cw.blackalibi- 第1节

　　
　　
　　She　was　sitting　there　at　her　glass；　at　the　fashionable　going…out　hour；　trying　to　decide　between　a　cluster　of　crystal　grapes　and　a　live　gardenia　as　a　shoulder　decoration；　when　someone　knocked　at　the　suite　door；　outside　across　the　adjoining　reception　room。
　　Whatever　her　decision　was　in　the　matter；　she　knew　it　would　have　a　city…wide　effect。　It　meant　that　for　the　next　few　weeks　hundreds　of　young　women　would　either　all　be　wearing　clusters　of　crystal　grapes　or　live　gardenias。
　　It　was　hard　to　believe　that　just　a　couple　of　brief　years　ago　no　one　had　cared　a　rap　what　she　stuck　on　her　shoulder。　Nor　anything　else　about　her；　for　that　matter。　She'd　been　wearing　her　heels　down　to　the　quick　and　getting　consistently　laid　off　in　an　endless　string　of　third…rate　Detroit　roadhouses。　And　now…　She　turned　her　head　and　gave　it　another　look　through　the　windows；　she　couldn't　resist　it。　That　was　the　testimonial；　the　badge；　of　her　importance；　however　transitory　it　might　turn　out　to　be；　that　out　there。
　　
　　CASINO　EXCELSIOR
　　
　　KIKI　WALKER
　　en　la　gran　revista　de　arte
　　〃TRIC…TRAC〃
　　
　　
　　The　biggest　spectacular　in　the　city；　rearing　against　the　cobalt　late…afternoon　sky。　And　when　the　current　was　shot　into　it　next　week；　for　the　opening；　you〃d　be　able　to　read　her　name　after　dark　all　the　way　up　at　the　other　end　of　the　Alameda。
　　They　were　already　naming　perfumes　and　nail　polishes　after　her；　and　of　course　paying　for　the　privilege；　and　the　newest　concoction　at　the　smart　Inglaterra　Bar　was　the　Kiki　Walker　Cocktail　（fiery…red　at　the　top　and　stunning；　the　barman　explained　to　everyone）。　For　the　whole　of　the　last　〃winter〃　（June…September）　she'd　been　queening　it　over　the　third　largest　city　south　of　the　Panama　Canal；　with　her　own　car　and　chauffeur；　personal　maid；　hotel　suite。　Not　bad　for　a　run…of…the…mill　roadhouse　entertainer　from　Detroit；　stranded　down　here　when　a　traveling　show　blew　up。　Not　bad　at　all。
　　She　still　wasn't　quite　sure　how　it　had　e　about　herself。　A　little　dancing　talent；　a　little　singing　talent；　and　a　great　deal　of　luck　had　done　it　for　her。　It　was　mostly　a　case　of　happening　to　be　in　the　right　place　at　the　right　time；　and　of　having　no　petition　to　speak　of。　In　Detroit　her　lyrics　had　been　shoddy；　down　here　they　couldn't　be　understood；　so　they　sounded　witty。　In　Detroit　her　red　hair　had　been　a　monplace；　down　here　it　was　a　rarity。　And　then　Manning　and　his　crazy　stunts　might；　just　might；　she　was　willing　to　admit；　have　played　some　small　part　in　attracting　the　public　eye　to　her。
　　Their　first　meeting　was　not　a　thing　she　cared　to　be　reminded　of。　He'd　been　sitting　at　a　table　at　a　sidewalk　cafй；　needing　a　shave　and　a　clean　collar；　and　she'd　stopped　in　to　find　out　if　they　couldn't　use　a　cashier…or　even　a　waitress。　He'd　bought　her　a　cup　of　coffee；　because　he　was　still　good　for　a　cup　of　coffee　at　that　partic。　ular　place　and　she　looked　as　if　she　needed　one。　When　they　got　up　from　the　table　half　an　hour　later；　he　was　her　press　agent。　Two　weeks　later　she　had　her　first　job　and　he　had　a　clean　collar。
　　〃I　made　him；〃　she　used　to　end　the　unwele　reverie　at　this　point。
　　That　he　might　have　had　something　to　do　with　making　her　was　unthinkable；　not　even　to　be　considered　for　a　moment。　Whoever　had　made　whom；　one　thing　was　certain：　now　she　had　the　place　put　away　in　her　pocket。
　　The　knock　had　been　repeated。　〃It's　probably　Seсor　Manning；　Maria；〃　she　called　out　to　her　maid。　〃Let　him　in。〃
　　She　heard　the　latch　go　back；　but　then　instead　of　the　maid's　usual　little　weling　remark；　there　was　a　shriek　of　mortal　terror；　a　scurry　of　footsteps；　and　the　fling　of　a　chair；　as　though　somebody　had　dropped　down　behind　it。
　　Kiki　turned　quickly　on　the　bench　she　had　been　occupying；　rose　questioningly。　Before　she　could　do　more　than　that；　it　was　upon　her；　she　had　seen　it　herself。　It　was　one　of　those　incredible　images　that　the　mind　disbelieves　in　even　at　the　moment　of　apparition。　It　was　a　head；　down　there　on　the　floor；　ing　through　the　open　doorway　at　her　from　the　outside　room。　The　head　of　something　or　other　was　the　best　she　could　do　to　identify　it　at　that　first　awful　moment；　some　member　of　the　cat　tribe；　leopard；　panther；　were　the　successive　labels　flashed　before　her　shell…shocked　mind。
