A Bullet for CinderellaMacDonald, John D. (John Dann)
General
A Bullet for Cinderella
MacDonald, John D. (John Dann)
American fiction -- 20th century; Detective and mystery stories
He shrugged. "I don't know where they go. She can always sign for a
tour." He winked. "See the world. See all the ports in S.A. I don't
know where they go."
I wandered back to the Aztec. My bartending friend told me that Toni
Raselle was out in the casino in back, escorted by a general. He said
she was wearing a white blouse and dark-red skirt, and had an evening
scarf that matched her skirt.
I tipped him and went out into the casino. I bought chips through
the wicket just inside the door. The large room was crowded. It was
brightly, whitely lighted, like an operating amphitheater. The light
made the faces of the people look sick. The cards, the chips, the dice,
the wheels were all in pitiless illumination. I spotted the uniform
across the room. The general was big-chested. He held his face as
though he thought he resembled MacArthur. He did a little. But not
enough. He had three rows of discreetly faded ribbons.
Antoinette Rasi stood beside him and laughed up at him. It was the
face of the high-school picture, matured, not as sullen. Her tumbled
hair was like raw blue-black silk. She held her folded _rebozo_ over
her arm. Her brown shoulders were bare. She was warm within her skin,
moving like molten honey, teeth white in laughter against her tan face.
Wide across the cheekbones. Eyes deep set. Nose broad at the bridge.
Feral look. Gypsy look. A mature woman so alive she made the others in
the room look two dimensional, as though they had been carefully placed
there to provide their drab contrast to Toni's look of greedy life.
They were at the roulette table. I stood across the table. The general
was solemnly playing the black. When he lost Toni laughed at him. He
didn't particularly like it, but there wasn't much he could do about
it. I had twenty one-dollar chips. I began playing twenty-nine, and
watching her instead of the wheel. I won thirty-six dollars on the
fourth spin. I began to play the red, and kept winning. Toni became
aware of my interest in her. So did the general. He gave me a mental
command to throw myself on my sword. Toni gave me a few irritated
glances.
Finally the general had to go back to the window to buy more chips.
They didn't sell them at the table. As soon as he was gone I said,
"Antoinette?"
She looked at me carefully. "Do I know you?"
"No. I want a chance to talk to you."
"How do you know my name?"
"Antoinette Rasi. Through Timmy Warden. Remember him?"
"Of course. I can't talk now. Phone me tomorrow. At noon. Eight three
eight nine one. Can you remember that?"
"Eight three eight nine one. I'll remember."
The general came back, staring at me with bitter suspicion. I went
away, taking with me the memory of her dark eyes and her low, hoarse,
husky voice.
I drove back through the night to Hillston. It was well after midnight
when I got there. I wondered if they would be waiting for me at the
motel. But the _No Vacancy_ sign was lighted and my room was dark.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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