Kitty sat across from the big desk, plucking the red gloves from her fingers slowly. Her crossed legs gave Karl an unencumbered view and she smiled at his distraction.

"He definitely is against the idea while going along with it, but I think he could prove troublesome shortly." Kitty picked up her drink glass and held it to her lips.

"Is that what you learned from your bim dyke friend?" Karl handled his wolfhound's ear and it snapped at him.

"Mildred is not, as you so daintily describe, a dyke. And yes she is my bim. At least she doesn't treat me like he does you." A shoe came up pointing toward the dog.

"Fine, whatever you say. What else did you learn.?"

"Mildred is fine with the arrangement but she's right - or David Ashby is right - making huge cash deposits sets the bank's beezer twitching."

Karl shifted away from the growling hound and defensively lit a cigar.

"So what's she suggest?"

"Not dealing with Roland for one. He can only see dollar signs, and he's careless. You need your own bank, Karl, or at least a bank you can control."

". . . Yeah . . . yeah, that would be good. A bank I can control." He puffed on the cigar thoughtfully. "So, what about this Ashby, do we need to straighten him out?"

Kitty stood and gathered her things. "I think, if it isn't broke, don't fix it . . . yet."

"Okay. Tell Rose to get hold of Dennis on your way out. I want to talk about that bank idea." She smirked and told him he was welcome.

Karl made a face. "Thanks, Kitten. Get yourself some new shoes on me."

David left the bank feeling like a scolded child. This plan would never work. When Rolly issued a cheque for almost the entire deposit the bank would see another reason for a red flag. He chose to head home instead of going back to work.

The Model T rocked to a stop by the curb and David stepped out, handing the fare back through the window. He plodded up the front step and let himself in to the lobby. He paused and stared at his mailbox. The door had been pried open and it was left bent up at the corner.

Flashing back to the visit from the Russian sounding thug, he hurried up the stairs to his apartment. The door was closed but unlocked and inside it looked like a hurricane had blown through. Furniture was overturned, some with upholstery slashed open. Shelves were empty. Dishes broken in the sink. Nothing had been left undisturbed.

He sank down to the floor, one hand holding his forehead, the other supporting him from tipping over. His mind clamped onto Portia and her busy body meddling that led to this. Then he realized suddenly that she could be in danger and he rummaged through the debris for his telephone.

"Portia I didn't call to get advice, I was concerned about you."

"That's sweet, David but you should go to the police."

"You know, Portia you just don't live in the same world as the rest of us - Hagen owns half the police."

"How do you know it was him?"

"Two and two, for God's sake. You visit Garber with your little act. Garber's rube at Cardinal gets shot up, then this Russian palooka pays us a visit - threatening us that he would be back - and he did. My place looks like a bomb went off."

"Still, why Hagen?"

"Because he runs this town, Dee! It's all on account of the dirty money, which by the way I deposited today, making me a co-conspirator." For once David didn't get a snappy comeback and he spoke her name again to make sure she was still there.

"I'll get back to you, David."

"Portia–"

"I'm really sorry about your apartment." The line clicked off.

"Ellie, I need a favour."

"David? What's wrong, you sound terrible? Did you see Mildred?"

"Ellie listen, I need a place to stay for a day or two and I wondered if it could be at your place?"

"My place? Stay?" Silence crept into the line.

"I can explain. Can you leave a bit early and I'll meet you there?"

"David I- what is this about?"

"Please, El I really need this favour."

"Gee . . . okay I guess. I'll leave in about half an hour."

"Thanks, El. Thanks a million."

Ellie listened aghast as David told her about the visit from the heavy and the following extreme tossing of his apartment.

"I told you these were bad people, Ellie. I tried to convince your boss again and she just told me to do my job."

"What are you going to do?" She busied herself making up the sofa as a bed for his stay, fumbling with the sheets and crying in anger.

"I honestly don't know. I need time to think, away from business. I can't thank you enough for this El, I know it's a real inconvenience."

"I don't know how I'll face Mildred."

"El, don't breathe a word! This all has to stay quiet for now - you can't let on. Just stay quiet and you'll be fine."

She didn't speak as the import of the situation slowly sank in and she dropped onto the couch, looking frightened to death. David sat beside her and took her hands.

"El it's okay. Everything will be okay, I just need some time to get sorted." She nodded and gave him a brave smile. "Listen, do you know anything about a Kitty O'Halloran? I met her at Mildred's."

"I don't know the name but when I took that stuff I picked up that day we had lunch to her apartment, there was a woman there. She was wearing Fleurs d'Amour perfume, it was quite noticeable and it is very expensive."

"That was her, I smelled her perfume as well - it was strong. Is she ah . . ."

"I think so, she was also in a peignoir. But I don't think she lives there."

"Why?"

"Just a feeling."

"Do you think you could find out who she is?"

"What for?"

David told her about the shadow on the stairs when he left Mildred's and his suspicion that it was Kitty eavesdropping. Ellie said she would do what she could but right then she had to get back to work.

"You said a raise would shut him up." Mildred snapped her lighter shut and puffed mightily on her cigarette holder.

"He hasn't said anything or done anything. The first deal went through perfectly."

"Not perfectly, Roland, I had to make excuses to the bank manager after David came to me with his complaint. He was right thinking the bank would be hinky over a deposit that size in cash."

Rolly stabbed his letter opener into his desk top then threw it aside. "He gave me some drivel about that but I just told him to get it done. I didn't know he went to you. I'll just fire his ass."

"And who looks after the finances then? Both managers would be gone." Mildred marched around to the window, one hand in her pants pocket. "This wasn't well thought out, Roland."

"You agreed!"

"Yes, and now I'm having second thoughts."

"You can't! Not now. I have another deposit of sixty-thousand sitting in my desk drawer!"

"Speak to your man - Desmond or whomever. Get him to come up with a plan."

"It's Dennis and maybe- I don't think- I could introduce you and maybe . . ."

"Roland, you are a wimp - a greedy wimp."

"Still, it's worth a shot."

She fired the cigarette into his ashtray and gathered up her pocketbook. "You are a cowardly sap, Roland. I'll meet him but I'm not taking the fall for this if he doesn't agree."

"You won't, I promise."

Mildred made a spitting sound with her lips. "Set it up."

"I had a talk with the bank manager and I think we can be assured there won't be any questions about big cash deposits, but uh . . ."

"I don't pay you to keep bringing me problems, Creighton." Karl said suspiciously.

"It's Royce, he wants me to meet with Emanuel and discuss some uh- changes."

"What changes? We've already sent another sixty thousand deposit. Goddamit we have a deal now!"

"They want to change principles . . . Royce for Emanuel."

" Speak to the dyke then if that's what it takes. Make it clear we have a deal."

"I was wondering if maybe I could get Kitty to talk to her."

"I don't give a goddam how you get it done, just do it!" Hagen banged his hand hard on the desk and jumped back as his wolfhound snapped at him. "Jesus, Sanford! Down! Sit! Shut the–"

"I'll set something up right away." Dennis hurried from the room as the hound stood glaring at Hagen, and almost bumped into Kitty.

She stopped as Dennis bent over, hands on knees.

"I've never seen the great Dennis Creighton looking so flustered."

"I don't know who scares me more, Karl or the beast he keeps."

"Sanford? He's a pussycat."

Dennis groaned. "Listen, you're just the person I want to talk to."

"What about?"

"C'mon down to my office."