Kiss and Kill Read Online Free PDF Page A

women on that tour has disappeared. We’re looking for her.”
    The director’s lips formed an “Oh!” soundlessly. He rose and left the room. Ed shot Barney a look of triumph.
    â€œNot so tough. We won’t need the rest.”
    â€œWait and see,” said Barney. “Every office manager is a bureaucrat at heart. You jolted him into motion. He’ll recover and start unreeling the red tape.”
    Sure enough, the director returned empty-handed. He walked with a vaguely banty-rooster strut. “I’m afraid I can’t give you those names.”
    â€œThen we want to talk to the driver who took the tour!”
    The director’s manicured little hands clenched. “I’m afraid that driver is no longer with us.”
    â€œWhat happened to him?”
    The director got to his feet. “You can’t come into my office and needle me with questions. Who the hell do you think—?”
    That made it Barney’s turn. He put his hand on Ed’s shoulder, saying, “Take it easy, Ed,” and turned to the director. “Mr. Tollman’s upset. I’m sure you can understand that.”
    â€œI’m sure I can’t,” said the director. But he sat down, surveying Ed curiously. “Why is he upset?”
    Barney walked over to the desk and picked up an easel photograph in a silver frame. It showed a dark, graying woman in shorts and a halter posed beside a sailfish. “Your wife?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou know where she is?”
    â€œAt home. I don’t get—”
    â€œThis man,” Barney pointed at Ed, “doesn’t know where his wife is. Put yourself in his shoes. Would you sit around and listen to a lot of evasions?”
    â€œHis wife, you say?”
    â€œYou might even get violent.”
    The director wet his lips. He pressed a button and said into the intercom, “Bring in the file on the December eighteenth tour.” Then he opened a box of cigars and offered them around. When the air was blue with smoke, the little man leaned back.
    â€œThat tour has caused me a lot of trouble. That’s why I got my back up.”
    Barney said, “What trouble?”
    â€œWell, first of all, one of the group was killed in Mexico—”
    Barney looked at Ed. “Did you know?”
    Ed shook his head. “She never mentioned that. But it explains something.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWhy she didn’t talk about the trip. An unpleasantness like that could spoil everything.”
    Barney turned back to the director. “Who was it?”
    â€œA young man named John Torrance Talbot. At least that was the name he gave.”
    Barney sifted in memory through Liz’s letters. The only one who seemed to fit was the one she had called Stone-face. “How was he killed?”
    â€œStruck down by a bus in San Juan del Río, in full view of the group. No, there was no possibility of foul play. That was gone into by the Mexican police, who have occasional attacks of competence. But there was the corpse. I called the name he’d given me to notify in case of emergency—we always get that from our clients—but no such person existed. His home address turned out to be a public laundry. The state of California had no record of a man named John Torrance Talbot. I had to go down and arrange for his burial myself. It wiped out our profit on the tour.”
    â€œAnd then you fired the driver?”
    â€œI didn’t fire him.” The director shrugged. “You may as well hear it all. The driver failed to report for work three weeks ago. Not even his wife knew where he was. At first we filed criminal charges against him, since he’d taken a company limousine—”
    â€œThe same one he drove to Mexico?”
    â€œYes. Each driver is permanently assigned a vehicle; it’s supposed to give them a sense of responsibility. Anyway, we dropped the charges when the limousine