"Bumps," Ray said. He took a pull from his own glass.
"Yeah," he said. "All alone in the building, the whole damn building,
that's what worries me a little. We live in a third floor, top floor,
flat over a store, see. And the second floor flat is vacant right now;
people moving in on the first of the month but that's a week yet. And
she's the prettiest--Say, let me show you."
He opened a compartment of his wallet and took out two snapshots of his
wife. He always carried them. Not out of sentiment but because so many
other men carried pictures of their wives or kids or both and he didn't
want to be left out if it came to a photo showing match. Besides, Ruth
_was_ damned pretty. One of the photos was a close-up and made her look
sweet and tender. The other had been snapped at the beach, Ruth in a
bathing suit. She'd probably have been annoyed that he carried that one
and showed it to other men, who usually whistled when they saw it, but
what she didn't know didn't hurt her.
He pushed the pictures over to the man and used the motion as an excuse
to slide over one stool and sit next to him. "That's Ruth," he said.
"Ruth Fleck, if you forgot my name. Ain't she a honey?"
"Sure is."
The man was bent over the photographs on the bar, studying them as
closely as though he were nearsighted. Ray Fleck couldn't see his eyes,
which was perhaps just as well; they might have unnerved him and he
needed every bit of nerve and every bit of acting ability he had, to
put this over.
He asked casually, "Ever eat at a restaurant called Mikos'? Out on
North Broadmoor?"
The man still didn't look up. "Know where it is; I've driven past. But
I never ate there. Why?"
"Just that if you had you might have seen Ruth. She's working there,
just temporarily. Waitress on the evening shift till eleven-thirty,
gets home about midnight."
The man pushed the pictures back. He still didn't look at Ray; now he
was looking at his drink, and put a hand around it, moving the glass in
slow circles. "Good looking, all right. But what you worrying about?
You got a chain bolt on the door, ain't you? Everybody has, somebody
told me."
Suddenly Ray's mouth felt dry, and he knew he was winning. He had to
wait a second to get saliva in his mouth so he could talk naturally.
"Ordinary bolt, not a chain bolt. But she has to open up when I come--"
He broke off and laughed suddenly.
"What the hell, I clean forgot. We got a system, Ruth and me. A code
knock so she knows it's me if I get home after she does. She don't open
the door otherwise. But I haven't had to use it for a few weeks and I
clean forgot about it for the minute."
He took a sip of his drink and put the glass down again. "Imagine
me forgetting, when we picked a code I couldn't forget. Same as our
address. We live at three one two Covington Place, see, three knocks,
then one, and then two. That way I don't have to yell out my name
or anything and anyway somebody else could say 'It's Ray,' so that
wouldn't mean anything. Say, who do you think will be playing in the
series this year?"