They stood back and looked at me.
Gus said to the fat guy: “We gotta get goin’.” He went over to Mardi’s door and turned the handle. The door was locked. I knew that door would want some opening. They could only do that by making a hell of a noise.
I said: “Skip it, you two guys, can’t you leave us alone? You ain’t getting in there without callin’ out the riot squad, so why not turn it in?”
The fat guy gave a little chuckle. When he laughed he certainly looked mean. “This is easy,” he said. “We’ll get her out quick an’ quiet.’
He went to the door and pushed Gus on one side. He put his bullet-head against the panels. “Come on out, sister,” he said, speaking in his hoarse, croaking voice. “We want you out in ten seconds or we start on your boy friend.”
I yelled: “To hell with them, Mardi! You stay where you are. Yell out of the window…!”
Gus hit me across the mouth with the back of his hand. His bony knuckle cut my lip and I staggered across the room, getting my balance.
The fat guy knocked on the door again. “Wait a minute, sister,” he called. “Don’t you start anythin’ until I’m through. Then you can make up your mind. I know you’re in there, so you don’t have to be cagy. You can hear me okay?”
“I can hear you.” Mardi’s voice was pretty steady.
“If you don’t come out right now, I’m going to get tough with your boy friend. When I say tough, I mean tough, get it? I’ll give you ten seconds, an’ if you ain’t out by then I’m goin’ to give him the works.”