John D MacDonald – Travis McGee 10 The Girl In The Plain Brown Wrapper

“Like I said. Take the eight hundred and leave. Your broad was pretty good, but she wasn’t worth eight hundred, but if that’s the going rate, let me pay.”

“Now, don’t get cute,” he said. His voice was coming back.

“Man, the very last thing I am going to be is cute. My head hurts from whatever she loaded my drink with. We had this nice little romp and then, instead of settling down, she wants to go out to some saloon. She said we could come back afterward. So I get dressed and she wants a drink, so I fix two drinks and I drink mine, and the last thing I remember is seeing her watching me in a funny way as she’s putting her clothes on. Then the lights went out.”

“He’s making it up! It wasn’t like that at all, darling!”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise and tried to look as though a slow understanding was dawning on me. I nodded. “All right. If she’s all yours, buddy, then I’m making it up and it wasn’t like that at all. Never happened.”

The shape of his mouth was uglier. Without taking his watchful stare off me, he said to her, “How could you figure he’d wake up? How could you figure he’d tell me? A little fun on the side, darling?”

“Please!” she said. “Please, you can’t believe him. He’s trying to–”

“I’m trying to be a nice guy,” I said. “It never happened. Okay, Penny?”

“Stop it!” she cried.

“Maybe the only way you can keep me from using this gun is by proving it did happen. Tell me… some things you couldn’t know otherwise, smartass.”

“Pale yellow bra and panties with white lace. Freckles, very faint and small but lots of them, across the tops of her breasts. A brown mole, about the size of a dime, maybe a little smaller, two inches below her left nipple and toward the middle of her, like maybe at seven o’clock. And when she was making out, she called me Rick. If you’re not Rick, you’ve got more problems.”

The blood had pone out of his face. Instead of turning his eyes, he turned his whole head toward her.

In a breathy dog-whistle squeak she said, “But he knows because… I never… when he was…”

“You cheap little bum,” he said in a pebbly voice. “You dirty little hot-pants slut. You…”

And by then his head was turned far enough, and I made the long reach for the kick and put a lot of energy and hope and anxiety in it, because there was so little barrel jutting out over the back of the chair. But I hit it hard enough to numb my toes and hard enough to kick it out of his hand and over his head. It hit the wall and bounded back, spinning along the rug. He pounced very well and even came up with it, but I was moving then, adjusting stride and balance as I moved, and got my turn and my pivot at the right place and, keeping my wrist locked, put my right fist into the perfect middle of that triangle formed by the horizontal line of the belt and the two descending curves of the rib cage. He said a mighty hawff and sat solidly on the floor about four feet behind where he had been standing, rolled his eyes back into his head and slumped like Raggedy Andy. I scooped up the revolver and knelt beside him and checked heart and breathing. It is a mighty nerve center, and fright had added lots and lots of adrenalin to my reaction time, and it can so shock the nervous system that the breathing will stop and the heart go into fibrillation.

I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye and I lunged for the girl and caught her just as she got her hand on the door. I spun her back into the room, forgetting her bad ankle. She fell and rolled and started to get up, then lay there curled on the floor, making little smothered hopeless sounds of weeping.

Her Rick was too big to fool with, and I found a couple of wire hangers in the closet, leftovers hung in with the wooden kind that fit into nasty little metal slots so you won’t steal them. I straightened one into a straight piece of wire, then held his wrists close together by grasping both his arms just above the wrist in the long fingers of my left hand. I put the end of the wire under my left thumb and then quickly and firmly wrapped it around his wrists as many times as it would go, then bent and tucked the two ends under the encircling strands. It is a wickedly effective device. And quick.

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

Leave a Reply 0

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