Prelude to Terror Read Online Free PDF

Grant to raise an eyebrow, do you?”
    “When is he due?”
    “I told him ten o’clock.”
    “That doesn’t leave us much time.”
    “You telephone too much,” she reminded him. “Why didn’t you use the bedroom ’phone?”
    “You’d have been a distraction.”
    “Were the Washington calls so important as all that?”
    “Just checking on Grant,” he said. She didn’t quite believe it. The dossier he had made on Grant, now lying on the desk, was complete enough. His arms had tightened around her again, and he was kissing her on either cheek. “See,” he said as he released her, “I didn’t disturb your lipstick one bit. How is Mr. Grant these days? Much the same, or changed?”
    “Changed. More difficult. Perhaps less confident. More hesitant. Wary, I think.”
    “Suspicious?”
    “That’s going too far. Let’s say he thinks he is nobody’s fool.”
    “Good.” He had spoken too emphatically. He saw the slight surprise in her eyes. “You’re nobody’s fool, either, my love.”
    Except yours, she thought. “Gene, when do we tell Basset—about us?”
    “You want to lose our jobs? We’ve hidden our feelings for three years. He’d never really trust us again. You know the house rules. No philandering between the inmates. Basset wants our minds kept on his business. Full value for the money?”
    “We do keep our minds on—”
    “As we’ve been doing in the last ten minutes?”
    It was a point. She had to smile. And then sighed.
    “I know,” he said softly. “We’ll get married when we have made enough to keep you in the style to which you’ve grown accustomed. Enough, too, to let you resign from your job. I don’t want a part-time wife.”
    Just a part-time mistress? The logic escaped her—he hadn’t much time for anyone these days. His argument about losing Mr. Basset’s trust was stronger. It would be a matter of damaged pride: no one could deceive Basset. He was a past master in secrecy himself.
    Gene was back to the business on hand. “I think I’ll slip out before Grant gets here, telephone you from my room, and then you can invite me over to meet him.”
    “Why not stay?”
    “I don’t want him to find us too cosy. I’ll leave before he does, make an innocent exit.”
    “Oh, no!” she said, the words jerked out of her at the thought of another lonely night.
    “I’m afraid so.”
    “Someone else to see?”
    “It isn’t a woman, if that is what’s troubling you.”
    Perhaps it was. In Arizona it was easy to know what women he could meet: all were visitors to Basset Ranch. Here, in New York... She tried a small joke. “Careful, or I’ll have you followed.”
    His blue eyes turned to ice.
    Nervously she added, “I had Colin Grant followed today. It’s very simple.” She forced a laugh. “It worked. I found him exactly when and where. You see, Gene, you are not the only one who checks and double-checks.”
    “Was all that necessary?”
    Her own voice hardened. “Grant never did like large parties. Consult your dossier. Brawls, he used to call them. He might never have appeared. I damned well wasn’t going to get dressed up for nothing. So I made sure of him.”
    The cold stare left Marck’s eyes. The sudden smile was warm and sunny. He tried to mollify her. “I see I don’t have to tell you what to say to him.”
    She wasn’t placated. She was as capable as Gene, sometimes more so. “I can write my own script,” she said sharply.
    “Yes, sir!”
    He didn’t salute, but the words gave the same effect, a sergeant replying to a junior officer who was inferior in every way except in rank.
    The smile had disappeared.
    “Gene—” she began, ready to back down. She stopped as she heard the knock at her door and pointed frantically towards her bedroom. Gene was already on his way there, to take its exit into the corridor once it was safe.

4
    Grant arrived at the Albany with only a few minutes to spare. At ten o’clock exactly he was entering Lois