Free So Nude, So Dead by Ed McBain

pal. The cops find out I’m feeding you and—”
    “But you’re going to do it.”
    “No!” Massine screamed. He stubbed out his cigarette. “No!”
    “I’d hate like hell to bust your nose, Massine. I’d hate like hell to do that.”
    “You can’t hurt me no more, Stone. You just—”
    “You know my name.” He wasn’t really surprised, but it meant that Kramer had probably told the cops about the hair dye already. Fine, just fine.
    “Everybody knows your name, Stone. That’s why I ain’t going to risk my hide getting you no—”
    “Shut up!” Ray snapped. He walked up close to Massine. “I need the stuff, Massine. I need it so damn bad that I’m liable to rip off your arms if I don’t get it. You understand? That’s how bad I need it. You going to get it for me, or do I start ripping? Make up your mind fast, Massine.”
    Massine gulped audibly, his eyes glued to Ray’s face. “Sure, Stone. Sure, I’ll get some stuff for you.”
    Ray felt a sweet pain shoot through his body. He was going to get fixed. Soon, soon. He was going to get a shot.
    “Now,” he said quickly.
    “Take it easy, Stone, take it easy.” Ray recognized the oily tones of the pusher again, and he clenched his fists. Massine said hastily, “I got to go out and get the stuff.”
    “Where?”
    “A connection.”
    “How long?”
    “About five hours.”
    “That’s too long,” Ray snapped.
    “I told you, Stone, they got the city covered like a corpse. I can’t just run out and get the stuff. It’s going to take a little time.”
    “Two hours,” Ray said. “No more.” He reconsidered quickly. “Make it an hour.”
    “Have a heart, Stone. How can I—”
    “All right, an hour and a half. No more, understand?”
    Massine nodded halfheartedly. “Okay. Christ, you must think I’m a magician.”
    “I don’t care what you are. Bring back a quarter-ounce in an hour and a half.”
    “A quarter! Stone, that’s impossible.”
    “An eighth, then.”
    “I’ll try.”
    “You’ll get it, Massine. If you don’t, I’ll be waiting here to break your arms. You’ll get it.”
    Massine nodded dully. “You better take a walk meanwhile.”
    “Why?”
    “I just don’t want any cops to catch you here, that’s all.”
    Ray bunched his fists, took a step that brought him within three inches of Massine. “You planning a cross, Massine?”
    “Hell, no. Why should I—”
    “I’m just making sure. Remember this, Massine. If I get picked up in the next hour and a half, I’m going to tell the cops you’re my pusher.”
    “What?”
    “You heard me. I’ll tell them you’ve been supplying me for the past fifty years. How does that sound, Massine?”
    “Hell, Stone—”
    “And I’ll tell you something else. If you’re not back here in an hour and a half, I’m going to call the cops and tell them all about you, anyway.”
    Massine tried to assume the pose of a hurt little boy. “You can trust me, Stone,” he said.
    “I know.” Ray smiled. “You’ve got almost as much to lose as I have.” He looked at Massine’s wrist. “What time is it?”
    “Five to seven.”
    “I’ll be back at eight-thirty.”
    “Okay.”
    Ray started for the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, then turned, smiling.
    “You’d better have the stuff, Massine.”
    “I’ll have it.”
    “Eight-thirty.”
    “Sure, sure.”
    Ray wet his lips. An hour and a half. Ninety minutes. Ninety minutes to heaven. The thought was delicious.
    Quickly, he closed the door behind him.

Chapter Seven
    Dusk touched the sky, streaking it with lavenders, reds, oranges as the sun dipped below the horizon. The neon flickers leaped into life, shouting their wares to Broadway. And the people began to come out of their holes, pleasure seekers, curious, indifferent, interested, bored. Men in shirt sleeves, and girls in light cotton dresses. Sailors in tight whites and tilted hats, popcorn vendors, floozies, be-boppers with beards and berets, a blind man