Free The Howard Hughes Affair: A Toby Peters Mystery (Book Four) by Stuart M. Kaminsky

call me back and Trudi Gurstwald to get in touch. I listened to Shelly’s Silvertone radio while I munched and turned to KFI for a jolly night of Bums and Allen, Fibber McGee and Molly, Bob Hope and Red Skelton. By the time Bob Hope came around, Hughes had still not called. In the middle of Red Skelton, I heard someone come into the outer office. I wasn’t expecting trouble, but I didn’t feel like taking chances. I had left the light on in Shelly’s office and my small light off. I snapped off the radio and tiptoed to the door to open it a crack and peeked out.
    I saw Trudi Gurstwald, her little yellow curls bobbing, in a fresh dress looking clean and fluffy. It contrasted with her pink and anxious face. She looked around the room nervously and made a turn to leave. I stepped out.
    “Mrs. Gurstwald,” I said, and she turned, startled.
    “Mr. Peters,” she said, her accent strong. “I thought I had missed you. I have only half an hour or so. Anton thinks I am shopping and I must meet him at 8:30. I have a cab waiting downstairs.”
    She paced the room and I took a seat in the dental chair. The surroundings didn’t seem to surprise or bother her. She had something else on her mind.
    “I don’t know what Anton would do if he knew I had come here,” she said, looking at me earnestly.
    “I don’t either,” I said. “Why don’t we put it from our minds while you tell me what you wanted to tell me about that night at Hughes’ house.”
    She bit both of her lips and turned to me with moist eyes.
    “I’m really afraid,” she said taking a step toward me.
    “Well, lady,” I came back, “you may very well have reason to be afraid. You have my sympathy, but I can’t give you anything more till you tell me what you know.”
    She took another step toward me, almost crying.
    “You can’t know what it is like living there with Anton and those people,” she said softly, her eyes searching mine. “He has such fear of the Nazis, the Americans, so many people. He can think of nothing else. And he has no strength left for me. He had such strength, Mr. Peters.”
    I nodded knowingly, deciding to let her talk it out in the hope that she’d get to the point herself. After all, she was the one who had the cab waiting.
    “When you came this morning,” she said, “it was the first life in that house in months. You said things no one says to Anton and you did to Rudy what I’ve wanted to do for years.”
    The tears were overflowing, and she was standing over me in the chair. I half expected her to pick up one of Shelly’s contaminated instruments and go to work on me. Instead she leaned over and put her open mouth on mine. Her mouth was large and engulfed me to the point where I had trouble breathing.
    She let me up for air and I caught some, but she wasn’t breathing hard.
    “I haven’t even touched a man in years,” she whispered.
    I felt sorry for her, but she didn’t give me much time to feel anything. She took my face in her hands and placed her mouth back on mine. I was in an awkward position for getting up, but I had the impression that even if we were on equal footing, Trudi Gurstwald was a match for me. Besides, I didn’t dislike what she was doing. I was just puzzled by it. I had learned to distrust the few women who had found me irresistible. There always seemed to be a price to pay for it. On the other hand, I never really had the will power to turn down the attention. It came too infrequently. So I didn’t try to stop Trudi Gurstwald and did my best to enjoy her kisses, while being curious about where they would lead to and wondering whether she was crazy and how long she’d let the cab wait.
    Her hands moved down my chest to my legs and then between them, and I stopped being curious. She may have been desperate and distraught, but she was doing the work. I gave her some help, and she moaned loud enough to wake any of the bums who might have been sleeping in the halls.
    We wrestled cooperatively