Cast a Yellow Shadow Read Free Page B

while. When enough parking lots were put together, the speculators would apply for a government-insured loan, build an apartment house, and call it The Melanie or The Daphne after a wife or a girl friend. The rents for a two-bedroom apartment in those places were based on the supposition that both husband and wife were not only richly employed, but lucky in the stockmarket.
    Nobody ever seemed to care what had happened to the students, waiters, car washers, pensioners and the professional tire changers.
    Mush parked the car in the circular driveway where it said no parking and we rode the elevator up to the eighth floor.
    â€œFredl will be glad to see you,” I told Padillo. “She might even invite you to dinner.” I opened the door. The light from one large lamp burned in the livingroom, but the lamp had been knocked to the floor and the shade was lying a foot or so away. I went over and picked up the lamp, put it on the table, and replaced the shade. I looked in the bedrooms, but that seemed a foolish thing to do. She wasn’t there. I walked back into the living room and Padillo was standing near the record player, holding a piece of paper in his right hand. Mush stood by the door.
    â€œA note,” I said.
    â€œA note,” he agreed.
    â€œBut not from Fredl.”
    â€œNo. It’s from whoever took her away.”
    â€œA ransom note,” I said. I didn’t want to read it.
    â€œSort of.”
    â€œHow much do they want?”
    Padillo saw that I didn’t want to read the note. He put it down on the coffee table.
    â€œNot much,” he said. “Just me.”

THREE
    I sat down in my favorite chair and looked at the carpet. Then I watched Padillo turn to Mush and say: “You may as well go on back. This will take a while.” I looked at Mush. He nodded his head. “Anything you want me to do?” he asked. He sounded interested.
    â€œNothing right now,” Padillo said.
    He nodded his head again. “You know where to get in touch.”
    â€œI know,” Padillo said.
    Mush turned quickly and left. He closed the door and the lock barely made a noise as it clicked into place. I looked around the livingroom. The pictures were still on the walls, some that Fredl had brought from Germany, some I had brought, and some that we had decided on together in Washington and New York. The books were still in the bookcase that covered one wall. The furniture, an odd assortment, but comfortable, was still in place. Only a lamp had been upset. I liked the room. It had a couple of personalities in it. There was a small bar in one corner that was a facet of one of those personalities. I got up and walked over to it.
    â€œScotch?” I asked Padillo.
    â€œScotch.”
    â€œWhat’s the note say?”
    â€œYou’d better read it.”
    â€œAll right. I’ll read it.”
    I handed him the Scotch. He picked up the note and handed it to me. It was typed, single-spaced, undated, and unsigned.
    Dear Mr. McCorkle:
    We have taken Mrs. McCorkle into our custody. By this time you will have heard from your colleague, Mr. Michael Padillo, who was due to arrive in Baltimore this evening aboard the Frances Jane. When Mr. Padillo has performed the assignment which we have requested of him, we shall release Mrs. McCorkle quite unharmed.
    We must caution you, however, not to inform the police or the Federal Bureau of Investigation, or any other law enforcement agency. If you do so, or should Mr. Padillo fail to carry out his assignment, we regretfully, but of necessity, will dispose of Mrs. McCorkle.
    Mr. Padillo will be able to brief you fully about his assignment. The continued well-being of Mrs. McCorkle depends upon his willingness to cooperate. He has been uncooperative until now. We regret that we must use this method of persuasion.
    I read it twice and then put it back on the coffee table. “Why Fredl?” I asked.
    â€œBecause I wouldn’t do it