The Shadowers mh-7

by Donald Hamilton

"Oh, I'm sorry," she gasped, freeing herself.

  Braithwaite was returning. She went to him quickly, pulled herself together, and answered his puzzled question with a laugh and a shake of the head. I sat down. Olivia was staring grimly at her glass.

  I took a drink from mine, standing there untouched, and said, "You were a little tough on the kid, weren't you?"

  "Kid?" she snapped. "They're all kids to you, aren't they, Paul? But if she's really the innocent child she pretends, would she flaunt her pectoral development like that? If it's really hers, and particularly if it isn't."

  "Pectoral," I said. "I'll have to remember that. When I was a boy, we simply called them boobs. Pectoral development sounds much more refined."

  Olivia looked up. After a moment she laughed. Braithwaite was leaving, taking with him the nurse and his tender conscience. I'd had one once, I remembered-a conscience, I mean-but I'd managed to lose it somewhere. At least I'd done my best to. In this business a conscience buys you nothing but trouble.

  XVII

  "THERE'S the bridge," Olivia said. "Are we driving over to the island?"

  I looked at the long causeway ahead, then glanced at the rearview mirror. It was quite empty, as far as significant images were concerned.

  "There's no point going out there and getting our shoes full of sand if nobody's interested," I said, pulling out where we could see the water. "Of course, Kroch could still be tailing us, but I don't have quite the right itch between my shoulder blades. I think, now that he's got you established in Pensacola again, he's let you go for a little, figuring he can always pick you up at the house or the naval base."

  She shivered slightly. "When he wants me," she murmured. "When he gets his orders to kill me. It's like living in a different world, knowing there are men like that."

  "Yeah," I said. "We affect people adversely, we professionals. Why, some girls won't even be seen talking to us."

  She said quickly, "I didn't mean-"

  "I know what you meant."

  "You're not like Kroch."

  I said, "Cut it out, Doc. How do you know? You've never spoken to Kroch except for a moment in your hotel room when he was holding a gun and doing most of the talking. You've never been to bed with him. Hell, he might be a perfectly swell guy in bed. How do you know?"

  She said stiffly, "That isn't funny; and you're being ridiculous, comparing yourself with a thug like that."

  I said, "You're the one who's being ridiculous, Doc. You're trying to make a fine moral distinction between a man you happen to dislike and a man you happen to like

  – if I may flatter myself-both of whom happen to be engaged in exactly the same type of work."

  She was silent for a little; then she smiled and said, "Well, have it your way. I'm married to a monster without any relieving traits."

  "That's what I'm trying to tell you," I said. I looked out over the water at the low black mass of land at the end of the bridge. "Give me the details. What's it like out there? I've seen it from the air, that's all."

  She'd have preferred to keep the conversation personal, I saw, but she said, "It's a narrow barrier island, just a sandspit, running parallel to the coast a mile or so out. To the west, the right as you come off the bridge, it extends only a few miles. There's an old brick Civil War fort at that end, and some deserted concrete structures that used to house big coast-defense guns-relatively modern, I believe, but the guns have been removed. That end of the island is a state park. The other way, eastwards, to the left as you come off the bridge, there's a little beach community and then nothing much but road and sand dunes for thirty-some miles. Another bridge over there brings you back to the mainland. The island goes on to the east still farther, I think, but I've never been there."

  "You draw a good picture, Doc," I said. "Very sharp and clear."

  "I ought to," she said. "It's part of my job to make things sharp and clear." After a little, she said, "If we're through here, I'd like to go home."

  "Sure."

  I started the car and drove slowly back through town. The housing development in which she lived had the clean, phony look of a movie set before the crew has got it convincingly weathered and dusty. I parked in front of her house.

  "Paul," she said as I started to get out.

  "Yes?"

  "The divorce," she said. "I hate to be practical, but just how will it be arranged?"

  "The legal department will take care of it." I guess I hadn't expected her to bring up the subject, although there was no reason why she shouldn't. "They're very efficient," I said. "They'll discover that we're absolutely incompatible, or something. Okay?"

  "Don't be angry," she said. "I just wanted to know."

