Jennifer walked up the stairs to the Washington Street apartment. The littered steps were stained and crumbling. The taxi driver had warned her to be careful in what apparently was referred to as the "Combat Zone". Indeed, she had almost lost her nerve and climbed back into the cab upon her arrival.
She rang the buzzer and several moments later, a short, round-faced woman came to the door. Her hair was streaked with gray and tied up into a bun. She smiled at Jennifer and gestured her to follow her up to the second floor.
"You must be the two o’clock," she said. "I’m Miss Baransky."
She took a set of keys out of her housecoat and opened a door. "Go on in."
Jennifer entered the sparsely furnished room, and looked over at the two young women sitting on the bed. They were dressed in low cut halter tops and short skirts.
"Hi ya," one of them smiled at Jennifer. "Don’t be shy. I’m Amanda and this is Kelly. We heard you asked for us personally."
Jennifer nodded and sat down in a chair. She looked at the girls carefully, figuring they were in their early twenties. Pretty girls, really, once you looked beyond the dime-store eye shadow and false eyelashes.
"I just wanted to talk to you," Jennifer said, taking a deep breath.
"Whatever you want. Just relax," Kelly spoke up. She looked Jennifer over, pleased to see that her clientele was improving. Occasionally, the girls had female clients, but never this sophisticated. "We’ll make you feel really good. But first," she said, putting out her hand, "you’ll need to pay up front."
Jennifer smiled slightly, took out a one hundred-dollar bill, and placed it on the small coffee table next to her. "I’m only here to talk, so you can relax too."
Kelly and Amanda exchanged surprised, yet suspicious glances.
"I want to know if you were with my husband last week," Jennifer said finally.
Kelly began to fidget. "Listen, lady, we don’t ask johns if they’re married. They come to us. We don’t know anything about their personal life."
Pulling out a fifty-dollar bill, Jennifer lied, "I just want to know what he likes…so that I can try to satisfy him in the same way." She placed it on the table, then pulled out a small photograph of Jonathan and showed the girls. They nodded.
"Yeah," Amanda said, "We remember him. Nice-lookin’ guy."
Jennifer felt her heart sink. Until now, she had held out the hope that somehow this was all a mistake.
"What else can you tell me about him?" Jennifer asked, still holding his photograph.
"Hey, are you a cop or somethin’?" Kelly asked, suddenly standing.
Jennifer shook her head and pulled out another photo – one of her and Jonathan together.
"Okay," Kelly said, sitting back down. "Well, he was fun…right Amanda?"
Amanda nodded. "Yeah, wore us out! We were going two hours straight. He likes it a little rough."
Jennifer nervously adjusted her blouse. "Did he say anything in particular to you?"
"Hmmm, he said he had been with us before, but we didn’t remember him. He just laughed at that," Kelly recalled.
"Was there anything else about him that comes to mind?" Jennifer said, getting up. She had had about all she could take for the afternoon.
"Not really, lady. He was like every other guy, ya know? He was just lookin’ for a little fun on the side, that’s all." They walked to the door.
"Do you remember which night last week that he was here?" Jennifer asked.
"Hmmm, I think it was Thursday night. Yeah, ‘cause that’s the night St. Elsewhere is on. I love that show," Amanda giggled.
As Jennifer opened the door to leave, Kelly suddenly recalled something. "You know what? He did say something when he left. Remember Amanda? He said he was going to be a rich man soon. Said he was expecting a windfall and that he would finally be living the good life."
Jennifer left the apartment building, mulling over Kelly and Amanda’s puzzling comments.
Dunning waited impatiently for Martin to return from the General Store. He wanted to drive into Boston and do some serious celebrating. Dunco Manufacturing had been named Hart Industries’ new supplier of electronics today and their stocks were soaring. Perhaps they could be rid of the real Jonathan Hart sooner than they had expected.
Finally, Martin returned with a paper bag filled with his candy and magazines. Such a small mind, thought Dunning, as he made his way up the stairs and out into the fresh air.
Martin opened the bag and threw Jonathan a Babe Ruth. "Enjoy," he said, as he tore into a Kit Kat.
Jonathan ate slowly, watching Martin from the corner of his eye. They ate in silence, and soon wrappers littered the floor.
"Ugh," Jonathan sighed, "I must’ve eaten six of those things."
"Yeah? I bet I could finish the rest in ten minutes," Martin said, chuckling out loud. He loved a good bet.
"No way," Jonathan challenged. Martin promptly began slobbering down the remaining Hershey’s.
Freeway had moped around the house all day. No matter what Max had tried, nothing seemed to cheer him up. He even brought out a brand new pair of slippers for him to chew on, but Freeway was not interested.
"I know, you miss Mrs. H," Max said, patting the mutt. "She’ll be home tomorrow."
The kitchen door swung open and the man entered, grinning broadly.
"Max, old boy, how are you doing today?" he said, stuffing a Toll House cookie into his mouth.
"Okay, Mr. H," Max answered curtly. Max had never been annoyed with Jonathan like this before. But, Jonathan’s attitude lately, and the way he was treating Mrs. H was beginning to anger him.
"Mr. H, can we talk?" Max asked.
"Yeah, sure, Max, what’s up?" he said gingerly, dismissing the seriousness in Max’s voice.
Max looked him directly in the eye. "We’ve known each other a long time, and I’ve never had reason to say anything about your attitude – not since you were just a punk," Max began, "but over the last week, you’ve been a different person around here. Do you know how upset Mrs. H is?"
The man gave Max a look of warning. "Max, I appreciate your concern, but Jennifer is just a little sensitive these days. She’ll get over it."
"Just remember, she’s the best thing that ever happened to you," Max said seriously.
"Max, she’s one of the best things that ever happened to me…only one of the best," he said with a cryptic laugh.
Max stared directly into the man’s eyes. Suddenly, he did not recognize the man he had practically raised. Freeway began to whimper.
"Hey, Freeway, how about you and I going for a ride in the Bentley?" the man asked, changing the subject. Freeway covered his face with his paws.
The man scooped the dog up in his arms and carried him to the door.
"We won’t be gone long, Max. Have supper ready in about an hour!" he said, closing the door behind him.
Max clenched his teeth. Something was terribly wrong…terribly wrong.
