The Lady Has a Scar

by Hank Janson

  Nearly everybody had gone now. Dane came back, looked around, saw me and came over.

  ‘Where’s Stella?’ he asked.

  ‘Where’s Burden?’ I replied. ‘Where he is, she’ll be.’

  ‘He’s outside seeing them off,’ he said. ‘She must be in here somewhere.’

  ‘Why bother?’ I asked.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he went across to the laundry basket, fished inside and came up with a green dress. Since everybody had gone home, and since everybody had got themselves dressed, it must have been the only garment left in the laundry basket. I saw right away what was in his mind. That green dress was the one Stella had been wearing that evening.

  He looked around thoughtfully, went out. A hand plucked at my arm.

  ‘Look, fella,’ she said. ‘He didn’t take his pen. He’s gone home without it.’

  I looked at the mantelpiece. Charles Skinner’s pen was still there.

  ‘He’ll come back for it,’ I said. I wasn’t worried about the damned pen. I was thinking of Dane. I had the uneasy feeling he was in the mood to do practically anything.

  ‘Are you going to take me home, honey?’ she drawled.

  ‘Later,’ I said absently. ‘Just wait here, will ya, honey? I‘ve got places to go.’

  I followed Dane out of the lounge. All the ground-floor rooms were lighted. I went into all of them. Dane wasn’t in any of them.

  In a small room next to the kitchen the coloured maid who had been dancing was stretched out on a settee with a happy air of relaxation. Her eyes were closed, but her face was smiling and her white teeth gleaming. The fat man who’d been squashing grapes earlier that evening was sitting beside her. He was engrossed in plucking grapes from the fruit dish and crushing them between the girl’s breasts. He wore an air of utmost concentration and the studied detachment of a scientist.

  Somehow, the very look of that guy annoyed me. There was a large bunch of grapes in the bowl. I fished it out, went around him, put one hand firmly at the back of his neck and well and truly squashed the grapes into his face, into his ears and around his neck. I walked out, leaving him coughing and spluttering, and ran up to the first floor, the only place where Dane could have gone.

  There was an alcove half-way up the stairs. A tall, broad-shouldered guy was struggling in there with another of the coloured maids. One of the maids who hadn’t been drinking. She wasn’t screaming but she was fighting him off with a kinda desperate fury. He’d got her dress open down the front and half over her shoulders. There was something impressive about the desperate silence in which she fought him.

  Everything that had been going on all evening finally got under my skin. A guy can stand just so much. Beastliness had been mounting steadily in this house ever since I’d arrived. I had no idea who he was. But that didn’t make any difference to the way I felt.

  I took him by the collar, jerked him away from the girl, whirled him around, and, while he was still grasping in surprise, placed him carefully with the back of his heels on the top stair.

  He was still looking surprised when I socked him on the point. I let him have it good and hard, with all the savageness of my outraged feelings. His shoulders hit the stairs half-way down and he turned a complete somersault before he hit bottom. When he hit bottom he just stayed there. I was beyond caring about him. I climbed the rest of the stairs and began opening all the doors I could find.

  There were still some folks around. They were using darkened rooms.

  I switched on the light just long enough to see what I wanted and then slammed the door on them.

  The fifth door I came to was the one I wanted. I knew it, even before I opened the door.

  I knew it because I could hear Stella. And Stella was as mad as hell. You could tell it by the high-pitched vibration of her voice.

  Well, I was in the mood for trouble now. I’d just about got worked up to it. I seized the door-handle, twisted it savagely and flung open the door.

  4

  Stella was furious. Her tumbled auburn hair was gleaming like gold against her white shoulders. Her posture was arrogant and her eyes flashed. As soon as she saw me she said: ‘You can get out, too!’

  It was a bedroom. Stella was standing over by the bed and making a very pretty picture in pale blue, filmy underclothing. She’d been shouting at Dane, who stood at the foot of the bed, his cheeks flushed with anger and holding Stella’s green dress in his hands.

  I closed the door behind me and said quietly: ‘Let’s get going, Dane.’

