the ice cold nude

“Naturally,” Myra said.

“What about the promotional tie-in with Elmo’s jewelry store? was that Patty’s, too?” I asked.

“No, sir!” He shook his head firmly. “Like I told you yesterday, that was definitely Machin’s.” His chest expanded suddenly as he took a deep breath. “Is all this so terribly significant?”

“Very,” I said, making like mysterious. “I have a feeling it’s vital.”

Rutter suddenly thrust his empty glass toward Myra. “Get me another drink,” he said shortly. “I need it.”

She got up from the couch, took the glass from his hand, and did a slow-motion jiggle across to the bar, it was wasted on Rutter—he didn’t even notice it.

“Did you ever get to see any of Louise’s paintings?” I asked him.

He shook his head. “She never had any—liked to keep her walls clear, she always said.”

“I mean anything she painted herself while she was going to those art classes?” I persisted.

He did a double take. “Louise—art classes!” He laughed shortly. “You’ve got the wrong girl, Boyd. Television was a little too intellectual for her, even. She never went to an art class in her life!”

“Sure, she did,” I said. “That’s where she met Byers.” “You can prove that?” he asked eagerly.

“Sure—I checked with the academy yesterday. They have her name on the register.”

“That’s good.” He took the fresh drink offered him by Myra without even noticing it, and drank greedily. “That’s good work, Boyd! Keep at it—I want results before that fool of a lieutenant does anything stupid.” “Sure I will,” I said solemnly.

He finished the drink and put the empty glass back into Myra’s hand. “Another?” Her voice was sardonic.

“No”—he glanced at his watch—“I have to get back to the plant. Any more questions, Boyd?”

“No, that’s all,” I told him.

“Well,” he smiled, almost happily. “I can see you’re making progress and I’m impressed!”

“I even made lunch for you,” Myra said coolly. “You might as well stay and have it, now you’re here.”

He checked his watch again, then shook his head. “No time. I’ve got an appointment at two and this guy’s important to me—can’t afford to be late. I’ll have to run.” “All right.” Myra shrugged resignedly. “I tried to be the good little housewife.”

“And you did very well, my dear,” he said, good-hum-oredly. “I should get home around seven tonight.” He started toward the door at a fast pace.

“Hold it!” I got onto my feet. “I’ll walk down with you, Rutter.”

He hesitated for a moment, without turning his head to look at me. “No need to do that, Boyd.” His voice was immensely casual. “I brought you all the way out here in the first place—it doesn’t seem fair to hound you right back, somehow. Why don’t you stay for a while and eat some of that lunch Myra’s got all ready?” His laugh was fine, but a fraction off key, “You’re my private army, Boyd, and an army always marches on its stomach, right?” He’d reached the door by then and kept right on going, walking very quickly. A second later I heard the front door shut.

The room was suddenly very quiet. I sat down on the couch again, lit a cigarette, picked up my half-finished drink, and finally looked up to meet the steady gaze of those sloe eyes.

“So what’s for lunch?” I said awkwardly.

Myra smiled slowly, her eyes wryly amused at the embarrassed nervousness of my voice.

“Congratulations,” she said. “You just got promoted to be an executive of the company!”

“You mean you have an executive lunch waiting in the kitchen?”

“You know damn well exactly what I mean, Danny Boyd,” she said calmly, “and it has nothing to do with lunch.”

Her eyes were getting that transparent look again revealing the well-banked furnace that must bum unceasingly in back of them. She came across to the couch and sat down beside me, her hands folded in her lap. “I’ll wait,” she said in a demure voice.

“Huh?”

“Until you’ve finished your cigarette—and your drink.” “Then what?”

She thought about it for a moment then stood up again. “I’ll give you a little demonstration and maybe you won’t take so long about that drink.”

She folded one arm behind her back and unzipped the beach dress, shrugged her arms clear, then let the dress fall slowly to the floor. That left her wearing a white bra and nylon briefs that fit snug and were very brief.

“Now you get the idea?” she said, grinning at me satani-cally. “Don’t try to kid me you didn’t get the idea right from the start?”

“How could I miss?” I said. “It was handed to me on a large plate.”

“James isn’t exactly the subde type, is he?” She was genuinely amused. “Suddenly he has great faith in you —the thought of that big rough lieutenant is enough to make him turn green!—and right now you’ve got him convinced that you’re the only one who can save him. So for the moment anything you want is yours for the asking, or like now, you don’t have to ask, even!”

I finished the drink, mashed the cigarette, and got onto my feet. Myra swayed a little toward me, enough to throw her off balance so she had to lean her whole body hard against mine.

“Why don’t we go into the guest room?” she asked in a soft voice. “I guarantee this time there will be no interruptions!”

“It’s a wonderful thought, honey,” I said sincerely, “and I could only wish there had been no interruptions yesterday.”

A puzzled look showed on her face for a moment. “What are you talking about, Danny?”

I put my hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back into an upright position again. “I’m sorry about the lunch,” I said lightly, “but I have to go now.” She still didn’t get it. “What’s the matter with you?” Her voice was tolerant. “Didn’t you get all the signals loud and clear? James gave you the royal invitation along with the royal approval. This is official, Danny! You have the master’s consent.”

“I know,” I said regretfully. “That’s the trouble with it.” Myra frowned. “Trouble?”

“I’ve met some sons of bitches in my time,” I grated, “but I’ll be damned if I’ll take any favors from the biggest I ever met—one who figures he’ll make me a present of his wife without even consulting her first!”

She laughed with tolerant amusement. “Who the hell cares one way or the other, Danny? Never mind James— if I didn’t go along with the deal, it wouldn’t work whatever he said. So forget him!”

“It’s not that easy, honey,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

The smile slowly faded from her face. “You mean you’re not going to—you won’t?”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, “and I won’t.”

“I’ve met some strange ones in my time,” she said slowly, “But, brother! You top them all.”

I walked around her and kept on going toward the hall and had reached the front door when I heard the soft patter of feet coming along behind me. I had the door open when she called out, “Danny!”

I turned my head and looked at her. Her face was very pale under the tan, and there was nothing in her eyes but a sudden unsureness.

“Danny,” she said tautly, “it won’t make any difference—you know that? He’ll believe it happened, anyway.” “I know,” I said dully.

“Well, then?” She faltered for a moment. “Why are you running out on me?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it to make sense,” I said carefully. “I know he’ll believe it happened, anyway— and I want him to.”

“I just don’t understand you at all, Danny Boyd,” she said bleakly. “Maybe I don’t appeal to you any more, is that it?”