Free The Black Hearts Murder by Ellery Queen Page B

sometimes called for heavy social drinking, but his defenses were chemical rather than preferential; he tolerated rather than enjoyed alcohol—ordered a gin and tonic “with plenty of ice.” Ice melted and became water, so his drink grew progressively weaker, which suited him fine.
    The waiter came over with elegant oversized menus, and McCall saw Laurel study the righthand margins.
    â€œDon’t worry about the prices,” he said. “I’m on a swindle sheet.”
    â€œI thought you were an honest man.”
    â€œI’m. But the governor gives me hell if I don’t bill him with what he considers expenses appropriate to my position as his deputy. How about the steak-and-lobster combination?”
    â€œOh, my God,” Laurel said. “I can’t remember when I’ve had either. Yes!”
    â€œIt’s been tough?” McCall said when the waiter moved away.
    â€œWell.” Laurel fiddled with her cocktail glass. “It hasn’t been all roses and featherbeds. I come from a huge family, and every one had a mouth, every mouth was always hungry, and there was never enough of anything.”
    â€œHow well I know,” McCall said. “By the way, I noticed some books on the Peace Corps in your library. Were you once considering joining?”
    â€œI did more than consider,” Laurel said. “I joined.”
    â€œReally? You’re the first girl I ever met who was in the Peace Corps. Tell me about it.”
    â€œI’m afraid it’s not a very exciting tale,” she laughed. “I wasn’t one of those brave gals who lived in the Bolivian jungles and ministered to the “Indios” while fighting off the steaming advances of the Bolivian doctors. I spent two years in the Dominican Republic in a secretarial job.”
    â€œWhere did you go to college?”
    Her green eyes widened. “How did you know that?”
    â€œI used to be a detective.”
    â€œNo, I mean it! How did you know?”
    â€œThose sociology and psychology books. They’re college textbooks.”
    â€œI got a scholarship to State. I had to leave at the end of the first semester. My father died. I thought I wanted to go into social work.”
    The cocktail waitress brought Laurel’s refill—McCall was still nursing his gin and tonic—and he dropped what was evidently a painful subject to her. “How did you happen to join the Peace Corps?”
    â€œWhy did men use to enlist in the Foreign Legion? I lost the boy I was engaged to. Vietnam.”
    â€œOh. Rotten break.”
    â€œOh, not to the V.C.,” Laurel said brightly. “He married an army nurse. He’s out of the service now. Settled in New York City, I understand, and raising a family like mad.”
    â€œHe’s an idiot.”
    â€œFor raising a family like mad?”
    â€œFor leaving you for another girl.”
    â€œWhat a nice thing to say! And spoken as if you really mean it.”
    â€œI do.”
    â€œI’ll bet. By the way, Lou’s decision was a decision of honor. He got the gal pregnant.”
    â€œWell, Lou’s loss is my gain,” McCall said gallantly.
    He asked her how she managed to snag the prestige job of secretary to the mayor. “I just applied for it when Mayor Potter’s secretary quit to have a baby. The major events of my life,” Laurel said thoughtfully, “seem to result from other women’s pregnancies. I wonder if there’s a message there somewhere.”
    McCall chuckled and began to feel guilty. He had a premonition about this date, and it was making him so euphoric that the gravity of his mission for the governor seemed imperiled. He reached across the table for Laurel’s hand, and she allowed him to hold it for a few moments before she firmly retrieved it. She began to ask him questions about himself.
    â€œThat’s what the handbook says, all right,” McCall said. “I mean