Lucifer's Weekend (Digger) Read Online Free PDF Page B

could see it. Her lips were lightly glossed with a beige-colored lipstick. Long natural lashes made her large eyes seem even larger, and they appeared somehow luminous, as if a tiny pair of spotlights were shining on them from somewhere in the room.
    "Mother," Ardath repeated, "this is Mr. Julian Burroughs. He’s from the insurance company."
    "I see," Mrs. Gillette said. Her face frosted over but was still without wrinkles. She said to Ardath, "Suppose you leave us, dear. I imagine we’ll be talking business."
    "Don’t sign anything," Ardath said.
    "I won’t, dear. Run along now."
    Ardath nodded, but as she turned and walked past Digger, she looked up at him and shrugged, a shrug that contained two million years of hurt and resentment and said, "See, treated like a juvenile again." She closed the sliding doors behind her as she left the train room.
    "I’m sorry," Louise Gillette said. "Your name was…"
    "Julian Burroughs, Mrs. Gillette. I’m with Brokers Surety Life Insurance."
    "I know the name of your company, Mr. Burroughs," she said. "It seems my life is doomed to be one of never-ending correspondence and conference with you people."
    "Not we people," Digger said. "I think this whole thing is stupid. I think we ought to give you the five hundred grand, call it quits and let you get on with rebuilding the New York subway system."
    "Good. Have you brought a check?"
    "No. They wouldn’t trust me with that much money. Actually, they wouldn’t trust me with the price of a pack of cigarettes."
    "It’s funny, you don’t look like a corporate vice-president," she said.
    "Perish forbid," Digger said. "Actually, I’m kind of an investigator for Br—for that insurance company whose name you know so well."
    "And just what is it you’re investigating?" Louise Gillette asked.
    "I’ll tell it to you the way it was told to me," Digger said.
    "I wish you would."
    "Go up there and find out what it takes to convince this crazy broad to take an extra half a million. I was also told that your elevator doesn’t go to the top floor."
    She studied him with a measured gaze, then rose from her seat in front of the control panel and walked toward him, stopping only when there was a thin section of track separating them.
    "That still doesn’t explain why they sent you. You’re an investigator."
    "But I am fabled for my tact and diplomacy," Digger said. "It’s why they keep me around."
    "I don’t think you’re going to last long enough to collect your pension," she said. "Tell me why you think wanting to protect my husband’s reputation makes me a crazy broad."
    "You misunderstand, Mrs. Gillette. I didn’t say you were a crazy broad. My boss, Walter Brackler, complain to him—I’ll give you his home address and phone number —he said you were a crazy broad. I came out here because I needed an excuse to drive to Pennsylvania and see my girl friend."
    She was silent for a moment, and Digger said, "Mrs. Gillette, let’s get it straight. I’m sort of a consultant for Old Benevolent and Saintly. I solve problems for them. They asked me to try to solve this problem concerning your insurance payment. I frankly don’t give a rat’s ass whether you take the million or the half million or if you send them money. It’s all the same to me. I came out here for personal reasons. But I’m the company’s last best hope, and yours, too, I suspect. After me, it goes to the legal department and then it’ll be in court for a hundred and fifty years until senility lowers Ardath’s IQ to five hundred and fifty and you finally get your first wrinkle. But just to touch the bases and tell them I tried, I did want to see you and find out exactly what were your reasons for refusing the extra five hundred thousand. It seems like kind of a large commitment to an arbitrary principle."
    The woman folded her arms for a moment. "Principles are worth nothing unless they are arbitrary," she said. "If it’s flexible, it’s not a principle, it’s a