Assassins Have Starry Eyes by Donald Hamilton Read Free Book Online

are tearing their hair out by the roots, one hair at a time. It takes longer that way. Meanwhile, no Justin.”
    “How did it happen?” I asked.
    “He was a ski-bug, as you probably remember. I suppose it was the Swiss in him coming out. Any time there was snow up on the mountain, Louie would be out there trying to break a leg. His record was pretty good; he managed to average one simple fracture a winter, with a compound thrown in every couple of years for good measure. Sprains and torn ligaments don’t count. Well, a week or so ago there was finally enough snow up in the Sangre de Cristos, and Justin headed up to the ski-run to try it out. He strapped the boards on his feet, took off, and was never seen again. Van Horn is having kittens, pink ones with chartreuse spots. It’s not really his baby—it belongs to the boys up at Alamos—but he’s checking this end and talking darkly about Burgess and Maclean, with a little Fuchs on the side.”
    Larry shook his head. “It’s hard to believe. Of course, Louis always was an odd sort of person—”
    “Oh, bunk!” Jack said rudely. “Don’t you go climbing on the little red bandwagon, too. Justin just cracked up like old Fischer, who dived into Chesapeake Bay last summer and let his boat sail home without him. Only Justin didn’t crack quite far enough to kill himself. God knows there are times I get sick of this business, too. It would be nice to take a powder to some pleasant island where the natives do nothing more unfriendly than cook and eat each other. I say chalk up another victim to the guilt of Hiroshima. Justin’s probably a thousand miles away, happily selling size-five shoes to ladies with size-nine feet.”
    Larry said, “Isn’t that a rather weak theory? I can’t imagine a sensible man with sound scientific training just throwing up his career because of a sentimental impulse—”
    “You’d rather believe he’s a communist? What’s sensible and scientific about that?” Jack demanded. “And what has scientific training got to do with it, anyway? Scientists get scared just like anybody else, don’t they? I know several people, some with sound scientific training and some without, who’ve got estimates on bomb shelters for their back yards in the past few years. Some have even laid in stocks of canned goods, just in case. And the only reason more aren’t doing it is that they feel it probably won’t do any good… It reminds me of a song we used to sing in college.” He hummed the tune. “I went to the rock to hide my face, and the rock cried out: no hiding place, there’s no hiding place down here.”
    Everybody was quiet for a second or two. It seemed about time to break this up. I said, “Who’s replacing Justin at Los Alamos?”
    Jack didn’t move at once; then he looked at me in a bemused sort of way. “What? Oh, why, nobody, as yet. We’re clearing with Strohmeier for the time being. Not that there’s much to clear until we get the go-ahead from Washington.”
    Ruth stirred uneasily. “This conversation is getting too serious,” she said, “and Greg’s had enough of us, anyway. Larry dear, let’s let them have their Christmas Eve in peace. Come on, Jack, you’re having dinner with us, remember?”
    It took them a while to get their wraps. I watched the three of them go out the door together, Ruth in the middle. It gave me an odd feeling of watching a movie I had seen before—Jack was spending as much time at their place nowadays as I used to do some years before. Well, it was none of my business. Natalie waved good-by to them, closed the door, and let her party face slip.
    “My God,” she said, “you certainly know a bunch of grim people, darling.”
    I said, “We can’t all be scintillating.”
    She grinned abruptly. “I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be good, aren’t I? Your friends are wonderful, darling, simply wonderful. I just adore them. Where the hell’s my drink got to?” She found it and came over to