Kill as Directed Read Free Page B

your car, Harry?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThen suppose you take the lady home. I’ve got to get a good night’s sleep tonight—I’m due in court in the morning on a tricky case. You don’t mind, do you, Karen? And don’t bother to lie. Waiter?”
    They left Tony Mitchell paying the check.
    He drove her home and double-parked in the gloom of Park Avenue near the Greshams’ duplex. She threw herself into his arms, kissing, straining, clinging. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”
    Harry Brown said nothing. He clutched her and said nothing. What was there to say?
    â€œWhat are we going to do, darling? What are we going to do?”
    He made no answer. He had no answer.
    Then she said, “He’s going out of town for the weekend. I’ll see you Friday night and Saturday night and Sunday night. Alone. No one else. Yes? Yes, Harry?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œGood night.”
    â€œI’ll take you in.”
    â€œNot tonight, darling. See you Friday. I’ll call you the moment he’s gone.”
    He drove downtown, guilt rumbling within him. Was he in love? Was he? He was certainly infatuated. But love … marriage…? She had been honest with him: She had married a rich old man quite simply for his riches—God knew he could understand that!—and she could not face the thought of losing it. Gresham would give her no grounds for divorce; he was mad about her. And if she should provide the grounds, she would get nothing. And yet … I love you, Harry. What are we going to do ?
    He slid into the parking space before his house on Barrow Street and locked the car.
    The dingy lobby was empty. He rode the creaky self-service elevator to the third floor, unlocked his apartment door, locked it behind him, snapped the light switch in the vestibule, threw his hat into the hall closet and went into the living room, fumbling for the switch. He found it and flicked it on and saw the girl.
    She was slight and blonde, staring up at him with wide-open eyes from the armchair. She wore a plain black suit, a white blouse, and black patent-leather shoes that glittered in the light. He had never seen her before.
    â€œHello?” Dr. Harry Brown said with a frown. “Who are you? How did you get into my apartment?”
    She did not answer. Just stared up at him.
    Then he knew.
    He went to her swiftly.
    She was dead.

TWO
    The man in charge reminded him comfortably of his father—an elderly, very tall, grizzled, and slightly stooped man, in clothes that hung as though they were a size too large for him. His gray eyes were clear, compassionate and weary, his voice slow, deep-toned, without urgency. He had introduced himself as Detective Lieutenant Galivan. While the technicians were busy with their apparatus, Galivan talked quietly with him.
    â€œYou’re sure you’ve never seen her before, Doctor?”
    â€œNever in my life.”
    â€œDo you have any idea who she might be?”
    â€œNot the slightest.”
    â€œA patient, maybe?”
    â€œAbsolutely not.”
    â€œSomeone who might have come to your office with a patient?”
    â€œIt’s possible, I suppose. All I can tell you is that, to the best of my recollection, I’ve never laid eyes on her before.”
    â€œAnd you have no idea—no idea at all—what she’s doing in your apartment?”
    â€œIt ought to be obvious,” Harry Brown said angrily. “Even to a cop. She’s dead in my apartment.”
    â€œWhoa, Doctor. Take it easy. If you’re telling the truth—”
    â€œAre you doubting me, for God’s sake?”
    â€œâ€”then I can understand your state of mind.” The detective showed his small tobacco-yellowed teeth in a smile. “But please try to understand mine. If you’re telling the truth, as I started to say, this doesn’t make much sense, does it? A woman you never laid eyes on turning up