Death of a Citizen

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Death of a Citizen Page 10

by Donald Hamilton


  The dress we got was sexy all right. She modeled it for me again that evening while I was tying my tie. It was soft, white wool, with a high neck and long sleeves. I put the mink about her, turned her around, and looked her up and down. She didn’t seem to have much slack.

  “Can you walk,” I asked, “or should I get a bellboy with a dolly and have him trundle you to the elevator?”

  She laughed. “It is better than those jean pants, hein? Now you may kiss me, but do not muss me—that we will save for later. First we will eat and get comfortably drunk. What is the name of this place you were told about?”

  “I’ve got it written down,” I said. “Don’t ask me to pronounce it. I never could handle French gracefully, not even when my life depended on it, and that was quite a while ago… Tina?”

  “Yes, chéri?”

  “Did you get the impression we were followed this afternoon?”

  She glanced at me. “I do not think so. It was hard to tell, walking, with all the traffic. If it was done, it was done well, by many different people. Did you see anyone?”

  I shook my head. “No familiar faces. Well, maybe they’ve been called off. I wonder…”

  She patted my cheek. “Wonder tomorrow. Not tonight. This is a nice town and we are going to have a fine time.”

  “Sure,” I said. “But I could relax a lot better if Mac would turn up and give me the answer to a few simple questions.”

  The recommended place turned out to be small and exquisite and very, very French. They provided setups for the whiskey I’d brought along in a paper-wrapped bottle, Texas style. If you spent a lot of time in the state, I reflected, it would almost pay you to invest in a flask. I learned that Tina had developed into quite a gourmet since I’d last known her. She went into a huddle with the waiter, the head-waiter, and the wine steward, all of whom loved her because she could speak perfect French—and, of course, the fact that she wasn’t bad to look at in that white dress didn’t turn them against her. They settled upon roast capon with mushrooms. A capon, I gathered, is to a rooster what a steer is to a bull. In theory, it hardly seemed worth while to go to all that trouble for a mere chicken; in practice, the idea proved to have a lot of merit. The wine, I was told, was a special vintage from a certain great year, I forget which one. All in all, it was quite a production, and one that threw some doubt on my mental picture of Texans as a people living exclusively on tough range beef. To be sure, the stuff was being cooked and served by Frenchmen, but the natives around us seemed to be putting it down with enthusiasm.

  We’d arrived in a taxi, since it seemed simpler and more elegant than getting the truck out of hock. Riding back, we did not speak for a while. Then I wriggled uncomfortably.

  “What is the matter, Liebchen?”

  “This damn big bottle,” I said, pulling it out of my coat pocket. I laid it aside. Then I turned and drew her to me and kissed her hard.

  Presently—but not immediately, by any means—Tina made a small sound of protest and drew away.

  “Please, darling!” she whispered breathlessly. “Remember that you must leave me in condition to walk through the lobby of that respectable hotel past all those respectable people!”

  I said, “The hell with respectable people. Let’s tell the guy to drive through the park for a while. They’ve got to have a park in this town, somewhere.”

  I was kidding, I guess, but with whiskey and wine to encourage me, I don’t suppose I’d have backed down if she’d agreed, even though the back seat of a taxi would surely have cramped my style. She hesitated a moment, considering the idea with real interest; then she laughed, took my face in her hands, kissed me on the mouth, and pushed me away.

  “Ah, we are not children,” she said. “We have the dignity and the self-control. We can wait a few minutes. Besides, I do not really think there is room here.”

  I grinned, and she laughed again, and raised herself from the seat so that she could tug her dress down where it belonged. She rearranged her furs, and drew me close to her. “It is not so far now,” she said. “Eric.”

  “Yes.”

  “I waited for you. After the war. Why did you not come?”

  I didn’t answer at once. Then I said, “I could lie and say I couldn’t make it because I was in the hospital. But it wouldn’t be true.”

  “No,” she said. “You met a girl, did you not. And she was sweet and soft and innocent, and she had never seen a dead man, except perhaps in an antiseptic hospital bed.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “And I told Mac I was quitting, and I married her and deliberately put it all behind me, you with the rest.”

  “Yes,” she said. “It was what you should have done. It was what I would have wished for you, my dear. And now I have spoiled it.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But you had some help from me.”

  She was silent for a while. Presently she took out a handkerchief and turned my face towards her and scrubbed my mouth. Then she took out comb and lipstick and worked on herself for a while. She held the purse up a little longer, studying the mirror.

  “I wonder,” she said, “if you had come for me… Well, it is no use wondering, is it?”

  “Not much,” I said.

  She said, “You know, of course, that we are being followed again.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’ve been watching him in the driver’s mirror.” I glanced at the headlights reflected in the rectangle of glass up forward. “I’d say they’ve been giving us a little leeway, hoping to throw us off guard. Now they should be about ready to close in.”

  19

  The car that had been following us went on when we made the turn for the hotel entrance. It was the jeep station wagon we’d met before, or its twin sister.

  “They’re playing this real cute. Now you see them, now you don’t,” I said, getting out and turning to help Tina to the sidewalk. “Somebody’s being too clever for words.”

