Old Poison by Joan Francis Read Free Book Online

from the U.S. With that
salute, he turned and walked into the milling crowd.
    Good. The badge was doing its job. Now I
needed to know who this guy was and how he was connected to Lilac?
If his interest was more than recognition of the keynote speaker’s
name he would be back.
    A musical fanfare interrupted my thoughts,
and I looked up to find the big screen dark and doors opening on
each side of the huge room. A strange looking little two-passenger
car rolled in through the door on the right, and climbed almost
silently up a ramp and came to a stop on a circular stage. As the
stage began to revolve, the loud speaker introduced this model as a
clean, quiet, electric car, and said that in some cities you could
ride the train to town and rent the little electric to run around
town. Maybe Tweetie Bird’s little old Grannie was really ahead of
her time.
    There followed an entire parade of cars,
carts, bikes and scooters, powered by batteries, solar panels,
hybrid engines, and experimental fuels. Major car manufacturers as
well as smaller companies were displaying their versions of the
future. Finally, a troop of four policemen mounted on electric
bicycles, put on a little show of synchronized riding, complete
with wheelies. When the bike chorus line rolled off stage left, the
show ended.
    I began my tour of the exhibits and found
there were environmental groups from almost every country in the
world, most states, and many for-profit companies. The amazing
array of products and services included environmentally safe
packaging, outdoor clothing and gear, eco-tourist trips, solar
heating and cooling, alternatively fueled vehicles of every sort,
ecologically safe batteries, and maps of electric recharging
stations. Many companies offered technologies to clean the Earth,
air, and water; and dozens of universities displayed their research
projects covering myriad environmental issues.
    I turned toward the booths on the north wall
and saw a man in a brown leather hat turn quickly and disappear
into the crowd. The hat was made with a hard waterproof leather
finish and styled as a cross between a standard slouch hat and an
Indiana Jones hat. Both its style and its timeworn patina made me
certain there could not be two in this crowd. Had he been watching
me again, or was it coincidence that we were at the same place in
this crowd?
    With my antenna up, I continued a leisurely
tour of the expo. Everywhere I turned there were earnest,
passionate people, young and old, asking for my support for some
place, plant, or animal that was about to disappear from this
Earth. In their fervor, they reminded me of Evelyn Lilac.
Overwhelmed by problems I couldn’t solve, I decided it was time to
get to work on the problem that had brought me here.
    There is some kind of energy transmitted
when you are being watched. I am positive of this, though no
science can yet prove it. I turned around quickly, certain that my
friend in the leather hat would be there. The slight widening of
his eyes showed he was startled by the sudden confrontation. I held
him with my gaze as if to say, “Game’s up.”

    * * * * *

NINE

    His response was to give me a charming smile
as he walked over and removed his hat. It occurred to me that if he
really hadn’t wanted me to notice him, he could have taken off that
hat before following me around the hall.
    “Please allow me to present myself. I am
Guillermo Jesus Montegro y Monteblan.” With the hint of a bow he
added, “ A sus ordines , that is, at your service,
Senora.”
    The Old World charm was so natural I was
sure he had been raised with it. He must come from a little patch
of twentieth-century culture that had not yet given up the
graciousness of its past.
    “ Con much gusto, Senor . . .” His
name had rolled off his tongue like music, but I found myself at a
loss to repeat it.
    “My American friends call me Gill. I would
be honored if you would also.” His voice was soft, resonant, and
mellifluous. He had a