Nothing More than Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

suddenly. “Grace and me were talking last night, and we was wondering if you couldn’t put her on selling tickets. She could sit down that way, and people wouldn’t see that she was—couldn’t see much of her. And—”
    “I’d like to have Grace,” I said. “But you know how I’m tied up. I just about have to use women from the Legion auxiliary. If it wasn’t for that I’d jump at the chance to take Grace.”
    “We got to have a little more money, Mr. Wilmot. If you could use the boys some on the door, or taking care of the—”
    “I’ve got to spread that work around for the high school team. I’m doing all I can for you, Jimmie,” I said.
    “Well,” he said. And he hesitated again. “I got to have some more money.”
    “There’s no way I can give it to you,” I pointed out. “You’re classified as a relief operator. The union only allows me to work you twenty-four hours a week.”
    “You mean that’s what you pay me for,” he snapped. “I’m actually workin’ about sixty!”
    “That’s all I can pay you for,” I said. And it was true. The unions really keep an eye on social security records. “If you don’t want the job perhaps you’d better quit.”
    “Yeah?” he grunted. “Where the hell would I get another one?”
    “As a projectionist?”
    “That’s my line. It’s the only thing I’ve ever done.”
    “Well, that makes it tough,” I said. “If you had a couple grand for transfer and initiation fees, you might get into another local. But the chances are all against it.”
    He gave me a sore look, started to say something, then turned back to the machines. I went back downstairs and outside.
    I was standing out near the curb, just lighting a cigarette, when a big black roadster pulled up and Mike Blair got out. He was the last man in the world I wanted to see. He’s a business agent for the projectionists’ union, and I’d seen more than enough of him six years before when this town was in his territory.
    We shook hands, neither of us putting much pressure into it, and I asked him where he was headed. He pushed his hat back on his head, taking his time about answering and giving me a mean grin.
    He took the cigar out of his mouth, looked at it, and put it back in again.
    “I’m already there, Joe. This town’s back in my district.”
    “Yeah?” I said. “I mean—it is?”
    “Nice, huh?” He waggled the cigar in the corner of his mouth. “In fact, it’s been back in my district for three days. I was over here last night, looking the old burg over, and the night before.”
    “Well,” I said, “it’s funny I didn’t see you.”
    “It’d been a hell of a lot funnier if you had. Don’t kid me, Joe. I like you in a nasty sort of way, but I don’t like to be kidded. You were out of town.”
    “I couldn’t help it. I—”
    “I don’t give a damn about that. You remember what I told you at the time I left here? What I told you a dozen other times?”
    “Well—”
    “I’ll tell you again for the last time. You’re an indie. You can run your own projectors and use a card man for reliefs, and we’ll carry you on the fair list. You do that or else. You do it or put two men in the booth. Full time.”
    “Now, look, Blair,” I said, “let’s be reasonable about this. You—”
    “We ain’t got time to reason, Joe. Jimmie Nedry’s already run over his twenty-four hours.”
    “But how can I run the projectors and the house, too? Just show me how, Blair, and I’ll—”
    “Maybe you can’t. I’ll send you down another operator, and you keep out of the booth. How’s that?”
    He knew how it was without asking. Two full-time operators would cost me a hundred and eighty bucks a week.
    “Look,” I said. “Where did you get that two men to the booth and ninety-dollar scale to begin with? I’ll tell you. Panzpalace framed it for you to freeze out city competition. They could carry four men at a hundred and fifty if they had to, but the indies