Night Squad by David Goodis Read Free Book Online

you'd go with me sometime.”

          “We'll try to arrange it,” Grogan said.

          “You're always saying that.”

          “Well, you know how it is. I just don't have the time.”

          “You could find the time.”

          “Not hardly,” Grogan said. “Believe me, dear, I'm up to my neck in work.”

          “It isn't that I'm complaining,” she said. “It's for your sake as well as mine. You shouldn't work so hard. If only you'd slacken up a bit. You look so tired.”

          “I'm not tired.” There was a tightness in his voice. “It's just that I'm—”

          “Walter, please.”

          Grogan turned away, his head lowered. He was biting his lip. He muttered, “—tells me I'm tired.”

          “Don't,” she said quietly but firmly. “Don't start that.”

          But whatever it was, it was started and Grogan couldn't stop it. He went on muttering, “—it's one thing to be tired. It's another thing to be fed up. I tell you it's getting to the point where I'm—”

          “Not now,” she said warningly, and Grogan looked up and saw Corey standing there.

          He was quiet for a moment, then looked at her and mumbled, “All right, all right.” It was like a curtain lowered for a change of mood. Grogan rubbed his hand across his mouth, as though to wipe away the tightness and replace it with a soft smile. He went on smiling as he gazed down at the elegant carpet. He murmured, “Lita, this is Corey Bradford.”

          Lita nodded politely to Corey. Then she took a backward step, as though to get a fuller look at him. It started with his shoes. And he thought, she sees sad-looking shoes with the leather cracked, no shine at all and the heels worn down. And pants that need pressing and wouldn't last through another cleaning, with a jacket to match. Now she's looking at the necktie. It's an old necktie, the threads are coming loose. Same applies to the shirt. So all right, so we're not exactly up there with the ten best dressed. Let's let it go at that. But no, she won't let it go, she's looking at the shoes again—

          He heard himself saying, “I have a pair of new ones, but these are more comfortable.”

          “Really?” She folded her arms lightly across her middle. “Do you really have a pair of new shoes?”

          “No.” He grinned. “I was kidding.”

          She gave him a side glance. It was ice.

          He went on grinning at her. “Just kidding,” he said. “Can you take a little kidding?”

          Lita didn't answer. She turned her back to him, said good night to Grogan, and moved toward the stairway. Going up the stairs, she put on the reading glasses and started leafing through the pages of Thus Spake Zarathustra .

          Grogan waited until she was upstairs. Then he faced Corey and said, “You should'na done that. It don't take much to get her annoyed.”

          Corey shrugged. “So next time I'll know.”

          Grogan frowned at him. “You take life real easy, don't you?”

          He shrugged again. Grogan went on frowning, studying him. Then Grogan said, “Sit down.”

          Corey sat, leaned back in the chair and watched Grogan pacing back and forth in front of him. It went on that way for some moments, and Corey thought, don't say nothing, just wait it out. And whatever you do, don't play tag with him. You can see he's in no mood for games. The man is having aggravation and aside from his other worries he's got himself a bedroom problem. It's fifty to one he ain't getting much these days.

          Grogan stopped pacing. He sat down in an ebony armchair, facing Corey. “All right, here it is,” he said. “I like to give credit where credit is due. What you did tonight at the Hangout, it took talent. It was clean and fast and I guess you got as much style as I've ever seen. And I've seen the