The policeman looked down at the platform boss.
"Call an ambulance," he said quickly. "Somebody help me get this thing off him."
David turned and went up in the freight elevator.
He heard the clanging of the ambulance while he was in the bathroom, washing up.
The door behind him opened and he turned around.
The Sheriff was standing there, a towel in his hand.
"I thought you could use this."
"Thanks." David took the towel and soaked it in hot water, then held it to his face.
The heat felt soothing. He closed his eyes.
The sound of the ambulance grew fainter.
"You all right?" the old man asked.
"I'm O.K.," David answered.
He heard the old man's footsteps. The door closed behind him and David took the towel from his face. He stared at himself in the mirror.
Except for a slight lump on his temple, he looked all right.
He rinsed his face with cold water and dried it. Leaving the towel hanging over the edge of the sink, he walked out.
A girl was standing near the staircase, wearing the blue smock with Henri France lettered on the pocket.
He stopped and looked at her. She looked vaguely familiar. She must have been one of the girls he had seen downstairs.
She smiled at him boldly, revealing not too pretty teeth.
"Is it true you're old man Norman's nephew?"
He nodded.
"Freddie Jones, who runs your still lab, says I ought to be in pictures. He had me pose for him."
"Yeah?"
"I got them here," she said.
"Want to see 'em?"
"Sure."
She smiled and took some photographs out of her pocket.
He took the pictures and looked at them.
This Freddie, whoever he was, knew how to take pictures.
She looked much better without a smile. And without her clothes.
"Like 'em?"
"Yeah."
"You can keep 'em," she said.
"Thanks."
"If you get a chance, show 'em to your uncle sometime," she said quickly. "Lots of girls get started in pictures that way." He nodded. "I seen what happened downstairs.
It was sure time that Tony got his lumps."
"You didn't like him?"
"Nobody liked him," she said. "But they were all afraid of him.
The cop asked me what happened. I told him it was an accident. The jack fell on him."
He looked into her eyes. They were hard and shining.
"You're nice," she said. "I like you."
She took something out of her pocket and gave it to him. It looked like a small tin of aspirin but the lettering read: Henri France De Luxe.
"You don't have to worry about those," she said. "They're the best we make. You can read a newspaper through 'em.
I inspected and rolled them myself."
"Thanks."
"Got to get back to work," she said.
She walked back to the stairway. "See yuh."
"See yuh."
He looked down at the small tin in his hand and opened it.
She was right. You could read right through them.
There was a slip of paper in the bottom. Written on it in black pencil was the name Betty and a telephone number.