What's in It for Me? by Jerome Weidman

her.
    â€œOkay,” he said.
    But two or three blocks further on it occurred to me to glance at my watch. Ten minutes to twelve. That meant I’d get to the Bronx close to one o’clock in the morning. A nice picnic that would be, waking her up and starting explanations.
    â€œHey driver!” I yelled.
    This time he looked a little frightened when he turned around. I grinned at him reassuringly.
    â€œThe whole deal’s off,” I said.
    He began to look desperate.
    â€œWhat’sa matter now?”
    I wished I knew.
    â€œYou know where the Hotel New Bedford is?”
    â€œWhat are you doing, testing my memory or something? Sure I know where it is.”
    â€œAll right, take me to the New Bedford. And listen.”
    â€œYeah?”
    I grinned at him again.
    â€œDon’t stop or go any other place than the New Bedford no matter what I say after this. Just don’t pay any attention to me. Understand?”
    He nodded with a look of determination.
    â€œThe next stop, buddy,” he said grimly, “is the New Bedford.”

10.
    T EDDY WAS IN THE showroom with his bookkeeper and a couple of salesmen when I came in the next morning, but he got rid of them at once. He knew I didn’t like mobs.
    â€œHi, kid,” I said cheerfully, “how’s the boy?”
    â€œI’m all right,” he began. “But how’s—?”
    â€œFine.” I said. “Everything’s fine.” I peeled off my coat and leered at him wisely. “Well, Teddy, did you get in?”
    He looked puzzled.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œYou know,” I said with a wink. “Yesterday afternoon, when I arranged things for you the coast should be clear? When you came up the Montevideo just when I was leaving to go to the—?”
    â€œOh, that!” he said, looking a little embarrassed. “Why, we just went out to a matinee and—”
    â€œYeah, I know,” I said dryly. “She’s crazy about the theatre. Next time take her to the opera. She thinks she’s Caruso.”
    He glared at me and lit a cigarette to hide it. Then he picked up the Daily News Record and opened it to the Amusements page.
    â€œHere’s a little item,” he said. “You see this yet?”
    He pointed to a small box under the Kelcey Allen review. “Smile Out Loud,” it said, “the saucy musical that has been running along merrily for more than ten months at the Rector will close in six weeks, it was announced yesterday by A. Allen Samrock, business manager, thus rounding out a full successful year on Broadway.”
    â€œNo,” I said carelessly, “I didn’t see it. I been getting into some awful habits lately, Teddy. I been reading the Times every morning before the Daily News Record. Some dope, eh, Teddy?”
    â€œOh, the Times is all right,” he said.
    â€œWell,” I said briskly, “what do you say we get started? Those orders I spoke to you about on the phone yesterday.”
    I placed my notebook on the table and sat down.
    â€œAll right,” Teddy said. The enthusiasm in his voice would have done justice to a play reviewer. “Oh, by the way, Harry. Martha called you here a little while ago.”
    I glanced at him in surprise.
    â€œHere?”
    What was he looking so flustered about? A lot of people got telephone calls.
    â€œWell, yeah,” he said. “She said she called your office and they said you’d left but they said you were coming here first thing today, so she called you here and—”
    â€œAnd you just happened to take the call, right?”
    â€œYeah,” he said.
    â€œWell, thanks Teddy. I certainly appreciate it.”
    â€œShe left a message,” he said, “you should call her back at the apartment.”
    â€œOkay,” I said indifferently, without looking up. “Thanks. Come on, Teddy, let’s get started on these orders.”
    â€œAren’t