  “It would seem so, chéri,” Tina said. She smoothed down her dress. “It is a pity I look so much better in narrow skirts,” she said. “They are such a nuisance when one has to run or fight… Eric.”

  “Yes?”

  “If something should happen. If we should become separated now, in one way or another—”

  I glanced at her sharply, wondering what she had in mind. “Don’t get corny,” I said.

  “No. Let me say it. There may come a time when you will hate me for what I have done to you. Just remember, my dear, that I had no choice. None of us has a choice. Not really.”

  Her violet eyes were dark and grave and very lovely; but it seemed, on the whole, like a hell of a time for deep thoughts.

  “Yes,” I said, after a moment. “Sure.” I remembered the taxi driver, and turned and paid him. As he drove off, I swung back to Tina. “Well, we can’t stand here all night… Damn!”

  “What is it?”

  “I forgot that lousy bottle.” The cab was just turning the corner. I sighed and let it go. “Well, there’s a taxi driver who ought to have a happy night,” I said, and accompanied Tina across the sidewalk towards the hotel doorway. “Just one thing, sweetheart. One question.”

  “Yes?”

  “Which of us calls the signals if something breaks?”

  She hesitated. “You may call them, Eric.”

  “All right,” I said. “You’ve said it. Now keep it in mind and don’t get independent.” I laughed suddenly. “You know something, it occurs to me that we’re almost legitimate, for a change. It’s the first time I’ve ever been in a spot like this when I could even consider calling on the local police for help.”

  Tina smiled and shook her head. “I do not think it would be a very good idea. I do not think Mac would approve. He does not like explaining our activities to unsympathetic policemen more frequently than is absolutely necessary.”

  I said, “Well, if the party gets rough, he may have to do some explaining whether he likes it or not. I’m not going to stand still for being shot or be
at up just to save him a little breath… Watch it now!” I breathed. “Eyes front, honey. Laugh and be merry.”

  We were inside, entering the lobby. It was the usual great, pillared, carpeted hall sprinkled with groups of chairs and sofas that, although similar in design, did not seem to have been formally introduced to each other. One wall was glass, looking out upon a patio with dense, flood-lighted, tropical vegetation. Here and there were the lobby-sitters you find in any hotel at practically any hour of the day or night. Why they choose to read their books and newspapers in a drafty lobby instead of a comfortable hotel room I couldn’t tell you. Maybe they’re all waiting for someone, but if so, why doesn’t that person ever show up?

  None of the characters I could see sitting around was a day under fifty, except one. I laughed and put my arm about Tina’s waist as we started down the long room. Her answering laughter was a little slurred, and she leaned against me, as if for support.

  “Where?” she asked softly.

  I laughed again, as if she had suggested something immoderately funny. “Second sofa on the left, looking out towards the patio. Female, young, close to six feet tall, light brown hair, brown tweed suit.”

  “How can you tell how tall she is, Liebchen, when you can only see the back of her head?”

  “We’ve met her before, with an Ivy-League-looking punk in a golf cap, driving a little Blue British Morris with a funny sign on the back. Remember, the restaurant where you made your call to Mac? They were just coming out the door as I went in. You were heading for the phone booth, maybe you didn’t notice them.”

  Tina giggled in an inebriated way that contrasted strangely with her calm voice: “I did not, but I will take your word.”

  “She might just be here to keep an eye on us,” I said, “but I’ve got a hunch she’s the finger. Five gets you twenty that as soon as we’ve turned the corner she’ll head for the house phones to let them know we’re on the way up.”

  “Then you think they’re waiting for us up in the room?”

  “It seems likely.”

  She hesitated. “So?”

  I kissed her on the ear as we walked. “So, we should have made love in the taxi like I said. Looks like we’re going to be a little too busy now.”

  She laughed softly. “I do not think you have your mind concentrated on important things.”

  I said, “With you practically crawling into my pants pocket, how can I?” I drew a long breath, and let the kidding go. I said, “Let’s give them a surprise. I’m tired of being the mouse end of this cat-and-mouse routine.”

  “Eric, we are not supposed to make unnecessary trouble.”

  “What’s unnecessary? Something’s cooking. I don’t like to play other people’s games.”

  She leaned her head sleepily on my shoulder as we walked along the soft carpet, close together, “You are sure of this girl?”

  I said, “It’s the same girl. It could be coincidence, running into her again.”

  “If she uses the telephone, that will be confirmation.”

  “She’s not going to use the telephone,” I said. “She’s not going to get anywhere near a telephone. We’re taking her now.”

  We were passing the back of the girl’s sofa; I could have reached out with my left hand and patted her smooth brown hair. She was engrossed in a copy of Harper’s. She wasn’t watching our reflections in the glass wall in front of her, of course. She had no interest in us at all, but I was willing to bet that, no matter how well they’d trained her, she felt a little crawling sensation at the back of her neck as we went past. Only we didn’t go past.

  We walked around the end of the sofa and stopped in front of her. “Why, hello, there!” I said cheerfully.

