The Black Mountain Read Online Free PDF

anti-Russian. Also that eight per cent of the doormen on Park Avenue are Yugoslavs. Also that New Yorkers who are, or whose parents were, from Yugoslavia are fairly cagey about opening up to strangers and are inclined to shut the valves tight if they get the notion that you’re being nosy. Also many other things, including a few that seemed to offer a faint hope of starting a trail that could lead to the bird who had put three bullets in Marko Vukcic, but they all blew a fuse.
    In the first four days of the three weeks we saw Caria twice more. Saturday noon she came and asked Wolfe if it was true, as announced, that there would be no funeral. He said yes, in accordance with Marko’s wish, in writing, that he be cremated and that there should be no services. She objected that there were hundreds of people who wanted to show their respect and love for him, and Wolfe replied that if a man’s prejudices were to be humored at all after he was no longer around to impose them, surely he should be allowed to dictate the disposal of his own clay. The best she could get was a promise that the ashes would be delivered to her. Then she had asked about progress in the investigation, and he had said he would report when there was anything worth reporting, which hadn’t satisfied her at all.
    She came again late Monday afternoon. I had had enough of answering the damn doorbell and left it to Fritz. She came charging in and across to Wolfe’s desk,
    and blurted at him, You told the police! They’ve had Leo down there all day,
    and this afternoon they went to Paul’s place and took him too! I knew I shouldn’t trust you!
    Please - Wolfe tried, but she had pulled the cork and it had to come. He leaned back and shut his eyes. She went on ranting until she had to stop for breath. He opened his eyes and inquired, Are you through'
    Yes! I’m all through! With you!
    Then there’s no more to say. He jerked his head. There’s the door.
    She went to the red leather chair and sat on the edge. You said you wouldn’t tell the police about us!
    I did not. He was disgusted and tired. Since you mistrust me you will credit nothing I say, so why should I waste words'
    I want to hear them!
    Very well. I have said nothing to the police about you or your associates or your surmise about Marko’s death, but they are not donkeys, and I knew they would get onto it. I’m surprised it took them so long. Have they come to you'
    No.
    They will, and it’s just as well. I have only four men, and we are getting nowhere. They have regiments. If you tell them about coming to see me Thursday night they’ll resent my withholding it, but that’s of no consequence. Tell them or not, as you please. As for giving them the information you gave me, do as you please about that too. It might be better to let them dig it up for themselves,
    since in the process they might uncover something you don’t know about. So much for that. Since you’re here I may as well tell you what progress I have made.
    None. He raised his voice. None!
    Nothing at all!
    Nothing.
    I won’t tell the police what I told you, but that doesn’t matter. If you haven’t, you will. Suddenly she was on her feet with her arms spread out. Oh,
    I need you! I need to ask you - I need to tell you what I must do! But I won’t!
    I won’t! She turned and was gone. She moved so fast that when I got to the hall she already had the front door open. By the time I reached it she was out and the door was shut. Through the one-way glass panel I saw her going down the steps, sure and supple, like a fencer or a dancer, which was reasonable, since she had been both. That was the last we saw of her during the three weeks, but not the last we heard. Word of her came four days later, Friday morning, from an unexpected quarter.
    Wolfe and I were having a session in the office with Saul and Fred and Orrie,
    one of a series, trying to think up some more stones to look under, when the doorbell rang and a moment later