“I might be a runt,” he muttered, “but I’m a patient runt.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Heading East Again
“Well, you are a persistent little devil, aren’t you?”
Ruby stood in the doorway of her trailer, her hand on her hip, staring in disbelief at the man on her doorstep. “You must have a death wish! Don’t you know what Hack will do to you if he finds you here again?”
“I need to talk to you, Miss Zale. My name is Francis Key.”
“What’d you do—wait until you saw him leave?”
“That’s right.”
“Look, you must be pretty stupid or else you’ve got a hearing problem. Now, let me make it plain. I don’t go out with other men. I’ve got a guy, and that’s it.”
“That’s not why I’m here, Miss Zale.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
He grinned at her, and Ruby thought it made him look young and innocent, but she had seen innocent faces before. She shook her head and demanded, “All right, what’s your pitch, buster?”
“Could I come inside?”
“No.”
“Well, then, could you step over here with me out of the doorway?”
“No.”
“All right,” Key said in a resigned tone. He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to her. “I used to work for the Rader Investigation Agency in New York City.”
“You’re a private cop?”
“Something like that. Anyway, I took on a special job, Miss Zale.”
Suspicion narrowed Ruby’s eyes. “Look, I don’t know what you’re after me for, but you ain’t got nothin’ on me.”
“Oh, I’m certain I don’t. Really, this is another matter entirely.”
“All right. Spit it out, then. Hack’ll be back any minute. He just went to get some cigarettes.”
“I hate to be the bearer of ill tidings. You probably haven’t heard, but Bertha Zale died recently.”
Ruby did not speak for a moment, then asked, “What’d she die of?”
“I don’t know really. She was in prison.”
“Yeah, I heard she went to the pen. Look, if you’re expectin’ me to show some kinda grief, you might as well forget it. I ran away from her ‘cause of the way she treated me. Too bad she’s dead, but that’s the way it goes.”
“There’s more to it than that, Miss Zale.”
“Don’t tell me the old lady got rich and left me a bundle.” She smiled cynically, passing her hand up over her hair. “You’ll never make me believe that.”
“It’s not exactly that.”
“What do you mean ‘not exactly’? Come on, I’m tellin’ you Hack will be back, and you’ll be in real trouble.”
“If you’ll just listen to me without asking questions, I have something important to tell you. When I finish, I’ll answer any questions you have.”
“All right. Let’s have it.”
“Your real name is not Ruby Zale. It’s Grace Winslow. Your parents are Phil and Cara Winslow, who live on Long Island in New York State. Bertha Zale was at Manhattan’s City Hospital to have a baby at the same time that Mrs. Winslow was there having hers. Bertha’s baby died, and she exchanged her dead child for the living Winslow child....”
Ruby listened to the rest of the story without speaking. “And so you see,” he finished, “you’ve really been living in the wrong circumstances all of your life.”
Ruby let out a good firm laugh from deep in her throat. “You really expect me to believe that cock-and-bull story?”
“I was afraid you wouldn’t,” he said regretfully, “but it’s true.”
“So my mom told some priest all of this when she was dyin’. Don’t you know she was on dope and booze? She made up stories all the time, Key. It’s just another one of ’em.”
“Not this one. It’s been very carefully checked. The only death recorded at City Hospital in New York on that date is that of Grace Winslow, but you’re Grace Winslow.”
“Look, get out of here, will ya. I haven’t got time—” Suddenly the roar of a motorcycle split the air, and Ruby warned, “You’ve gotta get out of here.”
“But you can’t stay here, Miss Zale. You need to go back—”
“Get out of here now! He’s drunk, and he won’t think twice about smashing in your skull.”
Francis turned with alarm and started away, but Keller brought the motorcycle right in front of him, jumped off, and let the machine fall to the ground. His eyes were bloodshot, and rage reddened his face as he bellowed, “I told you what would happen, you little punk!”
“Leave him alone!” Ruby called out. “He didn’t mean any harm. He’s just some kind of nut.”
But Keller ignored her. He grabbed Key by the lapels and swing his huge fist. Key managed to turn his head so the blow struck him over the left eye. Yellow stars exploded inside his skull, and a loud roaring drowned out everything else. He felt himself propelled backward and hit the ground hard. He lay there unable to move, and through a fog he heard the woman cry, “Don’t do it, Hack! You’ll kill him!”
Before he could guess what was coming, Key felt Hack’s heavy motorcycle boot catch his left arm and smash into his ribs. The pain was unbelievable, and the force of the blow rolled him over.
Ruby grabbed Hack by the arm. “That’s enough! You’re breaking his ribs!”
“I’m gonna stomp him into the dust!” Keller grunted. “Get out of the way.”
Ruby jumped in front of him, blocking his path. “You’re drunk, Hack. You’ll kill him and wind up in the pen. Is that what you want?”
“Get outta the way, Ruby.”
“No, I won’t. Come on inside. Let him crawl away.”
Keller slapped Ruby in the face, which spun her around, but she did not lose her balance. Keller started back toward Francis and prepared to kick him in the head. With one swift motion, Ruby drew a blackjack from her hip pocket and brought it down on Hack’s head. He grunted and staggered as she yelled, “That’s enough, Hack! I’ll lay you out.”
