Death Makes A Mistake
Page 4
task and when he finally handed Mr. Demisehis drink it was a veritable masterpiece.
Mr. Demise drank the drink--it was a double Martini with a splash ofQuantro--in one long appreciative gulp. He set the glass down and sighedcontentedly.
"Another?" Reggie suggested hopefully.
"No," Mr. Demise said, "one is plenty. As a matter of fact," he said,"that's the first drink I ever had. Alcohol is one of our finest helpersbut we aren't supposed to touch it. Personally I think its intoxicatingeffect is greatly overrated."
* * * * *
Reggie leaned forward and there was a peculiar gleam in his eyes.
"So that was your first drink, eh?" he asked. "And you don't feelanything?"
"Not a thing," said Mr. Demise. "Of course I notice a certain glow, butthat's all."
"Just a certain glow, eh?" Reggie said.
"Thash all," Mr. Demise said. He sat down suddenly. "And my tongue ish alil' thick."
"Well, that's only natural," Reggie said. He mixed another drink andthere was a cryptic smile on his lips. "Alcohol is a peculiar thing. Onedrink will addle a person's wits and the second will act as an antidote.Strange, isn't it?"
Mr. Demise rocked slightly in the chair. His coal-black eyes were a bitglazed. "Ish very strange," he conceded.
"Possibly you'd like to try the antidote?" Reggie said casually.
"Might not be a bad idea," said Mr. Demise.
Reggie handed him the second drink and watched contentedly as Mr. Demisedrank it down. Mr. Demise set down the glass.
"You wush right," he said, slumping against the back of the chair."Absolutely right. Second drink ish an antidote. Jush what I needed."
"Absolutely," Reggie agreed solemnly.
Mr. Demise closed his eyes but he opened them almost immediately. Hestruggled up to a sitting position.
"I hash something to do," he muttered. His hand groped into the insideof his coat, returned with the slim black book. "Very important," hemumbled. "First assignment. Can't have any slip ups."
Reggie moistened his lips nervously. He eyed the little black bookcarefully. That might be the way....
"How about another drink, old boy," he said heartily. He mixed onequickly, handed it to Mr. Demise. Mr. Demise took it in his left handand Reggie deftly plucked the black book from his right hand. Mr. Demiseappeared not to notice the exchange. He drank the drink methodically.
Reggie tossed the book under a coffee table.
Mr. Demise climbed unsteadily to his feet.
Reggie took him by the arm. "What say we go out and have a few quickantidotes?" he suggested.
Mr. Demise nodded stupidly. He mumbled something unintelligible andallowed Reggie to lead him to the door. Reggie's brain was working atfull speed. If he could just ditch Mr. Demise and get back to the bookeverything might be saved. His idea was sheer brilliance....
* * * * *
Their first destination was a bar. Reggie found a cab, shoved Mr. Demiseinside and ordered the driver to one of the dozens of friendly bars withwhich he was familiar.
At the first stop Mr. Demise had two more drinks. When he had drainedthe second Reggie hauled him to his feet and started for another palatepalace. His object was to keep Mr. Demise so bewildered and drunk thathe would forget his job.
For a while he succeeded. Mr. Demise followed him helplessly from bar tobar and sat tottering on high stools happily pouring fiery intoxicantsinto his already overburdened stomach.
But finally he reached the state of saturation where the liquor produceda steadily diminishing effect. Reggie watched him worriedly and orderedmore and more drinks.
But it was no use.
In spite of the enormous quantities of liquor he had consumed, Mr.Demise was slowly sobering up. His face was losing its blank expressionand an intelligent gleam was creeping back into his eyes.
He began to fumble uncertainly through his pockets, a worried expressionsettling over his features.
Reggie slapped him on the back resoundingly.
"Have a drink!" he shouted into his ear.
Mr. Demise shook his head stubbornly.
"Got a job to do," he muttered. He went slowly through his pockets andan expression of horror replaced the worried look on his face.
"Where's my book?" he gasped. "I've lost my book! This is terrible. I'vegot to find it!"
"What book?" Reggie asked innocently.
"The book with all the names and places and dates and methods," Mr.Demise moaned. "I've lost it."
Reggie shrugged philosophically.
"Too bad," he said. "But things are never as black as they seem. Maybeit'll turn up somewhere. The thing to do is just sit tight until someonefinds it and reports it."
"I can't wait," wailed Mr. Demise. "These things have to happen onschedule. There'd be an awful rumpus in the complaint department if Istarted sending people up there haphazardly. And I don't even rememberwhom I've got on the list. You're the only one I'm sure of."
Reggie choked on his drink.
