Venom Business by Michael Crichton

Author:Michael Crichton [Crichton, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-1-4532-9930-2
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2013-06-17T19:05:00+00:00

Burgess, the butler, was on the second-floor hall phone in Black’s house, speaking in a low voice. “Yes, madam. No, nothing else. Of course, madam. I will.”

He hung up and walked briskly down the hall.

Black peered around the corner and smiled. Poor Lucienne. So suspicious in her old age—but so obvious about it. And to choose Burgess, a doddering old fool who nipped the Teacher’s in the evening and then remarked in the morning that the maid must have been at it again. Burgess was as subtle as a water buffalo.

Black had known about Burgess and his daily calls for almost a year. He had made the discovery by chance, but it had not surprised him. Considering Lucienne, it was almost predictable. She was paranoid about men, convinced that they were all out to ruin and destroy her.

Which was true, in a sense, but only in a sense. The interesting thing was her attitude toward Black. Even with the evidence staring her in the face, she refused to believe, to make the final step toward acceptance. She had deluded herself for years.

It had begun with the moment her husband was killed. The passing Citroën had only knocked him unconscious; he was not badly injured, and a few brisk slaps on the face would have brought him round good as new. But Black had pretended the injury was serious, and she had accepted the judgment though her eyes must have told her the truth. And then driving, with Black in the back seat holding his hand over Pierce’s mouth and pinching the nose shut with his fingers, until the last heartbeat had died away….

Lucienne had known all along. She must have known.

Actually, Black had not planned the accident. It had been in the back of his mind, but he had not planned it, and when it had happened and the Citroën sped away, he had reacted quickly and smoothly. In a matter of minutes, Pierce was dead and Black could begin the tiresome charade of mouth-to-mouth respiration and rubbing the limbs. The ministrations served another purpose as well: they kept the corpse fresh-looking for the half-hour ride to the hospital.

A fresh-looking corpse, he knew from experience, was important.

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