Free Never Say No to a Killer by Clifton Adams Page B

hoarsely.
    “Want?” Lord, she was beautiful! Her eyes blazed with anger and every inch of her was alive.
    “My wants are very simple,” I said. “I'm a lonely guy in a strange town. I want a bottle of good wine, a good meal, and a beautiful girl to keep me company-the most natural desires in the world.”
    She said one word, under her breath, and not a very nice word at that.
    I laughed. “You won't believe this, but I almost never make a good impression on people. That has always seemed unfair, because I'm a lovable guy when you get to know me.”
    “I'll bet!”
    I liked this. I had a feeling that under that mask of hers was something very exciting. Then the cab stopped and I was surprised to see that we were already in the heart of town, at the Lake Hotel.
    “Fine!” I paid the driver, assisted her from the cab.
    Pat seemed to know her way around so I said, “The choice is up to you. There must be a good saloon somewhere in this place.” The decor in the African Room was extremely modern and angular and not much to my taste, but it was better than anything I had seen for five years so I didn't complain.
    I looked at Pat when the waiter arrived and she said, “Martini, five-to-one.”
    I looked at the waiter and he nodded that he had the order. I said, “Bourbon on the rocks,” and he went away.
    We said nothing until the drinks arrived and the waiter went away again. Then she looked at me, angrily. “Now I want to know the reason for all this!”
    “I told you, I was lonely.”
    “I don't feel like jokes. What is it you want?”
    “I told you what I wanted. Maybe it's strange, but it's the truth.”
    “Understand one thing,” she said tightly. “I don't have to stand for this… this caveman performance of yours. I have friends…”
    “Have you?” I said. “Alex Burton had people in debt to him and might have called them friends, but they don't count now.”
    Color crept high in her face. “I must have been insane,” she said, “when I allowed you to drag me into that taxi. I thought… I don't know what I thought. But I know one thing, I've had enough.” She stood up.
    I said, “Sit down!”
    She didn't move.
    I came half out of my chair. “Listen to me!” I said. “You try to leave this room and I'll cause the goddamnedest scene you ever saw! I'll tie you up with the Burton murder and get your name in headlines if I have to print the papers myself! Now sit down!”
    She dropped as though she had been shot.
    “That's better. Now drink your Martini and calm down a little.”
    She glared at me, then downed the drink angrily. The well-trained waiter was right at my elbow, ready to pick up the empty glass. “Another of the same,” I said, “for the lady.”
    We sat in absolute silence until the drink arrived. I hadn't meant for it to be like this at all, I had meant for it to be a nice, smooth operation carried off in a civilized manner. But, goddamnit, people simply would not allow me to be civilized.
    Jesus, I thought, I don't enjoy this sort of thing; I'm no goddamn sadist. A certain amount of violence, sure; like a good fighter, I needed a certain amount of violence to keep my reflexes in condition.
    The waiter came and went away again, and still we sat there in silence. But she didn't look quite as angry now. I could almost see her taking control of her emotions, and some of the fire went out of her eyes, and she sat there for a long while, studying me coldly, calmly.
    “Well,” I said at last, “what do you see?”
    “… I'm not sure.”
    “Believe me,” I said, “I didn't enjoy that little scene. I hadn't meant for it to be that way at all. Now, have you calmed down a little?”
    “… Yes.”
    “Fine. Finish your martini, then if you still want to walk out, I won't try to stop you. Is that fair enough?”
    “Mr. O'Connor,” she said coldly, “I want to ask you once more. What do you want from me?”
    I sighed. “I don't know what's wrong here, I honestly don't. We