"Yes," Mr. Demise went on obliviously, "you're the first. I'm sure ofthat much. And I'd better send you along right away. I'll do that muchcorrectly, at least."
"Now, just a minute," Reggie said, "how're you sure you've got me right?I looked at that book and I don't think I'm the man you want at all."
"You looked at the book!" cried Mr. Demise with sudden suspicion. "Sothat's where it went. That's why you got me drunk. You stole my book,hoping to evade your destiny, didn't you?"
"Nothing of the sort," Reggie said, forcing a note of outragedindignation into his voice.
"Yes you did," Mr. Demise said. "I'm not going to wait a second longerin your case. Mr. Fiddler, prepare yourself for a long trip and don'tplan on coming back."
* * * * *
Reggie realized that the jig was up. Mr. Demise had a grim business-likenote in his voice and there was no hope of prolonging things further.Drastic action was needed, not discussion.
With a leap like a startled gazelle Reggie left his stool and boundedfor the door. Before Mr. Demise could turn around, he was in the street,shouting frantically for a cab.
A cab pulled to the curb and Reggie leaped into its dark interior. Overhis shoulder he saw Mr. Demise stagger from the bar, a wrathfulexpression stamped on his dark features.
The cab started away with a roar. Reggie shouted his address at thedriver and squirmed about to peek out the rear window.
He saw Mr. Demise clambering into another cab.
"Hurry!" he shouted to his driver.
"Life or death, eh?" the cabby said conversationally.
Reggie winced. "You said it."
The cab caromed around corners, hit the Outer Drive and hurled alonglike a frightened cotton-tail until it reached the near North side,where it swung west and sped through the labyrinthine streets that ledto Reggie's apartment.
From the rear window Reggie could see Mr. Demise's cab speeding afterthem, steadily closing the gap. His palms were moist and the effects ofthe liquor had completely faded, leaving him horribly sober. There wasnothing funny about this predicament.
His cab jolted to a stop and Reggie threw a bill at the driver andleaped out and raced into the foyer of his building.
By a miraculous stroke of luck the elevator was not in use. He slammedthe door and jabbed the button and the car started upward with a jerk.He breathed a long shuddering sigh of relief. Maybe there would yet betime....
The elevator stopped at his floor. Just as he opened the door andstepped out, the elevator suddenly dropped back down the shaft. One ofhis legs dangled down the shaft. With a startled squawk he pulledhimself onto the floor landing.
Mr. Demise obviously meant business. If he'd been in that elevatoreverything would be all over now. As it was he still had a chance.
He let himself into his apartment, switched on the light and doveunderneath the coffee table. The black book of doom was still there.Frantically Regg
ie opened it to the first page, found his own name.
He jerked a pencil from his pocket....
He was still scribbling furiously when the door of the apartment bangedopen and Mr. Demise strode into the room, his face black as athundercloud.
Reggie dropped the pencil and hid the book from view with his body.
"So!" Mr. Demise cried. "You would try to escape?"
He raised both hands commandingly in the air.
Before he could move again Reggie wheeled about.
"Just a minute," he shrieked. He held out the slim black book to Mr.Demise. "I was sure a mistake had been made. Here! Look for yourself."
"I want no more of your tricks," Mr. Demise warned ominously.
"This is no trick," Reggie said. "You should be grateful to me forcatching the error in time."
* * * * *
Mr. Demise took the book from Reggie and examined it carefully. Thefrown gradually faded from his face as his eyes lingered on the page. Heshuffled his feet awkwardly and cleared his throat.
"It seems," he said in a small, chastened voice, "that a mistake hasbeen made."
Reggie's heart pounded with hope.
"It certainly has," he said. "This entire affair should be reported tosomeone. That's what happens when you put inexperienced men on the job.You wind up with a bungled mess."
"I don't know how it happened," Mr. Demise said miserably. "All I cansay is I'm sorry."
"Fine thing," Reggie said stuffily. "Mess up your job like this and thensay you're sorry. I'd advise, Demise, that you lay off the liquor whenyou're supposed to be working."
"I will in the future," Mr. Demise said humbly.
"See that you do," Reggie said sternly. "Now I'd say you'd better get towork on that first assignment."
"Yes, I will," Mr. Demise said. With drooping shoulders he moved slowlyto the door. With his hand on the knob he turned again to Reggie.
"I hate to be a pest," he said, "but I'm afraid I don't know how to goabout this job. Maybe you could help me. Where can I find this fellow?"
Reggie chuckled and began to mix himself a drink.
"I'd advise you to try Berchtesgaden," he said. "Just ask anyone youmeet. They'll tell you where you can find Adolf Hitler."
"Thank you," Mr. Demise said gratefully. "I won't slip up on this one."
"See that you don't," Reggie said.