by Nick Carter
"Where did you park the car?" I asked Lisa, and laughed as I heard myself. It sounded as though we'd just come out of a neighborhood movie.
"Down the road," she said. "Come on, I'll show you.
I turned to Ben Mussaf. The Arab's fierce eyes were piercing but uncertain.
"I owe you my life," he said. "I am eternally grateful. I realize I am your prisoner, of course."
I'd been waiting for this moment to come up and I'd given it some fleeting thought. There were no real technical grounds on which to hold Ben Mussaf, though I was certain I could come up with something based on conspiracy, perhaps even accessory to murder. But that really wasn't important any longer. I'd made up my mind to let him go. It would show the West's magnanimity and willingness to forgive and forget. Mostly, though, it would be a lesson he would not soon forget.
"You are free to go," I told him. I saw his eyes deepen in surprise. "I suggest you pick your friends more carefully and for better reasons. You've been running around in the wrong company. There are some nice Jewish boys who live near you. Why don't you go play with them and become good neighbors?"
Ben Mussaf said nothing, but he got the message. He bowed, turned on his heel and walked away. I took Lisa's hand and we headed for the car. Dreissig's boys had all scattered to the winds by now. They were not worth trying to collect. Their kind would always be around, the alienated, willing to serve any master.
X
When we arrived at Lisa's temporary residence there was a note from her aunt on the table.
"Dear Lisa,
Frau Schutzen invited me to spend a few days in the country with her. When you did not return last night, I decided to go. I'll be back Friday afternoon, late.
Aunt Anna
"Do you have some place to stay?" Lisa asked shyly, giving me a sideways glance.
"Yes," I said. "Right here."
Her head went up and the cool, bemused expression surveyed me. "I have my misgivings about this," she said.
"Don't worry," I grinned down at her. "You'll be as safe as you want to be."
She thought that over and then accepted it. "I'm going to shower and clean up," she said. "I feel like a smoked ham."
"I'm next in line. While you're showering I'm going to call my boss in the States. Collect… don't get excited."
I watched her go into the bedroom, her breasts moving deliciously under the red jersey, unconfined by a brassiere. I sat down and put in a call to Hawk. I couldn't get through until after I'd showered and freshened up. Lisa had made the bed for me and fixed the couch for herself. We were arguing about who would take the couch when the phone jangled. It was the overseas operator with my call.
"The Arabs were financing Dreissig," I informed him. "In particular one Abdul Ben Mussaf."
"Were?" Hawk's flat voice came over. For someone who made it a policy to speak in a monotone he could put a lot of inflection in just one word.
"Were," I repeated. "Dreissig's dead and Ben Mussaf has picked up his marbles and gone home. Oh, one more thing," I said. "West Germany is going to be richer by about a million dollars in gold bars found on two barges on the Rhine."
"Good work, N3," Hawk said. "You've outdone yourself on this. You deserve a rest. Take tomorrow off. You can come back the next day."
"Tomorrow?" I exclaimed. "Don't spoil me. Three or four hours is more than enough."
Hawk's silence was voluble. "All right," he said. "When do you want to come back? When will you have enough of her?"
"This weekend and never, in that order," I said.
"All right, but be sure you're here Saturday. Or at your place, at least. I may have something important by then."
He clicked off and I turned to Lisa. "I have until Saturday. That's when I head back for the States," I announced.
"You head out of here Friday night," she said. "Before Aunt Anna comes back."
Lisa had a light blue lounging robe on, and from the way it fell, nothing else. With most girls, I'd have been able to get a lead by now. Lisa was impossible to figure. She was more than lovely, more than desirable. She was truly likable and her coming after me, though a misguided move, had been touching. I didn't want to ruin what was a damn nice relationship in an off-beat sort of way. I decided to be good and not run the risk of hurting her.
"You take the bed and I'll take the couch and no more arguing about it," I said. She got up and went to the bedroom. At the door, she paused and the robe fell open enough for me to see one long, lovely leg. I remembered the young-deer beauty of her as she ran across that grass — beauty in a moment of horror. "Good night, Nick," she said.
