Free Medusa by Timothy C. Phillips Page A

man paused. I stepped into the room, shutting the door behind me. “You’re holding the gun, Corsack. I guess you can do the talking, too.”  
    Corsack looked down at the automatic in his hand with an expression that manifested something almost like embarrassment. How did that get there? The pistol remained aimed levelly at me, however.  
    “Forgive me, Mr. Longville. I pretended to leave message for you at the desk of each hotel along the strip until finally I reached this one. They are old-fashioned here, for the tourists. They still have the old type mailbox in lobby. At the other hotels, they refuse me. There is no one there by your name, they tell me. Here, the man at the desk took the message and placed it into the message slot for this room, 509. So I come here, I pick the lock, and await your return. I realize you might be angry, but that is chance I must take. This is why I have the gun, for which I apologize. I must compel you to listen. We are both mixed up in same business, most dangerous, with many dangerous people. I seek to find which side you are on in this matter.”  
    “Since you know my name, I suppose that you also know that I am a private investigator. Other than that, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m here on a case of my own. I really can’t imagine how it concerns you. Maybe if you told me something about why you are here, we could figure out if we are working on related cases.”  
    Corsack listened with interest, but shook his head slightly.  
    “I do not know this. That you are private investigator. Now, I see. What do you investigate, then?” The man’s eyes glittered darkly, and on his face was an inscrutable half-smile.  
    I shrugged. “I’m here to investigate the disappearance of a young girl. It’s tied to another case I had, about five years ago.”  
    Now Corsack was nodding vigorously. “Yes, now I see the connection.”  
    “Connection with what? You’re not making any sense, Corsack.”  
    “You think not? Perhaps, I do not, at the moment. But all will be made clear to you. There are many complexities, yes? Mysterious person called to let me know of your interest in certain matter. Person I do not know, merely voice on telephone. I come here to make sure we are on same side.” A strange smile split Corsack’s face, and he leaned a little closer to me.  
    “So, my friend, I ask you, have you not yet seen the Medusa?”  
    I stood there, blinking at this strange apparition, and began to suspect Tiller had been right, after all. Perhaps New Orleans was full of the insane. Maybe my hotel room had been invaded by a madman—a madman with a pistol, at that. But something told me that the man in the powder blue suit was deadly serious. The fact that he had also been tipped off by a phantom caller was interesting, too.  
    “Medusa? What are you talking about?”  
    There was a strange sparkle in Corsack’s eyes, like there was much to tell, but for some reason he was holding something back.  
    “You have not seen the coils of the snakes, then? Do not fear. I will make the details of my own work known to you. Now, my friend, I go. Tomorrow, I will call you here, around dark. I will leave instructions where to meet you and your policeman friend, and we will go see the Medusa. I think your answer lies there.”  
    Corsack rose and edged past me to the door.  
    “Just one thing, Corsack. The next time you point that pistol at me, you had better be prepared to use it.”  
    “My apologies, Mr. Longville. But as I say, fear not. We are on same side. You will see.”  
    Corsack went out the door, backed away, gun still in hand, then abruptly turned and sprinted down the hall. I was tempted to follow, but decided against it. I knew that I could run the man down, if I wanted to. But whatever his game was, he had said he would return, and I believed him. I decided to play it his way, for the time being.  
    I gave Corsack fifteen minutes to make