“Come and sit down,” Eva said, patting the chair next to hers. “I’ve been dying to meet you ever since Ernie told me about you.”
“That’s right,” Little Ernie said, grinning “Meet Frank Kelly’s gunman. He’s tough, but ’e don’t like talking about it.”
George sat down. The gun dug into him, and deliberately he pulled it from his hip pocket, and then glanced at the other two, tightening his mouth and scowling.
They both froze at the sight of the gun. Eva’s eyes dilated and her lips parted. Little Ernie stiffened, his face expressionless.
“Do you mind if I put it on the mantelpiece?” George said, carelessly, getting to his feet. “It’s a bit in my way.”
“That’s all right, chum,” Little Ernie said, his voice a trifle husky. “You make yourself at ’ome.”
As George put the Luger on the mantelpiece, the door opened and Cora came in. George looked at her; a shiver of pleasure and desire ran through him. She had washed her hair, which was now soft and fluffy; she was cleaner than he had ever seen her before, and she was wearing a scarlet wrap which enhanced her strange beauty. Her feet and legs were bare. George suspected that she wasn’t wearing anything under the wrap, and the thought sent his blood racing through his veins.
Nor was he the only one. Little Ernie, too, looked at her with frank admiration and lechery.
“Come on in,” he said, turning to the cocktail cabinet. “What’ll you ’ave? Doesn’t she look a beauty, Eva?”
“Wonderful,” Eva said, without any sign of jealousy. She reached forward and rang a hell. “I’ve got to leave you now,” she went on, gathering up her hat and bag. “Ernie’ll look after you. And keep your voices down, won’t you? My gentlemen friends are ever so nervous. They like to think they’re all alone with me, the poor darlings.” She waved her hand and went off, blowing a kiss to Ernie on her way out.