The Intimidators by Donald Hamilton

Author:Donald Hamilton
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Titan

15

It was a beautiful, cool, quiet, Florida fall evening with plenty of stars but no moon. That is, it was beautiful and quiet once we turned off the garish Keys highway and headed down past the Faro Blanco office along one of the treelined resort drives. My cabin was dark when we reached it. I kept on driving. Harriet stirred beside me.

“I thought you had Number Twenty-six,” she said.

“I never told you that,” I said. “You’ve been snooping. If you know so much, maybe you can tell me why the light isn’t on.”

She laughed. “Don’t overdo the secret agent bit, darling.”

I said, “A gent named Ramsay Pendleton, a fine, up-standing British operative, was supposed to be waiting for us in my place, with the light on. My chief knows I don’t like meeting people in the dark when I don’t have to, even people I know; and there’s no reason for us to be mysterious tonight. Well, the light isn’t on. Can you offer an explanation?”

Now she was angry. “Damn it, of course I can’t, Matt. How the hell could I?”

“I don’t know; I was just asking,” I said mildly. “After all, I never did learn just how the Mickey got into that drink you served me all those years ago, either.” I pulled onto the grass at the side of the driveway and grinned at her in the darkness. “Relax, I was just needling you. But this is for serious: wait here. You’re not dressed for prowling through the bushes, and it isn’t safe. That cabin of mine seems to have a fascination for unsavory and unfriendly people tonight; I’ve already been jumped there once. Maybe I’m imagining things, but as far as I’m concerned, once I’m out there, anything that moves is hostile and I’m going to shoot hell out of it. I’ll be sorry if it turns out to be you, but my abject apologies won’t do you much good if you can’t hear them. So please don’t set foot outside this car until I get back. Okay?”

I took the short-barreled Smith and Wesson from under my belt; and slipped out of the car, eased the door closed, and made my way back through the maze of trees and cabins and little concrete walks. Out here I could hear the occasional sounds of voices and television sets, but the small, dark, white building in which I was interested was almost silent. The windows were all closed, as I’d left them. The air-conditioner was running, making a small whirring sound, that was all. I remembered turning it on earlier. Well, maybe Ramsay Pendleton hadn’t got here yet; the question was why. Mac’s scheduling usually works as planned; he’d have made a good train-dispatcher. Maybe our British associate had been here and left, and again the question was why.

There was no easy way of doing it. There was only one door. I had to pass through it. It took me longer than it normally takes a citizen to enter a room he’s rented for the night; but once I started to go, I went a lot lower and faster.

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