  She did it very well. She looked up casually, decided that I must have been addressing somebody else since she didn’t know me, and looked, back down at her magazine. Then she looked up a second time, with a puzzled frown.

  “I beg your pardon.”

  She was really quite nice-looking, in a tall and tweedy and young sort of way, and, although she was a much bigger girl, she still reminded me obscurely of Beth. She was still wearing low-heeled shoes, I noticed, but her long legs were fine, nevertheless. She had the lean, clean look of a good photographer’s model. To read, she had put on glasses with thick, dark rims. She took them off now to look at me.

  “I beg your pardon?” she said again, making a question of it this time.

  Tina was already sitting on the sofa beside her, and Tina’s hand had slipped into the secret pocket of the mink stole. I didn’t like that too well. This was no place for firearms.

  Tina said, “You didn’t tell us you were coming to San Antonio, dear.”

  I said, “We’ve got to celebrate this reunion. I’d say the bar, if we weren’t in Texas, and if I hadn’t left our bottle in the taxi. But there’s still part of a fifth in my suitcase upstairs.”

  “Well, that’s all right,” Tina said. She spoke to the girl. “You will join us in a drink up in our room, won’t you, dear?”

  The girl’s face was blank. “I’m sorry. There must be some mistake.”

  I was sitting on her left now. I took my hand out of my pocket. The knife made a small click as I opened it. The girl looked down quickly. I drove the blade into her side, holding it with thumb and forefinger to measure the proper depth: just enough to penetrate clothing and skin and an eighth to a quarter of an inch of flesh. Her eyes went wide, her mouth opened, and her indrawn breath was a soft, hissing gasp. She made no other sound.

  “Just a short one,” I said. “For the road.”

  “Who are you?” she whispered, holding herself rigid and unmoving, braced against the pain of the knifepoint in her side. “What do you want?”

  I said, “We’re just some people who want you to have a drink with us, up in our room.”

  “But I don’t understand—” Her eyes were hurt and bewildered and scared. She was very good. She licked her dry lips. “I’m sure,” she said, “there must be some terrible misunderstanding.”

  “Not yet,” I said. “But it could happen any time. I might even get the idea you were refusing to cooperate, even though you had no such thought in mind. That would be too bad, wouldn’t it? Let’s go, Shorty.”

  We had no trouble at all. The elevator was on the ground floor when we reached it, and the attendant took us up without giving us a second look.

  “All right,” I said to the girl, as the doors closed behind us and the cage went up to answer a call at another floor. “All right, no more knives, Shorty. There are two guns behind you now. You can turn your head and check this if you like.” She hesitated, and looked around slowly. Her glance moved from Tina’s little Browning to my Colt .22 to my face.

  “What—” She licked her lips again. “What do you want me to do?”

  I said, “It’s entirely up to you. We’re going to room 315, down the hall to the left, there. You’re going to open the door and walk in. If you want to knock a certain way, first, that’s all right. If you want to say something to whoever’s inside, that’s all right, too. But you’re going in ahead of us, and the first shot that’s fired, if anything at all happens, will be me shooting you.”

  “What makes you think there’ll be somebody in your room? What in Heaven’s name makes you think I—”

  I said, “If I’m wrong, I’ll certainly apologize all over the place later.”

  “But I swear to you, I don’t know anybody in San Antonio except my husband. I was waiting for him to join me when you came along!” The tears in her eyes were as real and as perfect as diamonds. “You’re making a terrible mistake!”

  I said, “So, if I’m making a mistake, there’ll be nobody in the room, and nobody’ll get hurt. Let’s go find out, shall we?”

  She started to speak, but checked herself, and drew a long, uneven breath, and turned away from me. We went around the corner and down the hall. Tina was beside me. The girl walked, very straight, before us. She stopped at t
he door.

  “You said… you said 315?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Give her the key, Tina.”

  Tina put the key into her hand. “Eric, are you sure—”

  “Who’s sure?” I said. “Tomorrow, the sun may rise in the west.”

  The girl said, “You want me to open the door?”

  “That’s the idea,” I said. “But any signals or countersigns you want to give first—”

  “Oh, stop it!” she cried. “You sound like a bad movie! You sound like… I don’t know any secret signals, I assure you! Shall I open it or not?”

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Open it. Walk straight in. You can’t throw yourself aside fast enough that I’ll miss you with my first shot. It’s been tried.”

  She said, breathlessly, “I haven’t the slightest intention of making a sudden move, so please be careful with that trigger… Well, here I go, if you’re quite ready.”

  I didn’t say anything. She hesitated, clearly hoping I’d speak again to delay the moment; then she sighed and put the key into the lock. As she turned it, I reached past her with my foot and kicked hard. The door slammed back. I had the girl by the collar of her tweed jacket. I shoved her straight forward. She was a nice-looking kid, but if anybody was going to get shot, it wasn’t going to be me, if I could help it.

  There were no shots. The room was empty.

  I pushed the girl away from me so hard that she stumbled and had to cling to the foot of the nearest bed to keep from falling. I swung around so that I could cover the bathroom, but the door was open there; it was a small place, and I could see that there was nobody inside. I heard Tina move behind me.

 

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