The woman addressed as Jude shook her head. “This is only a recruiting station for the regular army. She’ll go over to French Lucy’s; and the Madam will get a round price for the job.”
“Old Lucy’ll get rich off of her! But she needs the money. Ames owns her house, too, doesn’t he?”
“Sure thing!” replied Jude, brightening under the stimulus of her wine. “He owns every house in this block, they say. Got long leases for ’em all. And the rents––suffering Moses! The Madam rolls on the floor and cusses for a week straight every time she pays hers. But just the same, if you’ve ever noticed, the houses that Ames owns are never raided by the coppers. Ames whacks up with the mayor and the city hall gang and the chief of police. That means protection, and we pay for it in high rents. But it’s a lot better’n being swooped down on by the cops every few weeks, ain’t it? We know what we’re expected to pay, that way. And we never do when we keep handin’ it out to the cops.”
“That’s right,” approved some one.
“It sure is. That’s what the collector says. And he’s got a new collector, fellow from the Ketchim Realty Company. They’re the old man’s agents now for his dive-houses. He can’t get anybody else to handle ’em, so the collector tells me.”
“Belle Carey’s place was pulled last night, I hear,” said one of the women, pushing back her plate and lighting a cigarette.
“Yes,” returned Jude, “and why? Cause the house is owned by Gannette––swell guy livin’ up on Riverside Drive––and he don’t divvy with the city hall. Belle don’t pay no such rent as the Madam does––at least so old Lucy tells me.”
The half-intoxicated woman down the table, who had stirred their laughter a few minutes before, now roused up heavily. 13 “Ol’ Lucy––huh! Used to work for her m’self. Caught a pippin for her once––right off the train––jus’ like this li’l hussy. Went to th’ depot in a hack. Saw th’ li’l kid comin’ an’ pretended to faint. Li’l kid run to me an’ asked could she help. Got her to see me safe home––tee! hee! She’s workin’ f’r ol’ Lucy yet, sound’s a dollar.”
She fixed her bleared eyes upon Carmen and lapsed back into her former state of sodden stupidity.
The girl rose hastily from her chair. The policeman’s words at the pier were floating confusedly through her thought. The strange talk of these women increased the confusion. Perhaps a mistake had been made. She turned beseechingly to Jude. “Isn’t this––Mr. Reed’s house?” she asked.