　　It　was　black；　spade…shaped；　ears　wickedly　flat；　muzzle　to　carpet；　ing　in　fast　with　an　impression　of　zigzag　undulation。　That　was　all　she　waited　to　see。　Her　own　scream　slashed　out　to　join　the　maid's　and　she　turned　and　vaulted　lightly；　and　with　an　instinctive　agility　that　betrayed　the　dancer　in　her；　to　the　top　of　her　own　dressing　table。　Perfumes；　powders；　and　knickknacks　rained　down　all　around　her　to　the　floor；　including　a　little　toy　music　box　that　promptly　began　to　sound　off　a　tinkling　little　tune。　She　stood　there　aloft　in　flurried　motion；　skirts　clutched　nearly　at　her　thighs　and　waving　them　defensively　to　and　fro　to　ward　the　horror　off。
　　It　was　only　then　that　she　became　aware　of　the　muzzle　gripping　the　jaws；　the　taut　leash；　and　the　familiar　Middle　Western　face　of　Jerry　Manning　peering　blurredly　at　her　from　the　background。　Her　outcries　only　became　more　verbal；　not　less　vocal。　Between　them　was　the　graceful；　sinuous；　almost　snakelike　body　of　the　thing；　straining　forward　belly…low　against　the　leash；　powerful　shoulder　muscles　rippling　under　the　seal…smooth　black　fur；　tail　twitching　feverishly；　in　the　attempt　to　get　at　the　flutelike　music　box。
　　〃Get　it　out　of　here！〃　Kiki　wailed　in　high　C。　〃Manning；　what's　the　matter　with　you；　bringing　anything　like　that　in　here？〃
　　〃It　won't　hurt　you；〃　Manning　tried　to　reason　with　her；　pushing　his　Panama　farther　back　on　his　brow。　〃There's　nothing　to　be　afraid　of。　I　rode　all　the　way　in　with　it　just　now　in　a　produce　truck　myself。　It's　perfectly　tame；　it　was　raised　from　a　cub　by　a　guy　lives　outside　of　town。〃
　　〃Well；　what　do　you　bring　it　to　me　for？〃　She　had　stopped　screaming；　at　least。
　　〃I　thought　it'd　be　a　good　idea　for　you　to　show　yourself　with　it；　when　you　take　your　daily　outing　along　the　Alameda。〃
　　〃With　that？　Never！　Not　from　here　downstairs　to　the　front　door；　much　less　driving　along　the　Alameda！　Now　listen；　Manning；　I'm　getting　tired　of　your　brain　waves…〃
　　He　had　taken　time　off　to　light　a　cigarette；　using　one　hand。　〃Think　of　the　splash　you'll　make。　Just　step　out　of　the　car　with　it；　sit　down　at　the　Globo　for　a　Martini　for　a　few　minutes。　What's　there　so　hard　about　that？　I've　planted　photographers　all　around　there；　to　take　you　with　it。　I　can　get　you　the　whole　inside　spread　of　next　Sunday's　Grafico　on　it；　I've　got　an　in　with　old　man　Herrera。　Two　whole　pages　of　green　rotogravure　all　to　yourself。　Look；　here's　a　little　gold　whip　I　got　you　to　go　with　it。〃
　　〃You're　too　good　to　me；〃　she　said　sulkily。
　　〃It's　for　you；　not　me；〃　he　coaxed。　〃You're　opening　next　week。　The　Latins　like　their　stars　to　be　exotic。　You　want　your　show　to　be　a　hit；　don't　you？〃
　　〃I'd　also　like　to　be　still　in　it；　not　all　taped　up　in　some　hospital；〃　she　let　him　know。　〃I'm　set。　What　do　I　need　this　stuff　for　now？　In　the　beginning　it　was　different。〃
　　〃You're　never　set　in　your　business。　e　on；　Kick；　be　game。　Look　at　this；　watch　me　a　minute。〃　It　was　stretched　out　sidewise；　lazily　licking　one　paw。　He　bent　down　over　it；　gently　grazed　the　soft　fur　of　its　underside　a　few　times　with　a　hooked　forefinger。　It　promptly　rolled　over　on　its　back　with　typical　feline　coquetry；　lolled　there　four　paws　folded　in　air；　coyly　trying　to　kick　his　finger　away。　〃You　couldn't　ask　for　anything　tamer　than　that；　could　you？　e　on；　just　take　hold　of　it。　Try　it　out；　see　how　it　feels。〃　He　reached　for　her　reluctant　hand；　passed　the　looped　end　of　the　leash　over　her　fingers。
　　She　still　remained　up　on　the　table。　She　was　giving　in　by　unnoticeable　degrees；　however。　Her　skirts　had　fallen　back　to　normal　level。　She　was　holding　the　leash　by　herself　now；　he'd　taken　leave　of　it。
　　〃I'll　be　right　behind　you　in　a　taxi　the　whole　way。〃
　　On　this　one　point　she　was　adamant；　however。　〃Oh；　no；　you　won't。　You'll　be　riding　right　in　the　front　seat　of　the　car　with　me；　or　I　don't　leave　here　at　all。〃
　　He　had　saved　his　most　potent　argument　to　the　last；　the　one　he　knew　by　experience　would　persuade　her　if　anything　could　have；　he　must　have　been　something　of　a　shrewd　psycholo