Why Pick On ME? by James Hadley Chase Read Free Book Online

am, but I must warn you I’m not used to entertaining women. There was a time when I had good manners, and, so women have told me, a certain amount of charm. The war changed all that. Life is too short; so much time can be wasted in being subtle. If a woman attracts me, I told her so, then if she reacts badly, I am free to find someone else.” He locked directly into the dark, sparkling eyes. “You attract me enormously.”
    “Should I feel flattered?” she asked, and laughed.
    He brushed this aside.
    “Can’t you get rid of your brother?”
    “But that’s quite impossible. It’s his birthday.”
    “Yes, that is reasonable,” Corridon said, frowning. “Then I shall have to wait. A pity, of course. You might not be in the mood when next we meet. Women are moody creatures.”
    “And you think I am in the mood now?”
    “I am sure of it.”
    “Perhaps it is a pity,” she said smiling.
    “When do we meet?”
    “Sunday?
    “Not before?”
    “Can’t you wait three days, Mr. Corridon?”
    “Call, me Martin. If we are going to be immoral, let us begin by being informal.”
    “You say the most terrible things.”
    “I know. Then we meet on Sunday. Where and what time?”
    “I have a flat in Bayswater Crescent, No. 29, on the top floor. Come and see me at seven.”
    “And you will be alone?”
    “You are determined not to be subtle, aren’t you?”
    “I live by my rules. You will be alone?”
    She smiled.
    “If I am in the mood.”
    Corridon nodded.
    “That’s the right answer. There should always be an element of doubt in such matters.”
    While he filled their glasses, she said, “We seem to have some a long way since we first met, don’t we? Do you usually rush your fences so successfully?”
    “It needs co-operation,” Corridon said, giving her his quick, jeering smile. He leaned forward and peered at the white ring at her throat. “That is a curious thing. From here it looks like an archer’s thumb ring from China.”
    His cold sea-green eyes looked directly into hers, searching for any reaction, but there was none.
    “How clever of you! That’s exactly what it is. How did you know?”
    “In my moments of leisure I haunt the British Museum,” he told her, a little disappointed she gave no sign the ring was of importance. “It’s an excellent place to increase one’s store of general knowledge. You will find several of these rings in the Museum. Is this genuine? May I see it?”
    “Why, yes.” She undid the tulle at her throat and pulled off the ring. “It’s been in my family for generations.”
    As she made to give it to him, a hand came from behind her shoulder and took it.
    They both turned sharply.
    “Why, Slade, dear,” she said, frowning. “You startled me.” She turned to Corridon. “This is my brother; Slade,” she went on, laying her hand on the arm of the man who had come so silently upon them. “Slade, this is Martin Corridon. He has just joined the club. He tells me he is a soldier of fortune.”
     
    III
     
    Slade Feydak was a masculine edition of his sister. He was slightly built, dark, thin featured with the same dark eyes. His wide thin-lipped mouth was inclined to droop at the corners, giving him a disillusioned expression that marred an otherwise pleasant face. He had a broad, high forehead and his eyes were set wide apart: a studious, intelligent face, Corridon thought, a face of a plotter, perhaps, and certainly a fanatic.
    “A soldier of fortune,” he said, looking curiously at Corridon, “that’s interesting. May I join you?”
    While he was speaking, he slipped the jade ring into his waistcoat pocket.
    “Certainly,” Corridon said. “Have some champagne?” He signed to the barman to bring another glass. “Lorene was telling me it is your birthday.”
    Feydak nodded.
    “What does a soldier of fortune mean?” he asked, sitting down between Corridon and Lorene.
    “I’m in the market for any job that pays well,” Corridon said. “I have