Cover-Up Story by Marian Babson Read Free Book Online

would lose her.
    Meanwhile, the place was looking better already. ‘Good girl,’ I said, rather as though she were a bright puppy. ‘Good girl.’ She was more like a kitten, though, all fluffy hair and enormous eyes, overbalancing on long spindly legs. She’d be a beauty in a few years, but we wouldn’t see it – unless she took it into her head to come back and see if we were still keeping out of bankruptcy court. Or perhaps – I tried to look on the bright side – perhaps our luck would change, and we would be able to afford to give her a rise and take her on full time when she finished college.
    â€˜I heard the record – “Homesteader”,’ she said. ‘It was on the radio yesterday. I’m going to get the record for myself on Saturday. It’s wonderful. Is – will –’ The words were tumbling over each other. She stopped and tried again.
    â€˜Do you think Black Bart would autograph the record for me? He will be coming in here some day, won’t he? Do you think I could meet him?’
    â€˜Why not?’ Another instalment of the glamour of it all. Something to tell her friends about. I hoped Bart wouldn’t disillusion her too badly. He seemed to be canny enough to wait until the Press got out of the way before throwing any scenes. If I could slip Penny in with a Press party and get her out again before Black Bart reverted to type, she ought to be able to have her little thrill and keep her illusions intact. ‘We’ll see what we can arrange,’ I promised.
    â€˜Wonderful! Oh, thank you!’ I might have promised her the Taj Mahal by moonlight. She went back to her typing with renewed enthusiasm.
    I took the seat behind the desk and started to look busy, prepared for Sam to walk in and discover us both hard at work.
    It was a good pose and, when I looked at my watch after actually finishing off what work there was, I discovered that I had held it for over an hour. Sam had had plenty of time to get here, even if he had walked. Americans, however, take taxis if the distance is farther than twenty yards. He should have been here long ago.
    That uneasy feeling was creeping over me again. I reached for the telephone and tried the hotel.
    I got through to Sam directly. ‘Where the hell have you been? I thought you were coming here, after I missed you at the theatre. I want to see you.’
    â€˜Yeah, sure, Doug, I’m sorry. I tell you, I was coming over there, but I got sidetracked. Couple of other things came up. You know how it is.’
    â€˜Well, are you coming over now?’
    â€˜I’m sorry, Doug. I’d love to, but it just isn’t possible right now. Too many things to attend to. You know how it is.’
    I didn’t, but I was beginning to find out. ‘Perhaps I could come over there. We ought to have a talk, you know, before I can do much more about the Press before the opening.’
    â€˜Yeah, I know that, Doug. Sorry, you’ll have to play it by ear. I’ll tell you, I’m not going to be at the hotel this evening.’ His voice had a shifty note in it. If we were face to face, I had the feeling that he would refuse to meet my eyes.
    â€˜It’s kind of awkward right now. You know how it is when you get to a strange city, and I’ve got all these people to look after. Honest, Doug, I don’t have a spare minute today.’
    I hung up thoughtfully. One thing had become quite clear in the course of the conversation. I should have been relieved. Instead, I found that it only added to my uneasiness.
    Far from watching me, Little Brother was actively avoiding me.
    Just in case no one else was covering the Opening, Gerry borrowed a flash camera. On the way to the theatre, we picked up Penny, festooning her with bags of spare flashbulbs and plates, so that she’d look useful and, possibly, even like a member of the Press.
    We pushed our way through what looked like a