Hotline to Murder by Alan Cook Read Free Book Online Page B

hoping we could get together.”
    Tony was disturbed by what Shahla was doing, but he knew if he cut off the call, she would hate him forever.
    There was silence on the line. Tony and Shahla looked at each other. Tony found himself holding his breath.
    “Are you on the level?” The voice was almost plaintive.
    “What do you think, Fred?”
    Shahla’s answer was brilliant. Let him draw his own conclusion. The imaginations of the callers didn’t work like those of “normal” people. He might convince himself that she was interested in him.
    “Well, I don’t know.”
    Tony suspected that Fred, or whatever his name was, had problems relating to women in real life.
    “What time do you get off work?” Shahla asked.
    “Midnight.”
    “And what’s your cell phone number?”
    After a hesitation, Fred reeled off an area code and seven-digit number. Tony quickly wrote it down and mouthed to Shahla to have him repeat it. She asked him again, and he gave the same number a second time.
    Then Shahla said, “Where shall we meet?”
    Another hesitation. Then he gave an intersection. Tony wrote down the names of the streets while Shahla verified them with Fred.
    “Shall we say 12:15?” Shahla asked.
    “All right. Listen, I gotta go.”
    The line went dead. Shahla looked jubilant. “We got him,” she almost sang. She danced around the room.
    “Not so fast, young lady.” Tony was alarmed at Shahla’s reaction. “First of all, we don’t know whether the information he gave us is correct. But in any case, we have to pass it along to Detective Croyden.” He pulled the detective’s card out of his wallet.
    “No. Croyden is at home with his wife and kids. We can’t blow this.”
    “Somebody will be on duty. I’ll call them.”
    Tony lifted a telephone receiver, but Shahla grabbed it at the same time. They froze, with Tony sitting and Shahla standing. Each had one hand on the receiver. Their hands partially overlapped.
    Tony’s first inclination was to jerk the receiver or yell at Shahla, but with an effort, he brought himself under control. Then he became conscious of the touch of her hand on his. He couldn’t let that affect him, either. He said, “What do you think we should do?”
    “Meet him.”
    “Us? Together?”
    “Sure. If they’re two of us, we’ll be safe.”
    “It isn’t going to happen. First of all, you’re not going anywhere except home. You’ve got school tomorrow. And how would I explain to your parents that I was running around the back streets of El Segundo at midnight with their underage daughter? Second, we’re going to turn this over to the police.”
    Shahla kept her grip on the receiver and Tony’s hand. She said, “Tony, the police will screw this up.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “Because…because. It was…it’s too long a story, but you can believe me when I say that I don’t trust the police.”
    He finally heard himself saying, much against his better judgment, “All right, this is what I’ll do.” He looked at his watch, which was on his left or unengaged hand, to gain time. It was almost ten o’clock. “We’ll close up shop, and you’ll go home. I will meet Fred, the Chameleon, at the designated time and place.”
    “I’m going with you.”
    “No, Shahla, you’re not.”
    “You’ll get hurt going all alone.”
    “My roommate has a gun. I’ll take it with me.”
    They stared at each other, neither one moving. If this is a test of wills, Tony thought, I’ve got to persevere. I’m responsible for her safety.
    Shahla said, “So you aren’t going to call the police?”
    “No.”
    Shahla relaxed her grip on the receiver and his hand. Slowly she pulled her hand away. Slowly he hung up the receiver.
    Shahla scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to him. “This is my cell phone number. Promise you’ll call me when you get back.”
    “Who knows what time that will be? You’ll be asleep. And I’ll wake up your parents.”
    “No you won’t. I