[Magazine 1966-­09] - The Brainwash Affair - Davis Robert Hart - Страница 7

Gizelle and the blonde followed. The blonde locked the door, removed the key and dropped it down into her copious bosom.

"Marie," Gizelle said, worried. "Where is Albert? He should be here by now."

The blonde gazed at her coldly. "Can't you live five minutes without that Moor?"

Gizelle winced. "I would not be in––this—except for Albert. This is not my kind of thing."

Marie laughed harshly. "No. We know what kind of thing yours is—luring suckers into the alley for your precious Albert to mug them. You're in something big this time. If you do what you're told, maybe you and your sweet Albert will have enough so you won't have to rob drunks in an alley anymore."

Gizelle walked to the window and stood staring down at the street.

She shivered.

Marie's voice rasped at Gizelle. "Come take this gun and guard him. I must call the doctor at once."

"Aren't you feeling well, Marie?" Solo inquired in mock solicitude.

Marie lashed out, shoving Solo, and he fell upon the bed on his back. "And stay there—"

"Alone? Like this?"

"And keep quiet." She spoke over her shoulder. "Come on, Gizelle. Take the gun."

Gizelle crossed the room unwillingly.

She took the gun reluctantly. Solo saw that her earlier encounter had left her frightened, even when she held the artillery.

Marie backed to the French phone, lifted the receiver.

Solo made a false leap toward Gizelle. The dark-skinned girl screamed and almost dropped the gun.

Marie threw the phone into its cradle, ran across to her. Her face was livid.

"The next time he does a thing like that," Marie raved, "shoot him."

Gizelle nodded numbly.

Marie turned, her face twisted. She placed her hands on her hips. "You think I don't know how to quiet you down?"

Solo grinned up at her. "I know how to quiet you down, too, Marie."

Marie tossed her blonde head in contempt. "Is that all you think about—love?"

"If you've never thought about it, Marie, don't knock it," Solo said.

"Save this kind of talk for women like Gizelle—"

"I like big blondes, Marie."

"You'll never get me in your arms."

"That's too bad. You don't know what you're missing—"

"Huh!" Marie's mouth twisted. "All men are pigs."

"That's why you're so full of war, Marie," Solo taunted her. "You hate love."

"I hate men."

"Sure. And you're turning to vinegar."

After a moment of staring down at Solo, unblinking, Marie returned to the phone.

Gizelle retreated a couple of steps, holding the gun on Solo in a trembling hand.

Solo smiled at her. "I think you'd be happier back in the alleys, Marie."

Her chin tilted. "We are going to be rich."

"You and Albert?"

"That's right. We are through with the old life. We will be rich."

"Albert tell you that?"

"Be quiet!" Marie ordered. "This call is important."

Solo lay silently on the old iron four-poster bed, watching the blonde at the phone. She spoke finally, "Hello, Doctor. Marie. That's why I called you. No. I have not failed this time. I told you I would not. No, I don't have both of them. I have Napoleon Solo, and soon the other one will be here. Albert is returned to find him now. Cars are coming for us? How soon may we expect them?"

Solo sat up on the bed as Marie continued to speak with deference and servility to the "doctor" on the phone.

"Stay there," Gizelle ordered weakly. She tilted up the gun.

"Press the trigger, Gizelle," Solo said.

She winced, her face bleak.

"I don't want to have to kill you," she said, almost pleading.

Solo stood up. "Looks like you'll have to, Gizelle."

Marie slapped her hand over the phone speaker. "Shoot him, you fool!"

Solo leaped forward, going around the table. He caught at Marie, slipping his arm about her waist, putting her between him and Gizelle.

Marie was raging crazily at her. Gizelle whispered frantically, "Oh, Albert—"

"Albert won't help you now!" Marie raged. "I tell you, shoot him." She spoke again into the phone. "No, Doctor, I assure you everything's under control here."

"The doctor's going to think you're an awful liar," Solo whispered into Marie's ear.

She kicked backward, striking his shins with her pointed heel.

Solo gasped, but tightened his grasp on her. As she tried to re place the receiver, he caught it.

He ripped it from her grasp, brought it across her throat. Marie gasped, wheeling them around. She was stronger than Solo had believed.

Gizelle fired. Only the fact that she was trembling in terror saved either Solo, her target, or Marie. The bullet whipped past them, splatting against the wall.

Solo caught the wire, looping it around Marie's arms. He spun her until the wire held her immobile. She spat at him, raging.

Across her head, Solo saw that Gizelle had retreated to the door. She braced herself against it, holding the smoking gun at arm length as though she hated it almost as much as she feared it.

"Shoot him!" Marie raged at Gizelle.

Reaching across Marie's shoulder, Solo thrust his hand down the front of her dress, coming up with keys to his cuffs and the door.

"Delightful cache you have there, my dear," Solo said.

Marie swore at him in blistering French, English and Italian.

Holding Marie before him, Solo unlocked his cuffs, let them fall before him.

Then he loosened the chain about his waist.

As Marie raged, he snapped one of the cuffs on her. Then he thrust her forward, moving her toward Gizelle.

The dark-skinned girl wailed at them. "Stay there! Stay away from me!"

Her hand shook so badly she almost dropped the gun.

Marie screamed at her.

Suddenly Gizelle wheeled around, grabbing at the doorknob, trying to fight her way from the room.

Solo pushed Marie against her. He snapped one of the cuffs on Gizelle. The Arab girl sobbed, between rage and relief.

Solo reached out and took the gun from her unprotesting fingers. It was as if she were pleased to lose it.

Sole led them at the end of the chain to the foot of the bed. He locked the chain to the iron post.

"I'll leave you girls now," be said. "I know you've got a lot to say to each other."

Marie turned the air blue with her swearing.

Solo spoke to Gizelle. "She's beginning to repeat herself. Why don't you teach her some Arabic?"

Marie spat at him again, frustrated.

Solo stood another moment, regarding them. "You might pull the bed over to the phone, but you've pulled the phone out of the wall." He shook his head. "Au revoir, Marie, Gizelle. I hope you're able to think of something except bad words."

"You pig!" Marie wailed at him. "Are you such a fool that you believe the doctor will let you get away with this?"

He locked the hotel room door behind him. As he came off the lower step, he could hear Marie screaming.

At the street door he paused. A black sedan sped into the street and slammed to a screeching stop at the curb.

Holding his breath, Solo retreated into the shadowed hall. The doors were thrown open on the car. Four men piled out, hurrying across the walk.

Solo leaned against the wall until the four of them ran past him, going up the steps. When the last one was on the first landing, Solo stepped through the door, went down to the sidewalk and walked away rapidly.