White Shadow (58 page)

It was after hours at Tait’s Café, a speakeasy on O’Farrell, and as usual Al was late. Paddle fans worked away the smoke that rose from marble-topped tables where couples sat in little wiry chairs. There was a big stage, but the stage was bare except for a placard announcing A SPRIGHTLY AND DIVERTING ENTERTAINMENT INTERSPERSED WITH GUEST DANCING.

She ate ice cream and drank bourbon, mixing the two a bit, and hadn’t a clue on how she was going to be paying if Al didn’t show up with some cash. He was the one who drove her from Los Angeles along with the girl, the whole way bragging how they’d soon be dining in Paris on a king’s budget.

But Al Semnacher didn’t look much like a king when he walked through the alley door of the speakeasy. He looked more like a goddamn rube, with his graying hair, low hairline, and horn-rimmed glasses. A guy who’d stutter if his hand touched your tit.

“Anyone ever tell you that you look like a rube?” she asked. “Why don’t you clean your glasses now and again?”

“He’s here.”

“Who?”

“The mark.”

Maude rolled her eyes. “Just pay the tab and let’s fly. ‘The mark’? You never worked a con in your life.”

“What’s that?”

“Bourbon and ice cream.”

He wrinkled his nose, making him look like a spoiled-rotten kid smelling something he didn’t like.

“It’s good. Want some?”

“It’s gone.”

“So it is,” said Maude. “Say, your girl doesn’t exactly look like her pictures.”

“The nightie shots or the one from
Punch of the Irish
?”

“Both,” Maude said. “She’s gotten fat.”

Al Semnacher leaned back into the chair and drummed his little fingers. He readjusted his thick, dirty glasses and leaned in, speaking in his little voice: “She needs money and we need her.”

“And she’ll stick with the script?”

“A variation on the
Engineer’s Daughter
. But it’s a long con.”

“I’m glad you listen,” Maude said, thumping her fist on the table. “But, Al?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me do the thinkin’ in this relationship.”

Al fiddled with the long spoon, dabbing out just a teaspoon of the melted ice cream. He winked before he slipped the spoon into his mouth and said, “I like your hair.”

“Do you, now? You don’t think I look like a boy?”

“With those knockers that’d be kind of tough.”

Maude reached down and hefted those big boobs on her skinny frame and asked, “She’ll get us in?”

“She’s been knowin’ ole Fatty for years now. His pecker will get hard just hearin’ her name. Trust me.”

Maude met Al’s eyes and she smiled, keeping the contact.

“You have balls, Al. No brains. But a big set of ’em.”