The February Doll Murders by Michael Avallone

Author:Michael Avallone [Avallone, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Story Merchant Books
Published: 2013-09-23T22:00:00+00:00

10

Now, Voyeur

Well, there it was. I didn’t have the dollar bill, I didn’t have the faintest idea about its value, and old Samarko was going to have a high old time employing his own methods of persuasion. I had a good idea by now what those methods would be. Our nudity might have been a good idea as a psychological breaker-downer of our strength, but it was more than that. Dear Samarko was a real Eastern cowboy, and the weirdos in that set have some real original notions about sex. Not so original, maybe, since nothing is really new in sexual aberrations. But it was very plain now that Mr. Samarko would get a great deal of personal pleasure watching his ugly flunky rape Melissa Mercer, thereby humiliating me in the process.

I wasn’t sure that he would stop now, even if I blurted out everything he wanted to know.

His little eyes were glazing over, and a pink tongue was washing over his baby-fat mouth. Rollo still had his guns up, but the show was somewhere in its opening stages. I didn’t see how they expected me to take it. My hands were untied, and even though I was using them to hold my lace and linen in place, there was a limit to my personal modesty.

I didn’t like it, though. The setup. Samarko was too sure of himself. He didn’t take his eyes off Melissa, but his next words were still for me.

“A charming companion, Mr. Noon. Such deep, exquisite color. A fine specimen of the Negro race. This should be most interesting. Dear Rollo can be most persuasive.”

Melissa held her ground, head high. “That little clown comes near me, I’ll scream.”

“Hold it, Mel,” I said quietly. “That obviously doesn’t mean a thing to him. This room is either soundproof or we’re just too far off the beaten track.”

As if to remind me of the outside world, the muffled roar of the subway sounded again. From far off, like a whooshing sound in a big barrel.

Samarko chuckled. “Not so far, Mr. Noon. We are on Third Avenue in the Forties. But, as you say, we are rather down below the street level. Yes, to scream would be useless. Come, Mr. Noon. The truth about the bill now. Rollo waxes impatient.”

“If he gets any hotter he’ll melt,” I snapped. “Look, Sam. He lays a finger on her, you’ll have to kill me. He’ll have to fire those guns. Then where are you? If I do know about the bill you’d be bumping off the one man that knows. Stop me if I’m wrong.”

His expression soured. “You would die for this black woman? You Occidentals.” He shook his fezzed head. “So weak, so sentimental. Bah, what is she? The spawn of the gods. There are others. There will always be others.”

“I told you.” I kept an eye out for Rollo. “She’s more than a secretary. And I won’t argue about people with you. There’s no time for that.”

Mel laughed nervously. “Ed, don’t do anything silly.

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