The Death Dealers Read Free

off I had the driver cruise back to my place, checked out of the hotel and moved downtown seven blocks to the Barnes House and signed in under T. Mann, Los Angeles, California.
    It was exactly a quarter to ten.
    I called the desk, gave the operator Rondine’s number, and heard her lift the phone. The simple word “Hello” was said with the velvety tone that only generations of culture and good breeding can achieve.
    “Tiger, sugar.”
    She felt the tightness in my voice instinctively. “You’ve found trouble again.” It was a statement, not a question.
    “It found me.”
    After a moment she sought her voice again. There was no sting in it now, no recrimination, just that same touch of sadness that had been there the last time it happened like this. “We should have gone away, Tiger. In two more days we would have been married. The trouble couldn’t have found you then.”
    “This one would.”
    “Yes,” she said slowly, “I rather imagine it would.”
    “Can I see you?”
    “It’s ... late.”
    “Not that late.”
    “Tomorrow, Tiger.” I let her hang up, then eased the phone back on the cradle.
    So now I was a slob again, a person who didn’t belong in the world. I’d have to go up there and explain. I’d have to look into those purple eyes of hers and lie because she wouldn’t understand the truth. She’d be waiting. So was Teddy.
    Who came first? Why ask when I knew the answer already.
    The National flight out of Washington dropped the new man into La Guardia a few minutes after two A.M. Martin Grady had cleared the contact personally and I was able to recognize him by the bag he carried, a slightly built young guy about twenty-five who could have passed for a travel-weary junior executive about to make a suburban pad for the weekend, kiss an anxious wife and kids hello and have a couple of large belts before going into his routine.
    But I knew better when I saw the way he walked and knew that under the gray suit he was one of those stringy types that was all trained muscle and ready to prove he could earn his keep in the organization.
    I let him get loaded into the cab and give the driver a destination before I hopped in behind him and said, “Hi, kid, you flying?”
    The cabbie started to turn it on, then the guy said, “Low down, man. Keep going, friend.” He grinned at me. “Lennie Byrnes.”
    We shook hands briefly after the identification and I knew he had heard too damn much about me because his eyes were shiny with excitement and he tried too hard to put a squeeze into the grip.
    “You got the poop?”
    He nodded. “Ears only. When we’re in the hotel.”
    “Your first time out?”
    “I’ve been on office detail until now.”
    “Stay loose,” I told him. “You’re just a courier. Maybe later you’ll see the big stuff.”
    “Okay, so I’m anxious. I’m hoping something will happen. After the delivery it’s up to you what I do. Until you release me I take orders from you.”
    “How far has your training gone?”
    “The committee had me for six months, after that another six with the lab and three in the field. I was on the Cosmos bit and did the legwork for Hollendale in Formosa.”
    “Good job. Who was your instructor?”
    “Bradley.” He grinned at me crookedly. “Seems like you were his. He filled me in on a lot of wild stories.”
    “He talks too much. Don’t let him scare you.”
    Central had arranged quarters for him at the Calvin, a tenth-floor rear two-room suite, designating him as a representative for one of Martin Grady’s various companies. Just the same, we checked the place out completely to make sure it hadn’t been bugged. Any of Grady’s or his associates’ companies were under constant surveillance by Washington teams since the striped pants boys instigated an investigation a few months back, and they could be as instrumental in stopping our action as the Reds could if we let them get that close.
    I let him get unpacked, turned the TV up loud