Free Davidian Report by Dorothy B. Hughes

sent Timothy Leonard to talk to you. What did Leonard want to know?”
    “Where is Davidian? What else would he want? To carry me to his rich—”
    He cut in. “Did he mention me?”
    “Perhaps he just mentions your name. I do not know this Steve Wintress, Stefan.” Her eyes slitted. “What do you tell this man of me?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Now it is you who are lying.”
    “Him, nothing. Haig Armour—”
    Her temper was rising and his slow smile helped it. “What do you tell him?”
    “Nothing he doesn’t know. I’ve heard the name Janni Zerbec. Who hasn’t? The babe of Berlin.” His hand was above her wrist but he remembered not to touch her. “The dancer in all the best cafés.”
    She spat. “It was jealousy. I was superior to the café dancers. They were old and spavined. They were afraid to have me be seen. It was for this reason I must dance on the street and in private quarters—”
    He asked, “Did you know Reuben St. Clair?”
    “Who is this?”
    “A G.I. He was in Berlin.”
    She said, “I do not remember. There were so many soldiers. German soldiers, American soldiers, English, French, Russian soldiers. I do not remember their faces or their names, only what they give to me.”
    “You’ve stopped lying,” he said insolently. “What about Haig Armour?”
    She glowered under her ragged dark bangs. “I have told you I do not know this Haig Armour.” Again she gave the name phonetic quality. And he didn’t know which one spoke true, she or Haig. She was peering past the window. “We have quarreled sufficiently. Now I take you home. You will behave as if I take you against your wishes.”
    “Who’ll believe that?” She couldn’t meet his eyes. She hadn’t forgotten, no matter how much she wanted to, no matter how much she wanted him to believe she had. He put on a scowl as she walked him out of the place. The fellow who’d taken over her job could watch them depart.
    They turned west at Third Street. She said, “Here you may leave me.”
    He countered, “I haven’t the faintest intention of leaving you. I am here for information.”
    She flashed, “There is no information I can give you. Or your friends. Tell them that. Tell them to leave me alone. I know nothing. Nothing!”
    “You know one thing, Janni. How to put me in touch with Davidian. Listen to me.” He took her arm, holding it rigid until she ceased resisting. “He is expecting me. We planned this before he left Berlin. It is essential I see him before the others do.” They walked together. “Just why are you holding out on me? Hasn’t he told you he wants to see me?”
    She said savagely, “Maybe he trusts you. I know better.”
    “What’s your percentage?” He flung the insult. “You think you can make a better deal?”
    She was trembling with anger. “I would not touch your deals. I wish only to be a good American.” The anger subsided. “This is what he wishes also, only to be a good American.”
    He ignored the appeal. “Davidian looks out for Davidian.”
    “You do not know him now! He is no longer a man to be beaten, kicked—he is free! I will not turn him over to you to be trapped again in your dirty organization.”
    “Listen,” he demanded. “This hasn’t anything to do with any organization. This is a private matter between Davidian and me.” He stressed it. “No one else figures in it.”
    “You are working for the party.”
    “I work where I get paid.” How much did he dare say? It wasn’t safe to deposit information with anyone. Not on this kind of job. He couldn’t trust her.
    Her voice was a smooth, cold stone. “I do not understand this. That you can work for them, betray your own people. For money!”
    “It’s a good enough reason,” he said callously. “You’re the last one to point the finger. Let’s leave my conscience out of it. And yours. All I want is for you to get word to Davidian that I’m here looking for him. That’s all. Not next week or the day after