“That’s fine,” the voice said. “Because one time I was takin’ someone up to the second floor and he tried to throw us both down the steps. He ended up with a broken neck.”

“He was just plain stupid,” Corey said.

“He sure was,” the voice said.

They went up the stairs and the man increased the pressure of his hold. Corey found it difficult to breathe; the thick arms wrapped around his middle were like bands of metal crushing his ribs. He said to the man, “You ever move pianos?”

“Not lately,” the voice said.

“How much do you weigh?”

“Two-thirty. And it’s all rock, sonny.”

“That’s a sure bet,” Corey muttered. He grunted as the man applied more pressure. And then, with his eyes tightly shut, “Ease it, will you? You’re breakin’ me in half.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” the man said. He slackened the pressure a little. “You’re a high-priced item, sonny. This tag reads handle with care.”

They came to the top of the stairway. The man retained his hold on Corey as they moved along the second-floor hallway toward the back room where light showed through a crack in the door. Someone opened it and stood in the doorway. In the light flowing through from the bedroom, Corey recognized the man.

Corey said, “Hello, Creighton.”

“I told you before,” the colored man said, “my name ain’t Creighton.”

“You’re kidding,” Corey said.

“No,” the colored man said. He was taking all this very seriously. He had a gun in his hand, and he raised it a little so that it pointed at Corey’s abdomen. He said to the man who weighed two-thirty, “All right, let go of him.”

The big man released his hold on Corey. The colored man gestured with the gun, and Corey walked into the bedroom. It was brightly lit, the glow coming from an unshaded, hundredwatt bulb dangling on a cord attached to the ceiling. There was a single window in the room and the shade was pulled down. The floor was very dusty, littered with cigarette butts and beer bottle caps. A row of empty quart bottles lined the wall near the door. Set close to another wall there was a cot, a brassiere and panties on the cot; and on a shelf above the cot were some jars of face cream and deodorant, a large bottle of cologne and an expensive-looking bottle of perfume. In the middle of the room there were a few uncushioned chairs. In the far corner, Lita was smoking a cigarette and talking in low tones with Delbert Kingsley.

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

“Sit down,” the colored man said to Corey.