So Nude, So Dead by Ed McBain

breasts.
    “Babs?”
    “Ummm?”
    “Babs, please listen to me.”
    She turned, opened her eyes. She wore no makeup, and she looked young, protected by the sleepy veil that clung to her features. She smiled, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. “Hello, Ray darling.”
    She lifted her arm, rested it on his shoulder.
    “Babs, I’m going out for a walk. I’ve got to take a walk.”
    She was wide awake instantly. She sat up abruptly. “What?”
    “I’m going downstairs. I feel trapped here. I’ve got to walk a little.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, walked to the chair and began dressing. She pulled her knees up against her chest, folded her arms around them, sat watching him silently as he dressed.
    “Is it very bad?” she asked at length.
    “Yes. It’s very bad.”
    “Poor baby.”
    “It’ll pass,” he said tersely. “Until the next time.”
    “How does it feel, Ray?”
    “Oh, for Christ’s sake!”
    “I’m sorry, honey. I just thought I might be able to help.”
    “No, there’s nothing you can do. Not unless you’ve got a deck of heroin with you.”
    “I’m sorry, darling.”
    “Don’t worry about it, for Christ’s sake.” He was beginning to be annoyed by her voice, and by the silly things she was saying. She was starting to sound the way Jeannie did long ago, the same half-pitying, half-criticizing quality in her voice.
    She got off the bed and came to him as he pulled on his shirt. She stood very close to him.
    “Are you sure I can’t help?”
    “Yes, I’m sure.” He buttoned the shirt. If he didn’t get out of here soon he was going to bust wide open.
    Her voice lowered. “Are you really sure?”
    Viciously, he pushed her aside.
    “Leave me alone!” he shouted.
    “Ray!” She drew back as if he’d slapped her, and he saw the sudden hurt look in her eyes.
    “Just leave me alone. There are some things that even a woman can’t solve!”
    She walked to the window while he finished dressing, the lights from the street below casting a red and green glow on her body.
    He didn’t bother with his tie. He pulled on his jacket and stuffed the wrinkled tie into one of the pockets. He left his collar unbuttoned. He was shivering now, even though he felt warm all over.
    “I’m going,” he said.
    She turned. “You’ll be back,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
    “Do you want me to come back?”
    “Yes. Oh yes, yes.”
    “All right,” he said. He wondered if he should go over and kiss her. A spasm shivered up his back, and his hands started trembling.
    He walked out of the bedroom, through the foyer, and out of the apartment.
    When he reached the street, it hit him in the gut with the force of a sledge hammer. He doubled over on top of a garbage can, waiting, praying that the pain would subside.
    When it passed, he was breathing hard, and his face was bathed in sweat. He struggled to his feet, breathed deeply, the restlessness stirring deep within him.
    He began walking then.

Chapter Ten
    The rain began at four-twelve. It was a light drizzle at first, fine and cutting, driven by a strong wind. It lashed into his face as he walked, leaving his cheeks raw and cold, It penetrated his jacket, seeped into the collar of his shirt. The streets were almost empty, and they grew slick with the fine spray of the rain.
    And then it began in earnest. Jagged streaks of lightning ripped their way across the sky, glaring white against the blackness. The thunder roared its hollow song, and the rain came down in huge drops, pelting the street, pattering on the pavements in furious accolade.
    He lifted the back of his collar, dug his hands into his pockets. Tilting his head against the onslaught of water, he kept walking.
    There was a fury to the sudden storm that matched the restless seething within him. Each thunderous boom found a responsive echo in his chest. Each twisted crackle of lightning tore through his nerves. He walked, and the thunder rolled overhead, and the lightning