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

studied air of indifference.
    “And now if you will excuse me,” Feydak said, getting to his feet, “I will just have a word with the head-waiter. Are you ready, Lorene?”
    “In a moment,” she said shortly. “I haven’t finished my champagne. I’ll join you.”
    “Good.” Feydak stood up. He held out his hand to Corridon. “I have been very interested to meet you,” he said. “I hope you will come and see me soon.”
    Corridon shook hands with him.
    “Certainly. When I have a spare moment, I’ll look you up,” he returned in that tone of voice people use when they make empty promises.
    When Feydak had walked away, Lorene said fiercely.
    “You fool! You mustn’t mix yourself up in Slade’s affairs. Don’t ask questions, but please don’t go near him.”
    Corridon pretended surprise.
    “You are the most extraordinary girl. You should be pleased your brother has taken a fancy to me.”
    “But can’t you see he only wants to use you?” she said, her eyes glowing with repressed anger. “I won’t have him make use of my friends!”
    Corridon patted her hand.
    “Don’t get angry. I assure you no one has ever used me without regretting it.” He stood up. “Now I must run along. I hope you enjoy your dinner. I look forward to seeing you next Sunday.”
    “Please don’t go to his office,” Lorene said, and there was anxiety as well as anger in her eyes now.
    “I won’t. I hadn’t intended to,” Corridon said, smiling. “And don’t forget – watch your moods until Sunday. You are a very beautiful woman.”
    He sauntered away, his bands in his pockets, whistling softly under his breath, well pleased with the night’s work.
     
    IV
     
    As Corridon got into his car, the parking lights of another car some distance from his, lit up. He thumbed the starter engaged gear and drove slowly down the drive towards the gates.
    The hands of the dashboard clock showed ten-forty-five. He continued down the drive to the main gates. Standing under the battery of red neon lights, the blond youth in the purple and silver livery gave him an indifferent salute.
    Corridon swung the car out onto the arterial road, and immediately increased his speed, changing through the gears rapidly, the speedometer needle climbing to sixty.
    In the driving-mirror, he saw the two yellow spots of light behind him, and he grinned to himself. Ritchie had said they would watch him. They hadn’t lost much time.
    He made no attempt to shake off the car behind him. Once he reached Shepherd’s Bush and the heavier traffic, he slowed down making it as easy as he could for the man behind not to lose sight of him.
    Probably they wanted to know for certain that he lived in Grosvenor Mews, he told himself. Well, that was no secret. He too wanted them to know where to find him.
    The car behind him was only a few yards in his rear when he slowed down to turn into the mews. The car increased its speed and swept past him. He had a glimpse of a stream-lined Buick as it passed, and spotted two dark figures in the front seats.
    He reached forward, turned off his ignition and cruised down the mews, listening. The Buick had also stopped out of sight, and he guessed they would come into the mews on foot.
    He pulled up just outside his garage and turned on the headlights. Might as well make it easy for them, he thought as he got out to open the garage doors.
    A figure moved out of the shadows into the white circles of light. For a moment he was startled, and he paused, his muscles flexing, then when he saw the fox-fur cape, the short umbrella and the large handbag, he relaxed.
    The girl who came out of the darkness, with short, mincing steps, was tall and slender and fair. Her painted face was hard, her full scarlet lips were parted in a fixed smile of sensual invitation. She wore a neat black coat and skirt with the chic air of the successful street-walker.
    “Hello, darling,” she said, “are you looking for a naughty girl?”
    Corridon gave her a