  He was mad but fighting hard to keep control of himself. ‘I don’t want no more trouble, Stella,’ he said ominously. ‘Put on this dress and I’ll take you home.’

  ‘For the last time,’ she flared, ‘I don’t want you to take me home.’

  ‘This ain’t a nice place for you to be,’ he said. ‘I just wanna see you get home safe. There’s a lotta wolves around with big ideas. All I want is to see you get home without any trouble. Now put the dress on and come along, will you?’

  ‘Can’t you get it into your thick head that I’m not coming with you,’ she flared.

  ‘All right,’ he flared back. ‘So you don’t want my company? Well, you can let Hank take you home. He’ll see you get home safe.’

  She looked at him, breathed hard and deliberately sat on the edge of the bed and began to peel off her stockings.

  ‘What the hell are you up to?’ roared Dane. ‘You can’t stop here!’

  ‘And why not?’ she demanded. She rolled her stockings into a ball, put them at the side of the bed and climbed in between the sheets.

  ‘Stella,’ pleaded Dane. ‘Have you gone crazy or something? You can’t stop here all night. Not in this house!’

  I guess Dane sure thought a lot of Stella. I looked around the room quickly and formed my own conclusions. But Dane wasn’t being very bright. Stella’s hair was like a golden shower against the white pillowcase. The sheet was up beneath her chin and she was fumbling beneath it, working her body around.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, clear out, Dane!’ she said wearily. ‘If I want to stop here the night I will, and that’s the end of it.’

  ‘But you can’t stop in this house,’ said Dane. He was pleading with her now like he thought he could appeal to her affection for him. I could see right away she had no feelings for him whatsoever. He was a pain in the neck to her.

  Her hand came up from beneath the sheets, holding dainty, frothy undergarments that she’d taken off. She dropped them on the chair by the side of the bed. ‘Turn the light out when you go,’ she said. ‘I’m tired.’

  Dane went almost frantic. He started trying to dominate her. ‘I won’t stand for it, Stella,’ he said. ‘Put this dress on now. And let me take you home. If you won’t put it on –why, I’ll make you put it on!’

  Her eyes were murderous now, like knives. She reached one bare arm over the coverlet. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘Give it to me.’

  I don’t know if Dane really thought she was gonna put the dress on. But he let her take it from him and then he just watched in a kinda shocked surprise as, relentlessly and deliberately, she destroyed the frock. She ripped at it, tore it into pieces and then flung it in his face. ‘Now will you get out!’ she mouthed at him.

  ‘Let’s get going, Dane,’ I said gently.

  He made one last attempt. ‘Stella,’ he pleaded. ‘Do you realise what stopping here means? You know the kinda guy Burden is. He’s liable to come in here. You know the kinda guy he is. You wouldn’t be safe here.’

  There was a hint of perplexity in her contemptuous eyes. She looked at me, shrugged her shoulders and then looked back at Dane. ‘Are you quite blind?’ she asked brutally. ‘Are you quite so blind?’

  Dane gaped at her. He just didn’t understand.

  ‘Use your head,’ she said savagely. ‘Look around. Take the blinkers off.’

  Dane looked around blankly, uncomprehending. He saw the hair
brushes on the dressing table, the shoe-trees underneath the wardrobe, the suits hanging in the wardrobe, and finally he got it.

  ‘By God, Stella!’ he said in a voice that was cracked by dreadful realisation. ‘This is his bedroom!’

  ‘What a smart boy you turned out to be,’ she sneered. Then she glared at him again. ‘Now get to hell out of here, will ya? You’re driving me crazy.’

  You’d have thought that would be enough for Dane. But it wasn’t. I don’t know even now if it was sheer blind anger, jealousy or possessiveness that prompted him. But he moved in on her quickly, and there was desperate determination in his manner.

  ‘You’re coming out of here if I have to knock you cold first,’ he gritted.

  He pulled her half out of the bed before she bit his wrist. He slapped her face hard, and while she was still suffering from the shock of it he picked her up in his arms. She fought him, twisted away from him, kneed him savagely in the groin and tore his face with long fingernails. He kicked her legs from beneath her so she went down on her knees, and as she scrambled away from him across the room, he seized her thick hair, dragging her backwards, so that her body arched and she screamed aloud with the pain of it.