Keller grabbed her by the throat, and Ruby lifted the metal-filled weapon again and slammed it into his head with all of her might. It struck his head with a dull, meaty sound, and his eyes rolled back, showing white. He collapsed limply to the ground, and Ruby stood breathing hard, staring down at him, her face tingling from the force of his slap. She shoved the blackjack into her pocket and stepped around to where Francis was struggling to get to his feet.
“Are you okay?”
“Just ... a little woozy.”
“Can you get up? He’s out, but when he wakes up he’ll kill you. And me too.”
Ruby pulled Francis to his feet and saw that his face was twisted with pain. “He may have busted your ribs, but you’ve gotta get out of here.”
“What about ... you?” he gasped.
“I think I’d better get out too. He’s crazy enough to kill me.”
“Then get your stuff and we’ll go.”
Ruby stared at him. “To New York?”
“That’s right,” Key said painfully, holding his right side. The blow had split his eyebrow, and he wiped the blood away with his free hand. “I’m telling you the truth. You’re Grace Winslow.”
For one moment the woman stood absolutely motionless. Key thought she would refuse, but then she laughed metallically. “All right, Francis. That’s your name, ain’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“Let me get my stuff and we’ll get out of here. Whatever’s in New York can’t be as bad as him.”
Key bent over, trying to catch his breath. He could not breathe very deeply, for each breath was like a knife slicing his ribs. He felt the blood trickling down his face but was hurting too much to worry about it. It was all he could do to stand up, and finally when the woman came out with two suitcases, he said, “Can you hand me mine?”
She grabbed his suitcase and put it in his left hand.
“Come on,” she said. “You have a car?”
/>
“No, I came in a cab.” He walked stiffly, each step jarring his side, and the woman beside him watched him curiously.
“Can you make it?” she asked.
“I’ll make it. Just get us to a cab.”
The trip seemed to take forever, but finally the sounds of the carnival grew fainter, and Key heard the woman holler, “Hey, taxi, over here!”
Swaying on his feet, he felt the woman take the suitcase. The door opened, and he almost fell inside. She had to lift his legs in, and he heard the door slam. He was eased back in the seat, and he heard her get inside.
“Take us to the railroad station, driver,” he instructed weakly.
“You better get some stitches in that eyebrow first,” Ruby said to him. “Driver, take us to the nearest hospital instead.”
Key did not respond. It was all he could do to keep himself from crying out as the taxi bounced over the ruts of the vacant lot. As he felt the ride get smoother and the tires begin to hum on pavement, he felt himself losing consciousness. It felt good to slip into the warm blackness and leave the pain behind.
****
“Well, you don’t have any broken ribs, but they’re pretty well bruised.”
Francis tried to take a deep breath and grimaced. “They feel broken, Doctor.”
“They’re going to hurt for a long time. The bandages will help, but every time you breathe, they’re going to give you some pain. My advice is to go to bed and stay there for a couple of weeks.”
“What about those stitches?” Ruby asked. She had been allowed to stay in the examining room, where she had watched the proceedings. The young doctor on duty seemed rather inexperienced. Thread dangled from the messy stitches in Key’s eyebrow and were covered by a goopy orange medication.
“They can come out in five or six days.”
“Thanks a lot, Doc. How much do I owe you?”
“Pay at the desk as you go out.”
Key carefully eased himself down off the table and caught himself as his feet hit the floor and jarred him.
“You’re not gonna get far like that,” Ruby said.
“Let’s go to the station.”
“You’ll pass out.”
“Well, put me in a wheelbarrow and drag me. We’ve got to get on that train. There’s nowhere else we can go.”
Ruby called a cab and got Francis into it, along with the luggage, and when they reached the train station, she got him inside and seated on a bench in the waiting area.
“What do we do now?” she said.
Key pulled out his billfold and handed her some cash. “Go buy two tickets to New York City. Get one sleeping compartment and one day coach. This ought to cover it.”
Ruby looked at the money. “I might run off with this.”
“I wish you wouldn’t,” he said.
Ruby stared down at the man and shook her head. “You are a piece of work, Francis Key. Okay, I’ll get the tickets.”
****
Ruby looked at the door the porter had opened, then stepped inside. “Hey, this is classy,” she said.
“I’ll get your bags, miss, and put ’em right in here.”
“Keep mine in here if you will,” Key whispered to Ruby.
“Where are you goin’?”
“Day coach, two cars down.”
Ruby stared at him and nodded.
Key’s face was pale, and he was perspiring. “You keep the billfold. The porter here will show you to the dining car.” He shuffled painfully away.
“That ain’t your husband, miss?” the porter asked. “He don’t look too good.”
“He had an accident. And no, he’s not my husband.”
“He looks mighty poorly. Anyway, if you’d like something to eat, let me know. The dining car is the one up ahead.”
