She Woke to Darkness

by Brett Halliday

  “I was drunk,” Aline went on candidly. “I vaguely remember all sorts of things. Like our fight, but I haven’t the foggiest idea how it began… or ended.”

  “Then I shan’t disillusion you,” Ralph told her heartily. He was making like a big brother now. “It really wasn’t important and you’re better off not remembering too much. What else comes through?” he ended with a sharpened note in his voice.

  “There was some man,” Aline faltered. “Someone I’d never seen before.”

  “There was, indeed. A Mr. Torn, wasn’t it? Didn’t I hear him being introduced as Vincent Torn?”

  “I don’t know. Describe him.”

  Ralph chuckled. “After all, my dear Aline, who should be better able to describe him than you?”

  “But I tell you there are gaps.”

  Ralph shrugged his broad shoulders. “He wasn’t the type who lends himself to description. Mediocre, that’s it. Nondescript. What you can see in a fellow like that…” He shook his head sadly over the vagaries of women.

  “Did I leave the party with him?” Aline asked fearfully.

  “I’m not sure, but I’m positive you did if you were able to drag him away.” Ralph put two fingers under Doris’ chin and lifted her face. “Did you see Aline leave, sweet?”

  “I thought she went with you.” Doris’ voice was husky. She cleared her throat and added, “You both disappeared about the same time.”

  “But you can’t be positive?” Aline asked her.

  “No, but I asked two or three people and they told me not to worry about you… that Ralph could be trusted to take good care of you,” Doris gave a short, harsh laugh.

  Ralph smiled indulgently. “Which I could be, of course, if I had escorted you home, Aline. But I left the party alone, while you were still there. You can ask Bart,” he went on swiftly. “He argued about my leaving so early. I couldn’t tell him that you and I,” he gave Doris a squeeze, “had plans for later on.”

  “But we didn’t,” Doris protested. She sat erect, and her eyes were round and guileless. “I was never so surprised in my life when you turned up on my doorstep.”

  “As if you hadn’t known I was coming… and arrayed yourself in your most beguiling negligee. And I loved you for it.” He bent his head and kissed Doris tenderly on the lips. Her arms went around his neck.

  Aline stood up. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds now,” she said in a thin voice. “Sorry I interrupted, but I did want to get a line on last evening.”

  “Oh, no.” Ralph hastily released Doris and came to his feet. “It’s almost daylight. I have to consider Doris’ reputation and not stay too late. My car’s parked just outside. I’ll run you home.”

  “You needn’t bother,” Aline said stiffly, turning to the door. “I can walk.”

  “No bother at all. I’m sure Doris wishes we’d both go and let her get her beauty sleep.”

  He was directly behind Aline as she stepped out, and for a brief moment she felt a chill sense of fear course up her spine. It was silly, of course. She knew it was silly. But she wished desperately that Doris would call him back.

  Ralph closed the door firmly and took Aline’s arm to help her up the stairs, muttering in a low voice, “Thank God for small favors. I thought I was never going to be able to break away from that empty-headed little fool.”

  “A fine thing to say about a girl,” Aline retorted. “Particularly after you’ve just spent the night with her.”

  “Exactly the time one would say it about Doris,” he told her cheerfully. They reached the street level and he led her toward his parked convertible.

  “What did you say about me after that last time?”

  “The truth, of course. Not all the truth,” he amended hastily, opening the door for Aline. “No one in the world knows anything about that night except that you passed out and I took you home and tucked you in.” He patted her hand, closed the door, and went round to the other side to slide under the wheel.

  As Aline settled back against the cushion she felt something hard against her right hip. Twisting around slightly, she put her hand down to discover a small leather handbag wedged between the seat cushion and the back.

  It had a familiar shape and feel as she drew it half way out. Covertly she glanced down at it in the light from a street lamp and shuddered. It was her own alligator bag. The one she had carried to Bart’s last night. The one that had been missing from the hotel room. The one she had searched for so zealously.

