it already.”

The Turtle took the money and stuffed the bills in his pocket without counting them.

“Thanks, feller. You an’ me—”

“Cut the mush, Turtle. And now for some fun. Tonight you and me are going to hit the Pink Shell. Whaddaya say?”

“Man, you’re stepping. You know what that place costs? I been in this town five years, off and on, and I only been hearing about the joint.”

“Tonight we’ll see it.”

They went to the Pink Shell by taxi. After paying a fortune for the fare, they walked around the wide stucco building fronting on the ocean. There was a big moon up and a long pier reached far out over the black, rolling water.

“I hear they got parties down here sometimes. Private parties on the beach,” the Turtle said.

“Too damn cold. Let’s get inside outa this wind.” Like Paar’s place, the Pink Shell was both a regular nightclub and a private club. But in this case the public part was no crummy roadhouse. White baroque columns supported the arch of a rose-colored ceiling. The walls were covered with pink satin, draped in fancy patterns, and stucco statues of naked mermaids flanked the shell-shaped booths along the walls. The mermaids all had pink nipples and red painted mouths.

“Like a dream,” said the Turtle. “Just like a dream. Pinch me, Tonio. No, let Mabel do it.” He watched the hostess come forward.

If a snake had legs, that’s the way a snake would have walked. The hostess slunk up to them, carrying a little pink book in which reservations were marked.

“It may be difficult to find you a table,” she said when Catell told her they had nothing reserved.

“Don’t bother with this room,” said Catell. “Too crowded. Something a little more private.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Without—”

“Call Topper. Tell him Catell wants a space off to the side there, that low room over there.”

The girl went to the wall phone and made a call. Then they watched her come back. She had a high, complicated coiffure, but the dress she wore was simplicity itself. High neck, long skirt, and sleeves coming to points over her hands. What recommended the outfit was the way it clung to the girl’s body. She waved them to follow her and led the way to a side room.

“Tony, that dress!” The Turtle clutched Catell’s sleeve. “That dress is better than skin.”

“The Pearl Room, gentlemen. Miss Rosemary will take care of you.”

Miss Rosemary could have been the other one’s twin. Same hairdo, same body, same dress. Her face was a little different, but that wasn’t the main attraction, anyway. Miss Rosemary led the way to a small table. There was a pink tablecloth and just enough room for elbows and perhaps a glass or two.

“Two bourbons on the rocks,” Catell said, and Miss Rosemary drifted off, smiling.

“Tony, I think I’m too impressed to have a good time.” The Turtle spoke in a whisper.

When the drinks came, a waiter was carrying them.

“I’m sobering up already. Here’s to you, Anthony.”

“Mud.”

They drank.

When they ordered their second round, a piano started to crash out some chords and a rose light hit a curtain at the end of the room.

“A floor show yet! They must have one of them stages in every room here.”

“Must be. Christ, look at that!”

The curtain whipped open with a fast swish and five chorus girls, dressed like the belles of the nineties, came tearing out on the small stage. Brass trumpets and drums joined the piano, but that didn’t drown out the girls. In high-pitched voices they screeched a kind of ragtime ballad about an evil baron and five poor sisters, all innocent and beautiful till the baron came along. All the while they kept bumping and grinding fast. When the refrain came, they tore off their hats. A midget dressed like a Turk rushed around to pick up the hats. Next refrain, off came the gloves. Next refrain, the dresses. The midget kept picking things up. Then the chemises came off. The song got louder, the rhythm jacked up to a terrific pace. Off with the corset. Practically naked, they shivered themselves back and forth. Then the last refrain. With crashing of trumpet, drum, piano, and high voices, they ducked behind a skimpy screen that left their legs and shoulders exposed. The music jumped once and stopped. In the silence only some rustling could be heard, legs and arms moving behind the screen. Then the loud tune started up again, frantic and harsh, and bras and panties came flying over the