“What do you want me to do?”
“Just notify me when she calls this man. If it’s a mushy conversation, I step out of the picture. If it’s blackmail, I want to put the cards on the table with her and say, `Look here, Aunt Amelia, you give me the lowdown on this before you do anything rash. ’”
Frieda Tarbing laughed, extended her hand, and said, “Gimme.”
I said to Bertha Cool, “Give her a hundred.”
Bertha, looking as though she had a mouthful of vinegar, opened her handbag, counted out a hundred dollars, and handed the bills over to Frieda Tarbing.
“When you see me,” I said, “don’t let on that you know me.”
She said, “Say, listen, if you think I’m that dumb, maybe I’d better coach you a bit. This is absolutely between us. I need the hundred bucks, but I need my job, too. Don’t make any dumb plays. The day clerk has been making passes at me, didn’t get to first base, and is just looking for a chance to trip me up on something.”
I said, “It’ll be okay. I’m going in to see Aunt Amelia early in the morning. When I go out, I’ll slip you a note with a number on it. When you get the dope, call me at that number. If the conversation sounds like a mushy, romantic one, you simply say, ‘You’ve lost that bet.’ If it sounds as though there s a crime mixed up in it, say, ‘You’ve won your bet.’ ”
“Okay,” she said. “Open that window as you go out, and switch out the light. I’m going to get another forty winks before the alarm goes off. Bye-bye.”
She rolled up the bills, shoved them in the pillow-case, and straightened out on the bed.