Lady, Here's Your Wreath Read Online Free PDF Page B

“I'd love to... where is it?”
     I jerked my head at a taxi. “It's a dollar ride downtown,” I said.
     The yellow taxi drew up and the driver swung the door open. He took one look at the girl and gave me a wink. “I'll drive nice an' slow, Capt.,” he said.
     These taxi guys were a big help sometimes. I helped her in. “Sloppy Joe's, Buddy,” I said, “an' just shut your window, will you?”
     “Sure, Capt.,” he said with a leer, “an' I won't look round. You go ahead an' enjoy yourself.”
     I got into the bus just a trifle flustered. I saw from a mischievous smile that she'd heard all right.
     “These guys've got low minds,” I said, settling down in the far corner. “Maybe we ought to know each other. I'm Nick Mason... I believe I've said that before.”
     She said, “I'm Mardi Jackson.”
     I said, “I'm glad to meet you,” and we laughed. I thought she'd got a swell name. I liked that. It suited her.
     “Well, Miss Jackson,” I said, offering her a cigarette, “you're Spencer's secretary... right?”
     She took the cigarette. “That's right,” she said. “Don't you write articles?”
     I lit her cigarette and mine. “That's how I keep the wolf from the door,” I said. “It's a grand way to earn a livin'. I could tell you stories that would do things to you.”
     “Well, perhaps one day you'll tell me.”
     That's the way it went. Tossing flowers at each other all the way. For the first time since I reached the age I sat in a taxi and didn't make a pass. Most dames are so dumb you had to get going or you'd die of boredom. Others think they've wasted their time if you don't, but this baby was just worth looking at and saving it for a big occasion.
     Sloppy Joe's was pretty full when we got there, but the Greek head waiter saw me and waved from the far end of the room. We went down the aisle between the tables. I got a big kick out of the way the men stopped eating to get a gander at Mardi. Even those guys with their own molls had a quick side look.
     The Greek was all over me. I'd given his eating-joint a good write-up every so often, and I fed on the house whenever I liked.
     He had a table all right. Mardi gave him an amused smile as he bowed himself in half. I could see she was making a big hit with the old guy, and somehow that pleased me, too.
     I saw him shoot me a quick look and I gave him a grin. “You're lookin' pretty good,” I said.
     When we were seated, the Greek produced the bill of fare, that was as long as my arm. I looked at Mardi. “How hungry are you?” I asked.
     She nodded. “Plenty.”
     “How about a mushroom canape, and a Swiss steak with what goes with it to follow?”
     “That sounds lovely.”
     “Okay, make that twice, Nic,” I said, “and make it fast.”
     She began stripping off her gloves. I kept my eyes on her fingers. No rings. I was surprised at my relief.
     “Now, Mr. Mason, suppose you tell me all about it.”
     I shook my head. “Don't rush it,” I said, “I gotta get used to you.”
     Again her eyebrows went up. “Don't you think,” she said quietly, “we'd better talk business? I'm due back in an hour.”
     Back came the Greek with the canape.
     After he had fussed around a bit and made sure we had nothing to beef about, he took himself off. It gave me a little time to use my brain. “I guess I'll put my cards on the table,” I said. I seemed to be wearing that phrase out. “Have you ever heard of a guy called Vessi?”
     I saw her give a little start. She looked up quickly. Her eyes were full of questions.
     “I see you have,” I cut in before she could say anything. “The guy who was executed the other night. Well, I'm interested in him and the story that is hanging to him. I was wondering if