is probable I find him alone— except for you, of course— and
it is much better to make the direct talk. I promise myself, I will
restrain my temper, I will be dignified— however difficult,
considering the dishonor he uses with me! But I see he is not here."

"I must ask you to 1eave," said Alison in
her iciest tone.

"I will go, because he is not here and it is of
no use to stay. A pity, for I had in my mind all the things I wish to
say to him, and you know how, when one loses one's temper, the words
go out of the head and one can only stutter! But you will tell him,
miss, I am not so stupid and innocent as he think! You will tell him,
he does not give Lydia the— the stall, the run— about, forever!—
you see I know even your American slang, I am not what he would say
the easy mark! You tell him this— that I deal direct with him, one
chance more I give him to be honorable with me— in two days, he
take it or he leave it— and he will be very wise to take it! He
knows where I am to be found." She gave Alison a significant,
queenly nod and sailed out the door.

For thirty seconds Alison was too possessed by rage
to move. Then she whirled for the phone at the desk, had to look up
the number, dialed it wrong twice, finally got police headquarters
and demanded the Homicide office, got Sergeant Lake. "I want to
speak to the lieutenant .... Oh, yes, I'll hang on! With pleasure! .
. . This is the lieutenant speaking? Lieutenant Luis Rodolfo Vicente
Mendoza, the well known great lover? Well, Lieutenant, I have several
things to say to you— "and she took a deep breath and
commenced to say them, beginning with the announcement that if he
thought it amusing to hand out her name and address to his other
girl-friends, she did not, and in any case she didn't feel at all
flattered to be one of a company which included this Lydia—

"What, who? What have I done?" protested
Mendoza. "It's a lie!
¿Come dice? Tómelo
can colma, chica
— "

"— Lydia," said Alison distinctly. "If
you search your memory, or maybe you keep a neat little list of them
all, you'll remember her, I'm sure! A black-eyed hussy in spike heels
and a Jacques Fath original with a phoney-sounding accent— and
about half a pint of Chypre. Surely you haven't forgotten Lydia? You
really should keep a list! Yes,
¡villano, tú
canalla, tú calamidad!
— I am annoyed,
¡estoy muy molest!— ¡no lo niego!
—
looking at me as if I was a peasant or something, and smelling like a
high-class brothel— very nice if one likes the color, she says,
this— this—
¡perra negra!
—
¡nunca abbía visto tamaño descaro
,
such impudence!
¡Es demasiado
,
too much!"

"Wait a minute,
chica
,
calm down, what the hell is this all about? ¡Eso no es cierto— I'm
absolutely innocent, I don't know any Lydia! I never-"

"Oh, you liar—
¡tú
mentiroso!— ¡no tengamos la de siempre
,
the same old story! And, damn it, I hadn't even any lipstick on—
looking at me as if I was— and— "

"
¡Vaya despacio, no hay
tal!
I swear to you— what the devil is all
this? I'm innocent as day,
querida
.... All right, all right, hold everything, I'm coming round, I want
to hear about this!
¡Por Dios!
—
ruining my reputation, calling here through the switchboard— —
¡no metan tanta bulla
,
not so much noise!"

"I couldn't care less, and besides they must all
know what you're like by now— I wouldn't doubt having a good laugh
over it— Men! A— a— a poor man's Gabor, looking down her nose
at me— "

"I'm coming, I'm coming!—
¡ni
qué niño muerto!
— nonsense!" The
phone clicked firmly in her ear.

Alison went on talking to herself, kicking the
hassock in passing and groping after some of her father's favorite
swearwords, for about five minutes. Then she went to the kitchen and
got down the bottle of rye, and eyeing it began to laugh. So all
right, how senseless could you get? She didn't like rye, but he never
drank anything else.

"Is it safe to come in?" asked Mendoza when
she opened the door.

"
Querida mia
,
what have I done to deserve this? One female at a time enough to keep
any man occupied!"

“
Have you placed Lydia?" asked Alison grimly.

"I have not. I never knew one. I don't know one
now. I don't want to know one.
Mi novia, mi
hermosa
, why would I want a Lydia— "

"Now you just keep your distance!" said
Alison. "Oh, yes, try to pass it off and make me forget it!
Walking in cool as you please, this hussy, and calling it a squalid
little flat!— it's a wonder I didn't kill her— "

"No, really now, no joke— no little games,
chica
." He pulled
her down beside him on the couch. "What happened?" She told
him, more or less coherent by then. "I will be damned,"
said Mendoza. "
Honestamente
,
I don't know her— don't know anything about it. What the hell could
have brought her here? She knew your name, you said? Me, for better
or worse I was raised halfway a gentleman— you don't bandy females'
names around! I'm surprised at you, thinking such a thing of me."

"Well!" said Alison, relaxing slightly. "I
was mad.
With
reason.
And she said— "

“
Yes, let's hear it all, as clear as you remember
.... That's a very funny little story. Where could she have got your
name? And a couple of things she said— all that about dealing
direct— it doesn't exactly sound like any romantic affair, does it?
More like a business deal of some kind, maybe? . . . And who is 'he'?
I wonder . . .
¡un momento!
the car! Now I do wonder— whoever took the car— maybe she'd had a
ride in it, and noticed the registration slip, and thought you were
the girl-friend of the thief. It could be."

"I suppose so," said Alison doubtfully. "It
seems sort of far-fetched .... Luis? You're not just making it into a
mystery to take my mind oif, are you?"

He laughed and kissed her. "You're too
suspicious. I don't know one thing about it— it's just a funny
little story. Go and get dressed— that amber thing— and I'll take
you to dinner.
Más primero, acérquese
—
come nearer .... O.K.,
querida
?"

"Well, O.K.,"
said Alison with a sigh. She drew away and looked at him, head
cocked. "Of course, I nright feel a little more satisfied if I
didn't happen to know you're an awfully good poker-player .... D'you
want a drink while I'm getting dressed?"

* * *

It was after midnight when Mendoza got home, to the
rather old-fashioned apartment building on a quiet dead-end street,
and put the car away in the garage, let himself into his apartment.
The sleek brown Bast greeted him with pleased soft cries. Various
visitors had left five notes in a row propped on the mantel; he read
them from the left to right as he took off his coat and tie. That
autocratic old lady Se
ñ
ora
Teresa Maria Sancia Mendoza, who at eighty-six was enjoying life far
more than she had in her youth, living in a Wilshire Boulevard
apartment and telling everyone grandiloquent lies about her
impeccable Castilian ancestry, informed him in a black scrawl that he
should be more careful about what persons he gave access to his
quarters; she would not put it beyond this Carter woman to pry into
one's drawers, having found her on the premises when she called. And
it was nearly two weeks since he had come to see her, and she trusted
he would not forget her birthday next week. When he acquired a wife,
which was devoutly to be hoped for, as he was not getting any
younger, these affairs would be better arranged for him— always
supposing he had the sense, which she frequently doubted, to choose a
sensible and satisfactory wife. She much desired that he should make
time to visit her soon, as there were some pleasant new neighbors she
would like him to meet.