LITMIR.BIZ

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his hip. I smiled as his face smacked against the floor.

      I would have let him alone then, let him limp back downstairs with a sore ankle and a sore nose, but he made the mistake of going for a gun.

      I caught the glitter of it as it swung towards me, and I kicked at it. It fell from his hand, skittering towards a corner, and he threw himself after it. I trod on his hand just as he reached the butt.

      ‘Cut it out,’ I snapped. ‘You’re getting your uniform all dirty.’

      He swore and clawed at me with his free hand. I stepped back and, as he tried to grab the gun, I swung my foot against the joint of his jaw. He sighed, his head jerking back, then sagged as he collapsed on the floor.

      I picked up the gun, a .38 automatic, and poised it in my hand. It was a cheap, nickel-plated job, nothing special and probably as erratic as hell, but at close quarters it could kill a man just as surely as the most expensive hand-weapon ever made. I slipped out the magazine, thumbed the cartridges onto the desk, then jerked the slide to expel the one in the chamber. Releasing the slide, I threw the empty weapon down beside the sleeping man. Lighting a cigarette, I swept the cartridges into a drawer, then sat down on the edge of the desk, frowning at the unconscious figure on the floor.

      I was still staring when the door opened and a man walked into the office.

      He was an old man, tired, his face bearing the stamp of a lifetime of years. He stood, wheezing a little, leaning heavily on a snake-wood cane. His clothes were good, his soft hat probably cost more than I owed; his shoes were the kind which had their own last. Gold gleamed from his wrist, his cuffs, his fingers, and his teeth. He looked at me, then at the sleeping beauty, then at me again.

      ‘Yours?’ I blew smoke towards the chauffeur, and raised my eyebrows. He nodded.

      ‘What happened?’ His voice was a dry whisper, sounding like the rustle of dead leaves as they rubbed together when driven by the wind.

      ‘He and I had a difference of opinion,’ I said casually. ‘I won.’

      ‘Get him out of here, Mr. Lantry.’

      ‘You know me?’ I nodded. ‘And you must be Colonel Geeson.’

      He nodded and slumped into the customer’s chair. I went across to the water cooler and filled a paper cup. I threw water and cup into the chauffeur’s face. It didn’t seem to do any good, so I picked up his feet and dragged him out of the office and into the corridor outside. It was cold out there, and dark, a good place to sleep. I picked up the empty gun and threw it beside him, then returned to my desk.

      The old man stared at me, watching with his cold, snake-like eyes, and I sighed as I sat down and lit a cigarette.

      ‘Why didn’t you come when I sent for you?’ he demanded.

      ‘You,’ I reminded him, ‘stated that you would be coming to see me on private and urgent business. It’s that difficult, the privacy I mean, with a chauffeur present?’

      ‘The driving compartment is sealed,’ he said absently. ‘Was that your only reason?’

      ‘Perhaps.’

      ‘Or was it to impress me with your independence?’ He stared at me with his glittering eyes. ‘Arrogance isn’t independence, Mr. Lantry.’

      ‘A man values what he wants,’ I said. ‘If he values it enough, he will go and get it. Also,’ I dragged at the cigarette, ‘if you’d have wanted to meet me in your car you could have said so.’

      ‘Caution.’ He nodded. ‘I was told that you were a cautious man.’

      ‘By whom?’

      ‘By the man who recommended that I should see you.’ He obviously wasn’t going to give me the name and I was tired of playing games. I got down to business.

      ‘Well, what can I do for you?’

      ‘You can help me,’ he whispered, and something seemed to relax deep inside of him. I’d seen it before, that relaxation. It’s always nice to know that you’ve got someone to do your worrying for you, especially when you’ve got the money to pay for it. ‘You see, Lantry, it’s my wife. She—’

      ‘Hold it.’ I pulled a scratch-pad towards me and made some pothooks. ‘Let’s start at the beginning. You’re Colonel Geeson, you have a big house on Lower Manhattan, and a permanent penthouse off Fifth Avenue. You also own ten million dollars.’

      ‘That is correct.’ He didn’t show his surprise at my knowing his business. Almost everybody would know that.

      ‘Good. Now who is the boy-scout?’

      ‘My chauffeur? Marvin. Peter Marvin, a nice boy, Harvard, I think.’ He frowned as if that were of no importance.

      ‘Been with you long?’

      ‘Three years.’ He shifted as though he found the chair hard, which he probably did. ‘Is all this important?’

      ‘I’m always interested in the hired help.’ I could have added that I was interested in finding out why Marvin had wanted to kill me, but I didn’t say so. ‘Now, you mentioned your wife. What about her?’

      ‘She has disappeared. She left home two days ago, hasn’t been seen or heard from since. I’m worried, Lantry.’

      ‘A natural emotion. Have you been to the police?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Why not? They are the most suitable and obvious people to find her. They can check the hospitals, the morgue, the—’

      ‘I have already done that,’ he interrupted impatiently. ‘I am not wholly a fool, Lantry. When Norma, my wife, didn’t return home, I had my lawyers check every possible place she might be.’ He looked baffled. ‘They couldn’t find her.’

      ‘And you think I could?’

      ‘Yes. I think that if any man could find her, you are that man.’

      ‘Thank you.’ It was a compliment and it was sincere. I poised my pencil. ‘I take it that your wife is an elderly woman?’

      ‘No.’ He licked his thin lips with a nervous gesture, a quick, darting movement of his tongue. ‘This is my second marriage,’ he explained. ‘My first wife died a short while ago and I married again.’

      ‘I see. Children?’

      ‘Two. My son, Stephan, is twenty-five. My daughter, Susan, is a year younger. There are no children of my second marriage.’ He didn’t say that there wouldn’t be, but it was as plain as the nose on his face.

      ‘They live with you?’

      ‘Yes. They live with Norma and I. We have a few servants and do little entertaining.’ He coughed and took a square of linen from his pocket. ‘Is all this essential, Lantry?’

      ‘It could be.’ I waited until he had finished dabbing at his lips. ‘About your second wife, Colonel?’

      ‘I married her about six months ago. She was, is, a sweet child, rather headstrong, but that is to be expected.’ He didn’t seem to have noticed his slip. ‘Our relationship was more that of father and daughter than husband and wife.’

      I nodded, not believing him, but I wasn’t paid to give opinions. ‘History?’

      ‘What?’ He blinked. ‘Is that necessary?’

      ‘You want me to find her, don’t you?’ I leaned back in my chair. ‘What am I supposed to do, go round asking every woman I meet whether or not she is your missing wife?’ I shrugged. ‘At thirty dollars a day plus expenses, I’d be willing to spend the rest of my life on the job. Can you afford to wait that long?’

      ‘I have a photograph here.’ He slipped an oblong of pasteboard from an inner pocket. ‘You will find all relevant details on the back.’

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