"Sleep tight, sweetie," I answered. She flicked the light off and the room was plunged into near darkness. Reflected light from the corner street lamp outlined the furniture in the room. I had closed my eyes and stretched out when I heard the door open and she was kneeling beside me. Even in the near darkness I could see she was serious, unsmiling.
"Who are you, Nick?" she asked quietly. "You've never really told me."
I reached out and pulled her closer. "I'm someone who'd like to kiss you," I said. "Who are you?"
"I'm someone who'd like you to kiss her," she said. Her arms were around my neck, and the robe parted. My hands found her breasts, upturned, young and eager. The pink tips rose up at once as my fingers caressed them and her lips were the same honey-sweetness I'd tasted before. Only now they were eager, yearning, pressing down on mine. Her shoulders were bare as the robe dropped off entirely and she pressed her breasts against me, still on her knees alongside the couch. I pulled her up and laid her long, lithe figure against me, fitting it into the hollows and curves of my body. She was hesitant at her lovemaking at first, but as I explored her body, her lovely, long legs parted and she turned to me for more. Her own hands began to caress, and her breasts thrust themselves up for my touch.
"Oh, Nick, Nick," she murmured. "Don't ever stop… not tonight, not tomorrow… not until you have to go."
I made love to her and she responded with the wonderful, willing, tender eagerness of the young. The second time she was equally willing, equally tender and wonderful. She had found a new freedom in herself and her caresses were lovely interludes of pleasure. We did get up to eat, but for the most part we stayed together in bed for the two-and-a-half days that were ours alone. Lisa's cool, delightful sense of humor was a wonderful added spice to our lovemaking. There was a sophistication about her that was unusual in a European girl, that assured independence that usually marked the American girl. But in bed, she was all tenderness, all willing desires, all pulsating hips and quivering pelvis.
Friday afternoon came much too soon. I dressed and made sure I'd be gone before Aunt Anna returned. I was really sorry I had. to leave her. It was fun to make love with a girl you could enjoy as a person as well as a bedmate.
"What plane are you taking tomorrow?" she asked at the door. I'd phoned reservations during one of the breaks in lovemaking. "The ten o'clock flight from Tempelhof," I said.
"I'll be there," she answered.
"You don't have to," I told her.
"Yes I do," she said, her eyes dancing.
I left, got a hotel room for the night and wished I could find a way to see Lisa again. I was up early and at the airport in plenty of time. It was crowded and it was getting dangerously near plane time when I saw her figure moving through the crowds toward me. She wore a lovely turquoise suit and had that air of insouciance about her.
"What happened?" I asked a little gruffly. "It's time for me to board."
"Unavoidable delays," she said, falling in step beside me. I handed my ticket to the purser and watched with a frown as she gave him a ticket.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Going home," she said, taking my arm and heading for the plane. I halted.
"Going home where?" I said, beginning to have a very strange feeling.
"To Milwaukee," she said coolly. "Come on, you're blocking the way."
I followed
her lithe, long shape up the ramp to the plane and inside. She sat down and patted the seat next to her.
"Wait a minute," I said. "What do you mean, 'Milwaukee'? You told me you were a German girl."
"I never said anything of the kind," she answered, her eyes disdainfully hurt that I should accuse her of such a thing. Thinking back, I couldn't remember that she ever had said so in so many words.
"I'm of German descent," she said. "And I was here visiting my aunt. You just assumed I'd come from Hamburg or Dusseldorf or some such city."
"I asked you where you learned so many American expressions," I said.
"And I told you. I see a lot of American movies."
"In Milwaukee."
"In Milwaukee."
"You said you learned your English in school."
"Absolutely correct," she said, flashing me a saucy, self-satisfied grin.
I sat down. "If there weren't so many people on this plane, I'd turn you over my knee," I told her.
"You can do it when we get to New York," she said, eyes cancing again. "I promise to cooperate. You can turn me any way you like."
I found myself grinning with her again. It was going to be a great flight back. The weekend suddenly looked pretty damn good, too.
