“In a pickle of sorts. You know Mr. Pittleman advanced me forty dollars. And if I can’t get the loan repaid or the car now, I’m sort of up the creek, so to speak.”
“You mean Pittleman will want his forty dollars back?”
“Right.”
“But surely you still have the money.”
“Well, I spent some of it.”
“How much?”
“Actually, most of it.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “You spent nearly forty dollars since we last met!”
“Well, I bought some new clothes to replace these. I wore these to prison some years ago. And I have to eat and all. Though I earned a dollar doing some lifting, I’m not eager to use my back for my daily bread.”
She shook her head and looked cross. “See, this is why I was prepared to have you go out on job interviews. If you had, you wouldn’t be in this kind of dilemma.”
“Yeah, I see that. But I can’t take it back now.”
“But it’s not too late, you know. You can earn money other ways. I can help you with that.”
“Yes, ma’am. And it may come to that. And for that I thank you.” He smoked down his Lucky and then ground it in the speckled glass ashtray. “What book were you reading at dinner?”
“It was by Virginia Woolf. Have you ever heard of her?”
Archer shook his head.
“She was from England. She died back in 1941. I admire her work greatly. And her, personally.”
“I might try something of hers then.”
“I could loan you a book here and there. If you’ll really read it.”
“I guarantee you I will. I like detective stuff the best. But I’ll read most anything. So you’re trying to write, too?”
“Again, I just…scribble.” She paused and considered him in an appraising light. “Dan Bullock? You were afraid he was going to try something with me, weren’t you?”
“Well, he was, wasn’t he?”
“It wasn’t the first time a parolee has…approached me.”
“I would expect not. But that doesn’t make it right. And, well, there’s something else.”
“What?”
In answer, he took out the paper he’d found on her office floor and explained that fact to her before handing it over. “I wouldn’t normally give such trash to a lady, but maybe it’s best you know about it.”
She only briefly glanced at it before tossing it into the waste bin next to her desk.
“You’re right, it is trash.”
“You get many of those?” he asked quietly.
She glanced up at him. “It unfortunately comes with the territory. Please don’t give it another thought.”
He nodded, sensing that she was done with this topic. “So any advice for me?”
“Mr. Archer, it’s not my job to get you out of jams you got yourself into.”
He cracked a grin.
“I’m being serious.”
“I know you are. It’s just that I’ve been in jams mostly my whole life.” He rose and put his hat on. “I’ll get outta this one, too.” He tipped his hat. “Hope you have a nice day.”
She half rose from her seat and started to say something, but Archer was already gone. Crabtree rushed over to the door, opened it, and watched him walk with purpose down the hall and out of sight. She slowly closed the door and went back to her typewriter. But the Royal never clacked once, because she never touched the keys.
Chapter 11
THAT NIGHT, ARCHER, dressed in his new clothes, walked down the street and took up his post across the street from the Cat’s Meow. It was near on eight, and he assumed that Pittleman and Jackie might already be in there. After having had dinner with the woman he felt a pang of jealousy that she was in the company of another man, particularly a man like Hank Pittleman.
While he stood there, Archer thought about what he would discuss with Pittleman when he came out of the bar. He wanted the man to have a few drinks in him before he did so. He didn’t think he was going to get a second chance with the gent. But the fact was the collateral was no more, so perhaps Pittleman would have another plan. At the very least, he couldn’t blame Archer for Tuttle’s torching his own Caddy.
Like any good scout, Archer was prepared for the unexpected, but he had not anticipated what would happen next.
“Mr. Archer?” said the surprised voice.
He turned to find Ernestine Crabtree standing there on the pavement, not six feet away, staring at him. Like his, her clothes were different from what she had started the day with.