  "Who's angry?"

  "You sounded annoyed." She hesitated. "If it will make you feel better, I can tell you that I don't feel very in-compatible." She glanced at me quickly and looked away. "In fact if… It's a brazen thing to say, I suppose, but I'm rather tired of pretending to be discreet and modest. If you would care to try to work something out without the legal department, afterward, the lady might be willing."

  I looked at her, and closed the car door I'd just opened. I started to speak. She shook her head quickly.

  "No, don't say anything and don't stare at me, please. This isn't a declaration of undying love, Paul. All I'm saying is that you seem to be a reasonably civilized person in spite of your weird occupation. Maybe you'd like to have a secret home base, a place to rest between assignments, under a name that isn't yours, a name like Corcoran, say. As for me, well, my one amorous adventure didn't turn out very well and I have a full time occupation that really interests me very much. Still, I.

  well, let's just say I wouldn't mind having you around the house occasionally. It might be a very practical arrangement for both of us." She shook her head again as I tried to interrupt. "No, I don't want you to say anything now. I just wanted to place my attitude on record. Anyway, I think the telephone is ringing."

  I started to speak again, but now I could hear the bell, too, through an open window. I drew a long breath, then got out and followed her up the walk to the door and waited while she found the key to let us in. She went quickly to the phone. I saw her face go pale as she listened. She looked at me, muffling the mouthpiece with her hand.

  "It's a man. I… I think I recognize the voice. But he wants a Mr. Helm, a Mr. Matthew Helm. Is that you?"

  I sighed. It had been lots of fun playing house, but you've got to grow up some time and face the realities of the big cruel world.

  "That's me," I said and took the phone from her. "Corcoran here," I said. "Helm, if you prefer."

  "Good evening, Eric," Kroch's voice said in my ear.

  I knew it was his voice although I'd never heard it. That seemed strange. I felt as if I'd known him for years.

  "So you know the code name, too," I said. "Hurray for you."

  "I'm Kroch," he said. "Karl Kroch. But you know. The little girl told you."

  "She told me," I said.

  "I have her here," he said. "Miss Antoinette Vail."

  The house seemed suddenly chilly, perhaps because of the open window. I said "Jesus Christ, has that stupid little chick gone and got herself loused up again? I tell you what you do, Kroch, just tie a good big rock around her neck and throw her off the nearest pier as a favor to me. Okay?" I saw Olivia's eyes widen, shocked.

  "Very good, Eric." Kroch laughed softly in my ear. "Very good. That is the proper reaction. I am to think Miss Vail means nothing to you, hem?"

  I said, "Hell, I never saw her before the other night. What's she supposed to mean?"

  "If you're willing to sacrifice her, of course, there is no more to be said. But if you are not… Do you know Santa Rosa Island? Of course you do. You were just looking at it across the water."

  So the itch between my shoulder blades had let me down. I said, "A man stops to look at the water and talk to his wife. Big deal. And what's with this sacrifice bit? I told you, the kid's nothing to
me. I needed a dame, or thought I did, so I picked her up at the bar. That's all. And I've been at this work too long to stick my neck out for innocent bystanders, Kroch. She's all yours. If you're hungry, stick an apple in her mouth and roast her."

  He laughed again. "Ah, but it is nice to deal with someone who knows how the game should be played! You make me very happy, Eric. Now, what do you say? It is the logical place to finish this, out there, is it not? Very quiet, very lonely. Turn right as you leave the bridge. You will come to a gate house. There is a chain across the road there; the state park is closed at night. Leave your car by the little house and walk down the road. Or crawl through the sand or sneak through the bushes. I will be waiting. I will not be foolish enough to tell you to come unarmed. Bring all the weapons you wish. You will, anyway."

  I said, "I told you, I've lost no little girls. She's all yours. What do you think I am, some kind of a Galahad or something? Cut her into little pieces and use her for bait."

  Kroch laughed approvingly. I was still playing the game right. "The man, too?" he asked.

  "What man?"

