The Adroit Alien by Frank W. Butterfield

Author:Frank W. Butterfield [Butterfield, Frank W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay, Paris, detective, San Francisco, mystery
ISBN: 9781984156822
Google: ARaMtAEACAAJ
Publisher: self-published
Published: 2018-01-26T12:52:11.497000+00:00

Chapter 22

94, chemin des Sauberands

Friday, March 30, 1956

Twenty minutes before 10 in the evening

"I was afraid you forgot about us." That was Mandy. We had pulled up in front of her rented chalet in a cab at around 9:40. She had opened the door, welcomed us in, and was showing us where to hang our hats, coats, mufflers, and other winter gear. Once we'd stamped the snow off our boots, we followed her through a long stone-paved hallway and into a warm medium-sized room. A large fireplace under a stone mantel stood on the left side of the room. Lots of brightly-colored pillows were scattered along a white sofa that wrapped around the wall opposite the fireplace and reaching to the far end of the room. The sofa was just below a bank of windows. Like something out of a movie, each small window pane was crusted with snow.

Above the din of a rambunctious conversation, Mandy said, "Here they are, gang." Everyone in the room stood and walked over to us. All except for one man in the far corner.

Mandy said, "I think everyone knows who's who so I won't be tiresome and introduce everyone." Looking at me, she asked, "How about cognac for you both?" She began to move to a bar on the far side of the hallway.

I said, "Sure," and looked up at Carter who asked, "Any chance for a beer?"

The man at the end of the room sighed dramatically while one of the other guys said, "Just so happens I brought some bottles of beer with me from Zurich." He nodded towards a doorway. "Wanna come with me to the kitchen?"

Carter grinned and nodded, offering his hand. "Carter Jones."

The other man shook. "Reggie Van Horn."

As they walked through the door, revealing a kitchen behind it, a gal with slicked-back dark hair, a pugnacious nose, and dressed in a man's red flannel shirt and dungarees walked up to me. She offered her hand. "I'm Gert."

I shook and said, "Nick. You must be Mandy's girlfriend."

She grinned as she took Mandy's hand. "That's me. You feeling better? I heard you had a cold."

I nodded with a smile. "Yeah, thanks. I finally got caught up on some reading. It's been a while since I've loafed around like that."

The man at the far end of the room crossed his arms and sighed dramatically, again.

Mandy walked up and offered me a small snifter of cognac, rolling her eyes as she did. "How much longer will you two be here in Chamonix?"

"We're heading out for Nice tomorrow morning." I took a small sip of my drink.

"Fancy," commented the man at the end of the room.

A tall kid, probably 25 and standing around 6'2" with dark hair and brown eyes, walked up and offered his hand. "I'm Mark. Reggie's better half."

I shook and said, "Nick. Nice to meet you."

Gert said, "Don't let him fool you, Nick. Reggie is the better half. By far."

Mark playfully shoved Gert in the arm. "Hey! I resemble that remark."

A blond kid, about my height, with blue eyes and a sunburn walked up, offering his hand.

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