Dirt Read Free Page A

work out the final language when your man gets home.”
    Hickock read the document quickly and signed all four copies. Amanda signed them, and Eggers left two with the publisher.
    Amanda stood up. “I’m so
thrilled
that we’re going to be together for another four years, darling,” she said. She met him halfway around the desk, and they embraced. “And don’t forget dinner, Friday, at seven.” She turned to Eggers. “Can I give you a lift, Bill?” She took his arm and steered him toward the door. At the threshold she turned and looked at Hickock, who was gazing at his sandwich. “Oh, Dick, they have just the car I want at that Mercedes showroom on Park Avenue.” She returned to the desk and laid a card on it. “The man said they could deliver it at five; all it takes is a phone call from you.” “We’ll be trading your Cadillac, right?” Hickock asked.
    “Oh, Dick, you
are
funny; I’ve already sold it.” She swept out of the office.
    In the car, Bill Eggers wiped his brow. “Amanda, I don’t know why you need me at all,” he said.
    Amanda patted his hand. “Somebody has to do the boilerplate, dear.”
     
Chapter 3
     
    Richard Hickock left his office at four o’clock, stopping briefly at his secretary’s desk. “Anybody calls, tell them I’m in the building somewhere for a meeting, you don’t know where, and I won’t be back at my desk by the end of the day.” “Yes, sir,” the woman replied.
    Hickock took his private elevator to the basement garage, where his white Mercedes S600 was waiting. “Ralph, I think I’ll take a walk in the park,” he said to his chauffeur.
    “Of course, Mr. Hickock,” the chauffeur replied. “You’ve been walking in the park a lot lately. Good for the heart.”
    “Right,” Hickock said, taking one of his magazines, not his favorite, from the leather pocket on the back of the front seat. He leafed idly through it, making mental notes, one of them to fire the magazine’s art director. He wasn’t seeing enough tits in the book these days, and the man had ignored his request for more.
    Presently, the car stopped at an entrance to Central Park on Fifth Avenue in the sixties. Hickock opened his own door. “Hover around here, and pick me up in an hour and ten minutes.” He knew from experience exactly how long this would take. The car pulled away; Hickock crossed Fifth Avenue and walked briskly to an elegantly restored townhouse apartment building, using his key to open the downstairs door. As it was about to close, a young man stepped into the hallway behind him, holding what appeared to be a sack of groceries.
    “Thanks,” the young man said. “I didn’t have a hand free to look for my key.”
    “Don’t mention it,” Hickock said, stepping into the elevator. The young man followed him into the car.
    “Nice day out there,” the young man said.
    “Great time of the year.” The elevator stopped on the fourth floor, and Hickock got out. “See you,” he said.
    “You bet,” the young man replied.
     
     
    The young man got off the elevator on the floor above and walked down a flight, peeking over the banister rail to see Hickock letting himself into an apartment. He noted that there was only one apartment on the floor, so he was unlikely to be disturbed. He walked to the apartment door, set his grocery bag on the floor, removed a loaf of bread, and pulled out an electronic stethoscope. He placed the receivers in his ears, switched it on, and held the listening part against the apartment door.
     
     
    Inside, Hickock was greeted by a very beautiful young woman wearing a silk dressing gown.
    “Oh, Dick,” she breathed, taking his face in her hands. “I’ve been so excited ever since you called.”
    Hickock kissed her lightly, then untied the gown’s sash, exposing her naked body underneath. He caressed her large breasts and felt the nipples rise. “Then you must be ready for me,” he said.
    “Oh, yes,” she sighed, taking him by the hand.