  She made a nice study, bent back that way – firm, feminine curves and subtle hollows displayed to their best advantage

  But this wasn’t the time to take out a season ticket for the art gallery. Dane just didn’t know what he was doing. And this kinda situation could lead anywhere. Especially if Burden came back.

  I hated to do it, but Dane was my friend. I had no choice. His profile was in the right position as I stepped in close and swung hard. It was a swift, neat uppercut and Dane didn’t even know it was on its way

  His head snapped back on his shoulders, his jaw sagged and his knees buckled beneath him. I caught him beneath the armpits before his head hit the ground. I began to hoist him up again into a standing position. Stella was almost crying with vexation and annoyance. She went for Dane like he was still conscious, tried to kick him hard where it would hurt most.

  I held Dane with one arm, reached out and shoved her away hard, the butt of my hand against her chin.

  She flailed backwards until the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed.

  Then she sprawled out like a jellyfish in the sun. She pushed herself up on her elbows, glared at me angrily and moved her jaws as though trying to make sure they would still work.

  ‘I’m not Burden,’ I told her bitterly. ‘The show’s wasted on me.’

  She scowled, pulled the coverlet carelessly around her.

  ‘Get that dope outta here, will ya?’ she snarled. ‘He’s had that coming to him all evening.’

  Dane was a broad-shouldered guy, pretty weighty. I got him over my shoulder, hoisted him off the ground.

  ‘He asked for it and he got it,’ I told her. ‘You’ve been asking for it and you’re gonna get it,’ I warned. ‘I guess Burden won’t be long now. Then it’ll be your turn.’

  She sat there, snarling and spitting at me like a cat. I staggered across to the door, opened it and shut it carefully behind me. I found my way cautiously down the stairs and tripped over a guy lying at the bottom. He was the guy I’d socked. He was still out wide.

  I got to the front door just as Burden was coming in.

  ‘What’s Dane been up to?’ he demanded.

  ‘Too much drink,’ I said.

  He chuckled. ‘Never did like guys who couldn’t hold it,’ he said.

  I hated that guy. I hated the way he talked, the way he swaggered, the way he grinned. I wanted to drop Dane so I could take a poke at Burden instead. But my main job was to get Dane away from that house as quickly as possible.

  ‘I’ll be seeing you, fella,’ said Burden.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said grimly. ‘I’ll be seeing you.’ I looked him over in the kinda way that tells a guy you don’t like him.

  He sensed how I felt towards him. His hands clenched at his sides and his lips parted, showing his teeth. ‘Anything on ya mind, fella?’ His voice was aggressive, the stack of chips on his shoulder was a mile high.

  ‘I’ll be seeing you again,’ I said. ‘Besides, I can’t detain you now. You’ve got company.’ I jerked my thumb up the stairs.

  He stood in the doorway watching me as I carried Dane across to my car. I couldn’t see him but I could sense his eyes boring into my back.

  I opened the door, wedged Dane in the back seat, and he stirred and moaned.

  I wanted to get Dane so far away from there he wouldn’t try going back.

  I went around and climbed into the driving seat. A slight figure emerged out of the shadows, opened the door opposite me, and climbed in beside me. A hand reached out and clutched my arm.

  ‘Hello,’ she said.

  ‘It’s you again,’ I grunted.

  ‘You wanted me to wait, didn’t you?’ she said. ‘You’re taking me home?’

  ‘That’s right,’ I said. I jerked my head towards the back seat. ‘We’ve got company. He slipped up and banged his chin.’

  By this time I’d got the car going down the winding drive to the main drag.

  ‘Is he hurt bad?’

  ‘Not bad,’ I said. ‘He’s just out for a while.’

  ‘The poor dear,’ she said. ‘I’ll see what I can do for him.’

  Before I could stop her, she’d scrambled over the seat into the back. After that I could hear her slapping his wrists and talking baby-talk to him. As if that would help to bring him round!

