Lady, Here's Your Wreath by James Hadley Chase Read Free Book Online

you wear sure knocks me.”
     “You like it, darlin'?”
     There she went again. “Yeah,” I said. “It sortta hangs around, doesn't it? I bet you leave quite a trail wherever you go.”
     She missed a step and her right foot went with my left. I changed, to get it right. “What a funny boy you are, darlin',” she said, looking at me quickly from under her hat.
     “Yeah,” I said, “crazy as a bug.”
     She stopped outside a door next to a small all-night eating-house. Dimly I could see a little brass plate screwed on to the door. I struck a match and read, 'Andree Kersh'.
     “My, my,” I said, “so you put your name on the door.”
     “Of course, darlin'.” She fumbled with her bag and found a key. “When you come again, I want you to find me easily.”
     I thought this dame was mighty good at kidding herself. The next time I called on her, she'd greet me with a flat-iron.
     I followed her up a short flight of stairs, past the lobby of the eating-house, up some more stairs, past two doors, also with brass plates, and up some more stairs still.
     She came to a small landing and again opened a door. “Here we are, darlin',” she said.
     I stepped into the room. One of those small joints. You open the front door and step into a double bed. The room was all bed.
     I wedged myself round her and got to the far end of the room. The bed divided us. I had to admit she'd taken a lot of trouble in fixing the room. It had a lot of neat little gadgets, and some of the pictures she'd got hanging on the wall even made me take a look.
     I said, “You've got a swell apartment here, ain't you?”
     She pulled off her hat and fluffed up her blonde hair. We took a look at each other. I'll give her this. She hadn't the usual hard, gimme face of the streetwalker. She would have been quite a looker if her chin wasn't so pointed. That rather hardened her face, but for the rough work she was all right. If I hadn't been sitting with Mardi for an hour, I guess this floozie would have interested me more than somewhat.
     I tossed my hat on a peg and grinned at her. She had given me one long, searching glance, summed me up, and her smile back was full of things to come.
     “You like it, huh?” she said.
     That's another thing I love. When a dame says 'huh'.
     At the head of the bed, and on each side, were two doors. She said, “I won't be a minute,” and before I could stop her she went through one of the doors.
     I sat on the bed and lit a cigarette. Somewhere in this joint was my five grand, unless she'd pushed it into a safe deposit. If she'd done that I was sunk, but, knowing how these floozies like to keep their dough right by their hand, I reckoned that I wasn't going to be disappointed.
     She came in again wearing a come-hither smile.
     I wish I'd started my tricks before she got going, but it was too late now.
     She came over and sat on the bed. “May I have my present, darlin'?” she said.
     This is where it was going to be tricky. I shook my head. “You got it all wrong, baby,” I said. “I'm charging you for this outing.”
     I said she hadn't the usual hard, gimme face of the streetwalker. Well, I was wrong. I was crazy to have thought otherwise. Away went the bright smile and the flashing eye, just like they were blotted out with a sponge. Her face suddenly became set. “What you mean?” she said, her voice suddenly taking on a harsh note. This dame was looking tough.
     I flicked the ash off my cigarette. “Just that,” I said, slowly putting myself in a position so that I could get up quick if she started anything. Something told me that she was likely to start something. “Maybe we better get introduced, baby,” I went on. “I'm Nick Mason.”
     Just for a second she gave herself away, but then she came