Woman on The Run Page #5

but if he wants his ampoules, he'll have

to come out of hiding and get them.

What did you have for breakfast?

Cigarette and coffee?

- Cigarette.

- I thought so.

- Take us over to Lancey's on Powell.

- Lancey's? OK.

This place has the best waffles in

town. Butter in every little square.

View's always better on a full tummy.

- How about another one?

- Oh, no, thanks.

Now that I've got you softened up, Mrs. J,

there's something that I have to tell you.

You have to find your husband.

Oh, not for the money, I promise you,

or my story, but for yourself.

He's challenged you. You've got

to accept it or admit he's right.

I really would like to find him. If only

I could decipher the riddle in this letter.

Together we can do it.

That letter's like...

like drawing a graph.

One line is to trace

his movements from last night.

The other leads back into the past,

which you have to remember.

Where they cross,

that's where your husband is.

You need a manicure.

So I do.

You know,

this is the first time in my life

I ever insisted on helping

a woman find her husband.

That I believe.

By the way, what do people call you

besides Legget of The Graphic?

Oh, people who like me call me Danny Boy.

OK, Danny Boy.

Fisherman's Wharf.

Frank used to come here a lot.

I remember, once, he did

a watercolor of a boat.

A sherman admired it

so Frank just gave it to him.

Not to be outdone, the sherman

gave Frank a big swordsh.

I made a remark about the joys

of living by the barter system

and we had a bitter quarrel.

But it certainly wasn't the rst one.

Do you think Frank

was referring to a quarrel,

when he said, "where I rst lost you"?

What else?

Another started up here on Telegraph Hill.

Frank did a canvas of the harbor

from here that I thought was wonderful.

When I told him so, he insinuated

that my taste in art ran to calendars.

I said my taste was my own

and I wanted the painting.

So, he gave it to me,

but he signed it "Eleanor's husband".

Without telling him,

I entered it in a contest they were

having here at the art gallery.

The Oil by Eleanor's husband

won rst prize. Five hundred dollars.

But do you think Frank

was pleased when he found out?

Oh, no. He refused the money

and withdrew the painting.

Said he wasn't ready yet.

- Sounds pretty stubborn.

- Stupidly stubborn.

I wonder if he ever really

wanted to be successful.

Soon after that, he took the job

at Hart & Winston's.

You know, the only thing we know for sure

is that Frank was

at the Oriental Gardens last night.

While we're in the neighborhood,

let's drop in.

Yeah, he sat around the dressing room

until we came down to do

the one o'clock show.

Then he said he was

gonna make a phone call.

Then Frank wrote the letter.

He said to get in touch with you.

That he was gonna send the letter

to a store, care of Mr. Maibus.

Haven't I seen you some place before?

Shouldn't be surprised. I've been there.

But didn't he say what he was

going to do or where he might go?

I didn't want to pump him.

Say, why don't you try Sullivan?

Who's Sullivan?

He's a grand Mick.

Runs a bar across the street.

Come on, I'll show you.

You can go down the backstairs.

Now I know where I've seen you

before! Last night.

Sure, I was in with Mrs. Johnson.

No, I mean the picture that Frank drew.

Picture?

- What picture? Of me?

- Well, it looks something like you.

You know how Frank's

always drawing pictures.

- Did he say who this man was?

- No, no, he didn't.

I wonder if I should have

told the cops about it.

Oh, well, they'll be back.

The man that was in said so.

Suzie, quit yacking!

Uh... do you still have the picture?

Maybe I could run it in the paper.

Yeah, it's upstairs in my dressing

room. I'd better keep it, though.

Hey, Legget. Are you sure

you want to help find Frank?

Say, don't forget that plug in the paper

about us. We could sure use it.

OK, take it from the top.

I've got to go see our agent.

I've heard about this place for years.

Never been here before.

What'll you have, folks? You hungry?

Specialty today, corn beef

and cabbage or egg fu yung.

No food.

Gin on the rocks for the lady

and an old-fashioned for me.

I think I'll call a favor

and see if anything's broken.

You can get more out of him alone anyway.

- Say, why don't you wear a hat?

- I look funny in hats.

You know, you're right.

What is it?

No, I didn't drop a nickel.

Yes, Mrs. Johnson. Frank was in here

last night, just before closing time.

Did he say where he was going?

No, he didn't.

Just borrowed ten bucks is all.

Maybe I should tell you,

there was a couple of fellows in here

this morning, asking about Frank,

fellows that you couldn't very well

say, "Mind your own business" to.

Is he in some sort of trouble,

Mrs. Johnson?

Some. He didn't come home last night.

They're all alike. I've been

looking for mine for three years.

I'm glad I finally met you, ma'am.

I often wondered what kind

of a woman Frank was married to.

Not that I imagine

he was too easy to live with,

being so quiet and moody

and strange at times.

For instance, now, look at this picture.

Look at the date he put on it.

Frank painted this for me about six

months ago. It was on St Patrick's Day.

But look at the date on it.

March 17th, 1947.

Well, I suppose

it's an artist's privilege.

March 17th. That's Frank's birthday.

We spent the day on the beach

at Cypress Point.

Then we suddenly decided we had to

see the sunset from the top of the mark,

so we drove to San Francisco.

We had a car then.

We had champagne cocktails

and watched the sunset

over the Golden Gate.

After all, it was Frank's birthday

and St Patrick's.

We had a beautiful dinner at Andre's,

and Caf Diablo at Amigos.

Then we drove back to Carmel in

the softest moonlight I've ever known.

Ah, there's nothing like being

young and in love. And daft.

To boot.

- What?

- Daft, to boot.

Well, I guess people are entitled

to do crazy things on their birthday.

This year we didn't. I went to a movie.

Frank came down here

and painted that picture.

Now I know what Frank meant,

when he said someone should

have been in that picture with him.

I have a notion, if your husband

could have seen your face,

when you were telling about

that birthday party in 1947,

he'd have painted you right smack

in the middle of that picture,

with his arms around you.

Ah, sorry I was so long.

Oh, Mr. Legget of The Graphic,

Mr. Sullivan.

He's helping me look for Frank.

Hi. Freshen up a little, will you?

Hold the garbage.

- You?

- No, I'm fine.

- Get something?

- Something I hadn't counted on.

- What?

- Frank still loves me.

- That's a big help.

- I think so.

If it'll help any,

Frank asked me how early

the Army & Navy Store's open.

The one that's down on the Embarcadero.

Now he's getting smart.

He's changed his clothes.

What do you say we cover it?

Oh, I... I'm sorry I was so rude

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