The Night People by Edward D. Hoch Read Free Book Online Page B

not at all like a movie producer. “Correct. John Falconi. I’m from New York.”
    “Oh? I thought perhaps you wished to see me on behalf of the Italian film industry.”
    The grey man smiled. “No, no, nothing like that. I have, actually, an odd sort of request to make. I only approach you because I know you are well acquainted with many of the people attending the festival.”
    “I know them. You meet the same people pretty much at Venice and Cannes. Are you a reporter or something?”
    This brought another smile to the grey man’s face. “Actually, I’m the American representative of a film manufacturer who’s thinking of establishing a plant in West Germany. I am, of course, interested in meeting the money people at a festival such as this.”
    “Does your company make colour film?”
    “Of course.”
    “And black-and-white?”
    “No, only colour.”
    “Then this is an odd place to come, Mr. Falconi. The Feru Film Festival has the unique distinction of barring all colour films. Only black-and-white motion pictures are entered.”
    This information took Falconi a bit by surprise, but he quickly recovered his composure. “Certainly, though, these producers are not adverse to working with colour. Some of the best recent motion pictures, including this year’s Academy Award winner….” His voice trailed off for a moment and then resumed. “Of course I know you yourself don’t feel too kindly towards the Awards.”
    “You know a lot about me, Mr. Falconi. Suppose you drop this talking in circles and get to the point. I’m a busy man.”
    The grey man smiled again. It seemed to be his favourite expression. “Very well, I am prepared to offer you a sum of money to accomplish a slight mission for me. You know the Russian actress Tonia Dudorov? She arrived here this morning. At the formal events of the Feru Festival she will surely be wearing her newly acquired Lenin Arts Award.”
    Win remembered reading something about Tonia winning the prize, presented each year to a leading exponent of the arts in Russia. “Wearing it?”
    “The award consists of a scroll and a small red metal star to be worn on the left chest. It’s the star we want.”
    “You want? What in the hell are you talking about?”
    “Please keep your voice down, Mr. Chambers.” He reached a hand into his pocket and came out with a small velvet box. Inside was a small red star. “You will simply substitute this star for the one she is wearing.”
    “Look, who are you, anyway? What is all this?”
    “I can understand your concern, but I’m not at liberty to reveal any further details. If you will substitute the stars for us, and deliver the new star to me, a large sum of money will be deposited to your account in a New York bank.”
    “Just how much is a large sum?”
    “Enough to settle your tax difficulties with Uncle Sam. You could return to America any time you wanted.”
    “It’s not just tax troubles that are keeping me away.”
    “We know,” John Falconi said, implying for the first time that there were others in this obscure plot. “But that would be a step. We checked up on you quite a lot back in the States. You might be interested in knowing that Betty Ainsley is married now, and has a child.”
    “You checked up, all right.” The news, even after so many years, hit him like a blow in the stomach. He tried to imagine Betty married, but his mind could not somehow grasp the fact. It was not so much at the moment of intercourse that he could not picture. Rather it was the act of childbirth that seemed still so completely foreign to this girl he’d once loved.
    “We know you can be trusted,” Falconi said.
    “Trusted by whom?”
    The grey man shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “Uncle Sam, shall we say?”
    “I haven’t been back to America in five years. It means nothing to me.”
    “It’s still your country.”
    Win finished his drink and tossed some bills on the marble-topped table between them. “Look, I