Assassins Don't Die in Bed by Michael Avallone

Author:Michael Avallone [Avallone, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Story Merchant Books
Published: 2014-03-12T22:00:00+00:00

12. A Fine Night for Dying

My main concern was Gilda Tiger's luggage. I worked swiftly and silently, exploring behind the tapestries and draped walls until I found the clothes closet. When I slid the door back, it was to a view any woman worth the gender would have swooned over for several hours. What had to be Balenciaga and Dior originals rode herd on each other, maybe fifty different dresses and costumes. Fur, silk, cashmere, satin, you name it. The glitter of sequins and diamonds was blinding. The Gilda Tigers of this slap-happy universe didn't go in for rhinestones. There weren't many shoes, though; maybe three pairs in all. Tiger was yet another of those barefoot contessas. That figured, too.

The clotheshorse closet was a total loss. Just feminine finery, fripperies, and doodads. It was puzzling. I hunted around the stateroom for a handbag, a portmanteau, private jewelry boxes. Anything that would provide a scrap of evidence that the very sexy lady was not going to London just to hear Big Ben toll.

The diamond box was a leather-bound, tooled-in-gold monster, much bigger than a bread box. Opening the snap lid hurt my eyes. Inside was a clutter of tiaras, necklaces, bracelets, and rings, gleaming with precious stones. I found the box planted beneath one of the enormous tasseled pillows, stuck in an out-of-the-way corner of the large stateroom.

I decided to give the bathroom a fast once-over. You never could tell. People choose the damndest places to hide the goods. Gilda was still out on the fancy rug. Way out. Her scandalous figure was tempting, but I had to think about Other things.

It was just about this time that Bhudda poked his head into the stateroom for a look-see. Maybe it was his habit while Tiger-watching, maybe something funny had reached his tiny ears. I can't say. All I know is that he meant trouble.

We met just as I was heading for the john. The door suddenly eased inward, closed softly, and he was there. Man, was he there. Two hundred and sixty pounds of walking killer. It took only a fraction of a second for him to see that Gilda wasn't sleeping off a good roll in the hay and that I was making like a sneak thief. After that, everything went haywire.

I don't know how he managed to cover the twenty feet separating us before I could even go for my hardware. He was on me with one amazing catlike bound long before I could reach the mother-of-pearl knife in my inside pocket. The dummy .45 wouldn't have fooled him for a moment.

His face was expressionless. I could see that as his pudgy hands sledged toward my shoulders, meaning to bracket my head like heavy bookends.

I dropped to my knees, surged sideways, and his bulk moved by me with a whish of air as if his weight had displaced the oxygen in the room. I chopped a slicing palm into the vast width of his back as he went by. He merely grunted, and my hand tingled with pain.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.