So Nude, So Dead Read Online Free PDF Page A

bastard, a louse—but he holds the key. In another time, Ray Stone would have crossed the street just to avoid the sight of Louie. But now, ah now, how the mighty hath fallen. Ray Stone, one-time piano player, all-around good mixer, and nice fellow. Now , maybe Louie would give him a break. Maybe scurvy Louie with his rotten teeth and his foul breath, maybe Louie out of the goodness of his kind heart would allow Ray Stone to shoot a deck of horse into his arm for the price of two bucks. Maybe.
    It was worth a try. He got up rapidly, walked out of the waiting room, stopped at one of the cigar stands, and changed a single. He walked past the knot of service men standing near the phone booths across from the cigar stand, and picked the booth farthest in. Rapidly, he dialed the number.
    It rang several times. He drummed his fingers against the metal of the booth, his knees jiggling nervously.
    “Yeah?”
    The voice almost surprised him. It was the familiar voice, the voice he hated, but the voice he’d come to know and need.
    “Louie?”
    “Yeah, who’s this?”
    “Ray.”
    “Who?”
    “Ray Stone.”
    “Say, what’s the idea calling me here?” Louie protested. “You anxious for trouble?”
    Ray felt every nerve in his body tense as he prepared to apologize. “I’m—I’m sorry, Louie. I had to call.” Crawl, Stone, he told himself. Crawl to the man with the key.
    “All right, all right, what is it?”
    Ray glanced through the glass door of the booth, uneasily eying the people outside.
    “I need a fix.”
    Louie was silent for several seconds. “Where you calling from, Stone?”
    “A booth in Grand—”
    “Call me back from a private phone. I can’t take—”
    “Louie, just a second. I can’t get to a private phone.”
    “All right, just make it fast. There’s a meet at Lenox and one-three-five. Got that? Lenox and—”
    “I’ve only got a deuce, Louie. Can you fix me for a deuce?”
    “You know the price of a deck, Stone.”
    “Just this time, Louie. I’m—I’m in a bad way.”
    “The monkey’s scratching, eh Stone? Too bad, but business is business. I can let you have only a cap for two bucks.”
    “Look, Louie, I’ll give you the deuce and my cuff links. How’s that? How’s that, Louie?” He was crawling on his belly now, right down on the ground, his nose pressed to Louie’s feet.
    “N.G., Stone. Hock the links. I got all the jewelry I need.”
    “Louie, have a heart. The shops are closed. This is Sunday!”
    “A cap for a deuce, Stone, and you’re getting a bargain. A deck is five, you know that.”
    “Give me a deck for the deuce, Louie. I’ll pay you tomorrow. As soon as I can get—”
    “Sure, sure, everybody’ll pay me tomorrow. Mañana never comes, Stone. A cap, take it or leave it.”
    Ray’s temper snapped then, and he was suddenly tired of kissing Louie’s backside. “Look, you little—”
    “So long, Stone.”
    “Louie—”
    There was a dull click, and Ray stared at the receiver, dazed.
    “He hung up,” Ray said aloud. “That lousy son of a bitch! He hung up!”
    Ray slammed the receiver down onto the hook, clenching his fist into a tight ball. He felt insane frustration boil up inside him, felt his reason flood from his body. He skinned back his lips, and his eyes blazed. Furiously, he smashed his fist against the side of the booth, feeling the metal bite into his knuckles. He drew the fist back quickly, and threw it at the metal again, blood spurting on his skinned knuckles. He sat breathing heavily for a few seconds, working his mouth noiselessly. Then he threw open the door and pushed his way past the people waiting to use the phone, brushing them aside with his wide shoulders. He was beginning to tremble again. And he was beginning to feel sick.
    It was going to get worse, a lot worse, a hell of a lot worse, unless he did something about it real soon. Again he wondered how he could have left himself so wide open. You’d think after all these months