I WILL FEAR NO EVIL by Robert A. Heinlein

Presently she whispered, “That was as good a kiss as the very first one, Jake…and I no longer feel like crying.

But I heard them unlock us.”

“They’ll wait until I unlock from inside. May I go up the lift with you and see you to your door?”

“No. . . I can explain your guards but would have trouble explaining why the firm’s chief counsel bothers to do so. Joe isn’t jealous of Boss—but might be of you. I don’t want him to be…especially when I came so close to giving him reason to be.”

“We could correct that near miss.”

“Could be, dear Jake. My Iowa-farm-girl morals don’t seem very strong today—I think I’ve been corrupted by a million dollars and a Rolls-Royce. . . and a city slicker. Let me go, dear.”

3

The guards escorted her up and to her door in respectful silence. Mrs. Branca looked with new interest at “Charlie,” the Shotgun—wondered how a mousy, fatherly little man could be as vicious as Jake seemed to know that he was.

They “stood sideboy” as she spoke to her door’s lock, then waited until her husband unbolted it. As the door opened Rockford saluted and said, “Oh-nine-forty, Miss—we’ll be waiting right here.”

“Thank you, Rockford. Good night. Good night, Charlie.”

Joe Branca waited until he had thrown the bolts and reset the alarm before he spoke. “What t’hell happen? An’ where you trap uniform apes?”

“Don’t I get a kiss first? Surely I’m not all that late? It’s not yet eighteen.”

“Talk, woman. Other ape shows back two hours with your jitterbuggy—tha’s okay; your boss’s butler phoned.” He took off her cloak and kissed her. “So where you been, dizzy baggage? Missed you.”

“That’s the nicest thing I’ve heard all day. That you’ve missed me.”

“Walking the ceiling! What happen?”

“Were you worried? Oh, dear!”

“Not worried, Smith’s door flunky said you been sent on errand an ‘ud come home in a Brink’s. So knew you safe. Just torched it took so long when call made spec you’d short it. Rozzer?”

“Roz. Simple, though. Boss sent me with his Best Boy—Jake Salomon, you know.”

“Fixer. Roz.”

“Mr. Salomon took me in his car to his office to work on things Boss wanted at once—you know how right-now Boss is and worse since he’s been wired down.”

“Poor old muck should take the Big One. Pitiful.”

“Don’t say that, dear. I cry when I think about it.”

“You’re a slob, Sis. But me, too.”

“That’s why I love you, dear. Anyhow a longish job and Mr. Salomon had his guards take me home—and they drove through Bird’s Nest turf and we got fired on. Chopped all down one side.”

“Huh? Doom?”

“Not even grief. Fun.”

“Like what inside?”

“Teribly noisy. But exciting. Made me horny.”

“Everything makes you horny, Tits.” He grinned and mussed her hair. “You’re home and no aches, what counts. So peel. Inspiration eating me, who1e day. Walking the ceiling!”

“Which sort of inspiration, dearest?” she asked while sliding the half-sweater off her right shoulder and peeling it down her arm. “And have you eaten? If you start painting, you won’t stop to eat.”

“Ate some. Too high on inspiration. Big, big! I’ll flash a pack for you. Chicken? Spaghetti? Pizza?”

“Anything. I’d better eat if it’s that sort of inspiration.” She kicked off her sandals, pushed down the panty-ruffle, sat on the floor to slide off the single tight attached to it. “Am I going to pose for a painting or are you going to paint on me and mug it?”

“Both. Tha’s the grabber. A Nova.”

She laid her dress carefully aside, rocked forward into Lotus seat. “I don’t roz it. ‘Both?’

“Both. You’ll see.” He looked down, ran his eyes over her, smiled; “And both sorts inspiration.”

“Well! Happy-making!”

“Not too hungry? Can wait.”

“Beloved man, when was I ever that hungry? Never mind the bed; just grab a pillow and come here!”

Shortly Mrs. Branca was thinking happily how lucky it was that she had not let dear Jake go ahead—the sweet thing would have been a disappointment compared with what she had at home. . . yet he had got her wonderfully primed for this. Really, it was best to be a faithful wife. Usually. What a wonderful, extraordinary day! Should she tell Joe about her big pay raise? No hurry. Couldn’t tell him anything else. Too bad. Then she quit thinking coherently.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *