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' 'Fleming!''
He yanked me upright and kept me from sliding under the dashboard.
"What's wrong? Fleming?"
"A dream on the boat."
'' You remembered something--what?''
He had to wait a long minute for the shaking to pass, and my left hand
was still trembling while I told him what I could. He looked at it, then
up a me.
"Touched a nerve, has it?"
"It's almost over."
"Then you've had this kind of seizure before?"
"Seizure?"
"When I see someone going all boneless as you did, I call it a seizure,
and you seem familiar with it."
"Yeah, I had one a few days ago when I tried to remember what happened
before I woke up on the beach. It's like I'm not here anymore. I don't
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like that loss of control."
He made a sympathetic noise. "Was your last experience as dismaying as
this one?"
"Unfortunately. Except last time I was trying on purpose to remember.
This time getting rid of that stuff--"
"Spontaneously triggered the memory?"
"Yeah, what you said."
He ah-hummed like a doctor and motioned for me to shut the door, then
worked the gears and pointed the car in the general direction of my
hotel.
"What's on your mind?" I asked.
"Just an idea I thought a reenactment of your final moments on the
boat--"
"I get it, but it's kind of hard to reenact something if you don't know
how it was enacted in the first place."
"We know you were beaten and shot."
"You want to beat me up and shoot me?" I said cautiously.
"It is only a suggestion, mind you."
"Let's keep it that way until I can think it over."
"As you wish. After all, I could lose my license by assaulting a client,
even if it is in his best interest."
I watched the streets glide past, waiting for the tingling in my left
hand to subside. "You still want me along tomorrow?"
He was surprised. "Why would you think otherwise?"
I made a fist and opened it, stretching the fingers. "Because of this. I
might conk out on you."
"I'm willing to risk it."
"And because I've met some private inves--agents before, and usually the
last thing they want is their clients breathing down their necks while
they work."
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"That is usually true, but then you don't breathe."
"Funny."
"Besides you are essential to our success. Surely you're aware of the
extreme usefulness of your abilities?"
"For sneaking around unseen? Uh-huh, except I'm not too sure what I
should be looking for."
"In this case, you might know it when you see it, like a half dozen
crates marked as spare parts. You'll have much more freedom of movement
than I. You need only to avoid getting caught."
"I figured that much, but how do I get there? I'm not up and around at
six."
"You can use my car. I'll leave it at your hotel after I've finished my
inquiries for the day. There will be a marked map on the seat showing
you how to get to his place."
At a quarter to eight the next night I was out and following his neatly
written and meticulous directions. In addition to the map was a sketch
of the house and neighboring grounds, and an X marked a shrub-sheltered
spot off the road where I could safely park. Paco took his privacy
seriously. There were warnings about armed guards, high fences, and even
watch dogs, all of which I intended to avoid.
The place was just far enough from town to give the illusion it was in
the country. The land around was brilliantly lit by star and moonlight.
There was no darkness for my eyes, to rest in; even the deepest shadows
under the trees had been reduced to soft gray patches devoid of mystery
and fear. Darkness had been ended forever for me. Perhaps tonight I
would see the man who was responsible.
Twenty careful minutes later I was crouched under the window Escott had
designated, mentally keyed up but devoid of the usual physical signs of
excitement. My lungs drew no quick gulps of air, my heart wasn't
hammering in anticipation of action, I wasn't even sweating. My hands
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were paper dry. The only evidence of inner turbulence was the iron-hard
stiffness that seized my spine. It did help me to keep very still while
I waited; that alone was enough to make me invisible to the occasional
patrolling guard. I was just another shadow in the bushes.
Escott softly called my name from the window. The coast was clear,
inside and out. My body vanished, reappearing just behind him and still
in a crouching position. I came out of it slowly, orienting. We were in
a bathroom.
He'd been peering out the small window and then whirled with a stifled
jump. "My God, but that's unnerving," he whispered, and I tried very
hard not to smile at his reaction. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." I stared in fascination at his makeup job--it was perfect.
"How can you see through those glasses?"
He pulled out a sheet of paper with a rough sketch on it. "Here's the
kitchen, where I'll be They've set me to washing dishes for now and
I've got the window over the sink open if we need to talk. This is the
dining room, the guests are still there, about thirty of them, give or
take the odd gunman. The caterers are only allowed into these areas, the
rest is your territory. Pace's office shouldn't be difficult to
identify, but in particular you might seek out the basement. There is a
locked door to it in the kitchen, but I'm willing to guess there's
another entrance as well."
"You think the locked door is to protect more than just his liquor?"
"I certainly hope so. I want to know where he put all the money he
borrowed from Slick Morelli."
"Anything in particular I should look for?"
"Whatever looks out of place in a normal house--or even this one for
that matter. Perhaps even your list, if they're careless enough to leave
it lying around. In the last week they could have acquired it from Benny
Galligar."
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"O'Hara."
"Whatever." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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