  "There was a man in the car with Miss Vail. I was watching your house when the two of them drove up. I had no use for the man, but what could I do but bring him along? His name is Mooney. He has a big mouth. It has already got him shot once today; it could get him killed. Your little girl has a big mouth, too, but I will try to let you see her once more. I have a tender heart. Would you like to hear her voice?"

  I didn't say anything. I heard a scuffle at the other end of the line; then Antoinette Vail was speaking breathlessly in my ear: "Mr. Corcoran, don't come, he'll kill you! Don't listen-"

  Her voice was cut off. Kroch came back on. "That's right, Mr. Corcoran. If you come, I will kill you. Unless of course you kill me. Why don't you try?"

  XVIII

  THE APARTMENT building in which Dorothy Darden lived was only a few blocks from the center of town. The red Austin-Healey sports job was parked at a meter up the street. I shoved Olivia out on the sidewalk, joined her and took her arm when she threatened to balk again. One day I'll do a job with a woman who has more sense than temperament. I'd thought that Dr. Olivia Mariassy, with her scientific background, might turn out to be the one. I'd been wrong.

  "Just follow instructions like a good girl or I swear I'll bust you one," I said. "We haven't time for personalities."

  She said, "I'm not going up there! I won't stay in the same place with that blonde tramp! I'd much rather be killed!"

  "Nobody's interested in your 'druthers,'" I said. "Sorry, Doc, but that's the way it is. You go in there with your teeth or without them. Take your choice."

  "You… you dictatorial beast!"

  "Monster was the word we settled on," I said. "You'll go in and you'll ring the way I told you. Braithwaite has his orders concerning you. You may have a little wait while they get some clothes on and some lipstick off, depending on what stage in the proceedings you interrupt."

  "Damn you, Paul-"

  "Shut up," I said. "Listen closely. You'll tell Braithwaite that I'm going out to the island. Tell him that Kroch has the Vail kid and Dr. Mooney and is using them for bait, that tired old gag. I'm to turn right beyond the bridge, leave the car at the entrance to the park, and proceed on foot. Kroch will be waiting. He thinks he's Jim Bowie or something. He's in effect challenged me to single combat out on the sands. Maybe he really is nuts. Anyway, tell Jack Braithwaite, if he doesn't hear from me in an hour, he's to call in the team-he'll know what I mean-and come after me. When somebody says an hour, Doc, you look at your watch."

  She started to speak angrily, checked herself, and glanced down. "Eleven thirty-three. Paul-"

  "At twelve thirty-three the relief expedition gets under way. I don't want them to jump the gun. I want plenty of time out there. But when they come, tell them to beat the bushes hard, because their man will be there. If I'm in trouble, tell them, I'll use the needle on him. Injection C. It'll keep him anchored till they get there. If they're in a hurry to ask their questions, there's an antidote they can use. They'll know."

  Some of her anger seemed to have evaporated. She asked rather uncertainly, "And where will you be, Paul?"

  "Who knows?" I shrugged. "As they say in what used to be my part of the country, qumen sabe? Taking an armed man alive is always tricky. But I have everything working for me. He seems to be under the illusion he's Superman or Captain Blood or somebody. He also seems to have something on his mind, and five will get you twenty that he'll want to tell me all about it. A man who wants to talk has two strikes against him in a game like this. Furthermore, unless he's changed his style of armament, he's very lightly gunned. I should be able to reach him and immobilize him, one way or another. Your job is to see that Braithwaite sends out the wrecking crew to pick him up if I don't bring him in within the hour."

  "You mean," she said, "if you're dead."

  "Dead, wounded, or just plain tired. Why borrow trouble?"

  "It sounds… it sounds absolutely suicidal to me! At least you should take a gun."

  "He's got to talk," I said. "I can't risk using a gun, I might kill him. Here." I took the little knife from my pocket and held it out. "Keep this for me, too. I don't want any temptation around. It's going to be hard enough to keep from finishing him with my bare hands."

  She looked at the knife and shivered slightly. "I didn't know you carried that, Paul. What a wicked, beautiful thing!"

  "A present from a woman," I said. "You don't have to be jealous. She's dead." After a moment, I said, "I'm sorry I talked rough. I wasn't mad at you, not really. You know how it is."

