77 Rue Paradis by Gil Brewer Read Free Book Online Page A

building of the engine. But the breather, no. It is so secret it even makes me perspire to speak its name. Can you guess what your job will be?”
    Baron watched Gorssmann. He could say nothing. He could not trust his voice.
    Gorssmann shrugged. “It is just as well. I will talk with you again, and explain. For now, then, here….” He opened a drawer in the desk, took out a bundle of franc notes with a rubber band around them, and handed them to Baron. “Take this and get yourself in order. We will contact you. Do not move from your present address.”
    “Suppose I fail?”
    “You will not fail.” Gorssmann came around the desk, pressed him to his feet, guided him toward the door. Arnold stood up and looked at them. “You are the only man who can do this job. There is no such thing as failure. Every move is blueprinted, Baron. And, Baron—I can never tell you how important this is. You are the man. You go home now. Rest, become a person again.”
    He felt dizzy, sick, his body ached. It all had to be a dream.
    “Lili,” Gorssmann called, opening the door. “Show Arnold and Monsieur Baron out. Thanks.”
    Arnold preceded him through the door. He turned away from the door, looked again at Gorssmann.
    “When will I see my daughter?” he said. He could not keep the anxiousness from his voice. “You’re certain she’s all right?”
    Gorssmann grinned. “In time you will see her. She is perfectly safe.” He closed the door in Baron’s face.
    Baron turned and Lili rose from the table where she was painting. She laid down her brush and stepped up to them, where they stood beside the Chinese screen. She was a very pretty girl, her black hair gleaming in the subdued lighting of the room. She smiled faintly at Baron, held out her hand.
    He took it, felt a warm pressure.
    “Welcome, monsieur,” she said.
    Arnold grunted impatiently beside him. Suddenly Baron was startled and he stared hard at the girl Lili. Her face was expressionless now. He wondered if he could have been wrong. Then it happened again. Lili, holding his hand, quickly but obviously scratched the center of his palm with her index finger in a universally accepted gesture. Just as quickly, then, she released his hand and turned away.
    “Alors,” Arnold said. “Quickly. Come, we go.”
    Baron stared at Lili’s back. But already she had settled herself at the table and was again dipping her brush into the paint on a colorfully neat pallet.
     

CHAPTER 6
     
    He stood on the Cannebière and watched the Opel vanish up the street, the taillight winking redly. It was the exact spot where he had been standing hours ago, when the car stopped before him.
    He started on along the street. His body pained him in every muscle as he moved. He was bewildered. He did not know what to do, what was happening to him.
    A girl stepped toward him from a doorway. “Monsieur!”
    “What?” He turned to her.
    “Ah, Américain!” she gushed, came up next to him. Her breath reeked of cognac and her eyes were blackly wicked. “Sailor, eh? Dronk, eh? Zigzag, eh, babee?”
    “Go away.”
    “Babee, listen. Babee!” She grabbed his arm, slung her plump hip against him. She showed him her teeth and they were not good. “Me plenty good,” she said, her black eyes whirling, glittering like twin pots of sin.
    “Please,” he said.
    “Too much dronk?”
    “No.”
    “You sick?”
    He tried to pull away from her.
    “I no sick, babee. Hot like hell. Babee, you come weez me, eh? Me good for you, babee. Zigzig, plenty good. Zigzig, babee!”
    He yanked away from her. “You missed the boat,” he said. He walked on up the street, limping slightly, bewildered.
    “Cochon!” she screeched after him. “Peeg, peeg, feelthy peeg! Dronk! Cochon!”
    He heard her heels clatter wildly toward him on the pavement. Then they stopped. He glanced back. She was beneath a street light, watching him. Her face was flat white. Lipstick was smeared all over her mouth, down on her chin. She