1949 - You're Lonely When You Dead Read Online Free Page A

things Mr. Cerf doesn’t approve of,’ she said lightly. ‘You have no idea how many. One more won’t make any difference. May I have a cigarette, please?’
    I gave her a Lucky Strike and my lighter, and while she was tapping the cigarette on her scarlet thumbnail I said, ‘I wasn’t expecting visitors. I’m busy.’
    ‘Then let’s be quick,’ she said, lighting her cigarette. ‘Why is this woman spying on me?’
    ‘You’ll still have to ask Mr. Cerf.’
    ‘You’re not being very polite, are you? I thought you would be pleased to see me. Most men are. Could I have a drink, do you think?’
    I went over to the row of bottles that stood on a table against the wall. While I fixed a couple of highballs the silence became thick enough to slice up with a hacksaw.
    As I handed her the drink she smiled up at me. Being on the receiving end of that smile was like stepping on a live cable.
    ‘Thank you,’ she said. Her long spiked eyelashes flickered. ‘There’s no one here, is there?’
    ‘That’s right. How did you run me to earth?’
    ‘Oh, that wasn’t very difficult. I saw your car and found it belonged to Universal Services. The butler told me your name. I turned up the telephone book and here I am.’
    ‘No wonder private detectives go out of business.’
    ‘Are you a private detective?’
    ‘No, nothing like that.’
    ‘What exactly is Universal Services?’
    ‘An organization that undertakes any conceivable or inconceivable job that happens along, providing it is legal and ethical.’
    ‘And spying on a woman is ethical?’
    ‘That depends on the woman, Mrs. Cerf.’
    ‘And my husband has asked you to spy on me, is that it?’
    ‘Is it? I don’t remember saying anything like that.’
    She drank some of the highball, put down the glass and stared at me. I don’t know if she found my face fascinating or if she were trying to hypnotize me, but she was certainly doing a lot of staring.
    ‘Why is this woman following me about?’
    This seemed to be where we had come in so I give her the same answer.
    ‘Mr. Cerf will tell you if he wants you to know.’
    She lifted her shoulders a little impatiently and looked around the room. It wasn’t anything a millionaire’s wife would get excited about. Tony, my Filipino boy, kept it cleaner than a pigsty, but not much. The furniture was no great shakes, and that went for the paintwork and carpet too. The only pictures on the walls were Vargas’s pinups I had ripped out of Esquire from time to time, but I had to live in the joint and it was all right with me.
    ‘It can’t be a very paying job, can it?’ she asked.
    ‘You mean my job?’ I said, turning my glass around in my hand so I could admire the amber liquor from all angles.
    ‘Yes. You don’t make much money, do you? I was judging by this room.’
    I made believe to give the matter serious attention.
    ‘Well, I don’t know,’ I said at last. ‘It depends on what you call much money. I can’t afford to wear diamonds, but I reckon I make a bit more than a mannequin would make, and I have a lot of fun.’
    That hit her where it hurt. Her mouth tightened and a faint flush rose to her face.
    ‘Meaning you don’t have to marry money to get along, is that it?’ she asked, her eyes snapping.
    ‘That would be the general idea.’
    ‘But a thousand dollars would be useful to you, wouldn’t it?’
    She was lovely to look at, and too dangerous to be alone with, and I had had all I wanted from the Cerfs for the time being. I stood up.
    ‘I’m sorry, Mrs. Cerf, but I’m not in the market. I have my job to think of. It may not be much, but oddly enough I like it. I don’t sell my clients out. It wouldn’t do. One of these days you might want me to help you. You wouldn’t like me to sell you out, would you?’
    She drew in a deep breath, but after a struggle she managed to switch on the smile again.
    ‘You’re quite right,’ she said. ‘Putting it that way I suppose I shouldn’t have come