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

managed to acquire a reputation in certain circles, and quite a number of jobs fall into my lap.”
    “A reputation for what, Mr. Corridon?” Feydak asked as Corridon filled his glass.
    “For not being too particular,” Corridon returned, and grinned.
    “I see. That’s interesting. You will excuse me if I seem curious. May I ask how you acquired this reputation?”
    “Don’t be so inquisitive,” Lorene put in, frowning. It was obvious to Corridon she didn’t welcome her brother’s interest. “Really, Slade, you’ve scarcely met Mr. Corridon. Do you have to cross-examine him like this?”
    Corridon laughed.
    “Don’t worry about that. I don’t mind a scrap. It pays sometimes to advertise.”
    Feydak made a little, impatient movement, signalling Lorene not to interrupt.
    “Then tell me, Mr. Corridon. I shall be frank and say I am inquisitive.”
    “People have the impression I like taking risks, that I am not fussy about ethics, that I will twist the Government if I have the opportunity,” Corridon said. “In a way they are right. I am a man with a grudge against authority, and I make no bones about it.”
    “Would it be tactless to ask why you have a grudge?” Feydak asked, smiling. “You see. I am still inquisitive.”
    Corridon said. “It’s quite a well-known tale, but perhaps your sister is getting bored.”
    “She is as interested as I am,” Feydak said before Lorene could speak. “Please go on,” and once again he made the little movement with his hand to Lorene.
    “I was one of the in-and-out boys during the war,” Corridon said. “My job was to go into Germany and find an agent, a traitor or someone who was helping the enemy in a specialized way and kill him. My people selected the victim. I hunted him out and stopped his activities.”
    “That must have been terribly dangerous,” Feydak said, his eyes glittering. “Were you caught?”
    “I was in the hands of the Gestapo for a while, but I was lucky to escape.” Corridon lit a cigarette, went on: “Without bragging, I think I can say I served my country pretty well. When the war finished I was posted to London as an agent. I was sent on a difficult mission. I had to steal papers from a certain Embassy. While I was opening the safe I was surprised by one of the secretaries who happened to be working late. I had to act quickly. He was about to raise the alarm. I killed him. I got the papers and took them to headquarters. The police tracked me to the door and grabbed me as I came out. My people in the true tradition disowned me, and I had to fend for myself. I very nearly went to the scaffold. Since then, I have been shunned by authority and I’m inclined to be revengeful. I feel anything I can do to even up matters is justifiable. I don’t make any excuses. That’s the way I happen to feel.”
    “That’s very interesting,” Feydak said. “Actually something like that happened to me. I was forced to leave my country. I can sympathize with you.” He took out his wallet and produced a card. “This is my business address. Perhaps you would care to call on me? I believe it is possible we might be useful to each other.”
    Corridon lifted his heavy eyebrows.
    “Really? But how?”
    “That is something we could discuss,” Feydak said, with a bright little smile. “I assure you I won’t waste your time. Occasionally I have little jobs that need doing by a man like yourself.”
    “I shouldn’t have thought that was possible,” Corridon returned. “The jobs I do are scarcely connected with a travel agency, Mr. Feydak.”
    “All the same I promise you if you care to discuss the matter with me at my office, I shall be able to interest you.”
    “I warn you,” Corridon said with his jeering smile, “I am only interested in substantial money.”
    “Even that can be arranged,” Feydak said.
    With a disbelieving shrug of his shoulders, Corridon accepted the card and slipped it into his waistcoat pocket. He did this with a