1950 - Mallory Read Online Free PDF Page B

suddenly grinned, pushed the Mauser into his coat pocket and bent to pick up his hat. ‘I guess I nearly lost my temper that time,’ he went on. ‘I’ll be running along. You’d better keep clear of me in the future. If this happens again I shan’t behave so nicely.’
    ‘That was pretty neatly done,’ Ranleigh said admiringly. He turned to Jan who was crawling to his feet, his hand to the side of his head, still dazed. ‘Go and look after Crew. You’ve done enough damage for today.’
    Without a word, Jan went into the other room. He closed the door with a sharp, venomous click.
    Corridon moved to the door as Ranleigh said, ‘I’m sorry about this. We’ve handled you badly. Can’t we discuss this as a business proposition?’
    Corridon glanced over his shoulder and paused.
    ‘I don’t think so,’ he said, looked from Ranleigh to Jeanne.
    She was watching him intently, but he couldn’t read anything in the blank expression on her face.
    ‘I wish you would,’ Ranleigh went on. ‘We want your help, and we’re prepared to pay for it. We’re serious about the thousand pounds. Won’t you meet us halfway? Give us a hearing. Jan is a fool. He thinks a gun will get him anything he wants. I was against the gun from the start. Can’t I persuade you?’
    Corridon suddenly grinned.
    ‘I think you have.’ He sat down on the arm of the chair holding his hat in his hand, ready to walk out, but also ready to listen. ‘What’s the job?’
    ‘We must know if he’s Corridon,’ Jeanne said quickly. ‘We must know that first.’
    ‘Yes,’ Ranleigh said. ‘You see if we’ve slipped up,’ he went on to Corridon, ‘And we talk, we’d be in a mess. The job’s confidential. We’ve already made one mistake. That chap Crew is a pickpocket. He stole my wallet and found papers that gave our game away. We had a hell of a time finding him. Then he tried to blackmail us. So we moved in here and kept him prisoner. We’re still trying to make up our minds what to do with him. So, you can see, we can’t afford to make another mistake. If you are Corridon, then you’ll have scars on your back and chest where the Gestapo left their trademark. We’re not really doubting Thomases, but we just have to be sure.’
    Corridon released a thin cloud of tobacco smoke down his nostrils. He brooded for a moment, then with an impatient shrug, pulled back a coat sleeve, undid a shirt cuff and bared his muscular arm. A few inches above his wrist was a broad white scar. It bit into his flesh like a tight bandage, sharp-edged and shiny.
    ‘They put handcuffs on me every night,’ he explained and smiled mirthlessly. ‘They made them hot so I wouldn’t feel the cold. Does that satisfy you?’
    Both of them looked at the scar with cold detachment. There was not pity or horror on either of the faces, only a kind of professional interest.
    ‘They had bright ideas, didn’t they?’ Ranleigh said. He touched the scar on his face. ‘They did that with a red hot bayonet.’
    Corridon looked sharply at him.
    ‘So you’ve had a dose too?’
    ‘Oh yes, and so has Jeanne,’ Ranleigh came forward and examined Corridon’s scar closely. ‘It’s all right,’ he went on to Jeanne. ‘It’s Corridon all right. The dossier mentions the handcuff scars.’
    ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘All right - then tell him.’
    Ranleigh moved away from Corridon, took a cigarette from a box on the mantel and lit it.
    ‘It’s an odd sort of job,’ he said, looking intently at the glowing tip of the cigarette. ‘It’s dangerous too. I can’t think of anyone who could do it better than you. We have tried and failed. If you can’t do it, I don’t think anyone can, and it’s a job that’s got to be done.’
    Corridon swung his leg and waited, aware that both of them were watching him closely.
    ‘Well, what is it?’ he asked abruptly.
    Ranleigh said, ‘A man is to be executed. We want you to do it.’

     

chapter three
     
    I
     
    T he girl had