Matt Helm 13 - The Poisoners by Donald Hamilton

Author:Donald Hamilton [Hamilton, Donald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Helm 13
Published: 2012-07-14T18:29:16+00:00

"Ladies occupying my bed generally call me Matt," I said. "How's the allergy?"

It was a casual, conversation-making question designed simply to put her at ease, but she took it seriously, hesitating over the answer as if it really mattered.

"Well," she said reluctantly, "well, if you must know, it's terrible. Or was. It seems to be considerably better now, but I had some kind of an asthma attack on the way down. I really thought for a while I wasn't going to make it here; I could hardly breathe. It was all I could do to keep the car on the road. That's why, when I got in here and found the room empty, I just couldn't help flopping down on the bed for a moment, but I had no intention of. . . . My God, I look like something thrown out with the trash! If you want to be a gentleman, you can

discreetly avert your eyes, just for a moment."

I said, "Cut it out, Charlie. A gentleman? A trigger-happy super-spook like me?"

She flushed slightly and, rather defiantly, rose and turned her back on me and went through the contortions necessary to take the slack out of her sagging hosepants. Then, without deigning to look my way, she moved stiffly to the dresser. After making a wry face at her reflection in the mirror, she smoothed down her outer garments neatly, buttoned the collar of her blouse, and patted her short, crisp hair into place.

"Matt."

"Yes, Charlie."

"You don't like me very much, do you?"

"Now, what brought that on?" I asked.

"The way you keep throwing my words in my face. Heavens, I didn't think you'd be so

sensitive, in your line of work. If you want me to apologize, well, all right, I will. I am very sorry I called you a trigger-happy superspook, Mr. Helm."

It reminded me of Lionel McConnell, dying, apologizing for calling me a honkie bastard.

The memory was not a happy one, particularly now that I knew he'd been shot down just to

make me believe that Beverly Blaine was also in danger.

I said, "That's not the point. It's not what you call me, it's what you are while you're calling me that-and while you're talking about my 'line of work' as if it gave you a pain in your tummy."

She turned slowly to look at me, frowning. "That's a little complicated, Matt. You're going to have to explain it."

I said, "Hell, I'm just mildly allergic to cops, that's all. Particularly dedicated cops with high-moral, law-enforcement missions. And most particularly dedicated cops with high-moral, law-enforcement missions who look down their long blue noses at me and my job."

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