Free Shakedown by William Campbell Gault Page A

the two of them together. “And he’s got the gab, too. He might not need you and me at all.”
    She gave me the last of the egg. “And what can we do about it?”
    I said, “It would be best to tail your dad. He doesn’t know my car and he wouldn’t be as quick to spot a tail.”
    “Tonight when he brings Willi home?”
    “A good idea. I’ll do that. I think I can get Josie lined up in a job today. You phone me when Willi and your dad leave.”
    She stood up and leaned over to kiss my forehead. “I’ve got to run. Willi will be wondering. I’ll phone you.” She studied me a few seconds. “I suppose Josie doesn’t want—honest work?”
    “Do you?”
    “Oh, shut up. Well, it’s her life. You keep your hands off her, understand?”
    “That’s a promise.”
    She waved and went into the bathroom to say goodbye to Josie and then left.
    Art Tatum kicked an oldie around on the record player and I thought back to the day Jean had first come here. She seemed to sail for me and she wouldn’t be a bad partner for a life I intended to get used to.
    Josie came out of the bathroom in her new quilted skirt and embroidered blouse. She wore sandals and no stockings. She smiled at me and put a towel over her skirt before going into the kitchen to do the dishes.
    I phoned Jack Budd and caught him at home.
    “Joe Puma, Jack. How’s business?”
    “Fine. You in the market for something?”
    “No, thanks. Are you?”
    “Always. What have you got?”
    “A very lovely girl who’s had some experience, was tied up with Target. Latin type.”
    “Mexican, you mean?”
    “Come and see her.”
    “I could. It’s not far. This is something new for you, isn’t it, Joe?”
    “What are we arguing about, Jack? If you’re not interested, say so.”
    “I’m interested. What do you expect to get out of it?”
    “What’s the usual cut?”
    “Fifty dollars, if they’re really first rate.”
    It was like finding money in an old suit. I said, “You won’t know if she’s first rate unless you look at her. And one more thing, she doesn’t want to stay in this town.”
    “She won’t need to. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
    I went into the kitchen where Josie was putting away the dishes. “Your new boss is on the way over. He’s got even finer clients than Target had. You’re going to make a lot of money, Josie.”
    She nodded, not looking at me directly. “Just so I get out of this town. I hate this town.” She took a deep breath and faced me squarely. “You are trying to do what’s best for me, aren’t you?”
    I nodded. “Are you happy about it?”
    “I am,” she said. “Believe me, Peter, I am.”
    “My name is Joe, remember?”
    She shook her head. “I’m sorry. For a moment, my mind—I don’t know why I should think of Peter Deutscher.” She put a hand on my arm. “That Jean is a fine girl. You be good to her, won’t you?”
    “Of course, Josie.”
    She was sitting on the davenport, the full skirt spread neatly, her black hair glistening in the afternoon sunlight when Jack Budd came.
    His face showed his surprise. “Well,” he said. “Well and well, again.” He looked at me. “Lovely.”
    Clothes will do it, every time. She did look lovely. I said, “I wouldn’t waste your time with trash, Jack. Josie is all lady.”
    “Stand up, dear,” he said.
    She stood up, and the full feminine attraction of her full bodied figure was outlined by the window behind her.
    He took a breath and said, “Get your clothes, dear. I’ll have you on a plane for Phoenix tomorrow.”
    She went to get her clothes, and he came over to slip some bills into my hand. “Experienced, is she, Joe?”
    “A little,” I answered. One of Target’s upper level girls until he got the knife. High class.”
    “Sure—those clothes—you can always tell.” He looked at my lip. “What the hell happened to you?”
    “Walked into a door.”
    Then Josie was coming with the suitboxes. She held out a hand. “Good-bye,