  Ralph had turned on the ignition. He was pressing the starter button, his eyes on the road. The motor whirred and took life.

  “How did my handbag get here, Ralph?” Aline scarcely recognized her own fear-distorted voice. “In your car… slipped down behind the cushion.”

  “May have been there for days,” he said genially, rolling forward on the empty street. “Let’s see. I drove you home from the office last Wednesday.”

  “This is the bag I had at Bart’s party tonight,” she told him in a flat voice.

  “Oh?” He hesitated, glancing aside at her tight face and wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Then you were blacked out, weren’t you? I wondered. It’s so hard to tell with you. Don’t you remember anything at all about my taking you home?”

  “But you told Doris you left alone. That I was still there when you left.”

  “Pride, my dear. I didn’t want to confess to her that you kicked me out after we got to your place. She’d have felt she was second choice. Which she was, of course. You must have left your bag when you got out, and I didn’t notice it.”

  “Ralph! You’ve got to tell me. What did happen. Did you drive me home?”

  “Right to your doorstep,” he assured her cheerfully. “You were sweet enough in the car, but you turned nasty as hell when I suggested coming up. I didn’t know just how tight you were,” he went on thoughtfully. “That other time you blacked out you were glad enough to have my company. So, I thought you knew what you were doing and wanted to be alone as you said. I don’t like street scenes, damn it. And I knew Doris would be receptive.”

  “And you left me standing outside?” Aline asked in a shaky voice.

  “You were going up the steps to the door when I drove away.”

  “Without my handbag?” She shuddered. “And without my keys? I couldn’t have got in the front door. What did I do? My God, Ralph, what do you suppose I did?”

  Ralph had been driving east on 26th. Now, he turned north and pulled to the curb in front of the canopied entrance to a six-story apartment building. “You went back to the party, maybe… or called someone up,” he suggested. “Where were you when you came to this time?”

  “I’m not going to tell you,” she said defiantly.

  “No reason why you should,” he agreed. He cut his motor and leaned past her to open the door on her side. “Be sure you’ve got your key this time. I’ll sit right here until you go inside.”

  “Please, Ralph.” Aline put a trembling hand on his arm. “Come up with me. I’m frightened. I’ve got to talk. Try to figure out what happened. Don’t you see that without my bag I didn’t have taxi fare? Not even a dime to telephone with. I was locked out here on the street, and then what?”

  “You poor kid.” Ralph lifted her hand from his arm and kissed it. “Of course I’ll come up with you. Might as well make a night of it now.” He slid along the cushion and got out on her side of the car, went up the short flight of stone steps with her, and through swinging doors to an entry-way lined with mail boxes.

  Aline took a leather key-holder from her purse. Beside the lock on the inner door there was a bell with a brass plate beneath it that read SUPERINTENDENT.

  Ralph gestured to it and said, “Perhaps you rang the super and he let you in last night. That would be the normal thing. It wasn’t terribly late”

  “How late?” She put a key in the lock and turned it, opened the door onto a small, attractive lobby with two self-service elevators at the rear.


  “About midnight,” Ralph told her on the way to the elevators. One was waiting and he opened the door and followed her in. Aline pressed the button for the fourth floor and it began to rise easily. She stood silent, waiting for him to go on.

  “I stopped at a bar for a couple of drinks after leaving you,” Ralph continued, “to give Doris time to break away from the party and get home. I got to her place about twelve-thirty. So it couldn’t have been past midnight when I left you.”

  The elevator stopped and they went down a short length of carpeted hallway to a door which she unlocked. She went in ahead of him to turn on a light in the living room, took a quick look about and shook her head despairingly.

  “I don’t believe I was back here after the party at all. It’s exactly the way I remember leaving it.” She went toward the small dressing alcove off the bathroom, saying, “I know I look like the wrath of God. Make yourself a drink while I fix my face a little and comb my hair.” She went in and closed the door.

  Ralph went to the low, glass-topped bar in front of the studio couch, opened it and took out a flagon of rye and a large shot glass. He filled it and settled back on the couch, his face bland and uncommunicative as he waited for Aline to return.

