on the floor. “Tony,” she said.

There was no answer.

She noticed how the curtains moved in the wind, never quite making it before they collapsed again. It was hot in the apartment.

Eleven o’clock.

When she could not stand the silence any longer, she looked for her bottle. It stood where it had always stood, on a small table beside Catell. She took it, brushing up against his back.

There was some ice in the kitchen, and Selma suddenly decided she needed ice in her drink. When she came back into the room with the fireplace, Catell was still in the same place. And the other one.

“Tony,” she said.

When there was no answer, she tilted the glass and drained it.

“You need a drink, Tony.”

She splashed whisky into her glass and held it down. She moved it closer, touching the rim to his mouth.

That was the first time Catell moved. He moved sideways, avoiding the glass. That was all.

“Tony, for chrissakes. You know I’m sorry, Tony. You know that, don’t you? What do you want me to say? I know this is terrible. Tony, hey!”

She poured the rest of the whisky into the glass.

“Hey?”

Catell didn’t answer.

“There isn’t anything you can do. Or anybody, hey? This is terrible, lovin’ cup, I really mean it. But you’re making it worse. Don’t make it worse. Listen to me. Listen to Selma, lovin’ cup!”

She drank the last of the whisky. Standing in the middle of the room, she looked around. Her shoe was under the leg of the girl. Selma went over and pulled it out. She put the shoe on and poked Catell with her foot.

“You better get up now, Tony. I said—Hey, Tony, what’s the matter with you? Get up now. Hey, Tony, I know exactly what we’ll do, listen. First we get outa here and head back for Detroit. I been doing you some good there, Tony, really I have. Listen to this. We go back there, and Paar—you know Paar—he promised—Tony, now cut this out! You don’t like what I’m saying? Listen, you, Selma is the little girl what can help you, Tony. You and me got a lot of life left, you know? Tony, get up from there, for chrissakes. You trying to drive me bats? I’m not used to talking to myself. You better buck up now, Tony, up, up, up.”

Taking him under the arms, she pulled Catell off the floor. He stood without protest. He turned around, facing her.

“Tony, come on now. Now’s the time, Tony. Let’s blow outa—”

She stopped, wondering at his eyes. He was looking at her, but not really looking. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out a cigarette, stuck it in his mouth, lit it.

“That’s it, Tony, the old get-up-and-go. Yessirree.”

He was still looking her way, but his face was unnatural. Like dead clay, even his eyes.

She smiled at him, cocking her head. Then she stepped around him with a prance, hands on hips.

“Tony boy, hey, Tony boy. Damnit, Tony, say something when a lady speaks to you. Tony boy, you have to forget all about all this here. You and me gotta start out now. I said let’s go, you sonofabitch, hear? Christ, where’s that bottle? Empty. Chrisalmighty. The cops’ll get you, lovin’ cup. The coppers! They’ll get you, and dead to rights this time. Answer me, you filthy crud, you! The coppers, I’ll call ‘em, ya hear? I’m calling them!”

Screaming the words, she ran to the phone and dialed. Catell smoked and watched her. He watched her through the whole conversation.

“So there!” She hissed the words in his face. “So there, I’ve done it, you no-good sonofabitch. The cops are coming and I don’t care! I’m sick of you, sick of you!”

Her voice, shrill and hysterical, sank to a blur. She stepped back under his cold stare, puzzled.

“They’re coming,” she repeated.

“They’re coming,” he said.

Didn’t he care? Was this the end? She started to laugh.

“Little Selma keeps her word, you bastard, even if you don’t. Washed up, Catell, and now you know it. You shoulda known before but now you know it. A no-good, washed-up has-been.”

Stepping close to him, she grabbed his lapels and tore at them with each word. “Has-been, has-been—”

Time was running out.

“You rat, you! Trying to ruin everything, aren’t you? Catell, listen to me. Where’s the gold? Open your mouth just once, before everything’s over. Where is it, you rat? The gold, where—”

For a moment Catell came alive.

“Say it, Tony, say it. We can still—”

With a wooden motion he reached out and pushed Selma