From my cafe table across the street, I watch the entrance of the Sapphire Club. Just before ten, the dancers arrive, trickling in by ones and twos. The hulk at the door lets them in. Lily and Ginny arrive a few minutes later, exchange a few words with him, then vanish inside.
So, my way is clear.
Assuming there’s no roommate.
It doesn’t take long to reach Lily’s apartment. Some old bag carrying groceries gets me inside. I even get to climb the first two storeys with her as she rattles out some crap about her grandson never visiting.
It’s a cheap and nasty building full of cheap and nasty apartments. On the third floor, I pad along the corridor, the soles of my shoes peeling from the carpet with each step. Stale cigarette smoke hangs in the air, not quite masking the funk of second-han