“All right.” Ruby stepped back and shut the door and then explored the tiny sleeping compartment, the first one she had ever seen. She had only ridden in day coaches when traveling with the Royal Shows. When she discovered the sink, she cried with delight and immediately stripped off her biker’s outfit and took a sponge bath. After drying off, she opened one of her bags and put on one of her two dresses.
Leaving the compartment, she went directly to the dining car, carrying Francis’s money in a small purse.
A white-coated server met her. “You’ll be dining alone, miss?”
“Yeah.”
“Here’s a nice seat right here by the window. Can’t see much right now, but when we pass through a town you can see the lights.”
Ruby sat down nervously, and the waiter put a menu before her.
“Can I bring you something to drink while you’re waiting?”
“Maybe some coffee, please.”
“Yes, miss.”
Ruby studied the menu and was amazed at the variety. She ordered lobster, which she had never had before, and when it was placed on the table, her eyes opened wide. “How do you get at this thing?”
The server’s white teeth flashed in sharp contrast to his shiny black face. “You use this nutcracker, miss, to crack the claws. Then you pull the meat out. You dip it in this melted butter here.”
Ruby found the lobster delicious and unlike anything she had ever eaten before. She ordered fresh strawberries and cream for dessert and had another cup of coffee. She sat there feeling full, and as the train sped through the night, she leaned her head back against the seat and thought about Francis Key. He had appeared from nowhere, and she had thought at first that he was a con artist. Some suspicion still lurked in her mind, but at least he had gotten her away from Hack Keller. She had planned to leave him soon anyway, for he was abusive and not a man any woman would stay with for long. He had been virile and tough enough to attract her attention, but now she felt almost dirty as she thought of the time she had spent with him.
She smoked a cigarette, then ground it out and got to her feet. The waiter was there immediately, and she said, “How do I pay for this?”
“You can pay me if you’d like, miss.”
Pulling out the roll of folded bills, she paid the tab and added a little extra for a tip. “It was real good,” she said.
“Thank you, miss. We have a good breakfast too. Anything you like.”
Ruby left and went back to her compartment and sat down. Wondering where she was supposed to sleep, she tried to figure out how the berth worked. By experimentation, she discovered there was an upper berth that could be pulled down.
A knock on the door startled her and she jumped up to open it.
“May I make up your bed, miss?” the porter asked.
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
She stood back while the porter expertly made the seat into a lower berth and then said, “Good night, miss. I hope you sleep well.”
“Thanks.”
When the door closed, Ruby ran her hand across the clean white sheet. It smelled so fresh, and the pillow was fluffy and inviting. She started to undress but quickly changed her mind and left the compartment. She passed through one coach and entered the next, which was a day coach. She spotted Francis at once in the half-full car. He was halfway down, leaning his head against the window, holding his side. She moved down the aisle and stood over him. He was breathing in short breaths, and perspiration wet his shirt. “Francis,” she said, “are you all right?”
He opened his eyes and whispered yes.
“You don’t look all right. Those ribs are giving you a hard time.”
“I’ll be all right,” Key managed to grunt.
“This is silly. There are two beds in that compartment. Come on, you might as well use one of them.”
“Maybe I’d better not.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Ruby said impatiently. “You’re gonna pass out here. Come on, and don’t argue.”
She stepped back, and Key got to his feet painfully. He could not straighten up fully and moved like an arthritic old man as he made his way down to the sleeping compartment. Ruby followed him down the corridor, and wh
en they reached the door, she opened it for him.
“I’ve discovered that there’s another bed up here,” she told him. She swung the upper berth down, which already had sheets and a pillow and a blanket.
“Okay, get your clothes off and get in that bottom bunk.”
Key was too woozy with pain medication to argue. He pulled off his coat, which was damp with sweat, and started unbuttoning his shirt. He looked at her and said, “That’s good.”
“No it’s not. You’ll be miserable. Go ahead and take your shoes and pants off.”
He sat down on the bunk and she removed his shoes. “That’s enough,” he managed to say as he carefully lay down on the sheet and finally relaxed. “That feels good,” he whispered. He felt her pull the blanket up over him, and he was out.
Ruby straightened up and looked down at the unconscious man. That really is rich, she thought with a smile. Most guys are tryin’ to get me into bed, and here I’m puttin’ one into bed. She undressed quickly and put on a white cotton gown, then climbed up into the bunk. She pulled the sheet and blanket up over her and lay still, listening to the clickety-clack of the wheels until she fell into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Don’t You Like Women?”
Ruby sat across the table in the dining car, sipping coffee out of a fine china cup. They were nearing the end of their long trip across country, and Francis was feeling better. During the early part of the trip he had mostly slept, only staying awake long enough for Ruby to give him his pain pills, help him to the bathroom, or give him a little food.
“You’re lookin’ better. You got some color.” Ruby tipped her cigarette ashes into an ashtray, then settled back to study his face. He was finishing his meal, which was primarily vegetables. He had only nibbled at the glazed chicken but seemed to relish the asparagus. “You eat like a rabbit,” she said.
He managed a smile. “I guess I do. The food’s good, isn’t it?”
“Best I’ve ever had. You ever traveled on one of these things before?”
The Virtuous Woman Page 6
