Shoot the Piano Player Read Online Free PDF Page B

giving her two quarters, two dimes and a nickel.
"It goes for a meal," Lena explained further, putting the coins into her purse. "I figured Harriet would cook me something, but she went to bed early, and I didn't want to bother her."
"Yeah, I saw her going upstairs," Eddie said. He paused a moment. "I guess she was tired."
"Well, she works hard," Lena said. She took a final puff at the cigarette and tossed it into a cuspidor. "I wonder how she does it. All that weight. I bet she's over two hundred."
"Way over," Eddie said. "But she carries it nice. It's packed in solid."
"Too much of it. She loses a little, she'll feel better."
"She feels all right."
Lena shrugged. She didn't say anything.
Eddie opened the door and stepped aside. She went out, and he followed her. She started across the pavement and he said, "See you tomorrow," and she stopped and turned and faced him. She said, "I think six bits is more than I need. A half is enough," and started to open her purse.
He said, "No, that's all right." But she came toward him, extending the quarter, saying, "At John's I can get a platter for forty. Another dime for coffee and that does it."
He waved away the silver quarter. He said, "You might want a piece of cake or something."
She came closer. "Go on, take it," pushing the coin toward him.
He grinned. "High finance."
"Will you please take it?"
"Who needs it? I won't starve."
"You sure you can spare it?" Her head was slanted, her eyes searching his face.
He went on grinning. "Quit worrying. I won't run short."
"Yeah, I know." She went on searching his face. "Your wallet gets low, you just pick up the phone and call your broker. Who's your broker?"
"It's a big firm on Wall Street. I fly to New York twice a week. Just to have a look at the board'
"When'd you eat last?"
He shrugged. "I had a sandwich--"
"When?"
"I don't know. Around four-thirty, maybe."
"Nothing in between?" And then, not waiting for an answer, "Come on, walk me to John's. You'll have something."
"But--"
"Come on, will you?" She took his arm and pulled him along. "You wanna live, you gotta eat."
It occurred to him that he was really hungry and he could use a bowl of soup and a hot platter. The wet-cold wind was getting through his thin coat and biting into him. The thought of hot food was pleasant. Then another thought came and he winced slightly, He had exactly twelve cents in his pocket.
He shrugged and went on walking with Lena. He decided to settle for a cup of coffee. At least the coffee would warm him up. But you really oughtta have something to eat, he told himself. How come you didn't eat tonight? You always grab a bite at the food counter at the Hut around twelve-thirty. But not tonight. You had nothing tonight. How come you forgot to fill your belly?
Then he rementbered. That business with Turley, he told himself. You were busy with Turley and you forgot to eat.
I wonder if Turley made it or not. I wonder if he got away. He knows how to move around and he can take care of himself. Yes, I'd say the chances are he made it. You really think so? He was handicapped, you know. It's a cinch he wasn't in condition to play hare-and-hounds with him the hare. Well, what are you gonna do? You can't do anything. I wish you'd drop it.
And another thing. What is it with this one here, this waitress? What bothers her? You know there's something bothering her. You caught the slightest hint of it when she talked about Harriet. She was sorta fishing then, she had the line out. Well sure, that's what it is. She's worried about Harriet and the bouncer and their domestic difficulties, because the bouncer's got his eyes on someone else these days--this waitress here. Well, it ain't her fault. Only thing she offers Plyne is an ice-cold look whenever he tries to move in. So let him keep trying. What do you care? Say, you wanrta do me a favor? Get outta my hair, you're buggingme.
But just then a queer idea came into his brain, a downright silly notion. He couldn't understand why it