  "I know," she said. She looked up. "I'll deliver your message, of course, but I'd rather… Can't I go home afterward? I could take a taxi. I have your revolver. I'm sure I'd be perfectly safe at home."

  I shook my head and led her into the building. The hallway was lined with pink marble and brass mailboxes. I checked the tenants' names, found the one I wanted, and turned to face Olivia.

  "What makes you so sure you'd be safe?" I asked. "Suppose when I get out there Mr. Kroch isn't waiting on that lonely island beach like he promised. Suppose it's just a trick to get me away. Suppose the big bell is tolling, the great gong has been struck; suppose Emil Taussig has pressed the go-button and everywhere across the nation the shadowers are closing in on the people they've been trailing for weeks and months, waiting for this moment. Suppose Kroch has got the word. He knows I'm staying as close to you as your best girdle. I could create a problem-unless he can send me off to hunt lizards and frogs on Santa Rosa Island while he takes care of his business with you. Maybe he's been building up this screwy, aggressive, melodramatic character for just this moment, so I'd fall for the trick when the time came."

  "But if you think that-"

  "I don't think that," I said. "It's merely one of several possibilities."

  Anger was back in her voice as she said sharply, "If you think it's even a possibility, why are you leaving me with an untrained boy and a blonde while you go chasing off to rescue-" She stopped abruptly. "I'm sorry. I suppose you do have to go after them. I suppose I even want you to."

  I said, "You're a nice girl, Doc, but you're still very innocent, even after all the work I've done to bring you up right. You still believe everything you see on TV."

  She frowned quickly. "What do you mean?"

  "Nobody's going to rescue nobody," I said. The stone walls and metal mailboxes threw my voice back at me flat and hard. "Nobody's going to rescue Toni, Doc. Nobody's going to rescue Harold. Nobody's going to rescue them for the simple reason that they're dead."

  There was a little silence. Somewhere in the building somebody had a radio going. It probably wasn't Braithwaite and the nurse. They'd be entertaining themselves in other ways. Olivia was staring at me, aghast.

  "But-"

  "They've been dead since Kroch hung up the phone," I said flatly, "unless it took him a few minutes to find a secluded spot to do the job. This isn't Ho
llywood, Doc. This is for real. Kroch had a use for them. Well, for one of them. He may have thought there was more between me and Toni than just a dinner at Antoine's, or he may just have hoped I was sentimental about young girls in general. In any case he wanted me to hear her voice so I'd know he wasn't bluffing."

  "But… but that doesn't necessarily mean he killed them! Once he'd used the girl-"

  "Once he'd used her, what could he do with her? Or with Mooney? Turn them loose to call the police?" I shook my head. "He wanted to be sure I'd come, whether or not he's going to be there himself. If he is, he wanted to be sure I'd come angry. An angry man is easier to deal with in most cases. There are exceptions, there are times when an angry man can be hard to stop, but he's not thinking of those. And when he no longer needed Toni when he no longer needed them, he shot them. I know that and he knows I know it. It's one of the things he's counting on to make me come."

  She licked her lips. "You're just guessing, Paul!"

  I said, keeping my voice even, "They're lying out in the sand right now, or in the bushes, or in their car if he isn't expecting to use it. Or they're drifting out into the Gulf of Mexico on the tide, if there is a tide around here and it happens to be going out."

  She said angrily, "You don't know. You can't know!" She wasn't even thinking of Mooney yet, and what his death might or might not mean to her. She simply didn't want to believe it could happen-that a couple of people could die casually because a man with a gun didn't want to be bothered, or wanted to bother somebody else.

  "Of course I know," I said. "I know because it's what I would do-what any pro would do-with a couple of hostages that weren't needed any more. It's what I'd do if I were operating alone in enemy territory and had important work coming up, as Kroch is and has. Why bother to tie them and gag them and take a chance of their working loose and making trouble? That only happens in the movies, Doc. In real life, everybody knows that nobody makes trouble with a bullet through the head. Besides, as I said, Kroch wants to annoy me."