The Shadowers by Donald Hamilton Read Free Book Online Page A

had. “Why not?” she murmured. “Why the amazing display of self-control?”
    “Because if I come in, you’ll start wondering if I’m not really figuring you for a sucker or a tramp or both. Hell, you’re wondering now, that’s why you offered the invitation, isn’t it? To see what kind of a slob I really am? But if I treat you with great respect, and just kiss you chastely here at the door and tear myself away, maybe I can make you remember me kindly in spite of the way we met.”
    She said, watching me, “Just how kindly do you want to be remembered, Paul?”
    I said, “To be perfectly honest, I’d rather not be remembered at all, publicly at least. The little man who wasn’t ever here, that’s me.”
    “All right,” she said. “But hardly little. All right. If that’s what you want. I’ve had a lovely evening after all, and in return I’ll follow any instructions you give me. That was the deal. But let’s pass up the chaste and respectful kisses, shall we? I don’t... don’t like playing games with it, if you know what I mean.” Her voice wasn’t quite even at the end.
    I looked at her for a moment, and I had the feeling you sometimes get in the business, that if you’d met somebody at a different time under different circumstances something might have come of the encounter, something you’d rather not think about since it wasn’t going to happen. “Sure,” I said. “Anything you say, Toni.”
    She said quietly, “You’re a very clever guy, aren’t you? The funny thing is, you’ve almost got me convinced you’re a pretty nice guy.” She smiled crookedly. “I’ll hold that thought as you walk away, Paul Corcoran, or whatever your real name is.” There was a little pause while I turned toward the stairs. “Paul?”
    I looked back. “Yes, Toni?”
    “Good luck,” she said softly. “Good luck with whatever you’re doing, whoever you are.”
    Outside I drew a long breath and started up the street thinking it would be swell if wars were fought only by professional soldiers, and undercover operations involved only tough and unscrupulous agents who’d volunteered for the work. I’d used the kid cold-bloodedly to cover my interest in Olivia Mariassy, and she’d repaid me by calling me a pretty nice guy and wishing me luck. She was a bright kid and kind of a brave kid; and she thought she was experienced and sophisticated but she didn’t really know the score.
    I hoped she’d never learn it through anything I’d done, but there was no way of being sure of that. It’s kind of like rabies, except that you don’t have to bite anybody to pass it along. Just being seen with them can sometimes be enough. I remembered a case in which a small boy died, never mind where, because he’d politely picked up and returned a small package a lady had dropped—quite accidentally, as it happened, but the people watching her hadn’t known that. They’d had to make sure.
    Nobody followed me back to the hotel. I was quite certain of that, but the significance didn’t strike me until I was crossing the lobby toward the elevators. Then I stopped abruptly with a cold feeling in my stomach, remembering that I’d had no such confidence when we reached Toni’s place.
    I stood there trying to remember and analyze my reactions. All the way from Antoine’s to Toni’s the warning signals had been flashing red on the control board. I might not have consciously seen, heard, smelled, or felt anything wrong, but the night had been faintly wrong behind me. From Toni’s to the Montclair there had been nothing of the sort. Logic provided the answer: if somebody had followed me to Toni’s, he was still there.
    It was time for a careful review of the possibilities and their meanings. If our man had really followed me tonight instead of sticking with Olivia, this meant that my red-herring stunt hadn’t worked. He’d seen enough of our clumsy meeting to want to investigate me further. And if he’d stuck with