(eng) Mack Reynolds by The Case of the Little Green Men

Author:The Case of the Little Green Men [Men, The Case of the Little Green]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I was prepared to find the James Maddigans living in a comfortable home, considering that Ross wasn’t exactly poverty-stricken and that both Sandra and her husband dressed as though they were to the manner born. But I wasn’t prepared for the ultra luxury of their hotel apartment.

An impeccably dressed jerk at the desk of the Marion Arms eyed me superciliously, asked for my name and pursed his lips before condescending to phone up to the Maddigan apartment.

Evidently Sandra Maddigan was at home and evidently she told him to hustle me through. The supercilious look blended into a leer which I didn’t get at the time.

The elevator smoothed me up to the fourteenth floor, and I didn’t have to take the time to look about for Apartment 1400, because there was Sandra, coming down the hall toward me, her hands extended happily as though I were a husband just back from the wars. The elevator boy’s face was impassive. I wouldn’t lose any money betting that he’d been through this scene before.

“Jeb!” she gushed, “I’m so pleased to see you. I was afraid that you were angry with little Sandra.” She pouted, but I still didn’t like women who pout, not even when they had the lush, full mouth of a Sandra Maddigan.

She was wearing a colorful housecoat which couldn’t possibly have cost as much as you estimated. But for that matter, it seemed equally impossible that that many yards of cloth could do so much in the way of indicating what lay below.

She took me by the arm happily and walked me back to the apartment, bubbling along as we went. I didn’t get it.

The Maddigan apartment was about as far out of my class as you can get. Its terrace reached out above a clever patio below; its six or eight rooms ran off in all directions from the tremendous living room. The furniture was striking without being uncomfortable; modern without being Hollywoodish. Whoever had decorated the Maddigan apartment — and it could have been neither James nor Sandra — had been paid, but plenty.

I pursed my lips and whistled softly. “I thought science fiction fans were inclined to be along the proletarian side.”

She shrugged, pouting again, “Don’t be snobbish. If you have money, why not spend it?”

“Yeah,” I said, “why not?”

There must have been servants around somewhere, but I didn’t see them. When the clerk announced me, she had evidently been sitting on a couch reading. A book lay face down; nearby was a tray complete with a tall impressive-looking bottle, an ice bucket and a bottle of soda. I noted the title of the book, Male and Female, by Jack Woodford. I murmured inwardly, “Imagine a dame that looks like this having to read about it.” There was a double row of additional books in a low bookcase to one side of the couch — detective and love novels.

She plumped down on the couch and patted the place beside her and immediately reached for the bottle.

I said suspiciously, “What’s that?”

“Metaxa,” she beamed.

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