Read In a Lonely Place for Free Online

yet enough for a starter.
    He waited until they were at the dinner table before he asked the question casually. “Is he on a big case?”
    She looked at him. Her eyes were anxious. Then she looked away. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “He didn’t say. Only he’d been delayed.”
    She hadn’t seen the evening paper. He could have told her but he didn’t. Let Brub tell her. What she feared.
    He saw Brub at that moment crossing the room. Brub looked worn, he put on a smile in answer to greetings as he passed the various tables, but it was a thin smile, it slipped away as quickly as it came.
    Sylvia saw him almost as soon as Dix did. Anxiety sharpened her face. They were tacitly silent until Brub reached the table. He bent and kissed Sylvia. “Sorry I’m so late, darling.” He didn’t smile at them; he didn’t need to pretend with his wife and best friend. He put out his hand to Dix, “Glad you could join us,” then he sat down, dog tiredness in every muscle. His suit was dog tired too and his linen showed the wilt of the day. His dark hair was crumpled. “I didn’t have time to change.” He smiled at Sylvia. “You can pretend I’m your chauffeur.”
    The waiter, a young colored man, whiter of skin than the beach-brown guests, was unobtrusive at the table.
    Brub looked up. “Hello, Malcolm. Do you suppose you could get me a double Scotch from the bar before you start my dinner? I’ve just come from work and I need it.”
    “I’m sure I can, Mr. Nicolai,” Malcolm smiled. He went way.
    Sylvia’s hand covered Brub’s on the table. “Hard day, darling?” She’d started casual but she couldn’t keep it up. Something about the set of Brub’s mouth released her fear in a little gust. “It wasn’t another—”
    Brub’s mouth was tight; his voice deliberately matter of fact. “Yes, another one.”
    “Brub!” She whispered it.
    He began to light a cigarette, the flame wavered slightly. Dix watched the two with the proper attentiveness, and the proper curiosity. When neither spoke, he let his curiosity become audible. “What’s it all about?”
    “Another woman killed . . . The same way.”
    Sylvia’s hands were clenched.
    Malcolm brought the drink.
    “Thanks,” Brub said and saw Dix. “I’m sorry, chum. How about you?”
    “The same,” he grinned. He didn’t want it for himself; an extra for Brub. To relax Brub. He began on his shrimp cocktail. “Are you assigned to the case?”
    “Everyone in the department is on it.” Brub said. He drank again and he grimaced. “No, it’s not my case, Dix. They don’t put juniors on big stuff.” He turned to Sylvia. “The commissioner called in the whole department. We’ve been with him since five, since I called you. Even hizzoner the mayor sat in.” His mouth tightened. “We’ve got to stop it.”
    “Yes “ Sylvia said. Her eyes were frightened, the color under her tan was gone. It was as if she had personal fright, as if the horror were close to her.
    Dix said, “Someone important who was killed?” Malcolm set down the highball. “Thanks.”
    “No.” Brub was halfway through his drink. “It’s never anyone important.” Again he realized he was talking to someone, not thinking aloud. “I forgot. You wouldn’t know about it. Being a visitor.” He could speak about it calmly; it seemed to relax him as much as a highball would. “The first one was about six months ago. March to be exact.”
    “March sixteenth,” Sylvia said. “The night before the St. Patrick’s party.”
    “We didn’t know it was only the first then. It was a girl down on Skid Row. She was a nice enough kid for the life she lived, I guess. Danced in a bump-and-grind house down there. We found her in an alley. Strangled.” He picked up his glass, emptied it. “No clues. Nothing. We wrote that one off as the neighborhood even though we didn’t get any leads. You usually can on Skid Row. The next one was in April.” His hand reached for his empty