Defense for the Devil by Kate Wilhelm Read Free Book Online Page A

stood up. “Is that all?”
    “For now,” he said, rising.
    She went to open the door for him, then watched him walk down the corridor and out of the reception area.
    She was deep in thought when she heard Bailey’s characteristic tap on the door. “It’s open,” she called.
    He shambled in and took his chair.
    “Get a look at him?”
    “More. I tagged along after him. He headed for the pay phone in the lobby downstairs, changed his mind, and used one half a block up the street. Called two numbers, one probably long-distance. At least he used a card on that one. One local. I had to keep back because he’s got smarts. He was watching his tail. Then he went to the Hilton.”
    She nodded. “Can you get those two bags open? The suitcase and briefcase?”
    “Sure. I’ll bring a hacksaw.”
    “I want a look,” she said. “Now, today, tonight.”
    He nodded, then said, “But I’d like a little reassurance that my hand isn’t going to be blown off.”
    She told him about her meeting with Trassi, and finished, saying, “He doesn’t want cops, and he never batted an eye when I said two hundred ten thousand. I want to seewhat’s in them. I think he believes we’ve already opened them. He’ll consult with his client and come back with a better offer.”
    “Where?” Bailey asked then. “Not at the bank.”
    “No. Here. We’ll have to get the stuff over here, preferably without his knowing, just in case he’s keeping an eye on us. And Maggie will have to be present.”
    He reached down and pulled a glass from his bag, then held it up inquiringly. It was her father’s glass, the one Bailey had taken out with him. When she motioned toward the bookshelves, he went over, opened the bar, and poured himself a drink. Bailey was polite; he never helped himself without permission.
    She waited. At last he said, “Can you get Maggie over here by seven-thirty?”
    Barbara said yes, and hoped it was true. She was aware that everything she was doing was involving her father deeper and deeper in whatever it was she was mixed up in. She had to involve him. She couldn’t put that stuff in his office safe without his knowledge and permission.
    “Use your phone?” Bailey asked. She nodded and went to sit on the couch; he pulled the phone around to him and dialed. She heard his greeting: “Sylvia, how’s things?” His voice dropped then and he talked, listened, even laughed once, but finally he hung up and came to sit in an overstuffed chair across the coffee table from her.
    “Okay, all set,” he said.
    5
    At ten minutes past three Barbara decided that Frank was not home, and she stood undecided what to do next.
    Finally she unlocked the door, then entered his house, and heard him cursing. She followed the sound through the wide hallway, past the living room and the dining room, and found him in the downstairs bathroom on his knees at the bathtub.
    “Goddamn it, you do that again and I’ll wring your neck.” There was a tremendous splash, and water sprayed from the tub all over him. “You little fucker, you misbegotten son of a bitch!”
    Grinning, she backed away and went to the kitchen, then called out, “Dad, you around somewhere?”
    Now she heard a cat’s furious yowling. Frank yelled, “Be right with you.” The bathroom door slammed.
    She stood at the back door, laughing. He came out in a few minutes, and one of the Things streaked past the kitchen and up the stairs, yelling. It was soaked to the skin.
    “Turn on the sprinkler and those fool cats play in it like kids. Roll around in the birdbath. A real bath and they turn into maniacs,” Frank said. “But I did them, both of them, blast their eyes.”
    He went to the sink and washed his hands, then got a glass of water and drank most of it before he turned back to look at her.
    “Are you going to go get dry?” she asked.
    “No. Feels good this way.”
    “Can we talk a little?”
    “Sure. Coffee? Something else?”
    “No, thanks. It’s about