He tried it, and when he discovered it was locked, pounded on it with his gloved fists. Eventually, the door was opened by a woman as broad-breasted as a pigeon. She was wearing a long, white satin peignoir that might have looked bridal had there not been a black cigarette anchored in the corner of her lips. In her arms she was holding an apricot-colored cat. She was stroking his luxurious fur with an idle hand. Woman and cat glared at Reede. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded. "Why do most men come here, Nora Gail?" Rudely, he brushed past her and went inside. If he'd been anybody else, he would have been shot right between the eyes with the pistol she kept hidden in the gaiter belt she always wore. "Obviously, you haven't noticed. Business was so slow tonight, we closed early." "Since when has that mattered to you and me?" "Since you started taking advantage. Like now." "Don't give me any lip tonight." He was already at the top of the stairs, heading toward her private room.
