Free Jimmy and Fay by Michael Mayo

her every day, tucked her in every night. Things were great until Kitty started to grow up. When she was twelve, she looked sixteen. One evening when the tucking took longer than usual, Kitty’s Mother became suspicious, went upstairs, and caught Hull in bed with Kitty.
    Enraged, Kitty’s Mother decided that it had to be the girl’s fault and kicked her out then and there. Kitty took her sixteen-year-old figure and twelve-year-old voice into Chicago and started singing in restaurants and clubs. Once she was on her feet, she tried to get back in touch with her Mother, but no. By then, Hull had hit the road and Kitty’s Mother had found Husband Number Three. She still blamed her daughter for everything.
    So Kitty headed for New York, landed her part in the Broadway revue, and decided to try to reach her Mother one more time. As it happened, Husband Number Three hadn’t lasted very long. And when the new Gigolo said he’d love to see the Gay White Way, Kitty’s Mother finally said yes, and they moved east.
    It must have been about then, as I remember it, that I told Polly that was the craziest and most terrible story I’d ever heard. She rolled over and lay on top of me and whispered, “That’s not the worst of it.” You see, Kitty tried to clean up, and Polly paid for her to take the cure. She knew it wouldn’t stick, but Kitty got well enough to ask Polly if she could come to work for her, just for a little while, until she could get back on her feet and back into show business.
    Polly said she shouldn’t have done it, but she agreed. Within a couple of weeks, word got out that she had a mother and daughter working together in her place, and they attracted a different kind of customer, guys who were willing to pay a lot more to see them in the sack together. It only lasted for a month or so until Kitty’s Mother moved back to Chicago and Kitty went back to the street. But the night Polly told me the story, she said it was one of the few things she had done that really made her feel dirty.
    Made me queasy, too, and I had reason to remember it later when my business with Miss Wray was working itself out.

Chapter Seven
    When the taxi dropped me in front of the speak, I checked the parked cars. No Olds.
    I knocked on the door. Fat Joe Beddoes unlocked it and snarled, “There’s some fucking newspaper guy to see you.”
    By then, it must have been close to midnight. I saw that the crowd was on the thin side but lively. Democrats, no doubt, happy their man was about to take office.
    Arch Malloy was working the tables. Connie was with Marie Therese behind the bar. She gave me a quick smile before she remembered that she was mad at me and frosted over. I still didn’t know why. I hung up my coat and hat and stopped at the bar. Connie said, “Saxon Dunbar is waiting to see you, and one of those lawyers who was with Miss Wray has called four times. His number is on your desk. ‘No matter the hour,’ he wants you to call him.”
    â€œThat’s what he said, ‘no matter the hour?’”
    She nodded and I asked how business had been while I was gone. She said good and asked if I’d found out anything about the pictures.
    â€œNot what I was expecting. When I’m finished with this guy, come up to the office and I’ll tell you all about it. And ask Vittorio to make me a sandwich. I’m starving. Something hot. Didya eat yet? No? Tell him to make two.”
    She answered with a sly look that was almost a smile and said, “Whatever you say, Jimmy.”
    Saxon Dunbar held out a hand and got up from his seat at my table in the back. As usual, it was covered with the day’s newspapers, four or five of them. I bought a lot of the papers in those days. Customers brought in more, and everybody who worked in the place gave me the ones that were left lying around. By that time of night, my table was a mess. He had dug out his