  It took her ten minutes. Her features were still tight and ravaged, but rouge and powder and a hairbrush had done much to improve her appearance. She sat down beside him, shook her head and shuddered when he lifted his glass and gestured toward its mate with the dregs of a drink she had left before leaving for Bart’s party.

  “Not for me,” she said flatly. “Never again. I swear it. What do you think could have happened after you left me here without a key?”

  “I still think the normal thing would have been for you to ring the superintendent.” He glanced at the speaking tube near the door. “Why not call him and find out, if it’ll set your mind at rest?”

  “And wake him up at this time to ask him that?” she protested. “He’d think I’d lost my mind. Besides, if I did come up, I didn’t stay.”

  “I gather,” said Ralph drily, “that you didn’t stay. However, it would be a starting point if you’re determined to backtrack. Up here, you could have telephoned anyone you liked without dimes. Go ahead and buzz him on the speaking tube. What are janitors for?”

  “I’d be ashamed to ask him. If he didn’t think I was crazy, then he’d know I was too drunk to know what I did.”

  “All right, then,” said Ralph amiably, “I’ll buzz him, and talk to him on the speaking tube.” He hesitated a moment, then added reflectively. “Better still, to save you embarrassment, I’ll telephone him, and let him think it’s an outside call. I’ll say I’m a friend who knows you came home about midnight without a key and am worried. I’ll ask if he let you in, and that won’t give anything away. Know his number?”

  “No. But it’s listed under ‘Superintendent’ in the black book there on the telephone stand.” She started to get up, but Ralph caught her arm.

  “You just sit here nice and comfy. I’ll find it.” He went to the telephone and flipped the pages of her private listing, dialed the number and waited.

  The phone rang a long time before a sleepy voice demanded: “Yeh? Who you calling?”

  “Are you the superintendent at the Maidstone?”

  “Yeh. What you want?”

  “I’m a friend of Miss Aline Ferris in Apartment 4-F. We’ve just discovered that she left her handbag with her keys here when she went home about midnight, and we’re a little worried. Her phone doesn’t answer. Did she ring you about midnight to let her in?”

  “No. Haven’t see Miss Ferris for days.” He slammed the receiver down hard.

  Ralph replaced his receiver and turned to Aline. “That’s not the answer. Let’s see, now.” He crossed over and sat down beside her and stretched his long legs out comfortably. “There you were about midnight on your own doorstep and operating under your own power, but actually passed out mentally. You had no key and no money to telephone. I had driven away thinking you were safely inside. What happened then?”

  “Oh, I don’t know… I don’t know,” Aline cried out. “But I’ve just got to find out.”

  “U-m-m. It would be lots easier to figure out if I knew where you were when you finally came to. Didn’t you ask anyone how you got there?”

  “There wasn’t anyone to ask,” she told him. “I was alone. It doesn’t matter exactly where. In a hotel room, if that helps any. But how did I get there?” Her voice was shrill, close to hysteria.

  “Take it easy,” Ralph said calmly. “There are dozens of possible explanations. Let’s reason it out together. From the way you acted last time, I know you’re outwardly rational when you’re passed out, but… less inhibited than when you’re sober, let us say. The real you takes charge of your body. You remain perfectly logical and self-possessed. Now: What would you have done under those same circumstances if you had been sober?”

  “I… don’t know. Get the superintendent to let me in, probably.”

  “But we know you didn’t do that. And I’m not sure you would have tried. Remember your aversion to waking him just a few minutes ago? You were ashamed to let him know you were so drunk you didn’t remember. In your condition at midnight some part of your mind realized that you were damned tight, and you didn’t want him to see you like that. So, what?”

  Aline’s face brightened and she caught Ralph’s wrist in a tight grasp. “I know! The cocktail lounge just down the street. It stays open until four, and I often drop in for a drink after work. The night bartender knows me, and I wouldn’t have minded at all going in and telling him I’d mislaid my bag and needed a dime for the telephone. I’ve left enough in tips, goodness knows. He wouldn’t think anything of it. I must have gone there.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” Ralph agreed. He smiled genially and put a big hand over hers.