  I’d got maybe half a mile back towards Chicago when Dane recovered consciousness and got some idea of what was happening. He wrapped his fingers around my throat, squeezed so tightly I began to suffocate, and told me in a mean voice to stop.

  I had to stop anyway. No guy can drive while he’s being strangled.

  And when I’d pulled in to the side of the road and jammed on my brakes I started wrestling to get his fingers away from my throat.

  He let go abruptly. ‘I only wanted to make you stop,’ he said.

  I caressed my neck tenderly. ‘You could have asked,’ I said.

  ‘It’s no good asking you to take me back?’ he asked, in a voice that was strangely empty.

  I turned around in my seat. ‘Be a man, Dane,’ I pleaded. ‘There’s nothing you can do about it. She wants it just the way it is. You can go back if you like. You can half kill Burden. Or he’ll half kill you. But it won’t alter anything. She wants it just the way it is. Tonight or some other night. Why don’t you get it through your thick head that you don’t mean a thing to her?’

  He sat there in a strained silence. And even in the semi-darkness I could see how white his face was. There was a quiver in his voice when he said: ‘I guess you’re right at that, Hank. I guess there’s nothing I can do.’

  ‘I’ll take you home,’ I said gently ‘You’re all tied up inside now. It’ll look different in the morning.’

  He didn’t answer. Instead he buried his face in his hands. He made a strange, soft kinda noise that coulda been a sob. Lulu said in a soft, sympathetic, understanding voice: ‘Let’s get him home, Hank. He’ll be all right in the morning.’

  A mile further along the road there were a coupla folk walking. I’d had trouble enough and I wasn’t running a taxi service. I wouldn’t have picked them up except that, as I passed, my headlights showed it was Dorothy Burden and Charles Skinner who were walking.

  I jammed on my brakes and they came running up.

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ said Dorothy. ‘You don’t mind giving us a lift, do you?’

  Charles Skinner hoisted himself in the back with Lulu and Dane, and Dorothy sat beside me.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ I asked.

  ‘Wretched,’ she said miserably. ‘First he humiliated me and then he’d have killed Charles if the others hadn’t stopped him.’

  ‘Something will happen to that guy,’ I prophesied. ‘Someday somebody’s gonna hire a t
hug to beat him up.’

  She shivered. ‘That’s been tried,’ she confessed ‘The thug got the worst of it. He’s so terribly strong.’

  Charles leaned forward and said in his weak, ineffectual voice: ‘I’ll make him suffer for that! His deliberate humiliation of us. I can’t let him get away with it!’

  ‘Forget it,’ I said. ‘There’s a lotta guys waiting to take care of him. Just give one of them time.’

  I was thinking how perhaps that guy might be me. I was thinking how perhaps I might bump into Hugh Burden some time, take that sock at him I was burning to give right now. It was a pleasant, warming thought as I drove along.

  But the warming thought was driven away and replaced by a sudden cold dread feeling.

  Dane lifted his head from his hands, leaned forward across the driving seat and asked in a hard, cold voice:

  ‘Do you happen to have a gun?’

  5

  I pulled up outside a pleasant apartment block and Dorothy nudged my side meaningfully.

  ‘Do come up for a moment, Mr Janson,’ she said. ‘Just look around. It won’t take a moment.’

  Charles Skinner got out of the car, too. All three of us walked to Dorothy’s apartment. It was on the ground floor, overlooking the High Road. She opened the door with her key, switched on the light inside and beckoned us in.

  ‘I’m worried,’ she confessed. ‘What did he have in mind when he asked about the gun?’

  ‘Aw, don’t take any notice of him,’ I drawled. ‘He’s not himself tonight.’

  ‘It’s nothing to do with – Hugh?’

  ‘Just a little trouble,’ I said awkwardly. ‘But he’s been drinking too much. Don’t take any notice of what he says.’

  Charles Skinner said slowly: ‘I can understand how he feels. I feel that way myself. Maybe, if I had a gun, I’d –’

  ‘Don’t be so melodramatic, Charles,’ said Dorothy softly. She looked at him with gentle, loving eyes.

  ‘A fella can stand just so much,’ said Charles. ‘But there’s a breaking point, and –’