Stripped to Kill by Larry Kent

Author:Larry Kent
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cia, drugs, detective fiction, private eyes, mexico city, piccadilly publishing, don haring, larry kent, high octane thriller, noir fiction ebooks
Publisher: Piccadilly

“Are you sure?” Valerie asked.

“One hundred percent. Shirley Bannister was definitely upset when that shot was fired at me.”

“It could have been an act. Remember—”

“Yes, I know all the reasons why it could have been an act. But it wasn’t.”

Valerie Greer and I were in the Kings Cross apartment. Valerie had already given a Motor Vehicle Bureau contact the registration number of the car that had whisked off the would-be assassin. The MVB man had phoned back with the information that the registration was that of a stolen Charger. Which was just about what I’d expected.

“It would seem your theory is correct,” Valerie said as though thinking aloud. “Daphne Durell lent Horatio Moon her cottage in the Blue Mountains, and Shirley Bannister went off with Mr. Devro to her cottage in Victoria. Each cottage burned down during the past few days.”

“Suggesting,” I put in, “that each cottage was used so the men could be studied and probably photographed. Nazi Germany started that sort of thing. When they wanted something from a foreigner—anything from a formula for artificial rubber to performance data on a new aircraft—they assigned a beautiful woman to the fellow. The German Secret Police had scores of hunting lodges specially equipped for taking motion pictures—with sound. Later on they’d sit the foreigner in a screening room and that was it. Since then just about every country in the world with a spy organization has used the system, and that includes the United States and Australia.”

“And you think Mr. Moon and Mr. Devro were studied by the enemy so their impersonators would be able to do a thorough job.”

“That’s right. Arthur Simpson, a damn good CIA agent, said that Arnold Devro ordered him to kill Desmond Garfield. A man I thought was Moon told me to kill a friend of mine, George Allison.”

“I know all that,” she said.

“Sure, honey. But bear with me. I’m trying to put this into perspective.”

“All right, go ahead.”

She was seated on the arm of my chair. I could smell her perfume and when she leaned towards me, her breasts shifted about and threatened to climb over the low neckline of her blouse.

“First of all,” I said, placing a hand against her bottom, “you will please go to a chair across the room.”

She wriggled. “Must I?”

I gave her bottom a crisp slap and she jumped to her feet.

“Thank you,” I said.

Rubbing her bottom, which was tightly encased in pink stretch pants, she went across the room. Frowning darkly at me, she sat down. I smiled and she made a face and poked out her tongue at me.

“Act like an agent,” I said. “I was talking about Simpson and me being fooled by men who claimed they were Arnold Devro and Horatio Moon respectively. I’ve known Moon for a long time and Simpson is well acquainted with Devro.”

“You were both under the influence of durnol,” Valerie pointed out.

“Strange stuff, durnol. It’s an hallucinatory drug. When that man came to my apartment and claimed he was Moon, I believed him.

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