Free Unknown Man No 89 (1977) by Elmore - Jack Ryan 02 Leonard Page A

they might hold each other for protection. Maybe Lonnie knew him, maybe not. It didn't matter.
    A funny thing happened.
    Virgil was pulling down the zipper of the raincoat with his left hand. The little guinea or Greek beauty-parlor man seemed to realize something then. He said, "Oh, my God, it's a holdup."
    Virgil hadn't thought of that. He didn't have to say anything. The beauty-parlor man was telling him he had already emptied the cash register in front. The day's receipts were in that little room, the closet, and he'd go in and get them if Virgil wanted. All right? Honest to gosh, but it was mostly checks. He didn't want checks, did he? Virgil said no, he didn't want checks. The beauty-parlor man went into the closet room. He came back out right away putting a stack of bills in an envelope that said Hairhouse in the corner and handed it to Virgil. Virgil said thank you.
    He had to put the envelope in the left-side pocket. His hand came out and finished unzipping the raincoat, pulling the skirt aside. The heavy stubby front end of the twelve-gauge appeared.
    "And thank you, honey," Virgil said to the boy sitting there bare-chested with his chains and his hairnet and his mouth open. Virgil gave Lonnie a double-O twelve-gauge charge from ten feet away, pumped the gun hard with his left hand and hit him again, whatever part of him it was going out of the chair ass over hair dryer, making a terrible noise and shattering a full-length mirror, wiping it from the wall, as the beauty-parlor man began to scream, backing away.
    Virgil stared at him, frowning at the painful sound, until he lowered the blunt end of the shotgun and zipped the raincoat over it. The beauty-parlor man stopped screaming. Virgil continued to frown, though now it was more an expression of concern.
    He said, "Man, get hold of yourself." And walked out.
    Chapter 8
    This end of the hallway was dark. On the wall, near the door, was a light fixture shaped like dripping candlesticks, but there were no bulbs in it. Ryan had to strike a match to read the room number. Two-oh-four.
    He listened a moment before trying the door. The knob was loose, it jiggled, but wouldn't turn either way. He knocked lightly on the door panel and waited.
    "Lee? . . . You in there?"
    He had driven past the Good Times Bar and the place was empty. If she wasn't here . . .
    He knocked again, giving it a little more but still holding back, and waited again. There was no sound. Silence. Then a creaking sound. But not from inside the apartment.
    The figure approached from the far end of the hall where a dull orange glow showed the stairwell: a dark figure wearing a hat, coming into the darkness toward him.
    "You locked out?" Virgil said.
    A black guy who was bigger than he was-three o'clock in the morning in a dark hallway. Ryan did not have to decide anything. If the guy was armed he could have anything he wanted. The nice tone didn't mean a thing.
    "There's supposed to be somebody in there," Ryan said. "She's expecting me, but I think she might've passed out."
    "Let me see," Virgil said.
    Ryan stepped out of the way. Virgil moved in. He tried the knob, then took a handful of keys on a ring from his jacket pocket. Ryan thought at first he had a passkey. No, he was feeling through the keys, trying different ones in the lock.
    "Are you the manager?"
    "I seen you, I wondered if you locked out." Like he happened to be standing in the hall, three o'clock in the morning.
    "You live here?" Ryan asked him.
    Virgil didn't answer. He said, "Think I got it. Yeah . .." He pushed the door open gently, took a moment to look in, and stepped out of the way.
    "Your friend laying on the bed."
    A dim light from somewhere showed the girl's legs, still in the Levi's, at one end of the narrow daybed. Ryan tried to move quietly across the linoleum floor. He could hear her breathing now, lying on her back in a twisted, uncomfortable-looking position, her hips turned as though she had tried to roll over and had given