Free She Woke to Darkness by Brett Halliday

elevators. One was waiting and he opened the door and followed her in. Aline pressed the button for the fourth floor and it began to rise easily. She stood silent, waiting for him to go on.
    “I stopped at a bar for a couple of drinks after leaving you,” Ralph continued, “to give Doris time to break away from the party and get home. I got to her place about twelve-thirty. So it couldn’t have been past midnight when I left you.”
    The elevator stopped and they went down a short length of carpeted hallway to a door which she unlocked. She went in ahead of him to turn on a light in the living room, took a quick look about and shook her head despairingly.
    “I don’t believe I was back here after the party at all. It’s exactly the way I remember leaving it.” She went toward the small dressing alcove off the bathroom, saying, “I know I look like the wrath of God. Make yourself a drink while I fix my face a little and comb my hair.” She went in and closed the door.
    Ralph went to the low, glass-topped bar in front of the studio couch, opened it and took out a flagon of rye and a large shot glass. He filled it and settled back on the couch, his face bland and uncommunicative as he waited for Aline to return.
    It took her ten minutes. Her features were still tight and ravaged, but rouge and powder and a hairbrush had done much to improve her appearance. She sat down beside him, shook her head and shuddered when he lifted his glass and gestured toward its mate with the dregs of a drink she had left before leaving for Bart’s party.
    “Not for me,” she said flatly. “Never again. I swear it. What do you think could have happened after you left me here without a key?”
    “I still think the normal thing would have been for you to ring the superintendent.” He glanced at the speaking tube near the door. “Why not call him and find out, if it’ll set your mind at rest?”
    “And wake him up at this time to ask him that?” she protested. “He’d think I’d lost my mind. Besides, if I did come up, I didn’t stay.”
    “I gather,” said Ralph drily, “that you didn’t stay. However, it would be a starting point if you’re determined to backtrack. Up here, you could have telephoned anyone you liked without dimes. Go ahead and buzz him on the speaking tube. What are janitors for?”
    “I’d be ashamed to ask him. If he didn’t think I was crazy, then he’d know I was too drunk to know what I did.”
    “All right, then,” said Ralph amiably, “I’ll buzz him, and talk to him on the speaking tube.” He hesitated a moment, then added reflectively. “Better still, to save you embarrassment, I’ll telephone him, and let him think it’s an outside call. I’ll say I’m a friend who knows you came home about midnight without a key and am worried. I’ll ask if he let you in, and that won’t give anything away. Know his number?”
    “No. But it’s listed under ‘Superintendent’ in the black book there on the telephone stand.” She started to get up, but Ralph caught her arm.
    “You just sit here nice and comfy. I’ll find it.” He went to the telephone and flipped the pages of her private listing, dialed the number and waited.
    The phone rang a long time before a sleepy voice demanded: “Yeh? Who you calling?”
    “Are you the superintendent at the Maidstone?”
    “Yeh. What you want?”
    “I’m a friend of Miss Aline Ferris in Apartment 4-F. We’ve just discovered that she left her handbag with her keys here when she went home about midnight, and we’re a little worried. Her phone doesn’t answer. Did she ring you about midnight to let her in?”
    “No. Haven’t see Miss Ferris for days.” He slammed the receiver down hard.
    Ralph replaced his receiver and turned to Aline. “That’s not the answer. Let’s see, now.” He crossed over and sat down beside her and stretched his long legs out comfortably. “There you were about midnight on your own doorstep and operating under