Matt Helm 08 - The Ravagers by Donald Hamilton

Author:Donald Hamilton [Hamilton, Donald]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Helm
Published: 2012-07-14T18:29:10+00:00

Chapter XIII

The Voyager Club is to Montreal, I guess, what Stallmästaregãrden is to Stockholm or

Antoine's is to New Orleans- to drop the names of a couple of classy restaurants I've been forced to visit in the line of duty. I found it a large, rambling, dimly-lighted room on the ground floor of the hotel. The waiters were dressed like old-time French-Canadians about to embark on a fur-trading expedition into the primitive American wilderness. There were old utensils and weapons hanging on the walls.

It was the kind of atmosphere that could seem either contrived and fakey, or just pleasantly and comfortably old-fashioned, depending on the skill with which it was handled and whether or not it was used to cover up deficiencies in the culinary department. My first impression was favorable, but I reserved judgment until I could see the service and taste the food.

Mrs. Drilling and Miss Drilling were already established at a table when I entered from the lobby. Before my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, I had a little trouble telling them apart from across the room. They were dressed identically: Genevieve was wearing a jumper and blouse just like Penny's, and her hair was also combed up big. In theory, I suppose these mother-and-daughter outfits are a cute idea. In practice they never seem to work out well except on magazine covers; I suppose because a thirty-five-year-old woman isn't likely to look her best in something that makes a fifteen-year-old kid look like a living doll.

Genevieve looked up when I stopped by the table. Her eyes didn't exactly display the warm light of eager hospitality. She waited for me to speak.

I said, "This is real kind of you, ma'am."

She said in a neutral voice, "It wasn't my idea. My gullible daughter seems to be suffering from an acute attack of hero-worship. She's at the impressionable age."

"Oh, Mummy!" said Penny, pained.

"Sit down, Mr. Clevenger," Genevieve said. "The counsel for the defense has made me promise you a fair hearing, but maybe we should have a drink before you present your evidence and your arguments to the court."

"Yes, ma'am," I said, seating myself between the two ladies. "Reckon I could go for a martini, ma'am."

"Oh, no!" Genevieve protested. "Not a martini, Mr. Clevenger! That doesn't go with your Western act at all. Bourbon and branch water should be your tipple, or corn whiskey straight from the jug."

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