  “But whom did I call… if I did telephone?”

  “First thing to find out is whether you made any call at all. It’s possible he might have seen you dialing… or helped you look up a number. He’d remember an incident like that.” Ralph swung to his feet and glanced at his watch. “It’s not quite four. What’s the name of the joint?”

  “Gosh, I… I don’t know. I’ve been in dozens of times, but I guess I just never noticed.”

  “We can go down and ask him, if you really want to try and clear this up.”

  “You go, Ralph,” she said impulsively. “Please. His name is Joe. Just ask him if Miss Ferris was in to use the telephone. Please, Ralph. I just don’t feel up to it.”

  “Sure. You must be shot. Why don’t you slip into something more comfortable, and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  She said, “You’re sweet,” and was suddenly listless. She stood up and let him kiss her, then drew away when he tried to become more ardent. “Ring my bell and I’ll let you in.”

  “Not jealous of Doris, are you?” he asked, smiling.

  “No. I don’t think so. I’m just not at my best tonight.” She watched him go out, then sank down on the couch and buried her throbbing head in her hands.

  “Dear God,” she moaned softly, “let me get out of this. Just this one time, please help me. I’ve learned my lesson tonight. I swear I have. I’ll never, never, take another drink as long as I live.”

  Once more, tears of self-pity wet her face. She was stretched out on the couch, still sobbing, fifteen minutes later when her buzzer sounded. She dragged herself up and pressed the button that released the catch on the door to the building downstairs.

  She was standing in the open doorway of her apartment, dabbing at reddened eyes with a cool, damp washcloth, when Ralph stepped from the elevator. He frowned unhappily when he saw that she had not changed into a negligee in his absence, but nodded as he approached, saying, “We hit it on the head, darling. I caught Joe just as he was closing the joint, and he said that’s exactly what you did.”

  Aline stepped back to let him enter, her breathing tremulous and irregu
lar. “Then I did go there to telephone?”

  “That’s right. Joe remembered right away. Said you sort of acted strange when you came in just after midnight. Said you walked straight enough, but your eyes had a glassy look he’d seen often enough when people were passed out.” Ralph took her hand and led her to the couch where they sat down and he linked his arm in hers as he continued:

  “Joe said you walked right up to him and told him you had lost your purse and needed a dime to telephone. He didn’t care about the dime, but he was a little worried. Thought you ought to go home in your condition, and told you so. But you blazed away at him and said you could take care of yourself, and what you needed was a man. You told him to give you the dime and stop his yapping.” He paused, squeezed her arm, and looked down at her for approval.

  Aline’s face was pale and her voice was sick with shame as she breathed, “How awful! I’ll never be able to look him in the face again. I can’t believe I’d say such things.” She drew her arm from his and leaned away from him.

  Ralph poured himself another drink, crossed his legs, and settled back against the cushions. “You toss off a lot of inhibitions when you get that way, my sweet. Like the other time with me. God, if you could just remember…”

  “Don’t… please,” Aline pleaded, her cheeks scarlet. “Maybe I’m just a two-dollar whore at heart, but don’t rub it in. Tell me what else Joe said.”

  “Well, he gave you the dime and you went to the telephone book and looked up a number. When you found it, you asked him if he had a pencil and would he write it down for you. You know, the phone booth is across the room and I guess you were afraid you’d forget it before you could dial it.”

  “Did he write it down?” She asked fearfully.

  “Yes. On one of the business cards advertising the place. You called it out to him, went over and took the card, then went back to the booth and closed the door.”

  Aline nerved herself to ask, “Does Joe remember the number?”

  “No. He thought it was a Butterfield number, but wasn’t positive. He says you stayed in the booth awhile, then came out and marched out without saying a word or even looking at him. And that’s all Joe knows.”