The Duchess of Skid Row Read Online Free PDF Page A

Calumet’s, feed a dime into a machine, and watch a movie of some dame strip raw.”
    He grunted, and I went on. “Let’s talk about Hoxey Creen.”
    His voice was even quicker this time. “What about Hoxey Creen?”
    “I hear he works for Calumet now,” I said. “But he still lives with Teddy Jenner.”
    Arch moved toward me. “You’ve got dysentary of the mouth, McKeon. Hoxey doesn’t live with Teddy. He lives in the same building she does. There’s a difference.”
    I realized that I was looking at a man who had fallen in love. I should have laughed—Arch and Teddy Jenner! Only I didn’t have time to laugh. I had to get out to Johnny Itsuko’s by six-thirty. I had the feeling that fighting Arch would take me an hour or two.
    If I lasted that long.
    “You make friends fast, Arch.” I started backing toward the stairs. “Which one are you defending, Hoxey or Teddy?”
    I figured that I had him angry enough to say something worth my hearing. I was wrong. He didn’t waste breath on talking. He just came across the basement after me.
    I reached the steps and started climbing. I kept moving until I was outside.
    I headed my car southeast toward the new suburb where Johnny Itsuko lived with his wife Kay and Johnny Junior. I followed Southeast Boulevard and made good time through the thin night traffic.
    I drove with one eye on the rear vision mirror. I couldn’t spot anyone following me. The November night was cloudy and dark with a light, raw wind whipping off the Sound.
    I turned off the Boulevard and dropped down a hill into the new suburb. It had recently been an area of small chicken ranches and subsistence farms. Some of the old outbuildings were still standing on several of the properties. Johnny Itsuko’s tool shed was one of these. It faced a narrow graveled road that the real estate developers had turned into a service alley. It was too small for Johnny to make into a garage, so he had built a carport alongside. He used the toolshed for a workshop and as a refuge from Kay’s favorite TV programs.
    I saw how smart Johnny was in having me meet him there. The alley was lined with old firs. Even in clear weather there was little light after dark. It was about as safe a rendezvous as he could have picked.
    But I played it safe. I parked on a sidestreet, a half block from the alley mouth. I lit a cigaret and smoked it through while I waited. Nobody came.
    I left the sedan. I walked to the alley and down it. The farther into the alley I went, the thicker the darkness got. I reached Johnny’s toolshed before my eyes began to adjust to the gloom.
    I could see the tail end of his small car sticking out from the carport. There was no sign of life in the toolshed. The one grimy window was black. Light from Johnny’s house was filtered by fifty feet of yard and two tall, old cottonwood trees.
    I squinted at my watch. Six-thirty-five. I lifted the latch on the door and went in.
    The room was about ten feet square. It had a dirt floor. The smell of dust hung in the air. I shut the door and darkness closed in heavier than that outside.
    Something stirred to my left. I said, “Johnny?”
    The sound came again. The dusty smell grew stronger, as if someone had pitched a handful of dirt toward me. I fumbled out my cigaret lighter and snapped it down. The tiny flame danced in an almost imperceptible draft. I saw the lightswitch. I reached for it.
    A burst of redness like a rocket exploding burned my eyes. I thought at first the light bulb had exploded. Then I smelled the dirt and I felt the throbbing pain radiating from the back of my head. The red flash had been behind my eyeballs, not in front of them.
    Someone had clubbed me down from behind.
    I heard a car motor gun up. I listened to Johnny’s car moving fast out of the carport and into the alley. The sound began to fade. I lifted my head. My mouth was full of dirt. I spat it out and pushed myself to my knees.
    I located the workbench with one groping hand. I