“Any plans for her future, Carmen?”
She laughed bitterly. “I should make plans for her future. I can’t even figure my own.”
I said, “One more question about Evaline. Who was the big beefy guy about six feet tall with the black hair and grey eyes that had such a crush on her? He had a little mole on his cheek. She told me that if he happened to be in the place when I came back not to make any play for her but to pick one of the other girls and—”
Her eyes stared at me with the fascination of a bird watching a snake. Slowly she pushed her chair back. Her voice, hardly above a whisper, said, “So you know that, do you? Well, you know just too damn much.”
I said, “No. Honest. I—”
“And to think I didn’t spot you,” she said. “I thought I could tell a flatfoot as far as I could see him.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Carmen,” I said. “I’m not.”
She kept studying me as though I’d been a queer-looking fish in an aquarium. After a moment, she said, “By God, I don’t believe you are. And if you aren’t— Excuse me a minute. I’ll be right back.”
She got up and went into the women’s room. I saw her flash a high-sign to the hostess when she went in. In less than a minute the hostess went into the rest room. After a while the hostess came out and went over to talk with the manager. A few moments later, the manager came strolling casually by.
He paused at my table and looked at the two glasses and at Carmen’s empty place. “Being taken care of?” he asked.