The Burglar Who Thought He Was Bogart - By Lawrence Block Page 0,60
think it’s so romantic,” Carolyn said. “I think it’s just about the most romantic thing I ever heard of.”
“It wasn’t romantic,” I said.
“Oh, come on, Bern, how can you even say that? It’s incredibly romantic. Night after night, a man goes to the theater all by himself.”
“What do you mean, night after night?”
“Last night and tonight, that’s night after night.” She shook her head at the wonder of it. “Each time he buys two tickets and saves two seats, always in the same location. Each time he gives one of them to the ticket-taker and tells him that a woman may be joining him later.”
“And each time he buys the largest-size popcorn,” I said. “Don’t forget that. And sits there and eats it all himself. You can’t beat that for romance.”
“Bern, forget the popcorn.”
“I wish I could. I’ve got a husk stuck between two molars and I can’t budge it. I just hope it’s biodegradable.”
“You’re just trying to be cynical to hide how romantic you are.” She made a fist, punched me playfully on the shoulder. “You son of a gun,” she said, not without admiration. “I didn’t know you were going to the movies tonight.”
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
“You just happened to be there when the movie was about to start. Just the way I happened to be out in front when it let out the other night, so I could just happen to catch a glimpse of Ilona.”
“In my case it’s almost literally true,” I said. “I couldn’t reach you, I didn’t know what to do with myself, and I was five minutes from the Musette with half an hour until curtain. And I asked myself if I felt like seeing two more Humphrey Bogart films, and I had to admit the answer was yes.”
“So you bought two tickets because it seemed like the hardheaded and sensible thing to do.”
“Maybe that was romantic,” I admitted.
“Maybe?”
“To tell you the truth,” I said. “I thought there was a slight possibility she would show up.”
“Honestly?”
“If she wanted to get in touch with me,” I said, “that was the way to do it. Obviously I didn’t have to leave a ticket for her. But I figured I could afford it. I had twenty bucks from her boyfriend.”
“Mike Todd?”
“Mikhail,” I said, giving the name the full treatment.
“You’re positive that was her in his apartment, Bern?”
“Not necessarily. She could have been in the next apartment, shouting through a hole in the wall.”
“You know what I mean. You’re sure it was her?”
“Positive.”
“Because a lot of women have accents, especially the ones you find hanging out with guys named Mikhail. I mean, what exactly did you have to go by? It’s not as if she said ‘Bear-naaard.’”
“No, it’s as if she said ‘Mikhail,’ and I’m positive it was her. Unless it just happened to be someone else with great tits and an Anatrurian accent.”
“What tits? You didn’t get a look at her, so how do you know what kind of tits she had?”
“I’ve got a good memory for that sort of thing.”
“But the girl in Mikhail’s apartment—”
“Was Ilona. Trust me on this, will you? I recognized her voice, the pitch, the inflection, the accent, everything. If she’d come to the door I would have recognized the rest of her, tits and all. Okay?”
“Whatever you say, Bern.”
“I think it was brilliant of me not to drop my jaw on the floor when I heard her speak up. I just took his twenty dollars and got the hell out of there.”
She frowned. “Bern,” she said, “I hope you’re not planning on keeping that twenty.”
“Why not?”
“You got it under false pretenses.”
“I get most of my money under false pretenses,” I said. “I felt relatively legitimate for a change. He actually handed me the money. Most of the time I take it out of somebody’s strongbox.”
“This is different, Bern.”
“How do you figure that?”
“That money was a donation. If you keep it, you’re not stealing it from Mike Toddsky, or whatever you want to call him. You’re actually stealing it from the AHDA.”
“The what?”
“The American Hip Dysplasia Association. What’s the matter? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Carolyn,” I said carefully, “I made that up. I didn’t want to pick some popular disease, because for all I knew somebody else in the building had come collecting for it a couple of days ago. So I picked hip dysplasia, because I figured I was safe. There’s no such thing as the American Hip Dysplasia Association.”