Дональд Уэстлейк - Forever and a Death

“What time is it?”

Manville looked up from his paperback, to see Kim half-risen, blinking at him in the dim illumination from the bedside lamp. “Hi,” he said, and looked at his watch. “Quarter to nine.”

“Day or night?”

He had shut the blinds over the only window. “Night.”

Slowly she blinked again, absorbing that information, then looked startled and said, “My God. I’ve been asleep...”

“Almost ten hours.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I thought you needed it.”

“I thought I needed lunch.” She sat up the rest of the way, wincing and clutching briefly at her rib cage, then said, “Now I’m really starving. Now I need lunch and dinner both.”

“Fine.”

She rubbed her eyes. “What’s that you’re reading?”

He showed her the cover. “It’s a caper story, called Payback , by an Australian writer named Gary Driver. He’s imitating the Americans, but he’s pretty good. He’s teaching me how to behave in dangerous situations.”

Grinning at him, she said, “You behave fine.”

“Thank you.” With a nod of the head toward the packages on the bed next to him, he said, “I got you some stuff. Toothbrush, toothpaste. Some more clothes. Don’t know if they’ll fit.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.” She put her legs over the side to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Maybe you want to shower and change before we go out.”

“I would. Is that okay?”

Getting to his feet, dropping the paperback on the empty bed, he said, “I’ll just try my friend in Houston again while you shower.”

She blinked around at the room. “Oh. There’s no phone.”

“There’s one by the office.”

“You’re going to call someone at this hour?”

“Thirteen-hour time difference. It’s quarter to ten tomorrow morning in Houston, Gary should be just coming into the office this minute.”

Rising, tottering a little, she said, “When you come back, I’ll be transformed. And hungrier than ever.”

“I’ll be quick,” he promised, and left the room, and walked around to the front of the building.

The pay phone was in an alcove just inside the office door, separated from the main part of the office by a plywood partition; not a lot of privacy, but some. Manville used his phone card to make the call, and after one false try got the receptionist at Gary’s offices. “Millbrook and Tennyson.”

There was no way to tell from that what sort of firm they were, but Gary Millbrook and his partner were architectural consultants, not the designers of structures for the most part but the people brought in by large corporate clients to vet the designs of others and make corrections and improvements where needed. George had worked with the company several times over the years, and he and Gary had gradually moved from a business relationship to an easygoing friendship.

“George Manville for Mr. Millbrook.”

“One moment.”

It was about three moments, in fact, and then Gary’s familiar voice came on, saying, “If you want to know do I believe it, of course I don’t. Is there something I can do to help?”

“What?” It seemed to Manville that Gary was starting well into the conversation, reacting to Manville before Manville had told him anything.

“I don’t know how you got Richard Curtis mad,” Gary went on, “but I assume he’s playing dirty pool here.”

“Gary, Gary, back up a little. What are you talking about?”

“ The Wall Street Journal , of course.”

“What about it?”

“George? Aren’t you calling about the piece in today’s Journal , that I just read maybe three minutes ago?”

“I’m in Australia,” Manville explained. “I haven’t seen the Journal .”

There was a startled pause, and when Gary spoke again his manner was subtly different: “You mean you are in Australia?”

“Yes. Why? What does the Journal say?”

“It’s a short piece deep in the paper, they don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“What does it say, Gary?”

“It says that yesterday Richard Curtis swore out a warrant against you in Brisbane, Australia—”

“A warrant!”

“—for industrial espionage. You’re described in the piece— It’s short, I could read it to you, if you want.”

“Just tell me what it says.”

“It says you’ve been working for Richard Curtis.”

“That’s true.”

“And it says you were doing things for him having to do with a new destination resort he’s building out on the Great Barrier Reef.”

“Still true.”

“And that Curtis just now found out that you tried to sell trade and business secrets to a Swiss company called Intertekno, whose principal owner is a financier named Robert Bendix.”

“I’ve never heard of Robert Bendix, or Inter whatever.”

“He claims you went to Bendix personally and showed him some documents,” Gary said. “According to the Journal piece, Bendix neither confirms nor denies, and Curtis has a warrant for your arrest on various felony charges, including theft of privileged documents belonging to him, and you have disappeared. You were last seen in Brisbane.”

“I’m still in Brisbane,” George said. “Or near it.”

“Well, that’s probably not a good career move, George. On the other hand, you really shouldn’t try to come home, or leave that country for anywhere else, because they’ll surely grab you at the airport and then you will look guilty.”

“Oh, he’s done it to me, hasn’t he?”

“Give me your number,” Gary offered, “I’ll ask around, get the name of a good lawyer for you over there.”

“I’ll have to call you back,” Manville said. “What if I call you at noon your time, would that be too soon?”

“No, fine. I should have something by then.”

“Thanks, Gary.”

“You’re in a mess, huh?”

“A rotten one.”

“Tell me about it when it’s all over.”

“I’m looking forward to the day.”

“I’m afraid you broke the old rule, George,” Gary told him. “Never fight with somebody whose pockets are deeper than yours.”

“Now you tell me,” Manville said, but he didn’t feel much like joking. “I’ll call you in two hours.”

“I’ll be here.”

Walking back to the room, wondering what he would tell Kim, Manville thought, Curtis doesn’t have to have me killed, not anymore. He doesn’t have to kill me, because he just did.

The pleasant pale green skirt was a wraparound, which meant it had to fit her. The blouse was loose, creamy white, scoop-necked. The panties were stretchy, and would do for now. He had wisely not tried to buy her a bra.

All in all, Kim was satisfied not only with the clothing, but with Manville himself. From time to time, when she remembered the suddenness with which he’d shot that man on the ship, she felt astonishment all over again, because he just didn’t seem like that kind at all. He was so reserved and low-key most of the time that you didn’t ever expect anything sudden from him, and certainly never anything violent.

She had gotten over both her panic and her deep exhaustion by now, and was beginning to return to her normal optimistic self. She’d removed the Ace bandage in order to shower, and though her torso felt stiff and achy without it, and there were still twinges in her rib cage if she breathed too suddenly, she felt she’d rather try to live without that wrapping from now on. The long sleep had helped, the shower had helped, the fresh clothing had helped, and the knowledge that George Manville was reliably at her side helped a lot.

She heard him come back into the room after his phone call, and shouted, “Be right out!”