I looked at my watch.
"Ten after twelve."
"Nobody, but nobody, can go shopping for mink coats after midnight."
"We're not going shopping. They're being sent up here."
She stared at me for a moment, then nodded.
"Oh, I see," she said. "That makes a difference?"
"Of course."
"Tell me. What makes you so big around here?"
"I pay my rent."
"You mean you keep this apartment all the time?"
"Of course," I said. "I never know when I might be in Chicago."
"When were you here last?"
I rubbed my cheek.
"About a year and a half ago."
The telephone rang. I picked it up, then held it out to Jennie.
A look of surprise came over her face. "For me?" she said.
"But nobody knows I'm here."
I went into the bathroom and closed the door.
When I came out, a few minutes later, she was sitting on the side of the bed, a dazed look on her face.
"It was the furrier," she said.
"He wanted to know which I preferred – light or dark mink.
Also, what size."
"What size did you tell him?"
"Ten."
I shook my head.
"I would have thought you took a twelve. Nobody ever buys a mink coat size ten. It hardly pays."
"Like I said, you're crazy," she said. Then she threw herself into my arms and hugged me. "But you're crazy nice."
I laughed aloud.
Mink will do it every time.
8.
The man from the detective agency arrived while we were eating supper.
His name was Sam Vitale and if he thought it was odd that Jennie was eating in a full, almost black mink coat, his weary, wise eyes evinced no surprise.
"It's cold in Chicago," Jennie explained.
"Yes, ma'am," he answered politely.
"Did you have any trouble finding him?" I asked.
"Not too much.
All we had to do was check the credit agencies. He left a trail of bad checks. It was just a matter of time.
When we narrowed it down to around Chicago, we checked Social Security.
They may change their names but they generally don't fool with their Social Security.
He's going under the name of Amos Jordan."
"Where is he working?" I asked curiously.
"In a Cicero garage, as a mechanic.
He makes enough to keep him in booze. He's hitting the bottle pretty hard."
"Where does he live?"
"In a rooming house, but he only goes there to sleep. He spends most of his spare time in a clip joint called La Paree.
You know the kind of joint. Continuous entertainment. There's always a stripper working on the stage, while the other girls take turns hustling the suckers for drinks."
Amos hadn't changed, I thought. He still went where the girls were.
I pushed back my coffee cup.
"O.K., let's go get him."
"I'm ready," Jennie said.