Free Hard Case Crime: Fade to Blonde by Max Phillips Page A

some movie producers hire bodyguards. I was just wondering if the movies was all there was.”
    “Doesn’t seem like enough?” he asked softly.
    I said, “I just wanted to know what my duties might be. Am I just protecting you from irate older brothers, or was there something else you needed done?”
    For some reason, he didn’t like that at all.
    He didn’t close his eyes, like Rebecca said he had, but they changed, all right. I saw a little light come on way back in them, like the pilot light in an oven.
    “You worry about the little sisters, champ?” he said.
    It was still a nice voice, but now it didn’t match the eyes. Maybe it wasn’t so nice.
    “I don’t worry much,” I said. “I thought it was a pretty simple question.”
    “Maybe you’re a bit of a Galahad after all. Is that it?”
    “If we’re going to work together, I ought to know something about the business.”
    “We weren’t talking about working together, champ. We were talking about you working for me. Right now I don’t think we’re talking about anything.”
    “And a minute ago you were full of charm,” I said sadly.
    “I’m still full of charm, champ. Maybe I spread it around too thick. Maybe you’ve already had your share.”
    “Maybe I could get tired of hearing you decide what my share is.”
    “I don’t think I can use you after all,” Halliday said. “I don’t really have a spot right now for someone with your manners.”
    The hell, it was over now.
    I said, “When I need lessons in manners, junior, I won’t come to you. And don’t think you can give me oneon the house. You’re better at running than hitting, remember?”
    Halliday nodded slowly, then got up. There’s not many people who can get up off a barstool and look graceful, but he did, sliding the stool gently out of the way behind him with one foot as he went, so he wouldn’t have to bump into it or edge around it. It didn’t seem like a performance, especially, or any more of one than everything else he’d done. He had both hands on the bar, so that his rings made one glittering row, and he looked at them for a moment. He nodded to himself.
    “I guess that concludes our program for tonight,” he said.
    He got out his wallet and dropped some money on the bar.
    “See you, Halliday,” I said. “Thanks for the drink.”
    “Don’t mention it,” he said, looking past me. “So long.”
    “So long,” I said.
    He walked down to the end of the bar. There was a side door there that led out to the parking lot, and he went out and closed it behind him.
    I sat there and finished my drink. I was pretty hot with myself. I’d pushed in too fast and then lost my temper. I ought to have myself under better control than I do. Well, five gimlets. But Jesus, whose cheap date was I that I had to drink them? I guessed it was worth something to have seen that little light in his eyes. To know it was there. It made it that much easier to buy Rebecca’s story. He could get mean, or anyway, look like it. And he could control it better than I do. What else? He didn’t like people thinking he was small-time. Who does? There was something else there, too, about when I’d asked what he wanted me for. But it’d gone by too fast. He was hung upabout combat. So are a lot of guys who haven’t seen any. He was pretty bright. Pretty sensitive, for a hood. He thought he was some kind of amateur shrink. So do a lot of people in L.A.. He knew how to get off a barstool without snagging his nylons. I counted the money on the bar. Whatever else he was, he wasn’t a piker. I sighed, shoved my chair back, and headed for the door to the parking lot.
    When I got outside, I saw Halliday sitting alone in his car across the lot, the motor running, and two guys in suits standing to my right. I kept walking. Halliday nodded pleasantly and started backing out toward the exit, his elbow on the edge of the open window and his forefinger resting on the top of the side mirror, and the two