He went out of the room, unlocking the door and leaving it open. He passed Bugsey wandering in from outside. He didn’t say anything, but went on into the garden.
Bugsey looked after him, a bewildered expression on his face. He went into the lobby and glanced into Glorie’s room. Bugsey paused, staring. Glorie was lying on her side. The white dress was rumpled, and he could see white flesh where her stocking ended. He rubbed his chin. He blinked at her, hardly believing his eyes when she began to take off her dress. He shut the door.
V
Towards evening Fenner returned to the bungalow; He found Bugsey sitting on the porch steps, making patterns on the gravel path with a piece of wood. He said, as he went past, “Did she bite?”
Bugsey started, but before he could say anything, Fenner had passed into the bungalow. He went straight to Glorie’s room.
Glorie was sitting on the window-seat, dressed in a pale green wrap. She was looking out of the window, and she turned quickly as Fenner walked in. “Beat it,” she said harshly.
Fenner shut the door. “I’ve got a little story to tell you. The Federal Bureau has been digging up the past, and I’ve been looking the dope over. Some quite interesting stuff.”
Glorie sat very still. “What do you mean?” she said.
Fenner sat on the bed. “I’ll tell you,” he said evenly. “Some of it’s just guess work, some of it’s facts, but it makes a nice little story. It starts off in a hick town in Illinois. The guy who runs this town gets himself a young wife. That’s all right, but the young wife has got big ideas. She begins to spend more money than her hubby can make. The name of this guy is Leadler, and he’s a politician of sorts. You married him because you thought you could get out of the cheap song-and-dance show you were touring in. Well, you did. Leadler, to keep you in silk pants, helps himself to a lot of dough that belongs to the town. You both take a powder to Florida.”
Glorie folded her hands in her lap. “You can’t do anything to me,” she said.